#but she never revealed her identity to her and this is for if they were adventuring together or something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

munsonsreputation · 9 months ago

Text

I SHOULD HATE YOU

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [22.3k]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, enemies to lovers, reader and steve use foul language towards each other (bitch, asshole, ect). blood (one of them gets hurt...but not bcs of each other), eventual smut (oral: both m and f receiving, fingering, piv, multiple o's,) minors gtfo before i superkick you!!!

summary: You and Steve Harrington hate each other’s guts…or at least you should, that is until a camp outing reveals everything that you both have been trying to hide.

You desperately wanted to see what everyone else saw in Steve Harrington that you didn’t. All those words of how he changed so much and had this entire redemption arc when he decided to finally stop giving shit about stupid high school social orders and commit his life to be the esteemed and reliable babysitter.

Hell, even Robin Buckley, the one girl who really couldn’t stand him a few years ago, was now his best friend, and Nancy Wheeler, his ex-girlfriend, could actually stand to be in his presence without wanting to cringe and vomit because she actually dated him.

You just couldn’t see it in him no matter how hard you tried, not even the kids could convince you that Steve wasn’t all that bad anymore. If anything they gushed about how much they admired him. How he was the cool older brother figure that they all wanted and had wrapped around their fingers ready at their beck and call.

Everyone loved Steve, but to you it was just bullshit.

“Why the sad face, doll?”

Steve pouted feignedly, causing you to roll your eyes, slapping the flies away from your skin as you watched him pitch his stupid tent.

“I’m not sad. I’m more so annoyed.” You grunted out with a glare.

“I told you to bring bug spray.” He reminded shaking his head, clearly amused seeing you get angry at the innocent flies.

“I did, but it doesn’t fucking work and for your information, I’m annoyed because you’re here.” You said through gritted teeth, slapping your neck as another one landed but flew away before you could kill it.

Steve snapped the poles into place, engrossed with his task.

“Well if it makes you feel any better,” he chimed in, standing with a straight smirk across his face, “I’m not particularly happy with your presence either seeing as though you’re not doing shit besides standing there being a bitch.”

Your eyes widened, arms crossing over your chest as you stared at him in disbelief. But by this point it shouldn’t have been so surprising granted that you and Steve never stopped bickering, even when you both should have known to ignore each other.

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Harrington!” You shouted, turning on your heel and flipping him the bird as you walked away.

“Tell that to my right hand, sweet cheeks!” He called out with a whistle, reveling in the art of getting under your skin.

Nance and Jonathan exchanged amused glances, painfully familiar with how much you and Steve despised each other yet somehow got here alive without slitting each other's throats. But that didn’t seem like it was going to be lasting long seeing as though this was now the beginning to a very long night.

You plopped down onto the foldable chair, still wearing a scowl that didn’t seem to want to cease even with the distance you created between you and him.

“We barely got here and you’re already at each other's throats.”

Nancy shook her head not understanding why you both couldn’t be adults about this whole thing.

“He started it!” You insisted, pointing your finger in his direction.

Jonathan couldn’t help but jump in with a chuckle, feeling as if this was payback for all those times he and his brother Will gave his mom a hard time. Seriously, dealing with you both was identical to watching two toddlers tattle tale on each other for every little thing before toys and fists were thrown.

“So now you’re playing the blame game?” He suspected.

You clicked your tongue, sitting up straighter, shoulders pulled back as you crossed your legs and placed your hands on top of your knees, ready to mock Steve and his privileged life that he just had to leave behind for the day.

“Why couldn’t he just have stayed home in his stupid mansion, driving around in his stupid Beemer, where he could be stupid all by himself and leave us out of his stupid stupidity.”

You seriously looked like you could end him with your bare hands — and if they didn’t know better they’d let you have a go at it just to see how far you would get. Surely Steve would put up a good fight too, probably make it quick and easy so he didn’t have to hear your voice anymore, but you would definitely be taking your time with him.

“He’s the only one who’s ever been camping and if something happens then he’ll know what to do.”

Nancy attempted to reason with you, hoping you could see it through just this once, for just a couple hours.

You shrugged your shoulders, watching him in your peripheral vision.

“Whatever, as long as he stays away from me then I can make it through the next 24 hours.” You waved off.

But Jonathan lugged up a box, plopping it before your feet with a loud clatter coming from inside of it, staring at you with a smile.

“If you want to make it to at least tonight, I’d suggest you start getting to work.”

Cursing under your breath, you were beginning to rethink your choices of saying ‘yes’ to trip when you had not one outdoorsy bone in your body and surely no bone, not even a cell that could stand Steve Harrington.

But getting it pitched up yourself wasn’t all that bad considering the fact that the instructions were self explanatory and had images to make it easy to follow. It was that nagging, infuriating voice that belonged to Steve that was getting on your last nerve. Like a mosquito in your ear, he kept buzzing and buzzing and—

“Try again, you’re holding the pole backwards, smarty pants!” He called out, smirking to himself when you tried to ignore him by shutting him out and doing it at your own pace.

But ignoring him only fueled his determination to keep going, poking and prodding at your patience that was withering away by the second. Every snarky smartass remark was like nails on a chalkboard, causing your eye to twitch, teeth to grind, and self-restraint to grow weaker.

“Your tent is gonna fly away in the middle of the night if you don’t make use of those stakes!”

“You shoulda listened to me, I told you that pole was in the wrong slot!”

“How about you put a little elbow grease into it and stop trying to put it together like you’re the goddamn princess of the camp ground!”

Your blood was damn nearly boiling, knuckles going white as you shoved the stupid pole into the other side, trying to get the frame to stay together. But your anger and rushing only made it worse, the wobbling frame threatening to give out on itself if you tried to force it in anymore than you already had. His whiny voice and every taunt that came with it just made you want to take the pole and use it for something else — silencing him.

Nancy and Robin had scolded Steve multiple times, knowing that your fuse with him was ridiculously short. Eddie and Jonathan, well-acquainted with your dynamic, kept their distance, observing from the sidelines not wanting to be caught in the impending storm between you two.

Eddie watched you carefully, your jaw clenching, air pushing out of your nostrils and he was sure that if it was humanly possible there would be a hot steam coming from the top of your head.

“Knock it off, man, she’s getting pissed.” He warned his friend, taking a swig of his beer, while he darted between you both.

Steve however, wasn’t threatened in the slightest, continuing to provoke you with another snide comment.

“She won’t be pissed for long if a bear comes and mauls her in the middle of the night because she doesn’t know how to pitch a damn—”

That was the last straw.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You screamed, ripping off the pole and storming towards Steve not caring how insane you looked.

Eddie quickly got on his feet, dropping his beverage and intervening just in time.

“Not so fast!” He lifted you off the ground holding you back as Jonathan managed to wrangle the pole out of your hands.

Steve was having a fit of laughter, hunching over himself and grabbing at his midsection.

“You’re so easy to piss off.” He cackled, shaking his head at you and giving himself an imaginary point for already getting under your skin in the first hour of being there.

“You’re such an asshole!” You fumed, continuing to struggle in Eddie's grasp.

He kept his hold tight knowing if there was any room left for you to get away, it would most likely end with warfare. And while he and your friends never liked to come in between your tumultuous relationship, they knew letting you both rip each other apart wouldn't do anyone good – even if it gave them some peace.

Nancy had had enough — the trip was supposed to be peaceful, getting to be one with nature and finally getting away from the kids for once, but of course, that wouldn’t happen seeing as though you and Steve acted like children possessed.

“Enough!” She shouted, bringing temporary silence as you both could feel the seriousness in her voice.

“You’re right, Steve is an asshole and because he feels so sorry, what he’s gonna do is finish pitching up your tent while we go to the lake to cool off. Got it?”

She turned towards him, her eyes widening, signaling Steve to comply for the sake of peace just this once.

But instead, he protested, standing up defiantly, “Hell no! I wouldn’t even pitch her tent if—”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Nancy interrupted, not leaving any room for negotiation because at this point it was futile.

Robin gestured to the partially completed frame with a small shrug.

“It’s the least you can do, half of it is already done.” She said, hoping to lighten his mood about it.

Reluctantly Steve huffed, glaring as he made his way over to you, faces only inches apart as everyone began to sigh, seeing as though you’d both be starting again. Eddie gripped you tight, not even giving you any wiggle room to try anything.

“You’re lucky Robin’s staying in your tent because if she wasn’t, I wouldn’t even think about finishing it.” Steve rasped begrudgingly smirking because you were a prisoner in shackles.

But you jutted your neck forward as if you were about to headbutt him which caused him to flinch back, holding his arm out front of his body. That alone made you cackle, just a taste of what you could have done to get him to shut up.

“Get to work, boy scout.” You sneered.

Throwing Eddie’s arms off your midsection, you brushed right past him going towards your bag to get out a bikini to change into while the rest of them whispered their scoldings, particularly punctuating the importance of Steve not messing with you anymore because they couldn’t stand it.

Jonathan nudged Steve’s shoulder, a pleading expression on his face.

“Would it kill you to not be such a dickhead to her for one whole day?”

Steve dramatically gasped, wrapping his arms around his own neck pretending to suffocate, “Y-yes… I-I can’t breathe, no oxygen!”

His best friend rolled her eyes, unimpressed with his childish behavior “You’re such a dweeb, I swear.” she said, smacking the top of his head as she walked past him and followed you to the bathrooms.

“You heard her, get to work.”

Nance snapped her fingers, pointing sharply at the tent hoping that for once he’d listen.

Jonathan and Eddie decided to serve as watch guards knowing that if no one was here to watch him and make sure he did what he was told, he would probably let you sleep with a half assed tent while Robin stayed with him and Eddie.

Maybe all you needed was to get as far away as possible from him… for as long as you could.

Stepping into the lake, the water felt nice against your skin, cooling down the sizzling blood still rushing in your veins and easing your body to a state of relaxation. If you closed your eyes hard enough and let the sun bask down on your face, you could pretend as if he wasn’t just a few feet away from you, grumbling like a whiny child forced into time out to write a hundred sentences.

You honestly should’ve known better than to agree to come along the trip knowing Steve was going to infect it with his existence, but your friends had convinced you otherwise, selling it as an opportunity to get out of Hawkins for a weekend and just enjoy each other’s company.

If you had known that Steve was going to be even more of a pain in the ass than usual, you would have never even thought about getting into Eddie van and driving all the way here with no other means to leave.

“I just don’t understand how he’s nice to everyone but you.” Robin pondered aloud, trying to understand the mystery between your relationship.

“It’s because he wants me dead, Robin, simple as that.” You deadpanned, seeing no other explanation to it other than pure hatred.

“Don’t be ridiculous, he doesn’t want you dead.” Nancy laughed, brushing off your comment knowing that Steve didn’t hate you that much.

“Oh my bad, I meant that he wants me to suffer a long excruciating death by letting his ego take up all the space in the room.”

Your voice leaked of sarcasm, eliciting laughs from the girls who found humor in what you saw as the truth.

Robin and Nancy knew there was no way the both of you could really hate each other as much as you both liked to think you did. If you really did hate each other for real, then you wouldn’t even dare to tolerate each other's presence but you both did — and while sure most times it was for the sake of your friends, by now one of you should’ve been fed up enough to leave.

Their laughter faded, Robin staring at you with a mischievous smirk as you waded in the water, enjoying the temporary peace. Perhaps she could be out of line with the thoughts brewing up in her head, but it was just a theory — a possible reasoning for you and Steve’s differences.

“Did you ever stop and think that maybe you two might get along better if you liked each other in a different way?” She wiggled her brows before biting her lip.

And like that, the peace was gone.

“Absolutely fucking not!” You shouted, rejecting it with clear disgust as you began splashing her in retaliation.

She giggled some more, trying to shield herself from the large splashes as Nancy swam off to the side, happy that at least you were having some fun now, even if the conversation still revolved around Steve. Robin swam through the splashes, wrapping her hands around yours to make them stop before you both began laughing, letting her hug you as an apology for her words.

“You’re so lucky I love you.” You grumbled, leaning closer to her to rest your cheek against her shoulder.

“Opposites attract, you know.” She continued to tease and you poked at her side, glaring half jokingly.

“Not him and I.” You declared sternly, gaze moving back up to the shore where the men still gathered near your tent.

It was nice not having to watch you stick your nose up and complain about the flies as if it was the end of the world. Without you in his ear and sights, he could finally enjoy just a smidge of the day, even if it was pitching his mortal enemy’s tent. If he didn’t think about it too much, he’d forget that it would be keeping you safe and you’d wake up the next morning, living another day to make his life miserable.

Tugging the tarp into place, he zipped it up and down making sure it slid smoothly before dusting off his hands and taking a step back to examine your his work. He tilted his head, shrugging his shoulders not in the mood to fix the lousy frame.

“Besides the crooked roof, it’s not that bad.” He announced, more so glad that his punishment was over.

Jonathan grinned, patting him on the back with a hopeful look as if this was the turning point.

“Well you should tell her she didn’t do a bad job then! Say something nice to her for once.”

Steive chortled looking over to him in disbelief before wagging his finger mockingly.

“Over my dead body.”

Jonathan sighed, sliding away from him and going to grab another beer for himself. Slowly but surely he was giving up on the idea of trying to get you and Steve to get along for the weekend. At this point, he and Nance’s plan was failing terribly, seeing as though neither of you said one good thing to each other all day and it probably would never happen.

Eddie rolled his eyes, resting his back against the tree as he watched you and the girls spinning in the water enjoying yourselves.

“Why can’t you both just put your differences aside and get along?” He wondered, seeing as though you were both capable of being happy, just why not with each other.

Steve darted his eyes up to his obviously, “She’s had it out for me since day one. Never liked me and never even tried to.”

Walking over to your bags, he picked them up along with Robin’s placing them in the tent, but he more so threw yours in, not giving a damn if the tent shook with it.

Eddie sighed, going over to fix it nicely into a corner when Steve turned away.

“To be fair, you haven’t tried to like her either so the odds were never going to be in your favor to begin with.” Jonathan pointed out truthfully.

How were the both of you ever going to get along if you held so much against each other without trying to see it through?

“You sure you don’t have a thing for her deep down? They always say that people who hate each other really just have to settle their differences in bed so they can see eye to eye.” Eddie snickered, patting his back stiffly.

The thought alone made Steve sick. Kissing you? Hugging you? Actually enjoying your existence? That sounded like a nightmare from hell if he’d ever dreamt one. Eddie and Jonathan found it a bit comical, even taking notice of their friends silence, his mind thinking up all the dirty and—

A hard smack landed on Eddie’s arm.

“I don’t know where the hell you heard that from, but I wouldn’t even sleep with her if we were the last two people on Earth.” Steve sneered, nose sticking up with disgust.

Edide rubbed at the skin, he and Jonathan watched as Steve walked away, tugging his shirt off and beginning to make his way into the lake without another word. They knew it was inevitable, the hatred that was brewing in his bones for you, was just a ploy for something else — something you and him didn’t see quite but everyone else did.

“Twenty they finally kiss?” Jonathan challenged, turning to him with an open hand.

Eddie cackled, smirking smugly.

“Twenty-five they end up hooking up tonight,” he added to the wager and to the lines that you and him would cross.

“Deal.”

You rolled your eyes, detaching yourself from Robin catching the sight of Steve inching his way into the lake. Soon after Jonathan and Eddie followed suit, running in like chickens with their heads cut off and splashing all of you with their boy-ness.

It frustrated you more than the way it should have made you angry — the way all your friends could seamlessly get along with him as if he wasn't the worst person you ever met. He even embraced Jonathan in a bromance hug as if at one point in their lives they didn’t despise each other for the girl they both liked.

It was so… confusing?

You let them bask in the presence of Steve, knowing that while you didn’t enjoy time with him, you would never try to rob the rest of your friends from it. Instead you went off on your own, going in just a bit deeper for some privacy as they lingered a few feet behind you.

“Don’t go too far out!” Nancy called out to you knowing you weren’t the best swimmer.

“I know, mom!” You singsonged, looking up at the sky and taking it all in — random cloud shapes and the birds that flocked above.

The camp ground was two hours out from Hawkins, tucked away in a nicer part of town, of course, Steve was the one who suggested the place. Nevertheless it was actually breathtaking, a nice contrast to the small town that you all came from which didn’t have a lake that compared to this, just good ole’ Lover’s Lake and Sattler Quarry.

This would probably be your first and last time camping, so you were trying to make the most of it, not letting the little scuffle totally ruin your experience. You had wished you brought your polaroid along, wanting to snap photos of the view to remember it by but in hindsight it was better to live in the moment.

“Let’s play sharks and minnows!” Robin announced cheerfully, wanting to seize the moment and do something fun she remembered from childhood.

You didn’t pay them any mind, your silence serving as an answer that you’d be sitting that game out and enjoying watching them instead.

Steve cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting loudly, “I call shark!”

They erupted in shrieks, splashing their way farthest from Steve, getting a head start since he was a skilled swimmer.

Eddie, who was a distance away yelled out, “Ready, set, go!”

Steve didn’t even bother mapping out everyone else, they weren’t his prey, you were.

“Better get moving, princess!”

Steve wore an irritatingly smug look, catching your eyes before he dove under the water and made his way towards you.

Your eyes widened, flaring your arms back as you attempted to doggy paddle away from him but it was obvious that he had the upper hand with his skill set. The tips of your toes started to slip from the ground, water pushed up to your collarbones as you still tried to get away from him without drowning.

It was futile trying to lose him, you didn’t even dare to inch further back knowing by then the water would submerge you fully. Instead you opted to sweep the water against him the closer he got to you, though he was unaffected by it still swimming with ease.

“Steve, stop! Go away!” You shouted, kicking your legs trying to get him back.

“Gotcha!” He grinned, popping his head out of the water to stand up straight and wrap his arms around your midsection

You pushed at his chest, trying to get away. “You dickwad! I wasn’t even playing!”

“Too bad!” He stuck his tongue out at you, gripping your skin just a tad tighter and hoisting your legs around his hips.

“Steve put me down, I swear to fucking…oh my god!” You exclaimed, quickly moving your arms around his neck when you felt the woosh of water against your back when he moved you both deeper into the water.

You watched your friends over his shoulder become smaller and smaller, until they were little specks on the shore waving with shit eating grins on their faces knowing that Steve wouldn’t actually do anything to hurt you.

Despite how disgusted you were being so close to him, you had no choice but to hang on for dear life. Steve gave you a bit of height with you over his hips, and had it not been for that, you’d be drowning by now.

“S-Steve, please I can’t swim!” You begged, eyes finally daring to meet him and for once you weren’t looking at him with such disgust but with desperation.

His face contorted with surprise, eyebrows raised and mouth held wide open before tugging up into a lopsided smirk.

“Never thought I’d ever hear that word come out of your mouth… let me hear it one more time?”

His grip barely went slack as you whimpered, using your legs to jerk him back to you before you slapped his chest, fingers gripping his biceps under the water and letting your nails dig painfully into his skin.

“Get me back to the shallow! Right now!” You growled, watching as he winced a bit hissing in a sharp breath feeling the sting.

Seriously, if you were a better swimmer, you’d be out of his grasp by now and holding his head underwater until he floated like dead weight. He had the advantage over you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least put up a fight.

“What’s the magic word?” He teased, exhaling as your nails eased out of his skin yet somehow you still held on to him not wanting to take a risk no matter how revolting he was.

“I. hate. you!” You screamed, starting to thrash around in his arms hoping that your struggle would annoy him so much that he’d bring you back to the shallow just so he wouldn’t have to deal with you.

But instead, he loosened his grip again, using it against you because just as he suspected, you seized your movements immediately, looped your hands around his neck, clinging to him like a koala.

“Still waiting on that magic word.” He singsoned, not being too cruel this time around, wrapping his arms securely around your frame, not actually thinking he’d ever let you go.

You hoped your friends couldn’t read your lips from there or else you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Please.” You gave in, whispering it against his neck.

The hair on the back of his neck stood tall, shivers creeping up his spine feeling a twinge of sympathy for you, but not too much to spare, when you cursed his name right after the fact. Satisfied, he spun around, guiding the two of you back to the bank where you were more comfortable.

Letting out a breath of relief, you relaxed your arms and slightly loosened your legs from around his waist, a little surprised at yourself for being able to stand his skin sticking to yours for so long. This was the most contact you and Steve had ever endured with each other. All of the previous encounters consisted of you smacking him and him chasing you with something gross like a dead roach.

“You didn’t think I’d actually let you drown, did you?” Steve asked, looking down at you.

You rolled your eyes, staring up at him past your lashes. “I don’t know, you’re quite the asshole so I thought so.”

He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, tsking disapprovingly.

“Such a shame you think so lowly of me,” he said acting hurt as rolled your eyes yet again, “here’s payback for earlier.”

His arms abruptly left your body, letting you actually slip out of his hold watching as you went down with a screech that quickly died. You shut your eyes tightly, arms pushing yourself up to the surface where you coughed roughly, his stupid laughter filling your ears when you came to.

“I still hate you!”

You huffed, splashing him once more before trudging towards your friends who watched with glee, thankful for the five minutes of free entertainment that didn’t involve them.

Steve stood where he was, arms crossed, face dripping with lake water, but still wearing a wide smile, more than happy with his little stunt and the fact that he got your blood pressure rising. Something about riling you up, filled him up with a sort of satisfaction, yet he wouldn’t ever admit that you were the only person who could get under his skin the same way he did you.

Surprisingly enough, he stayed away from you during the rest of the time in the lake. Instead, he bothered Eddie and Robin with his stupid ideas to race across the lake and find the biggest pebble to see who could skip it the farthest.

Thankfully for you, you got the bathe in the sunlight, enjoying conversation with Jonathan and Nancy who at first bothered you about the whole you in his arms thing, but eventually gave up when you gave them the death stare. You obviously were holding back something considering you never missed a beat to berate Steve, but this time around, you didn’t even want to get into it — they wondered why?

As the sun slowly began to tumble, casting oranges and pinks in the sky, you felt your fingertips becoming overly pruney, cueing your desire to get out and get freshened up for the evening.

“I’m gonna go wash up.” You announced raising a hand over your forehead to block the light as you stared out at them in the water.

“We’ll be out in a bit!” Robin called through her laughter, continuing her fun in chasing Eddie and Jonathan around in the water with a stick she had found.

You carefully tiptoed through the rocks, making your way up to the camp ground. The tent wasn’t half bad, and to your surprise Steve had actually followed through on his task of finishing it. You’d guess that if he wasn’t so intimidated by Nancy and her threats, he wouldn’t even think about doing it, nevertheless at least now you could say Steve did something useful for you for once, even if it was against his will.

Your bag was already conveniently placed in your tent, so you grabbed your toiletries, a clean towel, and your change of clothes before you walked over to the communal bathrooms where the showers were also located. Thankfully it was just you and your friends on the grounds, so it was fairly clean and had more privacy than usual which was always nice.

You pulled the curtains to one of the stalls back, assessing the area before putting your things down on the shelf and hanging your towel on the railing, stepping in and pulling the curtains closed. Stripping off your swimwear, you wringed out the excess water and hung them on the adjacent wall letting them air dry for the time being.

Cranking the lever, the shower head spritzed alive, letting semi-warm water sprinkle across your skin, rinsing you free of the lake water. You hummed to yourself, raking your fingers through the knots and tangles of your hair, doing your best to get them out before rubbing the skin over your neck and chest.

“You really should have picked the stall away from the sunlight.”

Steve’s voice echoed, halting his footsteps in the doorway as he stared at the figure behind the curtain, the only other person in here was you and he could definitely tell by your pedicured toes peeking under the gap of the shower.

Clenching your jaw, your hands stopped its movements over your body, turning your head over your shoulder as you were met with Steve’s shadow staring right on the other side. If you squinted hard enough you could make out the smirking features on his face, but to your obvious surprise all you could do was shriek.

“Oh my god!” You shielded yourself with your arms as if that would help, seeing as though the curtain alone wasn’t doing its job of saving you your dignity.

He held his hands up, gesturing his arm up and down at the curtain.

“Relax, I can only see your shadow because of the sun.” He explained nonchalantly, walking into the stall beside yours and switching the water on.

You swallowed, still not trusting him completely as you stepped forward, peeling back the curtain a bit to see if anyone else was coming that way.

“Are the rest of them coming? I need to save myself the embarrassment and move to another stall if they are.” You asked rapidly, really hoping that neither of your friends or any visitors would be greeted with your naked silhouette the second they stepped in there.

“They’re playing chicken in the lake so no, they won’t be coming any time soon.” He responded, sounding actually sincere for once, because while he enjoyed messing with you, he still respected your privacy enough to know setting you up like that wasn’t cool.

See… there were boundaries between your hatred, probably ones so low the bar was on the floor...but they were boundaries.

“Thank god.” You sighed, tugging the portion of the curtain closed and walking back into the stream of the water, squeezing some shampoo into your hands as you began lathering it through your scalp.

“By the way, are your tits pierced or were you just excited to see me?”

Your eyes widened, a gasp leaving your mouth while your fingers stopped. His incessant laughter bounced off the walls and rang in your ears like the worst kind of pain, wishing you had taken your chances earlier and at least tried to drown him.

“You’re such a pig!” You said, banging your hands on his side of the wall until his laughter died down scoffing.

He grunted, tapping your wall back harder. “Learn how to take a joke and stop getting your panties in a twist.”

“What’s a joke is that rumor about you being so largely endowed.” You began pretending to gag.

“I heard Stacy Burnham asked you if it was even in and when you said yes she was so disappointed.” You sassed sharply, hoping it would embarrass him enough to shut up.

“I didn’t even hook up with Stacy Burnham!” He retorted ridiculously, knowing that rumor was so absurd and untrue.

You rolled your eyes and wished he could see you, “Not surprised, it probably didn’t feel like much for you either when you’re packing less than three inches.”

Steve scoffed loudly, knowing that was definitely not true and it wasn’t just his ego talking.

“Oh trust me, you wouldn’t even be able to take half of what I’m packing.”

“A half inch? Yeah, cause I’d be too busy crying with disappointment.” You faked sobbed, flipping him off though he couldn’t even see you.

He didn’t have a comeback, clearly not in the mood to argue about what he was packing because truly you’d only believe him if you saw it for yourself. And trust him, he’d burn himself alive before ever thinking about seeing you naked or letting you see him naked.

That was just totally out of the question… and like he told Eddie, it would never happen even if you both were the last people on Earth.

“Let me borrow some soap.” Steve muttered knocking on your wall, hand dangling above your stall waiting for you to pass it over.

“No.” You chuckled, smacking his hand before you grabbed your body wash and rubbed it against your palms to create bubbles.

“Why not?” He coaxed, not putting his hand back down into his stall as you sighed and went on about washing your body.

“You tried to kill me earlier and let me drown.” You reminded him.

“And what would you call that little stunt back there when you tried to stab me to death?” He retorted.

You were quiet, rolling your eyes knowing that he wouldn’t let this go any time soon, so in order to save both of your energies, you simply picked up the bottle of shampoo, thrusting it up into his hand as he chuckled to himself and grabbed it.

“See! Sharing is caring, now, if you need to borrow some brains you know where to find me.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You snapped, trying to enjoy the rest of your shower despite knowing that the only thing that separated you both was a wall.

You showered in complete silence, only Steve knocking on your wall to give you back the products, fingers tapping against his palm to silently ask you for the next. After a few minutes you had finished, finally shutting the water off as you dried down.

You slipped your legs through a fresh pair of underwear, letting it snap against your skin as you worked the fitted cami over your torso and then slipped on the shorts that you rolled over your hips to stop them from falling.

Whipping the curtain back, you didn’t wait for Steve to finish, simply leaving him as you went back towards the tents to hang your still wet swimsuit over a tree branch and stuffing your things back into your bag.

After a few minutes he came out, walking over with his towel around his neck, sporting a loose t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

“Well you’re definitely getting eaten alive by mosquitoes tonight.” He shook his head at your rookie mistake, laughing along with it.

You looked down at yourself, much of your skin left exposed for the same flies that badgered you earlier to feast upon.

“Give me a break, I didn’t know there would be so many flies.”

He walked over to his stuff, plucking out the aerosol can and tossing it over to you, “Here.”

You caught it, looking over the bottle label as he spoke, “It’s the only brand of bug spray that actually works.”

“Thanks.” You mumbled, twisting the bottle open and misting it over your arms and legs, letting the product coat every inch with a light sheen.

You tossed it back, working it into your skin as Steve took his turn to spray it on his exposed arms and neck knowing from experience that waking up to a hundred fly bites was the most uncomfortable itchy pain to be in.

“How were the showers?” Eddie huffed, water dripped off his body as he made his way up to you both, the rest of them following behind.

“Fine, just don’t pick the stall directly at the entrance. Wouldn’t want anyone getting an eye full.”

Steve smirked as you turned beet red, tucking your face into your chest and walking to your bag to pretend to search for something.

Nancy wrapped her arms around herself, biting back the cool air that was coming in from the day winding down.

“Why don’t you guys get started on the fire so that way we can have dinner soon.”

Sunset was just nearly finishing up, only about a half hour of sunlight left before darkness would set in. Steve knew from experience that keeping the fire overnight would be the best bet at having means to some light and warmth.

He nodded, looking around for the items to get it going, “Yeah, sure, where’s the charcoal?”

“Charcoal?” Jonthan asked, confused, scratching the temple of his head, not remembering seeing it when you were all loading Eddie’s van that morning.

Steve nodded his head obviously, looking around at the group. “For the fire? I told you guys to pick it up.”

You sighed, standing up to face them with your hands on your hips. “Don’t tell me you guys forgot it.”

“Are we doomed if we say we did?” Eddie spoke, a guilty inflection in his voice, because he was totally in charge of that but it had slipped his mind.

Steve shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just means that now we have to find some sticks and leaves. Do it the old fashioned way.”

Robin the ever so considerate one, starting snapping her fingers, pointing between you and Steve biting back her sneaky smile.

“So stop standing around and start searching! We don’t want to lose daylight before then.”

Taking a deep breath in you held back your comments of how you didn’t want to go anywhere alone with Steve since he obviously had a death wish for you. However it was obvious that this was going to be a group effort, and if you wanted to make it out of here alive, you would just have to suck it up and follow Steve’s lead.

He stared down at your bare feet, pointing at your tent.

“Put some shoes on and let’s go.” He said, before the others smiled contently, running off to the showers and leaving you both alone again.

“This is the last time I’m ever camping.” You grumbled sliding on a fresh pair of socks and slipping your shoes on, bending to tie them up.

Steve tapped his foot against the grass, shaking his head at you and your ability to nit-pick every little thing.

“You know, it would be more enjoyable if you’d stop making every minor inconvenience a big deal.”

You finished off the ties with a tug, walking over to him and glaring at his hypocrisy with an instance you were all too familiar with.

“Are you really one to be talking Mr. I got mad at Dustin Henderson for using up all my hairspray even when my date flaked on me?”

He hated that you remembered that even when it had been months ago since it happened. Neither you nor Dustin let him live it down because it was the first time he let a girl get in between his extraordinary ability to be the charming babysitter he made himself out to be. Dustin, so annoyed with his attitude, didn’t ask Steve for any rides to the arcade nor did he visit him at Scoops for a whole two weeks.

Instead, you took on the babysitting role, driving him to the arcade, dropping him off to school, and even picking the kid up at Star Court when all his friends caught a ride with Steve to be dropped off back at their place. Steve thought Dustin was being ridiculous about the whole thing until you pulled up in your car, wearing the biggest smile as you rolled down your window and sent him a cold smirk.

“Not such a great babysitter anymore, huh?” You laughed, watching as his face fell and Dustin got into the passenger of your car, waving goodbye to his friends while you sped off.

Safe to say, Steve apologized to the kid, terribly sorry and embarrassed by his behavior and even throwing in a bottle of hairspray and a free banana split every time he came into Scoops as an apology gift.

The two of you followed the trail a few feet out from the campground, trucking through an uneven rocky path and outgrown bushes. He was clearly more familiar with the area given his experience, knowing exactly where to go, taking a shortcut that passed cut through the bumpy trail and led you to a small area of dirt and trees.

“We’re looking for sticks about this size, but really any twig or stick will do.” He spoke, reaching down to pick up a large stick and show it to you.

You looked around, eyes peeled out for the sticks that were scattered in the area.

“And what about leaves?” you asked.

“Those too, but they’ve gotta be dry, almost crumbly.” He specified, walking off to start the collection process.

“Got it.”

You and Steve worked the best when there was no talking involved, perhaps that's why your friends always suggested going out to see a movie at the theaters instead of at each other's homes where you both would clearly not give a damn about causing a disturbance. But despite that, right then you both were going a whole ten minutes without insulting one another or making threats to see the other dead.

When you picked up the wrong stick of a leaf that wasn’t crumbly enough, he just grunted, shaking his head until you dropped it and found another that would suffice. That system was working well so far, so maybe that was the key: limited talking.

“Go drop that pile off and come back for more, we’re gonna need a whole bunch to last until morning.” Steve instructed, noticing that you had already gathered quite a bit in your arms.

You peered into his arms, his pile about the same size as yours, maybe a little smaller.

“Want me to take some of yours?” You suggested, wanting to save you both a few more trips up there.

He nodded, carefully stacking them on top of what you already had, steadying the pile and removing the bigger ones to ensure it didn’t tumble over while you were walking down. When you got all that you could carry, Steve gave you a cautious look.

“Be careful and walk slowly, the path gets rocky when you get closer to the camp. If you fall, just scream and I’ll hear you.” He was so serious about it, like a true camp counselor, or as you liked to call him...

“Heard you loud and clear, boy scout.” You hummed, turning around and making your way carefully down the trail.

For once you actually listened to what he said, taking your time and not rushing your way down knowing it wouldn’t do you or him any good if you ended up taking a spill and losing all the fire starter then scratching yourself up in the process. You remembered the shortcut he took, a right turn that he conveniently marked with a X in the dirt. Just a little more walking before the campsite came back into view and still no signs of your friends being done yet.

You dumped the sticks and leaves near the outside of the fire pit that was in the center of the camp. Dusting your hands off and taking a deep breath, you looked back up the hilly trail where Steve was somewhere up there waiting for you to come back.

“C’mon, princess.” You muttered to yourself, feet taking you back there with fast steps trying to beat the sunlight.

Clearly the outdoors just wasn’t your thing, easily becoming winded despite the fact that the trail wasn’t that steep. But you were trying to cut yourself some slack because for a rookie, you kinda got the hang of keeping your balance and not getting lost through the unknown woods.

“H-how many more piles do we need? I can’t do this five more times.” You huffed, hands on your hips as you caught your breath watching Steve dump a few more sticks in a pile on the ground.

He peered over at you, wiping the sweat that beaded on his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Probably one more, will do.” He answered, strolling further up, just to grab a bit more in case.

You honestly didn’t know how a small town city boy like him was so good at things like this — usually he was only good at picking up girls and making a doofus out of himself when he didn’t know how to talk about anything else beside him.

Maybe it was those annual Harrington trips he took when he was a little boy or maybe he really was secretly a boy scout and been hiding it all along, either way, thank god it was him doing most of the dirty work and not you.

“Should I bring these down or do you want me to wait?” You shouted loud enough for him to hear glancing over at the piles he made while you picked a few more sticks up.

“You can— fuck!” He winced, clutching his palm in his other hand, starting to feel a sharp pain shoot in around the area.

Hastily you dropped the sticks, abandoning the pile and racing to where he was while trying not to fall so that you could see what exactly was going on. There was a pained look on his face, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he turned away and tried to shake it off. But alas you reached for his wrist, bringing his hand towards you to access.

“Shit, you’re bleeding.” You whispered, bringing the injured hand closer to see if the gash was deep or not, but you couldn’t quite tell with the small pooling of blood in the way.

Steve jutted his chin downwards, showing you the jagged stone responsible.

“I didn’t see it when I went for the stick.” He explained.

You nodded, releasing his wrist gently. “C’mon, we need to get it cleaned and bandaged before it gets infected.”

“I gotta grab the—”

“No!” You yelped, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt when he attempted to bend down for more sticks despite his injury.

He stopped, visibly stunned at your sudden attentiveness that was usually never present when it came to him.

“I’ll carry those, but you don’t pick up or hold anything else. If a splinter gets in there I’ll be the one needing to dig it out and it'll only hurt more.” You said sternly, shaking your head at him like he should have known better.

“I thought you liked seeing me in pain.” Steve smirked somehow still able to be a little shit even with a fucked up hand.

“I do,” You tilted your head, but sighed, “But I really don’t need the one person who actually knows what they’re doing to be the first one dead.”

“Fine by me.” Steve shrugged, forced to watch you pick up all the sticks and leaves by yourself, he followed behind you as you occasionally looked behind your shoulder to see if he was okay.

When you both finally made it back to the tents, you dropped the pile, pointing at the foldable chairs a few feet from the pit.

“Go over there.” You instructed, brushing past him with vigor as you went to your tent to retrieve the first aid kit you packed for emergencies like this, though you were really hoping you didn’t have to use it.

You flipped the case open, taking a look at all the materials it contained while you walked over to him, kneeling in front of him and deciding what you were going to do. Grabbing an alcohol wipe, you disinfected your hands before you tapped his knee.

“Show me.” You demanded, holding your hand out, until he reluctantly placed it in yours giving you a closer look at the gash.

The blood had stopped so you knew it wasn’t that deep of a cut that would require stitches or staples, but it most definitely needed to be wrapped up to prevent an infection and trip to the emergency room.

You reached into the kit for a fresh alcohol pad, ripping it open with your teeth as you steadied his hand in yours.

“Just get it over with already.” He muttered, head turning away anticipating the sting that was going to be worse than your nails digging into him.

“Don’t be a wimp.” You joked, swiping it gently over the area to get it clear from the drying blood and any outside contaminants. He didn’t pull back, only sucking in a deep breath from the mild burn but after a few seconds the worst part was done.

“See, not so bad, right, big boy?” You laughed, patting his knee again before throwing aside the bloodied napkin as he swallowed thickly, waiting for your next steps.

He watched you carefully, grabbing some sort of ointment, squeezing a small dollop onto your finger before you dabbed it over the cut making sure to coat it evenly. Then you placed two pieces of gauze over the top to keep it extra clean and enclosed.

You repositioned his arm, letting his elbow rest upright on his knee.

“I’m gonna tape you up now, so try not to get it wet, but if you do I can always rewrap it.” You told him, getting the tape ready.

Steve was surprised by your skill, expertly maneuvering the tape through his fingers, across his palm and over his wrist, repeating it a few times to ensure that the gauze wouldn’t budge and would keep the cut sealed tight.

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” He asked curiously, watching as you smoothed out the creases as you went.

You shrugged, doing one last wrap around for good measure, “I had a phase where I thought I wanted to be a nurse.” You grinned, teeth wrapping around the excess tape to rip it off before you flattened the remainder over his wrist.

He nodded slowly, stammering out,“T-thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” You brushed it off, cleaning up the bloody wipes and putting the first aid kit back in your bag after disinfecting your hands once more.

The sun was nearly covered by the clouds, painting the sky a darker orange shade as nightfall threatened to spill over soon. At this point, the fire needed to be started, now — no more distractions and no more arguing.

“So?” You shot Steve a look, then back down at the fire pit, “Wanna tell me what I need to do to get this thing started or what?”

Steve was more than capable of getting it done himself with one good hand, but seeing as though you were pretty stern in his efforts to not carry a single stick, not even a paper light leaf, he knew this would be no different. Instead he moved to stay beside you, acting as supervisor just so he could make sure you were doing the right thing.

“You’re gonna wanna start by making a bed with the leaves.” He instructed, watching as you dropped down on your hands and knees to get low enough into the pit as you threw them in, trying your best to make it as leveled as possible.

“It looks good,” He praised, giving you a tight smile when you looked up at him waiting for the next steps.

“You want to do it the old fashioned way or do you want to use Eddie’s lighter?” He chuckled, knowing he’d pick the easy way just like you were going to.

“Fuck that, I’m not a cave woman, where the hell is the lighter?” You strided towards his and Eddie’s tent, rummaging through the metal heads duffle bag until you felt the familiar body of the lighter.

You went back into place, flicked it on and looked at Steve cautiously until he nodded, granting you permission to set the bed of leaves on fire. Blindlessly you passed the lighter up to him, watching as the flames slowly engulfed the leaves and began to crackle.

“Now start adding a few sticks. We’re gonna need to add more throughout the night to feed the fire.” He said watching as you carefully threw some in, doing your best to cover the bed beneath it until only a little of the fire was exposed.

“Alright, that’s good enough.” He bent down patting your shoulder and feeling the warmth of the fire starting to get hotter.

“Well that wasn’t so hard.” You grinned to yourself dusting off your hands and knees, happy with your outdoor accomplishments thus far.

“Technically the lighter made the fire.” He shot back, flicking it between you both as you rolled your eyes and blew the flame out.

“Oh shut it.” You muttered, going to busy yourself with something else while Steve put the lighter back where it came from.

You propped open the rest of the chairs, randomly placing them around everyones tents and two extra ones right in front of the fire pit. Steve was watching the fire, making sure it didn’t get too big or burned too slowly — so far the bed of leaves you built were holding up and it didn’t seem like it’d be going out until morning tomorrow.

After a few minutes the voices of your friends came tumbling out of the bathrooms, seeing them all dressed in their PJ’s that somehow showed they were more prepared than you. All of them decked out in long sleeves, hoodies, and sweatpants — god, you wished you got the memo.

“Damn this is cool! I’ve only ever seen a campfire in movies!” Eddie enthusiastically ran closer, peering into the bright orange pit.

You looked over at all of them, dramatically holding your arms wide open.

“Were you guys having a foursome or something?! Steve and I did all the work and he even got banged up in the process.” You said, walking over to him to lift and show them his injured hand.

Robin gasped, running up to his side to check up on him, obviously worried for her best friend, “What the heck happened.”

Steve shrugged looking over at you with a somewhat grateful look, “Grazed a sharp rock, but it’s fine. She wrapped it up and we’re all good to go now.”

“Well shit, sorry we took so long,” Jonathan apologized half-heartedly, while his mind was celebrating that you both actually seemed to work well together when it was needed.

“Eddie and Robin thought they saw a spider in the showers so we all had to take turns using one stall.” Nancy rolled her eyes, giving you an apologetic look, the both of you knowing Robin and Eddie were a tad bit dramatic at times.

“It’s fine, but you can make it up to us by cooking.” You grinned, you and Steve giving each other a sly look before you pointed at the icebox of food waiting to be cooked.

So you and Steve finally got to kick back… in silence of course.

You both sat in the foldable chairs, watching as the four worked diligently over the fire — Nancy holding skewers of hot dogs over the flame, Robin prodding at the potatoes wrapped in foil with a pair of tongs, Jonathan toasting the hot dog buns one by one, and Eddie feeding the fire with a few more smaller sticks.

He peered over at your silent figure, watching the way you zoned off into your own world, somehow right beside him yet a world away. You were probably thinking about something else, either all the remarks you wanted to snap his way yet were held back or maybe you were making a list of new ones to call him tomorrow.

But he cleared his throat, attempting to get you back here with him, “Do you uhh, want a drink?” Steve asked, breaking the silence.

You blinked, turning to watch him flip open the cooler to grab himself a beer while he looked back at you waiting for your request.

“Water, please.” You said, watching as he dug his non injured hand into the ice box to pull you out an ice cold water bottle, shutting the box closed.

“Thank you.” You said softly twisting it open to take a sip.

While doing so, you furrowed your brows, noticing the way that Steve struggled with the twist off since he was using his non-dominant hand. He almost went to put the bottle in his mouth to use his pearly whites as an opener before you quickly capped off your drink and stepped in.

“Give it here.” You said, taking the glass from his hand, and tucking the lid under your shirt to stop it from pinching your skin as you effortlessly twisted it open.

“Thank you.” Steve nodded with a small smile, taking it from you as you shook your head with a grin and went back to watching your friends.

Steve couldn’t wrap his head around how you could be so selfless but at the same time so selfish. You’d do anything your friends asked of you at the drop of a hat, maybe even without them asking to begin with — you’d just jump in and do it. But when it came to him, half the time you didn’t give a damn, ignoring every warning or piece of unwarranted advice he’d thrown your way.

It was utterly confusing, considering that you were the most selfless person to him today than you’d ever been before. You could’ve left him to deal with the cut by himself seeing as though he still had one good hand left, and honestly you could’ve left him to do the stick and leaf collecting all by himself… but you didn’t.

On a regular day if he even dared to ask for your help, the answer would be “no,” with no explanation other than the fact that you just didn’t want to have anything to do with him. So it struck a chord in his mind, wondering why now? It couldn’t just be because you both were in the middle of nowhere, he knew that much.

Why all of a sudden was there this shift, the one where you helped him without receiving anything back?

“How is the food coming along?” You whistled towards your friends.

Nancy smiled widely, holding one of the skewers up, “It’s almost done! Maybe two more minutes!”

Robin pouted, snapping the metal tongs to get your attention, “The potatoes need a bit more time, they’re still hard as rocks.” she huffed, resting her chin on her knees.

“Did you poke them with holes?” You wondered as she frowned and shook her head.

“Was I supposed to? I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” She apologized ridiculously for something that wasn’t a big deal.

You shook your head shooting her a reassuring smile.

“S’okay! They’re gonna cook through, but sometimes poking holes just speeds it up a bit… It's okay! If anything, we can have them for breakfast.”

“Okie dokie!” She smiled, happy that she didn’t entirely sit there for nothing.

He hated himself for watching you so carefully, taking notice of the bright smile you flashed against the moonlight and how your voice was so syrupy sweet. He never took notice of it before, but you had a radiance about you, something that everyone seemed to catch except him.

Maybe it was because half the time you were shooting daggers through him and screaming your lungs off, but now, for the first time, he felt like he was seeing a different side of you — the one he tried to fight off knowing for so long.

“Are you okay?” You furrowed your brows, waving your hand in front of Steve’s face.

He shook his head, snapping out of it and nodding awkwardly, “Y-yeah, I’m fine… you?”

“I’m okay.” You told him, turning your attention back to your friends.

Maybe it was your tiredness that was preventing you from being the bitch that you usually were to him or maybe you felt a little bad for him because of his injuries, but whatever it was filled the air with some sort of calmness that usually wasn’t around when he was in your vicinity.

Really, on most days, if you’d caught Steve staring at you, which most times he wasn’t unless it was full of revulsion, you would have snapped and told him to take a lap, but it was almost as if you could feel what his eyes were doing.

His gaze drinking you in slowly like the beer in his hands and trying to understand your craft. He didn’t stare through you, nor at you, but to you… trying to get under your skin in a way he hadn’t done before.

It felt…weird, so awkwardly weird. On a regular day the both of you could barely go two minutes without cursing each other out the second either of you spoke a word to each other. Now all of a sudden you both had your P’s and Q’s ready for each other along with genuine concerns about the other’s wellbeing?

God, you both couldn’t wait for it to go back to normal.

“Food’s ready!” Eddie called out, slicing through the unspoken tension.

You and Steve stood up, heading towards the food knowing you were both dying to have something in your systems after a long day. Beating him to it, you plated him a hot dog swiftly moving on as if the little gesture meant nothing.

“Condiments?” You asked, picking up the ketchup bottle, giving it a good shake before squeezing a dollop on your plate.

“Huh?” He asked confused, too wound up about your niceness.

“Do you want any condiments on your hot dog?” You clarified once more, raising your brow up at him.

He needed to stop reading into things so much.

“Oh, y-yeah” He nodded, watching as you squeezed some for him, “and mustard please,” he said, and you nodded, reaching for the yellow bottle and doing the same before you capped it off and left him in the dust when you went to sit with the girls.

Eddie snuck up from behind him, just nearly whispering into his ear lowly, “Aren’t you two being friendly for once?”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows when Steve looked back at him a bit startled. He rolled his eyes, walking over to the chairs near their tent and plopping down.

“She’s pitying me because of my hand.”

“Or she just genuinely wants to help you out?” Jonathan chimed in taking a seat beside him.

Steve shook his head, picking up his food, “I doubt that. She’s probably gonna use this against me for the rest of eternity.” He replied before taking a bite.

“I don’t think so man, I think she actually cares, and I think you like that she cares.” Eddie waved his finger in the air before poking at his cheek.

Steve snapped his teeth, pretending to bite the finger that Eddie quickly pulled away. Jonathan laughed at the banter because of course Eddie had to be the one to stir the pot when things were staring to cool and settle.

“She doesn’t give a damn about me….”

Steve started, trailing his eyes to where you were, watching you share whispers to the girls before you met his eyes for a split second.

“She still hates my guts.” He said as you snapped your eyes back to Nancy and Robin.

“Did we miss something while you guys were gone?” Nancy raised her brows, glancing back at Steve and the boys who were engrossed in their own conversations whilst they ate.

You shook your head towards her, swallowing your food before speaking.

“Nope, why do you say that?” You buzzed, wondering why all of a sudden she thought something had happened.

Robin chimed in swiftly, nudging your arm with a weak punch, shooting you a more than obvious look.

“Cause you guys haven’t tried to kill each other for the past hour and a half and you actually could stand to sit beside him without arguing.”

You tilted your head at her incredulously.

“I thought you guys wanted us to get along?”

“Oh, we do…” Nancy nodded enthusiastically, “we’re just wondering what made it happen considering you both tried to kill each other a few hours ago.”

Letting out a deep breath, you tried to give your best irritated look under your tiredness.

“We’re just tired that’s all. We’ve run out of insults and to be quite honest, I need to recharge my battery with some sleep before attempting to murder him tomorrow. Before you know it we’ll be at each other’s throats again.” You explained hoping they would drop it.

But of course they didn’t.

“Would it kill you to, I don’t know, be a little more positive on the outlook of you and Steve’s relationship.” Robin beamed hopefully.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you glanced over at Steve’s figure.

“He still hates me,” you said, meeting his orbs split, “I know it,” you muttered, tearing your eyes away.

Neither Nancy, nor Eddie, or Jonathan, and Robin didn’t believe a goddamn word that came out of your mouths when it came to each other. Clearly things were starting to unfold and whatever it was that happened when they weren’t around to see it was obviously just the catalyst.

So many things that went unspoken for way too long were lingering in the air and they all knew you needed the space to confront it.After a while of eating, Nancy dramatically yawned, gesturing her boyfriend over to her with wide eyes silently telling him to go along with what she was doing, without you or Steve taking notice.

“We’re gonna head to bed now.” She announced, tiredly clinging to her boyfriend's side.

Jonathan nodded, wrapping his arms over her shoulders.

“Yeah, we’ll see you guys in the morning.” He said, the two of them beginning to get into their tents while calling out their goodnights to you all.

“Wake us up if you need anything.” You called out as they both hummed and zipped up their tarp for the night.

You were going to turn in too, really you were more than tired, just needing a good night's rest so that you’d be ready to go in the morning. Throwing out your plate, you walked over to your tent to grab your toothbrush and other nighttime necessities.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” You said, walking towards the bathrooms.

“Wait up,” Steve called out, grabbing his own brush and jogging towards where you waited so you guys could go together.

Robin tilted her head towards your tent, as Eddie nodded, swiftly grabbing his lighter and pre rolls from his duffle bag and joining Robin inside the structure. That honestly wasn’t a part of the plan, seeing as though he was going to keep the blunt to himself, but now it was just convenient and would make the perfect excuse.

Steve didn’t bother to settle to the empty sink beside yours, instead he switched the water on letting you run your brush under the faucet first before he did his. You squeezed a strip of toothpaste over your bristles before doing the same to his guessing he forgot to pack his own which he totally did.

The both of you stood in front of the mirror, brushing in silence with the water trickling weakly. Your eyes drifted from his face to his hand that rested at his side stiffly. You knew it was probably still a little sore, but by tomorrow morning the pain should subside enough for him to move it a little more freely.

“Do you want me to rewrap your hand?” You offered, mouth still full of toothpaste as you spoke mumbly.

He met your eyes in the mirror, lifting his hand towards you, trusting your opinion rather than his own.

“What do you think?”

You stopped your brushing for just a second, leaving the brush between your cheek and teeth as you picked up his hand and gave it a good look to see if there was any oozing blood or loose tape — which there was neither.

Putting his arm down gently, you shook your head. “Looks fine, I’ll just clean it and change the gauze in the morning.”

“Okay.” He mumbled, smiling softly.

Steve let you rinse first, leaning up against the wall as he watched you spit out the residue and wipe your mouth clean. You stepped away, letting him have his go while you reached into your small toiletry bag, placing your brush back inside and twisting open your lip balm to smooth over your lips.

“Want some?” You raised your brow, seeing him watch you while he swigged some water in his mouth.

He spat, turning off the water and looking at the tube, “Birthday cake?” He questioned the flavor on the label.

“Tastes like vanilla and strawberries.” You said as he shrugged, puckering his lips towards you as you applied a thin layer before capping it off and throwing it back into your bag.

He smacked his lips together, a bit of his tongue coming out to lick at it, “I can’t taste it?”

“You’re not actually supposed to eat it, Steve.” You chided, shaking your head as you both walked to the tents.

“Then why would they advertise it as birthday cake if I can’t taste the cake?” He retorted, still trying to lick at his slimy lips to taste it.

You didn’t want to get into with him over some stupid lip balm flavor so instead you held back, listening to his lips smacking, persistent on getting to try the artificial taste while you tried not to laugh. As you got closer to the tents, a different smell lingered in the air along with the smokey aroma of the fire.

“Do you smell that?” You sniffed the air, turning to Steve seeing him do the same.

He sniffled in a few times, deciphering the smell and after a few seconds, he knew exactly what it was, an unmistakable likeness to the back of Eddie’s van.

“It’s weed.”

You looked around, realizing the absence of Eddie and Robin who were just sitting near the campfire before you went to the bathroom. Now, you noticed your tent that was half unzipped was completely sealed and if you listened close enough you could hear the whispers being spoken from inside.

You stomped over to them, unzipping the tarp, pulling it roughly.

“Are you guys insane?” You hissed, tossing in your toiletry bag while staring at them in annoyance.

“Insanely hiiiigh.” Robin hiccuped with a giggle joined by Eddie’s snorts while he took another hit.

Steve peered in from behind you, his expression stern.

“You’re not even supposed to bring that stuff onto the camp ground, you’re gonna get us kicked out, dumbass.” Steve scolded, ripping the joint from Eddie and putting it out against the ground.

“Hey! That was a special strain!” Eddie argued, attempting to reach for it but Steve pulled it behind his back, not letting up.

“I don’t care.” You said dryly, “you need to get out and go to your tent so I can sleep.”

You attempted to pull him out by the arm but he didn’t budge as easily as you thought he would.

“No, wait! Ten more minutes!” Robin whined, smacking your arm away from her friend, “You guys are letting all the good stuff out!”

Zipping up the tent, you and Steve backed away defeatedly. You ran your hands through your hair, closing your eyes briefly trying not to let their little antics tick you off despite your exhaustion.

“Ten minutes and I’m counting!” You warned, thumping the top of the tent before you flopped down onto the chairs hoping time would fly faster.

Steve looked at you apologetically, holding back his joking comment about how it didn’t matter that he built your tent, seeing as though you were locked out, but he didn’t want to make you more irritated than you already were… surprising right?

“Night?” He said, shooting you a remorseful smile when he stopped in front of your chair.

“Goodnight, Steve.” You yawned, waving him off as you hugged yourself to bear the cold clad in nothing but your tank and shorts.

He nodded walking to his tent a few feet away, toeing off his shoes before giving you one last look until he zipped his tent closed. He reached for the small flashlight he packed, putting it on its lowest setting so that Eddie could see when he came in. Giving his pillow a pat, he laid back pulling his blanket over himself and attempting to close his eyes and rest.

Sleep should have come easy seeing as though he had been up since seven in the morning, yet he still couldn’t fall into slumber no matter how hard he tried. He knew it wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t in his bedroom because he’d been camping times before and sleep naturally came easy but tonight it just wasn’t budging.

He shifted uncomfortably, aware of the passing minutes that stretched beyond ten, and Eddie still hadn't joined him. He was totally sure he didn’t even hear you give them another warning from the outside, meaning that you were definitely asleep on that chair.

Sitting up to peek through the small gap he left open, there you were — head tilted back, eyes closed, arms hugging your body, seemingly oblivious to the bitter cold that was going to leave you with hypothermia. If he was really feeling like being an asshole to you, he would’ve left you out there to suffer the consequences of your actions, but he couldn’t.

Quietly stepping outside, Steve approached, bending down to gently nudge you awake.

“Psttt, wake up," he whispered, cautious not to disturb Nancy and Jonathan nearby who were dead asleep by now.

You responded with a sleepy mumble, lips curling up as you somehow shifted deeper into the chair that was not designed to sleep in like that no matter how tired someone could be.

He tried again, this time more rigid in his efforts by grabbing your hand and squeezing it, “Wake up.”

Feeling his toasty hand in yours, you groggily opened your eyes, dazed orbs looking into his.

“What?” You grumbled, eyes opening to be met with Steve’s filled with confusion.

Without much explaining, he squeezed your hand again, pulling you up, “You’re crashing in my tent tonight.”

You had no choice but to let him pull you along, stumbling behind him as sleep still clouded your senses.

“Why?” You groaned, rubbing at your eyes while he guided you to his tent where he widened the tarp, gesturing for you to enter.

“Because that special strain Eddie was talking about was for sleep. Neither of them are gonna budge till morning.” He informed you, resting a gentle hand on the small of your back to keep you up right as you lazily toed your shoes off.

“Well fuck me.” You muttered under your breath crouching when you stepped into the small space.

He snorted behind you, “In your dreams.” He said before zipping it up.

“Shut up,” you groaned, crawling towards the empty space beside him.

Now it was starting to feel like things were going back to normal.

You settled into what would have been Eddie’s side, a half fluffed pillow under your head and nothing else. Though their overall set up was way more comfortable than what you and Robin had going on in yours. Steve had layered a sleeping mat beneath the comforter, making the surface a little more plush that way no rocks or gravel could be felt under the tarp — plus it added an extra layer of warmth, something you desperately needed right now.

Laying on your back, you left a good distance between you both, wrapping your arms around yourself once again hoping that now you’d be able to sleep comfortably even if it was beside Steve. Closing your eyes, you focused on breathing trying to not think so hard about the shivers in your bones knowing you wouldn’t be able to feel them once you fell asleep.

“I can hear your teeth clattering.” Steve sighed, casting a glance towards you where you laid beside him, starting to rub your hands up and down your arms in an attempt to generate warmth.

“I obviously wasn’t prepared for this, and my blanket is in my tent.” You muttered, eyes still closed and tucking your knees into yourself to find some semblance of comfort.

He made a thoughtful noise, lifting up his blanket and turning his body towards you. You could feel the space tighten, the fuzzy material of his blanket skimming your bare skin.

“Get under here.” He whispered, nodding his head when you finally opened your eyes looking at him with uncertainty and confusion.

You didn’t know what to make of it, if this was some kind of cruel joke he was playing on you, where he was actually going to hog it for himself and let you spend the rest of the night with your teeth clattering.

But deep down he wasn’t all that bad, sure he poked fun at you and made your blood boil like no other, but when it came down to morals, he had some saved for you… at least for now it seemed like.

Steve raised his brow at your hesitance, lifting the blanket up higher.

“What’re you waiting for? Do you want to freeze to death because by all means let me know.” He challenged pretending as if he wouldn’t care.

You swallowed thickly, turning your back towards him as you cautiously scooted under the blanket, feeling its comforting weight draped over your body. His fingers funneled you over more of the material, letting you have most of it as you quietly thanked him, tucking the throw under your neck where your fingers held it tight.

This was totally out of character coming from Steve knowing it would’ve hurt his ego a lot less if he’d just given you the blanket for yourself and spent the night with no covering. But for some reason you couldn’t place the gesture, not knowing why he would go out of his way for you or if this was some ulterior motive to hold against you in the future.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind me dead.” You said, trying to find a way to ease the awkwardness that you felt in your mind when he was just inches behind you.

“I don’t,” he laughed, his breath grazing the back of your neck. “But I don’t want to haul your frozen body in the back of Eddie’s van.” He added with a playful glint.

There was your old Steve, back.

“C-can we just go to bed?” You stuttered, clearing your throat as you rested your head deeper into the pillow just wanting to dream off somewhere, anywhere but right there in reality.

“Sure.” He agreed, shifting slightly before settling down and closing his eyes.

Silence enveloped you both, just the sounds of crickets from the outside and gentle crackling of the fire that burned slow in the air.

Part of you wished he maybe would have left you out there to fend for yourself or maybe just threw his blanket over you for good measure, but somehow, being in here with him, tucked away from the rest of the world made you feel even more awake than before. It was obvious, neither of you were going to be falling asleep so easily, the tension so thick you could barely breathe through it.

Steve at least tried to fall asleep, focusing on something to dream about but you were overwhelming his senses making his nerves go into overdrive. Sure he already reeked of all of your products that he had borrowed in the shower, but now it was a combination of their scents attached to your skin and hair that was filling his nostrils. It didn’t help that you unconsciously let out those soft noises, as your body shook, not fully taking in the warmth just yet.

Shifting slightly, your back unintentionally met his forearms that rested behind you. His eyes snapped open, feeling the coolness against his skin, shifting up slightly just enough to see your face.

“How are you still freezing?” Steve yelped, pulling his arm back from your frosty skin.

You sighed heavily, repositioning your body to face him with a grunt, throwing all caution to the wind and not caring about how intimate this was. Both of you had already crossed so many lines that defined your hate fueled relationship… one more thing couldn’t hurt.

“I’m a-always cold.” You whispered, jaw wobbling through the shivers taking deep breaths to try to relax yourself.

Steve raised his eyebrows and stared at you worriedly, “So you dying is just inevitable tonight, that’s what you’re saying?”

It came out a bit too sarcastic than he meant it to be since he was just genuinely curious to know if you were going to make it out alive tonight or if you needed to get into Eddie’s van and crank up the heater.

You rolled your eyes, whispering in frustration.

“I can’t help it alright! Had I been in my tent, I’d be fine!”

Steve brushed your irritation off, instead moving his arms under the blanket, hovering his hands over your waist.

“Well you’re not, so I’m gonna swallow my pride and do something about it alright?” He said slowly letting his hands slide over your cold skin, watching as your face twisted with confusion.

“What are you… oh god.” You groaned realizing exactly where this was going – a mirror to earlier in the lake, but this time you weren’t so disgusted.

He was practically a human furnace, pulling you closer into him barely leaving inches while the warmth from his body cascaded onto yours. You tried not to tense or move abruptly, aware that his bad hand was weakly grasping your back and the last thing you wanted was to make it worse.

Instead you froze, breathing stopped for a second as you searched his face trying to see how he was feeling about this whole thing. He didn’t look displeased or annoyed that he was doing this for you, instead he was calm, cool, and collected as if he wasn’t holding the girl who tried to stab him a few hours ago.

“Do you have a better idea?” Steve suggested, looking down at you awaiting to see your next moves: either telling him to fuck off or staying silent for the rest of the night.

To his surprise, you eased into his hold, hooking your own arms under his and closing the rest of the space between you. Your chest was pressed up against his, one of your legs fastened over his hip, while the other knocked against his thigh. It was a definite contrast to the hours earlier where he practically lugged you through the lake, if only you knew things would be so different now.

“We are not to speak about this after tonight. Not even a peep.” You warned, squirming impossibly closer to him before shooting him a serious look.

He nodded, eyes shutting tightly like he was trying to dream it away.

“I’m erasing this from my memory as we speak.”

“Goodnight.” You whispered, closing your eyes, hoping that would be the end of it.

“Night.” He muttered back.

Third times a charm… or maybe not.

In this position you could feel everything and there was no way to escape it.

His warm breath fanning over your face, his chest rising and falling against yours, the soft thumpthump of his heart echoing beneath your ear, and the hair on his arms delicately brushing against your exposed skin — everything was him wrapped up in your arms. Literally.

Steve could feel it, the way you tried to control your breathing by taking a breath in when he breathed out. But you were trying too hard to time it perfectly, overthinking and making sure he didn’t notice when it’s all he could really do, your back heaving against his hands was all it took for him to speak up.

“Relax,” Steve murmured gingerly digging his fingertips into your skin with his eyes still closed

“H-huh?” You opened your eyes watching his serene features that showed he wasn’t as edgy as you.

“I can feel you…” He started, voice low and silky as he spoke, “you’re nervous.”

You shook your head as if he could see you, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I…I’m not nervous, it’s just—this is different, we don’t do this.” You explained only partially truthfully considering you were more than just nervous.

“It’s just for tonight.” He said trying to iron out your worries the best that he could.

“No, I know, it’s just that—”

“I can feel your eyes on me, you know?”

Steve chuckled, peeking one of his eyes open, catching you in the act of trying to pinch them closed before he noticed.

You crumbled, letting out a weak laugh as you just opened them, finding him doing the same. The two of you staring at each other, the only sliver of light from the small beam in the corner of the tent, accompanied with the moonlight seeping weakly past the tarp.

Steve lifted his head just a bit, gesturing back to his bag just a few feet away from where you both were in the middle of the area.

“Do you just want to take the blanket? I have a hoodie I can use in my—” His arms ever so slightly loosed and you stopped him.

Your fingertips squeezed tenderly into back, your leg pushing down on his hip to stop him from moving any further.

“No, its fine, this is fine. I don’t mind sharing.”

“You sure?” He laughed quietly, resting his head back down on the pillow.

“Cause you don’t have to pretend you want to share? We hate each other so I’m very familiar with our dislike when we’re forced to be around one another.” He reminded you, his tone light hearted not exuding any malice this time around.

You swallowed, nodding your head reassuringly as you let up your tense hold on him.

“I know…I-I still hate you, but I can deal with this for one night.”

“And you’re okay with this? Us… cuddling?” He asked, just wanting to be extra sure because cuddling didn’t have to be a part of it if you didn’t want it.

“Positive.” You hummed, giving him one last look before you fluttered your eyes closed.

“Okay… good, good.” He hushed, nodding more so to himself content that you seemed to relax a bit more.

He should’ve closed eyes and went off to sleep, but now it seemed like all he wanted to do was watch you. Make sure that you were comfortable enough in his arms and warm enough to brave the night until morning and then you’d never have to be this close to him again.

He never took his eyes off your face, taking all of you in at once — long lashes kissing the skin under your eyes, cheek cozily pressed into the fluff of the pillow, lips relaxing in a straight smile and under his touch your breathing was stable, synchronized with his. He couldn’t believe he was holding you right now, getting the chance to see you like this — it was his biggest privilege.

You could feel his eyes, he obviously sucked at taking his own advice and he was clearly proving your point that he was a hypocrite… but you already knew that.

You knew a lot of things about Steve, mostly all of the bad and annoying parts about him, but you also knew the good parts. The ones you blocked off and stored way back in your head because you never wanted to associate them with him.

The fact that he wasn’t all that bad under those preppy button ups and head of hair.

He loved your friends, just as much as you did, treated them with kindness and savored every moment he spent with them. He knew how to take care of six rascals all by himself while also being the one they ran to when it came to all their teenage problems. He never showed up empty handed to any hangouts, always doing his best to bring anything whether it was a plain bag of chips or the camping equipment he had hidden in his garage.

Steve knew how to push your buttons, and perhaps that was the very thing that frustrated you the most — the realization that he had an undeniable effect on you. And at the same time, it was the very thing you were terrified of knowing — that if things would have been different, maybe the irritation you both had felt for each other could have just been affection from the get go.

The thick and imposing walls of animosity you’d built up for each other, was just a defensive mechanism. A weak hollow barrier that tried to disguise what you really felt, something so strong that only now broke through the bounds and unleashed a flood of emotions.

What was one more line crossed, when you both already jumped bridges?

“Steve?” You called out to him, hoping he wasn’t pretending to be asleep.

“Yeah?” His reply came swiftly, and his eyes flickered to watch your lips form the next set of words.

“You still hate me right?” You suspected, running your tongue over the bottom of your lip as you waited.

He nodded his head obviously though you couldn’t see him.

“Y-yeah. Why?” He furrowed his brows puzzled by the sudden question.

“What do you hate about me?” You pressed on.

A deep breath fanned across your face, followed by the tsking of his tongue, “I don’t think we should—”

“Tell me, Steve… please?” Your hands pressed firmly against his back, a silent plea echoing through the touch, not because you wanted to hear the words coming from him, but because you needed them.

He swallowed thickly, watching as you waited with your brows raised up yet eyes still closed. He didn’t understand why you wanted this from him all of the sudden. Why now when all his mind could do was fill up with the parts of you that he wanted to forget? The parts of you he silently spent hyperfixating on because you thought more about the people around you rather than yourself and he wished he could be half the person you were.

He liked to joke that you were his competition, his rival of sorts, but in actuality, he could never measure up to your level of compassion and he was more than fine with that. Settling for watching on the sidelines with a convincing snarkiness on his face, while on the inside his bones weakened and his brain went haywire wondering how you could ever exist in the same lifetime as him.

There was nothing he truly hated about you, he didn’t think there ever could be.

Mindlessly his fingers moved along your back, rubbing small circles and sweeping across your soft skin before he cleared his throat from the roughness and finally spoke into the millimeters between you.

“I umm, I hate the way you never forget about something I did.” He started, mind wandering to the afternoon where you reminded him of such instances with Dustin.

“Hmmm.” You hummed, nodding your head along and relaxing your features now that he was working with you.

“I hate the way you always remind me to slow down when I’m driving around with the kids.” He admitted, guiltily confessing to his occasional speeding when they were running late and so was he.

You grunted, snickering weakly, “I need them all in one piece.”

He agreed, a faint smile tugging at his lips, acknowledging your concern.

His fingers stalled against your back, taking a sharp breath in, letting the words rest on the tip of his tongue whilst he gave himself a moment. A moment to take you in, to see you as such, to give himself a little longer with the mystery hanging in the air wondering if you could feel what he felt and understand what he was about to say.

“And I hate the way you look at everyone except me.” He said it so quietly that if you weren’t listening close enough you would have missed it.

But how could you ever let something like that float away so easily?

You flickered your eyes open, looking up at him past your lashes, staring into his orbs for all he was worth. Like he was the only thing to ever exist before your eyes and all you wanted to do was memorize him.

“Like what?” You whispered, never breaking eye contact.

“Like this…” He proclaimed, pulling his injured hand away from your back and bringing it forward to cradle your face ever so gently.

His thumb traced your cheek, your breath catching in your throat, letting him gaze at you in a way he never had before. It was concerning how quickly you established that from this moment on, Steve was the only person who would ever have the privilege of seeing like this. Stripped down in the confines of a stupid tent, that somehow felt like its own little oasis away from the rest of the scary world right outside.

It was just you and him and your own world.

“You look at everyone with these eyes, so eager and happy.” He said, trailing down to the corner of your lips, brushing his thumb across delicate skin.

“You smile at them like they’re everything to you.” he said, nearly letting his hand slip away as if he was unworthy of such a feeling.

But before he could, you brought your hands up, wrapping gently around his wrists to keep him there like your life depended on it. Wanting nothing more than to show him that he could — he was willing and able, and had all the permission from you to stay here, as long as you could get him to.

“I hate that you don’t look at me like that.” He swallowed, shaking his head more so himself, because all he ever wanted was this and for so long he pushed it away.

“I am right now.” You finally spoke, almost breathlessly, trying to reassure his anxieties about the past, the same ones you were feeling.

“Hate that it took this long.” He confessed with a weak laugh.

You smiled half apologetically. “Me too.”

It was all the confirmation you both needed.

No more lines.

No more bridges burnt.

Nothing keeping you both from the truth.

He had bit the bullet and you had jumped into the deep end and there was no going back from here. Time wasn’t stopping for either of you despite the intensity of the moment. There was clearly a beginning, you and him having a rough one, but that didn’t mean that your ending had to be so treacherous.

The gentle gesture of him pushing the strands of hair that fell over your face, sent shivers down your spine, a sort of electric touch that should have had you running away but all you felt was the need for more. He didn’t miss the way your eyes shot down to his lips, staring at them wondering his next moves before you met his again.

“I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay.” He whispered the words ever so quietly, leaving them to linger in the space as a delicate invitation hoping it was one you’d accept.

“More than okay.” You nodded, closing your eyes, feeling his face inch closer to yours.

The first touch of his lips upon yours felt like sparks flying, holy ground beneath you both as you took your time, exploring everything in between — what you imagined it would be like and the unexpected that had you both going down the twists and turns just trying to familiarize yourself with each other.

His lips moved against yours unhurried, gentle but deliberate, not daring to miss even an inch of you. You felt as if he was taking your breath away, leaving you to succumb to a sort of poise that usually never came this easily. With every press and swipe across your lips, you were jumping and falling into somewhere you never wanted to leave.

You nearly wanted to cry when he pulled away, leaving you only to catch your breath, his chest moving up and down deeply, while you were ready to go again and again and–

“W-was that okay?” He asked, fighting the urge to kiss you again and make you go dizzy.

You smiled like an idiot, lips blushing with a pink as bright as your cheeks.

“Perfect. Can we do it again.”

“Yeah.” He beamed, moving to hover up on his elbows with his face above yours, giving you the access to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you.

The second kiss was filled with hunger, the both of you trying to make up for the lost time you had spent at each other's throats when you could've been glued to each other's mouths. But you were positive you would both be able to make up for it eventually, and tonight felt like it was going to be the first of many.

His teeth barely grazed over your bottom lip, prompting a moan to rip through your throat before you pulled away breathlessly.

“I—I want you.” You spoke, voice full teetering between desperation and confidence.

Steve wasn’t expecting it at all despite the circumstances that just took place with the kiss. He’d be fine if all you wanted to do was spend the rest of the night making out like depraved teenagers or if you wanted to cuddle until you fell asleep.

He swallowed, looking into your eyes searching for any hesitancy on your features but you were positive that there wasn’t anything you wanted more than Steve.

“Are you sure?” He implored, desperately wanting to hear the words fall from your lips.

“With everything inside of me.” You nodded with a smile bringing your lips back to his once more, not being able to help yourself.

You could feel his grin against yours, a self indulgent one that still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was kissing you with every fiber of his being hoping that with each press and slide it would compensate for how much of an asshole he’d been to you.

He moved his lips, creating a trail of kisses over your jaw and down your neck, gently sucking the skin to pepper you in love bites.

“P-please, Steve,” You moaned, moving your head to give him more access to the sweet spot on your neck, “Need more.”

He licked over the hickey, pressing a quick kiss to the developing bruise before he unwrapped your arms from his neck, placing them on your sides. Nudging your shoulder a bit, you laid fully on your back while he moved onto his knees, staring at you with a look so promising and true.

“You don’t have to beg, at least not for tonight. I swear.”

His fingers smoothed over your sides feeling the warmth coming to you quicker now.

“I want you…so so bad.” You pouted, reaching for his hands to intertwine in yours.

“You have me.”

He brought yours up, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand before he let go and hovered above the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I?”

You nodded, lifting your hips slightly as he glided them off your legs, stripping away one layer of clothing yet revealing another — a black, lacy, number that definitely wasn’t planned for tonight, but he wasn’t complaining, in fact he found it a little humorous taking into the account the occasion.

“You packed a thong for camping?”

Steve snorted lightly, kissing the inside of your thigh as you blushed, tucking your cheek into your shoulder.

“I…I was rushing and packed it accidentally.” You told him, silently thanking the universe and your horrible planning that somehow got this perfectly.

“Lucky me.” He rasped, toying with the lace around your hip bone, peppering kisses across your thighs, not making any move to strip you free of them yet as he wanted to worship all of you first.

You sat up slightly, running your hand over his covered shoulder blade.

“C-could you take your shirt off?”

“Course I can.” He nodded quickly, sitting up just enough to work his arms through the shirt.

The garment was quickly pulled off his body, thrown off the side wherever he had flung your shorts.

“I can take mine off, too—” You started, moving up a bit more as you pulled at the bottom of your cami but before you could get any farther, he stopped you, squeezing your wrist gently.

“Only if you want to, s’okay if you don’t.” He assured you, wanting to know this was all about you being comfortable.

You smiled warmly and shook your head at his politeness, still trying to take all of him in, not just for the body before you, but for how attentive he had been towards you.

“No, I do… I just—just wanted to feel more of you, that’s why I asked.” You explained with a light laugh.

“You’re cute.” He chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs as you pulled the material over your head discarding it.

Absentmindedly your arms wrapped around yourself, bashfully trying to hide away as if that would make Steve forget that you were topless in front of him. Finally he got to see what the slivers of skin that was hidden away beneath clothing or in this case, made an appearance just hours ago.

“Don’t hide. You’re so beautiful.” Steve spoke softly, reassuring you of whatever nervousness you were feeling, slowly lowering your arms down letting him see you completely.

You could see and hear it in the way his breath hitched in his throat, eyes stuck on your chest before a smirk played on his features and he finally trailed them back up to your eyes.

“So you’re always excited to see me, then?” He teased, reaching up to run his hands along your ribcage, feeling your laughter rumble beneath his skin.

“Shut up.” You chided, pushing playfully at his shoulder.

“You got just the thing for me to do just that.” He tilted his head down and you nodded, giving him the green light to do what he pleased.

His lips wrapped around your sensitive skin, peak hardening in this mouth while the other was met with the flick and roll of his fingers. You were sure by the end of it, your chest would be littered with love bites of all shapes and sizes. Steve made the extra effort to glide across your chest, showing both breasts the attention they so rightfully deserved with his mark left behind.

“Mmm, S-steve.” You moaned, arching up into him and nails grazing at the nape of his neck.

“Gotta make up for lost time.” He mumbled against your, sucking another hickey but this time right above your sternum, completing the other half to make a lopsided heart that you’d see in the morning.

“I want more.” You begged, finally getting the courage to pull him away, eyes peering down at him.

He smacked his lips, nodding as he leaned up and pecked your lips, murmuring against them.

“I got you, princess.”

His kisses trailed down your body, taking his sweet time leaving your skin with a plethora of hickies, some small and subtle, and others that would settle darker by morning. Something about it, the possessiveness of it all added to the longing, knowing he was marking you as his — and he was the only person you wanted to belong to right now… forever even.

Placing a final kiss above the waistband of your intimates, he looked up at you, toying with the fabric.

“Let me get these off you, yeah?”

You hummed, letting your feet sit flat on the comforter, slightly lifting your hips up to help him. His fingers slipped under the lace, tugging them away from your core and off your legs, putting them off to the side.

“So fucking pretty.” He murmured, gently pulling your knees wider apart enough for him to slot himself between them and lay on his stomach.

His eyes were fixated on your core, taking you in with such hunger but at the same time awe, as if he was admiring the most beautiful work of art just before he would dig his claws into it. No ones had ever looked at you like that, taking their time and drinking you in, it almost made you want to shoo him away with all the attention he was giving you.

“Steveeee.” You whined, laughing behind your hands that covered your face.

“Why’re you hiding?” He puffed out a short laugh, splaying his hands over your stomach rubbing gently.

You pulled fingers apart, staring at him timidly. “I—I don’t know, I just never thought that we’d… you know.”

Stop pretending like we hated each other and confessed our feeling then deciding to fuck in a dingy tent in the middle of nowhere? Yeah he totally knew what you meant.

“I know what you mean,” He placed a reassuring kiss on the inside of your knee.

“We can stop whenever you want okay? No questions asked, you say the word and I’ll stop and we’ll put our clothes back on and—”

“I don’t want to stop. Promise, just a little nervous.” You assured him, sitting up slightly to bring your hand to his cheek, thumbing the freckles peppering his skin.

“Don’t be, I’m gonna make you feel so good. I promise.” He smiled, leaning into your touch and kissing the pulse point on your wrist.

Steve nodded, silently telling you to lie back and let him fulfill his promise which you were sure he was going to over deliver on. And god were you right.

His tongue swiped between your folds, shuddering beneath him you couldn’t help pinch your eyes closed trying to bottle up the feeling and keep it in your memory forever.

“F-fuck,” You moaned, relished in the feeling of each pass and kiss, “Feels so good, Steve.”

His thumb swiped over your clit, breath fanning over your skin as he watched your back arch with a smirk on his face.

“Told you so, princess.”

He dove back in, tongue flicking over your sensitive button while he worked two fingers into you slowly. The stretch of his thick digits and the mixture of his warm tongue sent your hands flying, in search of something to grab and immediately you went for Steve’s hand.

Somehow through the pleasure you didn’t feel the tape on his hand, that is until you squeezed and felt the layer blocking the contact of skin on his. The tape slightly crumpled in your hold causing your eyes to fly open, staring down at him.

“S-shit, I’m so sorry!” You whispered, quickly letting go of his hand nearly backing away from Steve thinking that you hurt him.

His fingers abruptly left your core, quickly slinging his arm over your hips stopping you from moving away from him. The bad hand immediately reached out for yours, intertwining your fingers together despite your uncertainty that didn’t want to immediately hook between his.

“S’okay, I’m okay, promise.” He assured you, kissing your mound before shooting you a wink as he squeezed yours.

“You can grab my hand, squeeze as tight as you want. The nurse who wrapped it up did a hell of a job, thing isn’t gonna hurt me.”

It made you giggle, kissing his knuckles, murmuring against them, “Hmm, still, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, lips brushing against your center as he got back to work.

“Shhh it’s okay.”

Steve was always more of a giver, something he usually bragged about and you thought was absolute bullshit, but now you understood seeing as though he was definitely giving you something to come back for, in more ways than one.

His tongue dipped lower, dragged up from your aching hole to your sensitive clit.

“You like that?” his voice vibrated across your sensitive skin, sending your body into squirms.

“Yes…p-please, right there,” You moaned, gripping his hand tightly as he repeated the action. “Just like that, baby.”

“Say it again.” He demanded though it more so came out as a desperate plea.

“Baby?”

He let out a groan, nipping at the inside of your thigh, “I love hearing it from you…c’mon, let me get you there, baby.”

It was the end of the beginning from then on out with one goal in his head. Feasting on you like you were his last meal trying to savor your sweetness and all at once engrain the image of your blissful face in his mind and those addicting moans that dared to get louder with every second that passed.

“I’m so close.” You whispered, trying to keep your voice down, “I—I, Steve, baby, please.”

Your thighs began shaking around his head, stomach heaving in deeper and twisting tightly, teeth digging into your lip trying to muffle the sounds of pleasure that wanted to escape, and your hand clutching onto his for dear life – the only thing grounding you while his mouth sent you into ecstasy.

“Cum for me.” He vibrated against you, lips wrapped around your bud as he sucked and watched you explode.

“Baby, f-fuck.” You gasped, looking down to meet his eyes before it was too much for you to handle.

Euphoria washed over you, similarly to the colors of the sunset. Bright oranges and pinks flashed across your vision, painting your skin with the feverish warmth before it fizzled out into darkness, specks of white making their appearance as your body buzzed.

Steve didn’t pull away until you stopped moving your hips into and away from him, trying to chase and escape the pleasure all at once until you came down. Even then he didn’t dare to leave you just yet, taking his time to wait until you came down from your high. He pressed gentle kisses over your inner thighs, making his way up to your midsection, resting his chin there, your chest moving beneath him as you caught your breath.

“Hey pretty.” He murmured, your eyes peeking open to see him — lips and chin coated with a sheen of you in the best way possible.

You swallowed, giving his hand three squeezes and you cleared your throat from the hoarseness, “H-hi Stevie.”

Stevie. It was a stupid nickname you used against him all the time because he hated it, but right now it seemed to have the same effect on him as you calling him baby just a little while ago.

Using his elbows as leverage, he scooted up to you chuckling as you pulled him down bringing his lips to yours as you tasted your essences on him. Your legs hiked up around his hips, bringing his clothed crotch down to your core, just a piece of fabric separating you both, but even then the tent in his pants wasn’t hard to pick up on.

“Lay down for me, please.” You mumbled against his lips, poorly attempting to roll him on his back despite his sheer strength.

He pulled away only slightly, furrowing his brows at you. “Baby, baby, we don’t have to if you—”

“I want to, so bad,” You pressed your hips up into him, inducing a moan to rip from his mouth, though still he didn’t roll over just yet.

You frowned, loosening your legs, hoping you didn’t cross the line, “Do you not want to?”

Quickly he shook his head, moving to hold your face in his hands. “I do, sweetheart, you don’t know how badly I want to have you. But I kinda feel horrible here,” He grimaced, face twisting with embarrassment.

“W-was hoping to have our first time together in a bed, preferably mine but yours could work too, but–”

“Wait!” You cut him off with surprise, lips curling up.

“You thought about this?” You suspected with a grin, teasing him with a poke on the cheek.

He tried to play it off with an unconvincing scoff that didn’t cover the croak in his voice, “M-maybe?”

You beamed, running your thumb along his bottom lip, batting your eyes up at him. “Well if you’re okay with it, we can totally use your bed the next time, and the next, and then the—”

“Of course.” He agreed quickly, making you laugh as you pushed his chest away

“Lay down for me, baby.”

He did as you said, taking your spot as you sat up on your knees pulling at the waistband of his sweats, working them off his ankles. His cock sprung up, the tip blushing with a bright read, aching and throbbing to be inside of you.

“Commando? And you want to call me naughty?” You teased, licking the palm of your hand and wrapping it around his length, pumping slowly.

He let out a shaky laugh, cursing at himself, “Kinda was regretting it earlier.”

“Why’s that?” You began shifting to lay flat on your stomach.

“Was worried you’d notice.” He mumbled.

His hands reach out to run up and down your back, soothing your skin desperately wanting to touch you despite the closeness already.

“Notice what?” You hummed gazing up at him.

“How hard I got when y-you wrapped me up.” He admitted, shuddering when you licked a stripe from the base to his glistening tip.

“Me serving you do it for you?” You half-joked, pepping kisses back down.

“Fuck no, that wasn’t it…” He shook his head, sitting up slightly to watch you.

“You just—f-fuck, you knew what you were doing and you took control and you…you fucking called me big boy and t-the way you bit the tape off.”

Clearly you wounded him up so much, something you never thought was capable, but alas the hate you both supposedly shared for each other had no bounds when it came to this sort of tension.

“Make a mess for me big boy, and I’ll clean it up, yeah?” You winked, finally giving him what he wanted, wrapping your mouth around him.

“S-shit, baby.” He hissed moving your hair towards one side to see you clearly.

“Making me feel so good, princess.” His hips resisted the want to thrust up into your mouth, controlling himself knowing that good things always took time and you were already making him feel great.

“So big.” You murmured, messily kissing the tip of his cock, giggling at the way his hips stuttered up knocking closer to your lips.

“Just right for you though right? Only yours baby.” He groaned, throwing his head back onto the pillows.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, wrapping your lips around the tip, sending vibrations up his sensitive length.

“Pretty too.” You whispered, pulling away teasingly.

He let out a hoarse laugh, shaking his head ridiculously. “Can’t be when I’ve got the prettiest sight right here.”

The compliment went straight to your core, the need to make him feel good was the motivation in your movements. Your wrist moved over the part that you couldn’t quite fit in your mouth.

“That's it baby, taking me so well,” He praised lowly trying to keep his voice quiet enough for just you to hear.

His fingers threaded through the roots of your hair, neither pulling or pushing, just holding you there and letting you go at your own pace.

“Shit, babe, y’gotta stop.” He hissed, tugging you off his length as you moaned, pouting up at him.

“Want to taste you…please Stevie?” You begged, mouth trailing down to his heavy sack, taking one of them in your mouth, before popping off only to mumble against them, “Let me taste you, please baby.”

How was he going to deny you, then?

“F-fucking shit, yeah, okay doll, I’ll give it to you.” He moaned, nodding more so at himself, trying to starve off the orgasm as long as he could knowing he was going to burst any second now.

You grinned, releasing his balls with a pop, quickly taking him into your mouth again.

“I’m c-cumming, fuck—”

He let the rest die in his throat, knowing that if he went any longer he’d wake up your friends and cause an even bigger mess that he nor you wanted to clean up right now.

“How was that?” You grinned, swiping your thumbs over the inner corners of your mouth, sucking off the remnants of him.

The act alone made his cock twitch, somehow springing back up ready for you.

“C’mere, you minx.” He whispered with a smirk, threading his hands towards the back of your head to gently tug you up to his face.

“Hmmm, Steve.” You giggled, letting it get cut short with his lips pressing deeply onto yours.

“You’re making it very hard for me to hate you.” He accused, pulling away from you with a playful smirk.

“You or your dick?” You wiggled your brows, eyes lowering between the both of you where his hardness rested against his thigh.

“I’m kidding… about the me hating you thing, not you making me hard.” He clarified, holding your chin between his forefingers.

It was clear that the both of you couldn’t really hate each other.

“You wanna be on top? I think it’ll be easier for you to control it at your pace.” He suggested, giving your hips a squeeze before letting his hands roam across your bottom.

“Okay.” You whispered, forehead resting against his as he snuck a hand between you both, pumping his length one, two, three times before slowly lowering yourself on him.

Taking in a deep breath, your eyes pinched closed, a gasp leaving your mouth feeling his breach your walls.

“S’okay, baby, take your time.” He murmured, kissing the tip of your noses while his hands rubbed comforting circles over your hip.

“Y-you’re so deep already.” You whined, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, overwhelmed by the stretch.

His bottom lip jutted out, pouting at you with his eyes so soft, though his mouth spoke a tune so condescending and downright filthy.

“Aww baby, I know, but you’re taking it so well right?” He went a step further, resting his palm over your cheek, prompting you to look him in the eyes as you nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to feel all of him.

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling it away from your cheek, “Touch me, please? I-I just need a little—”

He understood immediately, dropping the cocky facade for just a moment to make you feel the most comfortable knowing the first time was always the most intense.

“Shhh, I got you, I’m right here.” He swiped his tongue over two digits, working them between your bodies until he found your clit, rubbing gentle circles over the bud, just enough to help distract you from the initial stretch.

“O-oh, fuck, Steve.” You keened, focusing on the pleasure and stretch jumbled all in one.

“That’s a good girl.” He praised lowly.

You tightened around his girth, eyes shutting blissfully at the overwhelming feeling and the praise that spilled past his lips. He noticed it right away, chuckling more so at himself because all of the times he had called you pet names for fun, perhaps you liked it more than you let on.

“You like being called a good girl?” He challenged, his free hand tightening around your hips to stop you from rocking against him.

You whined through a nod, opening your eyes and pleading for him to let you keep up the movements.

“Words.” He urged, still not giving into you until he heard what he needed to hear.

You swallowed thickly, lips parting as you whispered softly. “Y–yeah, like when you call me that.”

He smirked, leaning up just enough to peck your lips, mumbling against them as his arm loosened from your hips and he settled comfortably on his back. Slowly but surely your hips proceeded where they left off, moving experimentally taking the time to adjust to his sheer size.

“Atta girl, gotta tell me what you like so I can make you feel good baby.”

“L-like it when you talk to me.”

“You do?’

You hummed quickly, nodding your head, “So much.”

Growing needier you lifted your hips up slightly before fucking yourself back down onto him. Your lips parted with a pleasurable moan while he growled, throwing his head back against the pillows.

“Oh, there you go sweet girl. Fuck, already taking me so good.” He said, digging his fingertips into your hip bone.

“F-full, m’so full of you.” You sighed, slowly repeating your movements trying to make it last as long as you could.

“But you love it right?” He murmured, words soothing and arousing at the same time.

You nodded admittingly, “Please don’t stop…S-steve please,”

The shake of your thighs and the uneven grinding told him all he needed to know, and he was more than happy to let you sit back and give you your second fix of the night.

He pressed himself off his back, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you close. Your limbs enveloping his neck while you rested your forehead against his, breathy moans leaving your lips as the new position pushed him deeper within you if that was even possible.

Steve’s lips brushed yours, an oath tumbling past them, “I won’t baby, promise. Just wanna make you feel good okay? Be a good girl.”

It was all you needed to hear before the waves of pleasure came crashing down with no breaks. You were practically putty in his hands, your hips moving against him the way he wanted you to. He set the pace and found the rhythm that had you nearly slumping against him.

“So fucking tight, your pussy’s squeezing me baby,” He muttered, lifting your hips higher as his own thrusted deeper from below.

“Making me feel so good, princess. Does it feel good for you too? Just what you need right?”

If you weren’t so blissed out with pleasure, perhaps you would have the ability to actually give him the words he wanted to hear, but you felt an entire universe away, so caught up in Steve and everything he was making you feel. His words were only taking you higher, adding to pleasure and bringing you closer to the end.

You managed to take a sharp breath in, jaw shaking as your teary eyes blinked at him, “J-just need you now…only want you.”

He moaned darkly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tried to starve off his own orgasm that was teetering the edge. The only thing keeping him from letting go was making sure that you got there first, just so he could watch you unravel and hear the sweet sounds that could never be erased from his memory.

“C’mere, sweetheart,”

His thrusts slowed just enough for one of his hands to snake up towards the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss before guiding your head into the juncture of his neck.

“It’ll go deeper this way,” He murmured, placing a quick peck to your cheek before continuing the onslaught of ecstasy.

“Oh God…Steve….” You whimpered, nails digging into his skin.

“You’re mine now.” He said through gritted teeth, fingertips practically bruising your back, “no one’s gonna get you like this except me, got that?”

All you could do was nod against him, humming out an agreement as you tried to keep your voice down, finally aware that your friends would be able to hear you both if you didn’t try to get a semblance of control.

“Fuck, shit babe, so perfect, just taking all of me inside you huh? You’re the only one who ever made me feel this— shit, so good.”

He was just making it harder for you to keep quiet at that point.

“O–only want you…I–I only want you like this.” You murmured, pulling your face away from his neck just enough for his eyes to catch yours.

Steve couldn’t help himself, thrusting up into you with a slow yet deep vigor, bringing his lips to yours and stealing your breath away. He never quite imagined that this was the way you both would be confessing your feelings and begging to finally be each others’ but he wasn’t complaining — he just wanted to seal the deal and show you how real it was to him.

“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and do it for me…just me.” He mumbled against you, feeling the tightening around his shaft, the convulsing of your walls signaling your release.

“F-fuck! Oh my god, Steve.”

Your body shook, eyes shutting tightly as your hips rutted against his stilled ones letting you ride out your orgasm as he held your tight and shushed your moans soothingly.

You slowly opened your eyes, staring at him dazingly, “Wanna feel you cum, give it to me, please.”

He nodded, letting your face untuck itself from his neck and instead grabbing his cheeks to keep his eyes on yours. Eyes silently begging for his release while your lips parted with shallow moans still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm followed by a small ripple of pleasure that came again.

His thrusts became frantic, nose flaring with a deep breath taken, pushing his hips as far as they could go forcing you to collapse against him as he filled you.

“That’s it, baby…hmm, so deep.” You smiled lazily into his chest, nails raking down gently across his shoulders and down his arms as he came down.

His heartbeat rang through your ears along with the uneven breathing the both of you were sharing, letting the

“Well,” He huffed, staring down at you, smoothing your tousled hair down, “That’s one way to warm up.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, smacking his cheek with a soft pat, “Hypothermia wasn’t gonna kill me. You almost did.”

“Did I really fuck you that good?” He smirked smugly.

“Don’t make me start hating you, again.” You threatened with a yawn, eyes fluttering shut and relaxing into him.

“Kidding babe,” He said, kissing the top of your head before patting the small of your back, “Let me get some clothes on you.”

He pulled out of you, quietly apologizing for the emptiness before cleaning you and himself up. His t-shirt covered your body and he managed to slip your underwear back over your legs. Steve settled for his sweatpants, no shirt, just letting the blanket and your body heat keep him warm throughout the night.

“We’ll talk about this more…in the morning? O–or when we get back home?” You proposed sleepily, snuggling deeper into his body, weakly throwing one of your legs over his hips.

His big hands came down under the blanket, caressing your skin with soft passes as he hummed pulling you closer, “Yeah baby, we’ll talk about it, then.”

There you and Steve Harrington were, spending your first night together but not as mortal enemies — you guys had practically fucked the hatred out of each other, but really... it never existed in the first place.

BONUS SCENE:

You did a one over at the trunk of the van, mentally ticking off every item and looking back at the campsite to make sure you all didn’t leave anything behind. Steve was busy checking the tires making sure they all had enough air for the drive back that way there would be no issues. You shut the trunk closed, making your way over to the passenger door that was kicked open with Eddie smoking a cigarette.

“You’re in my seat.” You cross your arms over your chest, foot tapping against the asphalt as Eddie stared at you confused.

“You’re mistaken…this is my seat.” He retorted with a chuckle, gesturing to himself before blowing out a puff of smoke into the air.

“Not anymore.”

“It’s literally my van.”

You rolled your eyes, lamely gesturing back to the site where the tents were once set up, “And you literally kicked me out of my tent to almost freeze to death, therefore you owe me. Now get out of my seat.”

“I’m not moving.” He said, standing his ground.

“Move.” You commanded, reaching to tug him by the arm though he didn’t budge.

“Nope.”

“Fine,” You huffed, dropping his arm before calling out, “Steve!”

He came around the front of the van, dusting his hands off and jutting his chin towards the both of you.

“What’s going on?”

You pouted deeply, eyes sulking towards your friend who tsked and rolled his eyes at your feigned innocence. “Eddie won’t let me sit in the passenger seat.”

“My van, my rules.” Eddie smirked, tapping the hood of the car.

Steve stared at you both, shaking his head in amusement before turning to his friend, “Dude, c’mon, just let her sit up front this once.”

Eddie’s face twisted in betrayal, obviously Steve was already wrapped around your pinky and he just couldn’t believe he was this easy. “You’re shitting me right? I thought I was your right hand man Harrington?”

You snorted, eyes glancing up at Steve with a blush coating your cheeks, “Oh trust me he doesn’t need a right hand anything when he has me—”

Eddie faked a gag, finally relenting and stepping out of the seat. He stubbed out his cigarette on the gravel and waved his hands in surrender.

“Take it for all I care! Just keep your goddamn hands to yourself, and I mean it Steve, both hands on the wheel!” He shouted, whipping the back door open and cramming himself between the rest of your friends who laughed at him for thinking that Steve was going to save his ass.

“You must be proud of yourself, huh?” Steve chuckled, giving you a hand as you stepped up the siding and slid into the seat comfortably.

“Very.” You responded, bending out an inch to peck his lips not caring that your friends saw the act.

Steve smiled against your lips, hands coming to rest over your waist, practically lurching himself across your body as you whispered quietly for only him to hear.

“Now come on… you promised we would use your bed the next right, remember.”

His eyes widened, cheeks turning red as he swallowed and finally pulled himself away from you, “Oh I remember.” He smiled, tapping your knee before he shut your door, “Buckle up, princess.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: so this is my very first enemies to lover fics...(at least i think it is????), this was actutally supposed to be very short and brief, almost a one shot/blurb kinda thing but it turned into a feature length fic...is anyone surprised hahaha. anyways, i hope you guys like this!!! i don't usually write smut because I feel like i suck at writing it and describing it but i hope i was able to do this fic justice -- let me know what you guys think and thank you so much for sticking around <;3

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

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kesujo · 5 months ago

Text

Obsessed

“Yo, you never told me you got a girl!”

“What are you—give that back! Who said you could look at my messages?”

“No no no, first explain this: ‘did you eat yet?’, ‘are you coming home late today?’, ‘who was that girl you were eating with?’—” You snatch the phone out of your friend’s hands, but he still recites the last message to you, “‘I’m sorry I couldn’t see you today. I miss you~’—”

Your heart skips a beat. “That’s—my aunt.”

“Yeah right—”

“She’s just been concerned for me after hearing that I moved out of my parents’ house recently.”

“…Is your relative a stalker?”

It’s a bad excuse and you know it, but that’s all you are willing to give your friend. After all, there is no way he will be more willing to accept the truth. Hell, you aren’t even sure you are more willing to accept the truth to even the flimsy, half-assed explanation you just provided him.

“You got a real cougar of an aunt.”

“No, she’s—” trying to conceal the actual message sender as your aunt is probably a futile effort, especially with that last message, but telling Beomgyu the truth is absolutely out of the question. “—she’s just worried for me.”

Your friend rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Not my problem if you’re not ready to reveal your relationship to even your best friend yet.”

“You know what, you’re free to believe whatever you wanna believe. I don’t care enough to try to change your mind.” That’s only partially true. What matters isn’t that Beomgyu thinks you have a girlfriend, but if he knows the identity of the girl in question. It’s a good thing you had the foresight to save her number with an innocuous name.

“You aren’t seriously going to tell me that you’re close enough to your aunt that you just call her ‘Ji’, do you?” Ok, maybe the name isn’t that innocuous.

“I was in a rush, ok? Plus, it doesn’t even matter what I save the names as, all that matters is I know who the number is.”

“Wait, what do you have me saved as?”

“‘Beom’.”

“Hmm…”

Beomgyu only pesters you half of the remaining meal, thankfully not catching the occasional glancing around of the restaurant you did. Maybe it’s paranoid of you, especially since it’s a normal weekday evening in a relatively crowded place, but you want to be on your toes at all times.

“Hey, you’re coming golfing with us next week, right?”

“We’ll see.”

“Date with your girl?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not a date with ‘my girl’. I’ll just have to see if I wanna go on the day.”

“Right.” The two of you stop at the intersection. “Well, have fun on your date.”

“It’s not a—” seeing the smirk on Beomgyu’s face makes you sigh. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll have fun on my ‘date’.”

Not a few steps after you separate from him, an all-too-familiar voice whispers into your ear, “You’re going on a date?”

You try not to jump out of your skin as she wraps her arm around yours while seamlessly falling in perfect step with you. The playful manner in which she leans against you is sharply juxtaposed by the sharp, very pointedly upset tone she asked the question with.

You knew you weren’t paranoid to suspect she was nearby. But … where was she? You swear you did a pretty thorough visual sweep of the restaurant without landing on anyone who even remotely resembled her. Unless … did she wait outside the restaurant?

“No, I’m not—”

“Hey, kiss me first, or else people will get suspicious.”

“No, they won’t—” don’t get flustered, don’t get flustered, “—what are you talking about?”

You turn an exasperated expression towards Yu Jimin, who is shooting you a playful grin. However, as exasperated as you sound, your heart is beating a million times a minute. This isn’t even your first, or even tenth, encounter with her, but every single one is still as nerve-wracking as the last. “You never know.”

“I think I do, from the fact that you still somehow haven’t been exposed as an avid stalker of mine.”

“Never mind that,” In an instant, her expression changes, the playful grin disappearing from her face, “what about this date Beomgyu was talking about?” The duality of the two expressions makes your heart beat even faster, although this time for a slightly different reason.

“There’s no—” Have you ever introduced Beomgyu to Karina? Hell, have you ever even mentioned Beomgyu to her? “—date…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Then…” Suddenly, her voice turns bashful. She slows down a bit, forcing you to do the same. “…do you want one?”

This is way too ridiculous. Truth is stranger than fiction, so they said. You don’t know who this ‘they’ character is, but you can’t agree more with that seemingly absurd statement.

“Aren’t you busy?”

“I can make myself free.”

“Don’t go pushing back another photoshoot or choreography practice for this.”

“…But it was definitely worth it…”

You scoff. “How?”

“Well, I got this picture of you!”

You look over and down at her phone to see what seemed like a perfectly normal picture of you standing between a few bookshelves at your local library looking down at the book in your hands. “That’s … it?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?!” You jump at the sudden peaking of her voice, hurriedly looking around to make sure she hadn’t drawn any more attention than she needed to before turning back to her. “Look at how hot you look when you’re serious!”

You have absolutely no idea what Karina sees in you. As far as you’re concerned, you’re a perfectly normal guy. You aren’t even particularly good-looking, having only ever been in one relationship that lasted only the last year of high school. You’ve asked her before, and she said something about you ‘being her white knight in shining armor’ and how you had saved her in a ‘manga-like way’, but honestly, you have no recollection of such an event.

“Right…”

“I used this picture for at least two weeks straight.”

“You ‘used’…?” It doesn’t mean what you think it means. To save your own heart, you have to believe that. Otherwise… “By the way, you aren’t going to be following me all the way home, are you?” You pose the question already expecting an answer, so when she decides instead to remain quiet, you turn to her and follow up with, “…Are you?”

“…Can’t I?”

“What?” Breathe. Don’t panic. Be logical. And stop thinking about that. This is a bad thing. “No!” You make sure to manage the volume of your voice before continuing. “Of course not! Call your manager or something,” you hiss at her.

“Why nooot?”

Her pouting almost makes you cave, admit defeat, and agree to lead her back to your apartment. But… “You remember what happened last time, don’t you?”

“Well, nothing happened, right?”

You let out an exasperated sigh. You hastily shove aside the memory of what exactly happened last time. “Yeah, and we should be thankful that nothing happened.” When she doesn’t respond for another bit, you turn to her to see her cheeks slightly flushed. “Um…?”

“You said ‘we’.”

God, Karina is just so damn adorable.

“Jimin, I’m being serious here.” It turns out, that was the wrong play—whatever you said makes her flush even harder. “Now what?”

“You said my name~”

The exhale you let out contains a mixture of exasperation, sheer bewilderment, and most of all, a mask to hide how flustered you are. Her fangirling squeals are just too adorable to not smile at, so the best you can do to mask that is to turn your head away from her and shake your head.

“Look, I don’t want to be the one to call your manager again. So either you make the call, or I do.”

“Wait, no, just for a little bit!”

“That’s what you said last time, wasn’t it?”

“It’ll—”

“It’s not worth risking it. You have your entire idol career ahead of you, and I’m just some random nobody.”

“You aren’t a nobody!”

You nearly flinch at how loudly she asserts that. “Ka—shh, not so loud!” You have to whisper to her after Karina’s latest outburst draws the attention of some passersby.

“I won’t let you say you’re a nobody, ok?”

At that, a smile breaks out on your face. “Ah, right, ok, fine. Still, no matter who I am, it’s not worth it.”

“But—” she leans in close, an action that causes your already sky-high heartrate to shoot straight through the roof, “—that’s not what you said while you were destroying my pussy last time.”

Shit.

You had been hard at work trying to hold that memory at bay ever since Karina brought up the idea of returning to your apartment with you. The incident had shaken you up even more than that one time you nearly got run over by a car on your way back home from a college party; as if the idea that one of your favorite idols obsesses this hard over you isn’t fantastical enough, the idea that you had sex with her is on a whole other level of absurdity and fantasy that you frankly didn’t think collided with the real world.

“What are you saying out loud in public?” you reprimand her in a hushed voice.

“Don’t you want—”

Not knowing another way to silence the salacious celebrity, you tug at her arm to bring her closer to you so that you covering her mouth with your hand isn’t as obvious. “Please, please, not in public. People are already starting to look at us.” The subtle, tart, slightly fruity perfume you love wafts into your nose, the warmth of her body pressing up against you, a certain softness pressing against your chest, everything combined nearly drives you insane and even makes you a bit light-headed—but however flustered pulling the top-tier beauty close to you makes you, Karina herself is even more flustered. The tips of her ears are bright pink, as if she had dyed them a different color for some type of cosplay, her full, red lips spread out in a wide smile directed at her own feet, cheeks bulging out like a cute little squirrel trying to store a few too many acorns in her cheeks.

She’s too adorable. And beautiful. Holy shit is she gorgeous.

That’s the last indulgent thought of her you allow yourself to have before taking out your phone again. “I’m gonna call your manager now, ok?”

“Wait, noo~”

You pull away from her upon noticing how many more glances you two are starting to get, resuming your walk, this time to your apartment. At this rate, it seems like it’s only a matter of time before Karina is noticed, and if it’s a question between getting caught in public attached to the arm of some random guy and dealing with her in your apartment for the few minutes it took her manager to pick her up, the answer is obvious. All you have to do is to be more resilient than last time.

Part of you wonders if this is all your fault. Maybe your wishy-washy reactions to her behavior is what enables her continued stalking of you. Maybe, if you hadn’t been so receptive to all her advances, she would’ve eventually stopped this unhealthy, this dangerous habit.

“Are we going to your apartment now?”

“How—” you stop yourself short of asking the question. Previously, you were just randomly walking about with the express intent of not bringing her back to your place. How Karina instantly picked up on that fact right as you changed your mind is a question you probably don’t even want an answer to.

“Wait, I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“…What?”

You watch her suddenly stop and pull out her phone to fix her bangs in utter bewilderment before promptly pulling her hastily along, whispering to her, “You can do that at my place. Do you want to be spotted?”

“But my bangs are so messy right now, I can’t go to your home looking like this…”

“But—” you stop for a brief second to look at her bangs. What about them looks messy? You shake the thought from your mind. “—what? But you were the one who suggested it in the first place.”

“I know, but…”

“Never mind, we should hurry.”

You’re avidly keeping your gaze forward, trying your best to shake off the feeling that the two of you are attracting the eyes of every single stranger you walk past. ‘Is that Karina?’, ‘What is she doing with him?’, ‘Is she secretly dating?’ – you don’t think you hear any particular voice whispering these words, but it manifests in your mind so strongly that it takes every ounce of your willpower to not turn your head and direct an accusatory gaze at every person you walk past. You’re too scared to pay closer attention to your surroundings anyway: what if you are actually right and people are identifying Karina? You figure hoping and praying that your paranoia remains just that is your best bet; after all, what else can you do? The rest of the walk home feels like the longest ten minutes of your life: with each minute that passes, you feel more and more antsy, and every pair of friends that walks past you two, your grip on Karina’s hand tightens, ready to bolt if they turn around to address her. It isn’t until you close the door to your apartment that you let out a breath of relief.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m in your apartment again!”

“Um, by the way…” Karina stops turning around whimsically like she’s a Disney Princess to look at you, causing a heap of self-consciousness for the question you want to ask to suddenly pile on. Is she going to get offended? To be fair, you had looked everywhere—the complex’s lost-and-found, under your bedframe, behind all the washing and drying machines, and still couldn’t find them.

“Hm?”

“Um—” Is this even important? Why are you asking this again? But as the seconds tick by, the pressure from her expectant gaze builds inside your head, like the staticky white noise from an old TV filling your mind. So, you steel your nerves and continue anyway, “—did you, by chance, steal some of my socks? The last time you were here?”

“Hmm?”

While her response is perfectly neutral, it still gives you cold feet. It is a good thing if this resulted in Karina being offended—you know that rationally, but emotionally, you don’t know if you can take knowing that one of your favorite idols hates you.

“My socks.” On the flip side, they aren’t even that important. Will she even find offense from your implication? This had been a mystery that bit at you for the past few weeks, and this is a chance to rid yourself of that nuisance. “Did you steal them last time you were here?”

“Socks? Hm…”

However, the more she ponders, the surer you become of your theory. “Uh…” at that revelation, you realize you don’t know what to feel. “Well, I mean, it doesn’t really matter, I guess…”

“Oh, really?!”

The amount of happiness and relief in Karina’s voice all but vaporizes any doubt in your mind that the culprit behind the mismatching socks in your drawer is, indeed, her. “They’re just socks, I can always get new ones, but, um, yeah.” Are you supposed to be honored that Karina even had the desire to steal your socks? Or is the appropriate reaction feeling creeped out that she stole them? Is there even an ‘appropriate reaction’ to your situation?

“In that case…” Karina sits down on the hardwood floor of the half-living room and as she reaches for her feet, your eyes land on the definitive proof that she was, indeed, the sock thief.

“Hey!”

“I was in such a rush the last time I didn’t check to see if they were matching, but now I wear them every time I come see you,” she explained, pulling them off her feet and showing them to you. “Can I trade one of them for the matching pair?”

“Why—you—how—” your brain is short-circuiting in its struggle to come up with a reasonable response, “—is it really—I mean—what—why?” You feel like a complete and utter idiot, but the visual proof of this ridiculous conspiracy theory you had concocted that had no right to hold a single drop of water throws you for a loop.

“They make me feel so much closer to you, and they’re also a souvenir from the first time I came here.”

Being reminded of that causes your face to explode like a steaming kettle, which incidentally also reminds you to message her manager. “Fine, you can go to my bedr—wait, no, actually, I’ll get the matching pair.” Halfway to your bedroom, you stop. What are you doing? Why are you interacting so much with your stalker? And why are you giving her your sock? “Actually, wait.” Turning around proves to be a mistake, as you are met with a giddy, excited Karina who is in the process of standing back up, and with her form-hugging outfit no longer hidden by her body-length trench coat, your brain malfunctions for a second.

“Hm?”

Shit. Don’t get distracted. This is why she’s still like this.

“Um, sorry, nothing—no, I mean, can you just give me back my socks?”

Karina frowns, taking a step back. “No!”

“Wha—” How are you even supposed to respond in this kind of a situation? Rationally, the answer is to report her to the police. But this is Karina of æspa. If news got out that she’s stalking someone, her reputation would go down the gutter and her career as an idol would suffer, and that is not something you want. “Um, please?”

“Then trade me something of equal value.”

“What? No, they’re my socks.”

“But I need them!”

It’s so difficult to argue with Karina, especially when her pouting lips, her drawn together eyebrows, her puppy dog eyes, everything about her is this adorable. “You need them…? For what?”

“They comfort me whenever I don’t get to see you for a long time.”

Honestly, you still don’t even know if you are dreaming. In a way, the only plausible explanation for how bizarre this conversation is that this is all a dream. “So, what do you want in exchange?”

“Maybe…”

Wait. Why are you offering to trade? Those socks are yours. You need to be harder on her, and not in that way. “Wait, no. Can I just have them back, please?”

“Another picture?”

“Really? Well—wait, no.” Damn it, why is it so easy to give in to her requests? “Don’t you have a lot of pictures of me already?”

“But I don’t have one of us together!”

You sigh, mostly to hide your embarrassment at the idea of taking a picture with Karina. It’s weird: one might think the relatively frequent close contact and interactions with the famous popstar trivializes the prospect of taking pictures with her, holding her hand, or even being near her, but it somehow doesn’t. “I need to text your manager first, give me a second.”

“Noo, doon’t~” You dodge her attempt to swipe your phone from you.

You’ve had meetings with your boss’s boss before, but this text message feels somehow even more anxiety-inducing. Karina is a top idol in the entertainment industry, and you are pretty much just an entry-level employee at some consulting agency: the worlds you live in can’t be more different. This isn’t about yourself or your anxiety, though: it’s about Karina and what’s best for her. It takes you barely a minute to send the text, by which time Karina has already given up trying to stop you.

“Well, now what?”

“We wait—” you divert your eyes as soon as they land on her shapely figure, outlined very nicely by the tight clothes she had chosen to wear that day, “—for your manager.”

“Well, what should we do while we wait?” The low, husky, seductive tone of voice sends a shudder up your spine.

“Nothing.”

That single word is all that you trust yourself to say before you escape to your bedroom, hoping she didn’t see the erection you tried hiding from her, and close the door before she has the chance to follow. “Just keep the socks, and please don’t steal anything else. I have, um, something to do.”

“Come on, we have a few minutes at least, right?”

You sink against the door, sitting on the other side of the closed wooden frame. You close your eyes and hold your head in your hands. Just plant your bum on the floor and your back against this door. That’s all you have to do.

“I bet I could get you to cum down my throat before I have to leave.”

The next moment, you find yourself back on your feet with your hands tightening around the doorknob. It’s that very moment that you freeze for a brief second. Whatever mystical force saves you from ripping the door from its hinges, whether it’s your inner conscious or God Himself, you thank it.

“Karina, please, just … wait there, ok?”

When there’s no response from the celebrity, you breathe a sigh of relief, going to your bed and plopping yourself down on it. A few seconds later, your phone buzzes—and you, without thinking, whip it out to open the message.

It’s a picture of Karina, devoid of all clothing, on your couch, the camera looking down at her with a packaged condom hanging out between her upward curling lips. Twin pairs of hardened nubs stood proudly away from her delectably bountiful bosom, her other hand buried between her milky white thighs.

“Fuck—” You recoil, nearly dropping the phone. The thing is, it isn’t even the first nude you had received from her, or even the fifth, but every time you had to fight the demons in your brain telling you to save it. And seeing that silver square dangling between those beautiful, soft, full, red lips refreshes the memory of the previous encounter: how amazing her lips felt, how unreal it felt to see Karina rolling the condom onto your cock … even the very fact she had one, hinting at either her intentions for today or that she’s always prepared tested the limits of your patience and self-control. What makes that worse is the teasing, playful message she sends with the erotic selfie: ‘Now do you wanna come out?~’

You shake your head, gritting your teeth and stalling for way too long before pushing your finger against the ‘delete’ button.

Yu Jimin, Karina, the leader of æspa, the object of lust and desire for men all over Korea—all over the world too, probably—who can’t even walk to the grocery store without dozens of articles and thousands of fans singing praises about how unrealistically gorgeous she is and how amazing her body’s proportions are, is in your apartment, sitting on your couch, fully naked. Touching herself.

What kind of insane are you to deny the open invitation to fuck her into next Tuesday?

‘Please stop doing that. It’s dangerous.’

After another solid minute of trying (and failing) to calm yourself down, you send the message. Even though the picture already vanished from your phone, the image is still so fresh in your mind you seriously consider jerking out a quick one.

‘If you want me to stop, then why don’t you come out here and make me?’

It goes without saying, but tugging your meat while you have a guest is terrible manners. Even if said smoking hot guest, who happens to be a stalker of yours, sends a second nude picture, this time with her legs spread further apart and the packaged condom resting on her thigh, a seductively winking at the camera while puckering those luscious, cherry lips of hers for the camera. Faintly, you swear you see a slight discoloring at the very intersection of her legs her hands are placed inside.

All you have to do is plant your face against your mattress and do nothing. Her manager is on her way. And when she arrives, the temptress will be taken away, and this increasingly daunting task, of giving in to sin, will similarly be whisked away.

But even with your eyes closed, the image of her beautifully soft curves you swear you can feel in the palms of your hands is burned in the backsides of your eyelids. Tempting as she is, sinful as she is, you stay glued to the bed. Remember what happened last time. A repeat of that is something I needed to avoid at all costs.

When your phone next buzzes, you ignore it. Even so, you can feel the tantalizing, magnetic pull of that phone, drawing your fingers to the phone’s screen to unlock it, like a siren singing out to a stuffy ship full of men who’ve had to sleep shoulder-to-shoulder with their compatriots.

“Are you really not coming out?”

Even her voice, alluring and captivating as it is, nearly peels you off your mattress like a true siren and to your bedroom door. But all you have to do is remember the repercussions from last time, the hell you went through, how much stress and anxiety you had during those few weeks, something you never brought up to Karina nor plan on ever doing. She stalks you like it’s her second job, but she is still your idol—you want her to be happy, and telling her the turmoil you underwent in part due to her definitely works against that goal.

In fact … would it make her so unhappy that she stopped stalking you?

“But last—” as you begin speaking, your throat closes, as if someone had magically taken away your ability to speak. As much as you can claim to not know why that is, saying so is to lie. Why you again and again fail to take decisive action to push Karina away, why your actions clash so much with your logical and rational thinking, is all very simple.

Logically, perhaps even morally, you know getting Karina to stop obsessing over you is the right thing to do, and all actions towards that goal ought to be taken. But … do you want that? Now that you know how it feels to have the attention of the idol you spent so much of your money and time on, going back to your boring old life is completely out of the question. You know that this isn’t good for Karina, especially because she’s an idol, but in the depths of your heart, you love how much she obsesses over you: as initially jarring it was to learn about the hundreds of photos she had of you, as startling it was to have her throw herself on you randomly as you walked down the street, all the attention she gives you and specifically you is… frankly, addictive. Sometimes, you wonder if Karina is more addicted to you than you to her.

“Hm?”

In the end, you plant yourself back onto your bed, saying, “Nothing.” You will do everything in your power to maintain the status quo. Attempting to deviate too far from it proved to be disastrous, so all you have to do is keep things the way it is. Stalker or not, keeping a healthy amount of distance is probably for the best, as idol and fan. That’s why you’ve never really asked her if she has romantic feelings for you. Ever since you found out that Karina has been stalking you, it’s been like this: Karina jumping over and over into the fires of controversy, and you barely being able to catch her and pull her away each time. You had already failed once, and you don’t intend to fail again—after all, if anything happens, it means that your time with Karina will come to an end.

Your time with Karina, or as a normal person might call it, ‘Karina stalking you’.

You always had the impression that most stalkers were mentally unwell. What, then, of a person who loves being stalked?

“Are you really going to pass up on—” A knock at the door interrupts her, and seeing that your most recent text is from Karina’s manager, you breathe a sigh of relief.

“That’s your manager. Better get going.”

A whine, and then, “Fine. But, if you ever—”

“Have a good day, Karina.”

Part of the reason you cut her off is to save yourself, as you don’t know if you can hear her utter another erotic word and maintain your self-control. The other is to, metaphorically, push her out the door. It’s only after a few seconds that you realize how curt you sounded, but there’s nothing that can be done at that point: maybe Karina taking it personally will be what’s best for her.

But the guilt makes you open the door regardless. “Hey, um—” By the time your eyes land back on Karina, she’s already putting on her coat. Her manager is also inside, standing at the doorway.

“Hi again, I’m so sorry for this, I’ll make sure to properly reprimand her.”

“Oh, it’s ok. As long as Karina’s safe, that’s all that matters.”

Her manager flashes a look of appreciation and empathy, turning back to her managee to say, “How many times have I told you to leave this poor man alone? Do you want to be all over the news tomorrow?”

“But you know how good I am at avoiding the press.”

“You can’t—” her manager sighs, turning to face you after opening the door one last time and saying, “—thank you so much for messaging me, I promise I’ll try to keep Karina on a tighter leash and cause you less trouble.”

You can’t very well say ‘it’s ok’ again, can you? It isn’t normal to simply be ok with this type of behavior, and you don’t want to give any hints to anyone at the deepest depths of your psyche, that you actually love that Karina is this obsessed with you. “Thank you,” is all you could muster. The last glance you share with Karina is all you need to know that you emerging from your bedroom was unnecessary after all; you were ready to give the excuse that you opened the door to let her manager in and apologize for being so cold in the meantime, but seeing her eyes beaming a smile at you reassures you that saying so isn’t needed.

You try to forget about it the rest of the day; when it comes time to sleep, however, no matter how hard you close your eyes and attempt to clear your mind, you can’t drift off. You had actually made it a point to try to avoid the couch, but your curiosity ultimately got the best of you: still, no matter how hard you looked, you still couldn’t find that one discolored patch you could’ve sworn you saw in the second picture. Not that you’re too upset about it or anything.

You probably need to wash those cushions soon.

You turn over, letting out another sigh.

God damn it, might as well.

After a quick few minutes, exhaustion takes ahold of you and darkness overtakes your conscious. When you next awaken, it’s still dark. You aren’t one to wake up much in the middle of the night, but even taking that fact into consideration isn’t the most startling thing. That belongs to the reason you had awoken: namely, the figure at the foot of your bed.

You dart a half-upright position. “What the fu —”

“It’s me.”

The shock is enough to blow away your sluggishness, but the voice clears your head of all the just-woke-up confusion and any semblance of drowsiness. “Ka … rina?”

As your eyes adjust to the dim light of your darkened bedroom, they land on the beaming smile she offers you. “Yeah!”

“What the hell—” you understand you should be more shaken, perhaps even terrified to some extent, but neither emotion wells up inside you. You know the ‘normal’ reaction is to be terrified of the person who broke into your house in the middle of the night, but some combination of being used to Karina being places she really shouldn’t be and having fantasized about this exact scenario before drifting off instead causes a burgeoning elation and excitement to bubble to the surface. “—what are you doing here?”

“Well, we have more time now, right?”

You sit up fully on your bed. “No. No, no no no.” Those emotions aren’t something you can let Karina know about, though. Maintaining the status quo and all. Who knows how she might react if she finds out your true feelings about her obsession with you? “What time is it right now?”

“Um, about 3am?”

“3—Go home! Get some sleep! What about your schedule for tomorrow?”

“No, tomorrow—today, actually, I have nothing.”

“Wha—” you stammer for a few seconds, your brain overloading with all the millions of questions and thoughts you have but unable to pick one. It eventually lands on the most obvious one. “—how did you even get in?”

“Your spare key.”

“My spare—” the spare key you left in your kitchen drawer, you imagine is what she’s talking about. She must’ve found it while you had locked yourself in your bedroom.

In the nude? Was she walking around your apartment completely naked?

You shake your head, clearing the thought from your mind. “—um, can you give that back?”

“Aww, whyy~?”

Karina claims to be bad at doing aegyo, but why is she so damn adorable when she whines and pouts like that?

“Please?”

“Then, I’ll trade you.”

The first time you tried to resist her trade offer that day—the previous day, technically—it failed spectacularly. It’s ridiculous to have to trade to acquire something that was stolen from you, but you understand she isn’t going to give it back so easily. “Fine. For what?”

“The spare key…” a mischievous glint in her eyes is noticeable even in the dark. The pit of your stomach drops upon seeing it. “…for—”

“No.” You cut her off before she can finish. Seeing that expression in her eyes is evidence enough of what her next word will be. And hearing that word coming from her mouth is the last thing you need at the moment: your heart is beating ten million miles a minute, your attempt to mask it with a cold, emotionless response being your only barrier between the status quo and Karina’s desires.

“How amazing your cock felt stirring up my insides was something I couldn’t forget.” Unfortunately, that barrier is a flimsy piece of paper and Karina is a barreling, runaway train. “How about you? Do you remember how my pussy felt?”

“No, please, Karina—”

She throws aside your blanket and seats herself on the edge of your bed, tenderly placing a hand on your leg. “Are you sure?”

Your breath hitches at that slight bit of contact. It’s ridiculous; after all the close-quarters contact you’ve had with her, after having had sex with her, you still act like a pure maiden at even the slightest bit of physical contact. “Karina, I’m serious. You need to go home, before I have to contact your manager—”

“With what phone?” Your eyes bulge out upon seeing the phone Karina is waving at you—your phone.

“Give that back—” you swipe at her hand but miss, the phone being pulled out of your grasp just in time. “—Karina…”

“How about this: I find out if you actually remember last time, and if I find out that you’re telling the truth, then I’ll give you back your phone.”

“No! It’s my phone—” the tips of your ears burst in a cloud of steam when you feel Karina’s hand slide up your leg, getting closer to the erection that you hope the dark veil of the night is adequately hiding. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continue, “—can I please have it back?”

“Then you shouldn’t be afraid to let me check, should you?”

That is something you need to avoid at all costs. “Damn it, Jimin.” You lurch forward, grabbing one arm while the other reaches past her and snatches the phone from her hand. “You can’t just—” Why was that so easy? Was she not resisting—

Turning to make eye contact with her, her face mere centimeters from your own, turns out to be the worst possible thing you could’ve done in that situation.

In an instant, Karina is laying down on the bed you were sleeping on just moments ago, her hips straddled by your legs.

“J-Jong—!”

“You goddamn slut.” The words come out of your mouth before you can even fully process what you had just done to her. It feels like you are being possessed by some kind of carnal beast, but you don’t even know if you hate it. After all, being the passenger to this beast lets you see the mixture of red-eared embarrassment and lip-quivering, eye-twinkling lust of the one who had awakened it. On the stage, Karina dominated the cameras and the audience with her powerful stage presence, but in bed, you dominate her with a mere touch. The normally charismatic popstar is reduced to nothing but a whimpering, wanton woman by your fingers. “Breaking into my apartment in the dead of a night for a booty call?”

Seeing the arousal deepen in Karina’s eyes and seeing her legs squeeze together in your peripheral vision invigorates the beast. “I-I’m sorry…”

Your first time in this very bed flashes in your mind: how she obeyed your every whim, the submissive way she responded after you had thrown away all semblance of consideration for her when your lust reached a breaking point, how she shifted from demanding to demure the instant you used any kind of force on her—“I gotta wake up in a few hours for work, how are you gonna make that up to me?”—the feeling you got after fucking her for the first time, how learning that Karina was a power bottom made you even more addicted to Karina than you had already been, it all came to a head at that very moment.

“I’ll—I’ll relieve all your stress.”

With how forceful Karina is normally, you sometimes wonder if your interpretation of the singer at the time was correct. Maybe you were taken by the moment, or maybe she was just putting up an act?

“Channel the frustration you feel that your boss only ever assigns you too many or not enough tasks, the annoyance you feel that your favorite ramen place is closed due to construction, the disappointment and concern that your stocks haven’t been doing well recently…”

But seeing her laying below you, chest heaving and eyes sparkling with excitement, you know that you were right on the mark.

“Vent out all your pent-up emotions into me.”

You don’t seem to care how she knows about your grievances with your work, your favorite ramen place being closed, or your stock portfolio; all you seem to care about is the beautiful platter Karina is serving herself to you with.

“This is what you wanted all along, wasn’t it?” Now that you are sufficiently close, you can see that her outfit is decidedly different than what she had been wearing before; while the previous outfit showed off her curves beautifully as it was, the top she is wearing now shows so much cleavage, it leaves practically nothing to the imagination. It might’ve been a trick of the light, but you swear you can see little bumps where her nipples should be through the clothing. “You came here with half your tits exposed like this?”

“No, I took off my coat.”

Your eyes briefly glance to the side, quickly finding a rather thick leather coat laying on the floor next to the bed.

“That’s it?” Karina nods. “And you didn’t even, for a second, think about what would happen to you if some drunk guy saw you with such a slutty outfit on?”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“What if someone saw this sorry excuse for clothes you have—” your fingers curl around the deep neckline of the top and pull it down, causing her bountiful bosom to pop out. You’ve seen them plenty of times already, in person once and in pictures numerous times, but every time you are completely enthralled by them. Watching the perfectly round, plush mounds bounce around a few times in a triumphant cry out for their freedom, zeroing in on the palm-sized light pink areola surrounding her even pinker nipples, swollen and erect and begging to be squeezed— “and decided they wanted to have their way with you?”

Karina doesn’t respond with an apology, but with a moan, in response to your hands taking the hefty mounds of fat and rolling its marshmallowy texture in your knuckles. You had never been with a woman so well-endowed and had no idea they could be this fun to knead and roll until the last time you had this pleasure.

“You’re an idol, have some degree of self-preservation, wouldn’t you?”

The seriousness of the concern dissipates with every squeeze and every roll of her nipples between your fingers. “J-Jong…”

“Is that even a concern? Maybe you’d like that, being bent over some random alleyway, taking some stranger’s cock inside your pussy?”

Just the thought of that makes you tense up, causing Karina to yelp at the sudden pinch you give to her nipples. “N-No! I only want yours!”

You can feel your manhood straining against your boxers, a well of lust and desire stirring up inside you. As repulsive as the thought of Karina being raped is, some sick part of you decides it’s also hot, adding self-directed rage to the hodgepodge of confusing emotions inside you. “Do you even know how fucking irresistible you are?”

Karina shakes her head, perhaps sensing the bits of frustration and worry in your voice. “N—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about that…”

“Then what were you thinking?”

Although her eyes were downcast with guilt, her cheeks were still flushed, breath hitching at every kneading and massaging motion of your hands on her tits. “I—I was just, I was just really horny and wanted to feel you between my legs and messing my insides up so much that I couldn’t think about anything else.”

You of course know the prevalence of stalker fans—sasaeng fans—in KPop. The infamous case of Nayeon’s stalker, who had a delusion that she reciprocated the twisted kind of love he harbored for her, among various other cases, driven by the marketing strategy of the entertainment labels preying on the loneliness of a population of young adults starved for human connection, is all too familiar with you. There seems to be a new story in the news about an idol being harassed by sasaeng fans every week, but it was just that: news. It has as much connection to you as everything else that appears in the news, all the reported murders and celebrity drama and the like. A stalker is as mystical of a person as a serial killer: you know they exist, but you feel like you don’t truly understand the depths of their depravity.

So this is the result of fucking your stalker, huh?

That thought breaks you out of your lustful stupor, a moment of clarity dissipating all the sexual desire building up inside you.

Karina became so horny that she pretty much risked her life, walking out in public in the middle of the night with such a skimpy outfit hidden beneath a single coat, to do this.

“Hm? … What’s wrong?”

Her obsession with me completely disabled her reason and logical thinking. Her, a woman, an idol, did something so brazen and irresponsible and dangerous…

“J-Jong—…what’s wrong?”

…and it’s all my fault. If I didn’t respond so favorably to all her advances, she wouldn’t be doing such stupid, dangerous things.

“Jong—”

“Karina.”

“Hm?!” You pushing yourself off Karina causes her to jump a little, herself following suit and sitting up so that she could better look you in the eye.

“Why did you do something so dangerous?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I’m serious.” You almost can’t bring yourself to maintain eye contact, but you force yourself to. “You know how dangerous it is for a woman, much less an idol, to be walking around in the middle of the night, right?”

Karina, undergoing serious whiplash from the prurient way you were speaking to the dangerously calm and serious tone you’re using, stammers helplessly. Eventually, she lands on, “…I wasn’t thinking about that. I’m sorry.”

“You need to. Your safety is always the most important thing.”

“I know—”

“As your fan, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I read in the news that you were assaulted while walking around in the middle of the night. And it would be even worse if I realized it was because you were walking to my apartment.” That last bit is an indulgent, selfish thing to say, you realize that, but you can’t help it. Perhaps if you make it about yourself, Karina will absorb what you’re trying to say better.

“…I’m sorry…”

Hearing her soft, defeated response and seeing the clear guilt in her eyes shatters your heart a little. “Damn it,” you mutter to yourself, sighing and turning your eyes back onto her, “Karina, I…” You wonder if this is what being Karina’s manager feels like. At times, it feels like you care more about her reputation as an idol than she does herself, and that’s very worrying. It’s this one thing lingering in the back of your mind that prevents you from fully enjoying the ridiculous situation the two of you are in. As many benefits there are to being Karina’s obsession, as much as you love the attention Karina gives you, in your heart of hearts, you know this can only end one of two ways: either Karina gets discovered as a stalker of one of her fans and suffers serious and irreparable damage to her reputation, or you push her away and she ends up hating you. The third option is that she gets tired of stalking you, which, with respect to everything that’s happened, seems the least likely scenario to occur. And, when you think about that, you sometimes end up wishing that this whole situation never happened: because you don’t have the strength of mind to do what it takes to get Karina to stop, but in doing so, are enabling her to continue ruining her life.

“…I don’t think—”

“If I promise to start prioritizing my safety, can you reward me?”

“Uh—” to be honest, something like this doesn’t fall within your expectations. “Um…” but, if you are to enable Karina in any way, then shouldn’t you use this power for her own good, whenever possible? “…Yeah.”

Karina beams at you. “Ok! Then, for every week I stay out of trouble with the media, I get one reward from you.”

You don’t know where this is going, but if Karina pulling her top back up and over her bosom is any indication, it doesn’t mean what you think it might mean. “…‘Reward’…?”

Instead of answering right away, Karina swings her leg to the other side of your body, and before you know it, Karina is straddling your lap. “You.”

So, it was what I was thinking.

You feel your heart revving back up. “But—” she pauses. “—then, every week?”

This causes her to stop and think. “Then, every month?”

Frankly, you don’t really feel like you’re in a situation to say ‘no’. If you do, worse things might happen. “Fine.”

She beams at you. “Great! Now, I’ll be claiming my reward now~”

Wait. What did I just agree to?

“Wai—” a moan interrupts you as Karina’s hand reaches down to cup your growing erection.

Your breath hitches. “You’re hard,” she notes, teasingly, to you.

“Karina…”

“Call me ‘Jimin’.”

“…What?”

“Come on~”

Karina barely has to convince you before you buckle. “Fine, Jimin.” Her jubilant squeal puts a smile on your face.

“Jonghyun!”

The exuberant way she responds with your name, the smile on her lips and in her eyes, how can you not let out a chuckle? “Hm?”

“Jonghyun! Jonghyun, Jonghyun, Jonghyun!”

For a moment, you forget the precarious situation you are in. For a moment, it feels like Karina is your girlfriend, and you two have just taken a step towards deepening your relationship.

“What is it, Jimin?”

When you say her name, her smile grows wider and the slight hue of pink on her cheeks suddenly become noticeable.

“Are you ready, Jonghyun?”

Feeling her palming the tension in your crotch brings you back to reality, in which your favorite idol is straddling your lap, leaning over enough to give you an eyeful of her plunging cleavage while her hands rubs your arousal.

“God…”

Hearing you moan, Jimin’s smile sparkles with a mischievous glint. “Does that feel good, Jonghyun?”

“You know what would make it feel better?”

Without missing a beat, her fingers curl around the hem of your boxers and pulls them down. Out springs your confined penis, which the topless beauty takes a second to marvel at before gingerly wrapping her fingers around the veiny, pulsating shaft.

“It’s so warm…”

You let out a hiss, ecstasy shooting up your spine at the sensation of her soft fingers gently squeezing your cock.

“Fuck, Jimin…”

She slowly begins pumping your member, but more so out of amazement than from a desire to make you feel pleasure. Her eyes are zeroed in on the dick that both of her hands are moving up and down on, her breath deepening as precum begins to leak out of your tip and onto the sides of her index finger.

“Wow, you smell so good…”

You remember her saying that quite often last time and honestly didn’t know what to make of it. You don’t use cologne or ball toner or anything; sure, you make sure to wash and keep your loins relatively clean, but it’s been a while since you shaved down there. What could she possibly like about your scent?

“It’s so hot…”

“Fuck you’re hot.”

Jimin, in a trance-like state, watches her hands pump your cock with such laser-focus that she doesn’t respond to your reply, nor does she react to your feet making contact with her sides. As your erection grows in Jimin’s firm grip, her breathing also deepens, her chest heaving with every increasingly heavy breath she takes. Her tongue occasionally darting out to wet her luscious, red lips, her barely blinking eyes unmoving from your crotch, her hands carefully rubbing your entire length with every pump, the rise and fall of her tits hovering above your legs, the sight of her practically worshipping your cock makes you forget every inhibition you had about this.

“Hmmm…” Your breathing deepens and your arousal grows, but it’s all cut short when she abruptly stops. Before you can question her, she lets out a, “fuck,” under her breath.

You had barely ever heard Jimin swear. Whether it’s because she wants to uphold an image around you, or because of her Catholic upbringing, or for some other reason, even the first time you two fucked, she didn’t swear at all. So, this time, when you hear her swear, you do a double-take, wondering if you’re hearing that correctly.

“Jimin?”

“I can’t take it anymore.”

She suddenly rises up from her crouching position into a kneeling position and pulls her shorts off. The moonlight streaming in the window of your bedroom frames her body perfectly, highlighting the same curves you fantasized about a few hours ago, and crucially, revealing the reason for her sudden explosion of frustration: even in the dim moonlight, you can see that her panties are soaked.

“I need you so bad, Jonghyun.”

In the next second, you’re hovering over her, her legs threaded between your kneeling ones. The intensity of your stare makes Jimin squirm, but you can’t help it: she looks so damn sexy.

“Please, Jonghyun.”

Hearing the plea snaps you out of the daze Jimin’s aroused expression entrapped you in. “So needy.” Your hands go to the intersection of her legs, your index finger tracing the outline of her skimpy underwear. “And so wet.”

It was only a single digit, but it’s enough to make the idol shudder. You can see her body tensing the closer your finger gets to her sex, and feeling that power makes you grin.

“Ooh, oh my…”

Jimin lets out a whine as you lift your drenched index finger off her. As you lift it closer to your face, you see her eyes trained on that finger, so instead, you lean over and offer it to her. Without hesitation, she parts her lips, and you direct that finger into her waiting mouth.

“Fuck…” The feeling of her plump lips wrapping around the base of your finger and her tongue wrapping around its length adds to the sexiness of the sight. “…that’s so fucking hot.” The brief reprieve from earlier had reigned in the beast that had awoken inside you, but now, you can feel a tension building deep within your chest, like a depleting patience meter that would break free the carnal beast’s shackles.

You pull your finger out of her mouth, planting it on her clavicle and running it down her sternum. A silver trail of saliva follows your finger up and around her breasts, an action that causes Jimin to shudder and whine a little bit more, before they find their way back to the panties absolutely drenched in her juices.

“Jonghyun, oh my God…”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Using your Lord’s name in vain?”

Jimin’s eyes go wide, vehemently shaking her head. “No! I’m sorry, I didn’t—” her breath hitches, letting out a yelp as you suddenly press your index and middle finger against the clothed slit. Her entire body jumps, as if an electric current ran through her body.

“Naughty, naughty girl.”

As your two fingers rub against her moist heat, Jimin’s reactions become more erratic, her cries more desperate. “Please, oh my God, Jonghyun!”

“Oh my God, what?”

The more pressure you apply to the damp piece of cloth, the louder Jimin’s moans get. “I-I need you—” she lets out a shrill yelp when your thumb accidentally brushes up against the swollen, sensitive nub sitting atop her labia. “—need you, you, inside!”

You can tell Jimin is slowly losing her mind with your teasing, and honestly, so are you. With every sensual sound the singer emits, with every jerk of her body, you can feel your breath grow heavier and something twisting inside your chest. As much discomfort that twisting gives you, you can’t help but revel in seeing Jimin getting more and more impatient, watching her writhe and wiggle at your every touch. This sense of control and power is something that you thrive on.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Ah, aah!” Jimin’s body tenses up again as your thumb ‘accidentally’ flicks her clothed clit. “Jonghyun, please!”

You’re getting impatient too. Your cock is straining against your waist, so much that it almost hurts, but you continue rubbing her clothed sex with your two digits. The more you hold yourself back, the better the reward is.

“Please what?”

But there’s something else in that.

“Please, please, your—your cock—ah!” Your thumb very purposefully presses her pleasure button, causing a jolt to be sent into Jimin’s body. The grin on your face widens. “—your cock, I need it, need it, inside me!”

The longer you keep her on the edge like this, the more you tease her, the more she’ll want you. The more she’ll savor the feeling of your dick filling her wanting, needing pussy up, and the more obsessed she’ll become with you.

When she begins bucking her hips to meet your fingers, you pull back. “Mm mm~” you say in a teasing, singsong voice. “Naughty girl.” In Jimin’s eyes are desire and lust, even more than before. Your fingers pressing against her undergarments draw out more impatient whines, but this time, her body obediently doesn’t jerk into them. “Tell me how badly you want it.”

“I—I’m, I’m burning up, my whole body is so hot…” she lets out a gasp as your fingers hook around the thin material of her panties, which transforms into something between a sigh and a moan as you push the sopping wet piece of lingerie down her slim, silky-smooth legs. You take a moment to savor that feeling: her leg muscles are toned, but her skin is soft and smooth. Just feeling it against your fingers is paradise, but for Jimin, it only drives her further off the edge. “It—It hurts, Jonghyun, it hurts…”

You snap out of it, stopping immediately to look up at her. “What? Sorry, what hurts?”

Unexpectedly, Jimin’s face turns an even brighter red at the question. “…it.” Her gaze falling on her legs make you, at first, panic even more, thinking she was somehow indicating her discomfort with you taking her panties off. “My … it.” When she repeats those words, you come to realize what she means.

But, just to make sure…

“Your what? What hurts?”

“D-Don’t tease me!”

You hide the grin threatening to spill onto your lips. “If you don’t tell me what hurts, I won’t be able to help you, Jimin.”

“Jonghyun…” You continue pushing the undergarments off her legs, and by the time they make it past her feet, she kicks it off. “…ah, ah, oh my—”

Her voice becomes breathy as you push her legs apart, her voice raising an octave when your fingers rub against her pink folds, sticky from the excess of her honey. You can hear how crazy the direct contact makes Jimin, and it sends you into a frenzy. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” More than being impatient, it isn’t simply a desire anymore: it was a need.

“Jonghyun~” Her back arches when you stick your two longest digits straight into her inferno, eliciting a high-pitched squeal. “Oh!”

“You like that?”

Jimin nods her head fervently, as if possessed by some lascivious ghost. “More!” You can start seeing the sweat gleaming off her brows. “Pl-Please!”

“You love feeling me inside you?”

The fiercer your fingers, the louder Jimin moans, and the more her back arches off the bed, and the harder your dick becomes.

“Yes! Oh my God, yes!”

You can feel how tight her pussy is, even around your two digits, but are still caught off guard when she succumbs to an orgasm after you slam your thumb against her clit.

“Jongh—” the first spurt of liquid sprays onto your wrist, and before you even have the chance to react, the next lands on your face, drawing a diagonal line from your left eye, across your nose, and to your right cheek. “—oh, oh my, oh, fuck!”

The singer continues to spray her nectar all over your arm, torso, face, and neck, convulsing against the bed, her body wracked with an overwhelming ecstasy that causes the bed to creak at the uncontrolled vibration of her body.

“Holy…”

Seeing Jimin’s reaction, you stop for a moment. You aren’t this good … so what caused this? Is this just from all the foreplay you were doing? Or maybe she’s just this horny?

“Ah, ah…” Jimin’s climax begins to subside, her back meeting the bed once again, but far from a look of content washing over her face, her eyes lock onto the rock-hard cock attached at your hips with an insatiable hunger. “Jonghyun…”

You can see the lust lingering in her eyes, even as she basked in the afterglow of her orgasm, and that’s enough to bring you back into it. “Naughty girl. Who said you could cum before me?”

Her breath hitches again as you start aligning your cock to her core, poking at her inner thigh. “I-I’m sorry, oh my…”

“You were so horny, you came from just my fingers.”

“Jonghyun…” The tip of your penis makes contact with the sopping wet sex of the idol singer, causing her to let out another gasp in response. “…oh, oh God…”

“Are you sure you can handle this, then?”

Jimin only answers with encouraging moans, her gaze locked fiercely onto your dick as it nears her entrance. You can feel the tension building inside her, the anticipation in her clenched fists and her curled toes, her lips parted and letting out little puffs of sighs and gasps. When you look up to meet her gaze, it becomes evident she simply didn’t hear you, so laser-focused on your cock that every other sense is rendered inert.

“Can you, Jimin?”

Hearing her name snapped her out of her trance. “Hm? Sorry, what?”

In that brief moment when her concentration shifts is when you strike. Barely able to hold onto your own senses at that point, you let go of every semblance of self-control, mercilessly driving your cock as deep as you can inside her.

The resulting screaming moan erupting from Jimin’s throat is so loud, you’re momentarily snapped out of your lustful stupor in concern for your neighbors. After settling the matter quickly by reconciling the impossibility of identifying Karina of æspa with just a muffled moan, you turn your attention back to the wet, sticky, hot grip Jimin’s pussy is exerting onto your dick.

“Jong—jong—jo-nng, hnng…” her words melt into meaningless sounds and lewd noises the deeper you push yourself into her. You, yourself, feel like you’re melting into her; not even a few seconds in and it already feels like your shaft is being lathered on all sides by some warm, viscous fluid, in thanks both to her prior orgasm and how tightly her drenched walls are hugging your cock. Whereas normally, the slimy feeling on your privates might’ve been repulsive, knowing it’s a product of Jimin’s lust for you turns that into arousal.

“Shit…”

The sight before you is frankly, utterly unbelievable. It’s already unbelievable enough that this isn’t the first time you’ve seen her naked, and it’s even more unbelievable that this isn’t the first time you’re fucking her, but seeing her splayed before you, her eyes shut but her eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted with her tongue threatening to haplessly loll out, the hypnotic swaying motion of her breasts heaving in accordance with her breath, her arm muscles tensed and her fingers curled into tight fists, her beautifully smooth and pale skin illuminated perfectly by the moonlight streaming from the window of your bedroom, her cute belly button and a little further south, in which your cock was firmly wedged between her slim, silky legs, makes you even harder, painfully so. You can feel a familiar sensation welling up deep inside your loins.

“God, fuck, Jimin…”

The pistoning motion of your cock prevents Jimin from forming full words, reduced to letting out half-words and squealing moans. You can feel bits of her juices landing on your groin with every thrust, the squelching noise of your connection and the warm air quickly filling with the musk of sex stimulating your senses even more. You don’t think it is possible to get even more horny after finally fulfilling Jimin’s desire of being filled up with you, but, in hindsight, there simply wasn’t a way for that not to happen.

“Jo-Jong—Jonghyun!”

The first time Jimin manages to get out a full word is what snaps you out of the trance you were in, mesmerized by the back-and-forth swaying of her tits while pushing yourself inside her again and again.

“Is this what you wanted?”

The enthusiasm of Jimin’s nodding might’ve seemed hyperbolic if you didn’t feel her legs wrapping around your waist, squeezing you closer to her in perfect synchronicity with your thrusts.

“It—yes!”

You can feel the poor bed frame shaking and faintly, you can hear it squeaking under your vigorous motions, but you pay it no heed. Your mind is overloading with ecstasy, barely able to focus on anything but the sensual, screaming seductress underneath you. You can feel your body moving, and hers in sync with you, your cock unrelenting on its assault on Jimin’s pussy.

Why did you deny yourself this for so long?

“How horny must you have since entering my room to become such a shameless slut, huh?”

Jimin shakes her head. “N-No, sin-since—” her words transform into a moan, her back arching off the bed again. The motion inadvertently, or perhaps very intentionally, pushes out her delectable rack, and like opposite poles of a magnet, your hands are drawn to her round, perky tits. “—since—ahn!” An adorable squeal erupts from her lips when your hands reestablish contact with her breasts. You are listening to Jimin, you swear, and had a hunch that this would disrupt her from giving you an answer to your inquiry, but you can’t help grabbing them as much as a droplet of water can’t help falling down a waterfall. Even watching the squishy, plush skin giving way to your kneading and squeezing motions is addicting in and of itself, but feeling its softness … it’s a wonder how you were able to restrain yourself hours before. But now that you’re this far, you can feel that burgeoning feeling in your nethers expanding, as if about to burst. Gritting your teeth and increasing the strength of your squeezing is all you can do to hold it back; while you want to continue indulging in the heavenly feeling of Jimin’s hot, tight walls rubbing against your dick, this very action is what’s causing the impending climax to loom over you. It’s a serious dilemma: the more you indulge more in Jimin’s pussy, the sooner it’ll come to an end. So, what should you do?

The solution you find is within your grasp: instead of focusing on that, focusing on Jimin’s rack, you find, extends the time you have left. “So heavy. It’s only fitting such a blatant harlot like you has such massive tits, isn’t it?” Your fingers softly squeeze her nipples, and a louder squeal splits the warm, musky air. You can see her body tense up in reaction to it, and also feel it: her pussy squeezes your cock shortly after, causing a groan to tumble out your lips. That tension threatens to unravel, but you push it down at the last second. Now that you are actually fucking her, enjoying this for as long as possible is the primary thing on your mind.

“—I was horny ever since entering this apartment earlier today.”

Jimin pushed the words out of her mouth in rapid-fire, but clearly enough for you to understand.

Oh.

…

Oh.

No wonder she came here in the dead of night with such a form-fitting outfit. No wonder she came so quickly to just your fingers. No wonder her face is so flushed, and why she looks like she’s in heat, why her facial expression and her body language—why everything about her screams ‘I need to be bred by you. Now.’

For a moment, you wonder how you’d feel if you were blue-balled for hours and hours on end. How excruciating that would be. How desperate you’d be to find reprieve. Maybe she had even masturbated, maybe even a few times, before coming here. And, while you were able to relieve yourself, Jimin seemingly wasn’t. Assuming she did try, it clearly didn’t work. And, so, at the end of her rope, she jumped out of bed, dressed herself like this, and walked over to your apartment.

“Fuck.”

With that knowledge, everything seems to change. Amidst the pleasure and ecstasy Jimin is drowning in, you can see the relief hidden in her face. Mixed in with her pants and moans and squeals and ecstatic screams are traces of a long-awaited contentment. And to know that it is you who caused it, to know that it is you that the Jimin laying before you obsessed so hard over, and now it is your cock granting relieve to the pussy aching to be fucked but getting no reprieve for hours and hours on end, pushes you damn near the edge.

“Fuck.”

Jimin can feel the increased vigor of your motions, too, and responds in kind. Her hands are now gripping your bedsheets, her heels digging into the soft mattress she was laying on, doing anything and everything to keep her body from flying off. The wooden frame of your bed shakes with the cadence of your synchronized movements, its headboard lightly banging against the wall it’s propped against.

“I’m close, Jimin.”

She, on the other hand, isn’t able to share a similar warning. “Jong-Jonghyun, ah, I’m sorry—!” The first torrent, again, catches you off guard, spraying all over your groin and abdominal area, as well as her own legs and stomach. “—oh—” Her body vibrates even more violently than before, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, completely and utterly succumbing to the ecstasy wracking her body. “—it’s so—” Her vigorous reaction to her climax stimulates you even further, the jerking motion causing the tension you were so desperately trying to hold back to explode. “—nng, oh my—” But looking at her tensed facial features, listening to her alluring voice shaking in unintentional vibrato, feeling her convulsing walls squeezing your cock in a rolling motion, as if attempting to coerce your seed out, it’s only a matter of time. “—fuck!”

Hearing that, the rare swear out of the mouth of the Catholic girl, does it. You yell at her one final time, a barely coherent string of nearly meaningless words, before you bury yourself as far as you can reach inside her and unleash everything.

“A-Ah!” Your hot, sticky seed shoots straight into her womb, each rope of semen splattering against her insides causing her to flinch a little. “Oh, ah, so hot!” It’s only then that you finally remember: you don’t have a condom on.

“Wait, fuck—” But it’s too late. Jimin’s legs are wrapped tightly around your back, trampling any ideas of pulling out.

“So hot, oh, oh God—”

“N-No, no, Kari—Jimin!” You try anyway, reaching back in a vain attempt to peel her legs off you. Whether the reason for it is that you don’t have the strength or you don’t put enough into it is barely a question: your hips keep bucking into her viscously, every audible, wet clapping sound of your balls against her ass moistened with her own ejaculate sending shockwaves of pleasure into you. “Damn it—” your words are drowned out by Jimin’s orgasmic moans, her climax extended by the abrupt intrusion of your seed her pussy was so desperately trying to milk out.

You don’t even realize the fact that you’re using Jimin’s boobs as a handle while you ride out your orgasm with her until it subsides and the tension in your hands relax.

“Jonghyun…”

You take a few moments to catch your breath, all your strength suddenly having left your body. You can barely keep yourself upright, and almost slipping from pushing against the smooth, buttery texture of her boobs is what makes you realize what you’ve done. You lift your eyes, and, surely enough, her otherwise pink areola is a noticeable shade darker.

“Damn it, fuck…”

Your refractory period is hitting you, hard, so when Jimin smiles and pulls you onto her chest, you don’t retaliate. With your cock still wedged deep inside her, it isn’t even given a chance to soften—still, not even the pillowy feeling of her bosom against your cheeks is enough to grant you the strength to immediately go again.

“I can feel it inside me, Jonghyun~” At first, you figure she’s referring to your cock. “It feels so warm, and so full…” Then, you realize she’s talking about something else.

You dart up, trying to push yourself off her but being stopped by her legs. “Shit—”

“Hm?” Your sudden actions startle Jimin, whose facial expression transforms from contentment to concern. “What?”

“No, shit—”

“Jonghyun? What’s wrong?”

Even the worried look on Karina’s face is beautiful, and heartwarming to an extent, but the fact that she’s more concerned about your sudden outburst than the fact that you just came in her extinguishes those feelings.

“Karina, you—”

“Jimin.”

“—shouldn’t—” the way she can pout so adorably, even fully in the nude, with your cock stoppering her pussy, stuns you for a second. “—you shouldn’t have let me cum inside.”

“Why not?”

You can only guffaw at that. “What? Because you can get pregnant!”

“I’m on the pill! It’s ok!”

Hearing that relieves you, but only slightly. “But—I mean, what if I have an STD?”

“Well, you didn’t give me one the last time. Unless—” her eyes darken, and a shudder runs up your spine, “—you’ve had sex with another girl in the meanwhile?”

“No! I—” you force yourself to pause. Any fear the look on Karina’s face inspires in you isn’t the main issue. “—the point is, you should’ve stopped me first. It’s always better to be safe than—” you’re interrupted by your own grunt in response to Karina’s legs squeezing you, causing your cock to twitch inside her. “—fuck—first of all, let me go.”

At this, she frowns. “No!”

“Karin—”

“Jimin!”

You sigh. “Fine. Jimin, please, let me go.”

“But you’re still so hard! And I’m not satisfied yet!”

You can feel your exhaustion from the refractory period starting to wear off, and you know if you’re still connected to her by the time that expires, that can only spell out more disaster. Glancing at the redness on her breasts, you grimace again. “Jimin, I’m tired. I have to get up early tomorrow for work. Please?”

Thankfully, she relents. You breathe a sigh of relief, extracting yourself from her. As you’re putting your boxers back on, you hear Karina let out a grimace of her own, and in your peripheral vision, you can see why: trickles of your creampie are leaking out her hole.

You avert your eyes before the sight fully stiffens you up again. “You can go clean up in the bathroom.”

“I don’t want to.”

You blink. “What?”

“I don’t want to,” she repeats.

“But—” you stammer for a few seconds, realizing for the umpteenth time that you have no idea how this KPop superstar’s brain works, “—how are you going to get home?”

“But you said it yourself, right? I can’t go home in the middle of the night like this.” You open your mouth to answer, but she intercepts you. “And I can’t ask for an Uber or anything, and asking my manager to come pick me up from here is only admitting that I came here in the middle of the night to have sex with you.”

You grit your teeth. You know she’s right. Just the memory of the fallout from last time makes you want to go crawl in a hole; what’s done is done, so the least you can do is to minimize the chance of this night’s events leaking out to anyone else.

“Fine. I’ll go—” you move to get up but are immediately pulled back down onto the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Going to sleep on the couch.”

“No! Just sleep here with me.”

You’ve just had sex with her, for God’s sake. You’ve even just cum inside her—hell, your semen is currently still inside her, trickling out of her battered and beaten hole drop by drop, but hearing those words coming out of her mouth causes your face to flush deep red.

“I—…” you can’t formulate a rebuttal, and knowing how stubborn Karina is, you just huff and crawl under the covers. “—fine.”

At this point, you’ve fully recovered, but you can’t let Karina know that. How are you going to be able to sleep with the leader of æspa in the same bed as you? While she’s naked, much less?

“Good night, Jonghyun~”

You let out an embarrassingly feminine squeal when you feel her bountiful bosom pressing against your back. You can feel an erection starting to form again, so you suck in your lips, praying that your racing heart calms down. Her wrapping her arms around your torso doesn’t help, and neither does feeling her soaked groin against your butt.

Damn it. She’s actually spooning you. And damn it, why are you enjoying the feeling of her body curled up against yours so much?

No, this isn’t something you should let yourself indulge in, lest you actually get a wink of sleep. For both your and her, but mostly your, sanity. “Ka—Jimin?”

After a few seconds, “Hm?”

“Can—Can you, um, give me more space?”

“Why?”

“I—” can you even admit why? “It’s a little cramped.”

“But…” you can feel your heart plummeting as you feel her hand snaking its way south. You want to tell her to stop, but it feels as though your throat is suddenly sealed shut. You think about squirming out of Karina’s embrace, but it remains only that: a thought.

Ooh, this isn’t good.

“…you’re so hard.”

The words sensually whispered in your ear in combination with her dainty fingers slipping underneath your boxers and grabbing your now fully erect cock destroy the last semblance of self-control you had been so desperately clinging to.

If she wants me to destroy her pussy and fill her up with cum until the sun rises, who am I to deny her?

Tumblr debut fic, and also first time writing in 2nd person :o

(and also first time writing in present tense)

If you noticed there’s a LOT of setup, that will be a trend for the stuff I write, so hope you’re willing to sit through it! xD

#smut #kpop smut #karina #aespa

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lazerswordweilder · 10 months ago

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Personally I think the Justice League not knowing Batman had kids would be more bad at social things Batman rather than paranoid Batman and they found out like this:

Justice league, minus Batman: *walks into the meeting room*

Superman: *freezes*

Green Lantern: what’s wrong?

Superman: …Batman. Why do you have three heart beats and why is one of them a cats?

Batman: *throws cape over his shoulders revealing Damian sleeping on his lap and a cat sitting on his lap* this is Robins cat Mr Whiskers

Flash: you have a side kick?!

Batman, confused because he thought they knew: no? I have a team?

Wonder Woman: a team?

Batman: Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, Batgirl, Signal- I thought you guys knew this *pulls out his wallet and pulls 50+ family photos out of that* how did you not? Have none of you pick pocketed me? *the Robins always steal his stuff and he assumes that both his teams do the same things*

Superman: I’m sorry, what?

Batman: how did you not know?

Green Arrow: well you don’t exactly talk about your life

Batman: yeah but you should’ve figured it out, I give figuring out your guys secret identities out as things to do when the Robins are bored. Who did you think looked after Gotham when I couldn’t?

Flash: I thought your power was being two places at once?

Batman: ??? I don’t have powers?

Everyone: WHAT

Batman: I never have?

Superman: how are you such a good fighter then?

Batman: I trained for two decades?

Flash: what.

Green Arrow: wait, why did you call them ‘the Robins’ I thought there were only two Robins?

Batman: well they were all Robin at some point, most of them anyways. Dick was the first Robin, then he became Nightwing. A while after that I found Jason and he became the second Robin, he died and then got resurrected and became a crime boss for a while and changed his name to Red Hood. And while Jason was dead Tim showed up and became Robin, Tim became Red Robin. And Damian is the current Robin.

J’onn: why do you call them by their real names, I know you know everyone’s secret identities but isn’t that rude?

Batman: what do you mean? They’re my kids? I’ve adopted all of them?

Everyone: WHAT

Superman: Wait, circle back. One of your kids got resurrected and is a crime boss

Batman: he isn’t bad, he just isn’t offically part of the team anymore but we still work togther all the time-

Flash: offically? What is there a list on the Gotham police website.

Batman: yes, it can be wrong sometimes though, they thought Batgirl was my sidekick way before I actually started training her. It took me a while to realise I couldn’t convince her to stop crime fighhting.

Green Lantern: you don’t make them when you adopt them?

Btman: NO! She was like 12! I don’t make kids fight! She wouldn’t stop and it would be mroe dangerous to leave her without proper gear or any way to call for help, and I didn’t want Nightwing to fight when I adopted him he chose to himself and when I said no he went out after Zacoo anyways, and I found Jason stealing my tires so he already knew I was Batman-

#Batman #batfam #lazerswordweilder writes

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fuxuannie · 5 months ago

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❥﹒ken sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — romantic headcanons about our favourite baseball player!

✦. love mail — i finished the movie and i loved his character development, simply the sweetest thing <3

✦. tags — SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, kenji sato x reader, i have not written in several months, i wrote this w my brain off ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ) aka i was just SPITTING whatever brain rot came to mind

I imagine Kenji to be the clingy, but doesn’t want to be type. He loves you, so much, so dearly. But affection isn’t his strong suit, especially not after what happened with his family. He shut out emotions for years, at least towards others. So this feeling of love, a nostalgic one, tends to clash with the walls he’s put up. He’ll hold you in his arms, burying his face in your shoulder, only for hours later to cringe at himself. He’s talked to you about it a thousand times, and he’s listened to you reassure him twice as many. He adores your patience with him, it's something he’s never really had.. especially with so much pressure on his shoulders.

Explaining his identity was surely no easy feat, you thought dating the most iconic and popular baseball players was the hardest thing? Imagine dating Ultraman, who came home to you every other week with some new injury. You always wondered why the reason was so simple for such a complicated wound, “I spilled boiling water on myself,” He explains with burn marks that are far more severe than expected. “I fell down the stairs”, he’ll say after landing in the hospital.. It didn’t make sense. And now that it does and you know the true reasons, your concern is far worse. Though he doesn’t mind the extra attention you give. ;)

Meeting his dad for the first time was.. nerve-wracking. You know how Kenji talks about him, and you weren’t sure what kind of impression you’ll make. But here you were, sitting on a couch and fiddling with your thumbs until you hear a doorbell. Before Kenji could even stand, you rushed to your feet and practically sprinted for the door, only to open it slowly and gently to reveal the kind old man standing outside. “Hello.” Cut to maybe an hour later, you’re laughing at old pictures of Kenji as he sits next to you and an arm wrapped around your shoulder. The two had a long path of forgiveness and understanding ahead, but Kenji appreciated that you brought him and his father together.

Thought the dad was scary? Imagine his daughter. As expected, the moment you walk into the room - distress. Emi’s starting to cry, an unfamiliar presence is in the room and it scares her. You’ve done a few babysitting jobs here and there, and she was really just like a child. Kenji apologized for her outburst and transforms to calm her down, opening the lid and picking her up under her arms. “No no, don’t cry.” His voice soothes her, and almost immediately - she’s okay again. It’ll take a few minutes, it really isn’t long until she trusts too you. Kenji found it adorable, how you played with her so casually.. many would be terrified, and rightfully so - but to him? It just displays your kind heart. My God did he love you.

Remember first headcanon? Right, to add to that, he’s not very good at vulnerability either. He’ll love to comfort you when you cry, or hold you when you need him. But if the roles were reversed? Absolutely not. He’s uncomfortable and you can see it, one look into his eyes and it’s like looking through glass.. he hates being open about his true feelings. Even if it’s with you.. the walls he’s built for 20 years aren’t easy to break, you know? But if you’re patient, and you take your time and say the right words – he’ll crack. And like a dam breaking, the water flows in an uncontrollable wave of sadness. He’ll sob, he’ll break, and he’ll need you more than anything. He doesn’t know how to feel about breaking down, but the way you hold him in your arms and whisper sweet nothings to comfort him, he could get used to it.

But on a lighthearted note, he loves dates! Most have to be in his home, because Emi can be clingy (got it from his dad), but you don’t mind. It’s sweet, he’ll have you play baseball with her or all you do is cuddle ontop of her, it’s the cutest little thing. But other times, when you go out– it’s just the two of you. And upon special request from Kenji for Mina to babysit her while you're there, you two get alone time. and it’s everything to him. The smallest affection has his heart racing like a teenage boy again, wrapping your arm around his, holding his hand, kissing him? Goodness, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you don’t even know it. You and Emi are his world, and he’ll do everything to protect it. Other days, you, him, and and his father go out to the home in the woods for some personal time. You get to talk about his childhood with him and you talk about yours. There’s such a tender and unforgettable atmosphere when you’re with them. And you truly feel like you belong.

Overotectiveness, he was full of it. He’s lost so much, and all he wanted was for you to not go either. Nothing, nothing could stop his rage at the idea of you being hurt. You, Emi, anyone else important to him. He’ll take on the world for his family, and by the will of his parents he has. The pain he’s endured, the scars you scold him for so much are for you. If one threat escapes the city, that’s one likely chance he loses you. So he does everything he can to handle it. You’ve never gotten hurt, but the idea of it is enough for him to strive to be stronger.

While recovering from the explosion, you never left his side. It pained you to see him so still, lack of life. He’d usually be pacing back and forth in the room, rambling about something, and when you’d call him a nerd or dork, he'd run to you and playfully attack you with kisses. His arms around you tightly as you two would laugh your worries away, you didn’t have that privilege. You’d either laugh alone or not at all, the pain all too much. When he wakes up, best believe you’re there, and you just cry at the sight of his arms opening. You know his body is far too unstable for a hug, so you squeeze his hand. How grateful you are to feel him squeeze back.

With Mina and Emi gone, the house feels a little more lonely.. but Kenji’s adjusting. Especially because you moved in! He’s able to spend more time with you in bed since he didn’t have to tend to Emi, which was a nice plus. He woke up earlier than you (force of habit.) and he’d just.. stare. Maybe it was a little creepy, but seeing you sound asleep in his arms gave him such joy. He loved the little domestic moments he shared with you, it had him appreciating all the smaller things in life. Like sharing a meal with you, or watching movies together. You made him love the simpler aspects of living.

#♡ — 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 #kenji sato #ken sato #kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #ultraman rising x reader #ultraman rising

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bluelockmaniac · 6 months ago

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𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 — ˎˊ˗ dad itoshi sae x mama fem!reader

"luewam, luewom, lukewome!" your three-year-old daughter squeals, her giggles ringing through the house as her tiny feet dart across the hardwood floor. you chase after her, spoon in hand, attempting to avoid stumbling on the scattered toys she never picks up.

ever since she had learned that infuriating word– the word that seemed to naturally and carelessly slip out of the impulsive lips of itoshi sae– your life had become a complete mess filled with chaos (and your child’s high-pitched laugh of triumph).

and to make matters worse, your daughter's first word was not ‘mama’. nor was it ‘papa’. you still vividly recall that day as if it had occurred yesterday.

"gah... ah..." the little carbon copy of sae babbles, her thumb tucked in her mouth, wide, sparkly eyes darting between her parents. she watches the two of you with a mixture of curiosity and confusion, sensing some sort of anticipation that her tiny brain could not yet grasp.

"sae, she's going to say her first word!" you laugh, clutching your husband's arm. although sae seemed to share only a fraction of your excitement, you could read the amused expression on his calm face.

"l-lu..." she pulls her thumb from her mouth, a glistening string of saliva stretching between her finger and lips. "luewaam!"

in that moment, your heart sinks, all the former expectations leaving you at a rapid pace, the corners of her lips curling upwards as she proudly declared her newfound term. nothing could compare to the crestfallen expression you wore that day. sae, on the other hand, chuckles proudly, scooping his little mimic into his arms.

"baby, come hereee!" you pant, pausing as you try to catch your breath. the speed of toddlers is not to be underestimated.

sae was watching all this— all your struggles— with a fond smile. he stretches out his arms for his daughter, and she cheerfully runs into her father’s embrace, her tiny hands resting on his shoulders as she steadies herself on his knees.

"you're a brat, aren't you?" he smiles at her, gently placing a hand on her back to support her. she simply giggles, then turns around and points at you with an accusatory finger.

"mama... luewam!"

you pout, setting the plate of mashed potatoes on the living room table before sitting beside them with your arms crossed against your chest.

your daughter bore a striking resemblance to sae— she had inherited your hair colour, but her eyes were identical to his, those gorgeous turquoise eyes framed by thick lashes.

"sae, see what you've taught her? i thought i told you to stop saying that word... how am i going to feed her annoying, cheeky ass now?"

you shoot her a feigned glare, and she responds by excitedly burying her messy face against sae's chest. your gaze shifted back to your guilty-looking husband.

sae simply averted his eyes from your threatening glare, his fingers ruffling through his daughter's soft hair. "she says the food is lukewarm. isn't that right, princess?" he asks.

"yesss! food luewam!" she chimes, giggles muffled against his shirt.

you couldn’t help but smile, despite your efforts to appear stern. his expression always seemed to soften when he looked at the little creature. he presses an affectionate kiss on her forehead.

he looks back at you and gestures for the spoon, which you were more than happy to hand over, and settles his daughter on his thigh. "say ahh," he prompts, gently nudging the spoon against her tightly sealed lips.

she stares at him intently, gaze drawn to the food on the bright blue spoon, before breaking into a wide grin, revealing all her tiny teeth, and opening her mouth eagerly.

she took in the food, kicking her feet back and forth delightfully in an attempt to remind you she believes the food tastes much better from her father's hand.

"there y'go... not lukewarm anymore, is it, pretty?" he pinches her plush cheeks, in which she responds with clapping her tiny hands together. she looks up at him, wordlessly pleading for more food with her sparkly eyes fluttering their long lashes at him.

"are you kidding me..." you sigh, slouching down on the couch with defeated eyes.

your daughter notices your exhaustion and interprets it as distress, her eyes beginning to well up with tears. "noo, mama!" she huffed, reaching out to comfort you. she turned to sae, fingers tapping lightly on his shoulder. "papa! mama tiwed!"

"yeah?" he settles her on your lap. "tell mama her food isn't lukewarm."

she looks back and forth between you and sae with puffed out cheeks, as you try your hardest to maintain your composure and not let her lovelines break your resolve.

puckering her lips in mock seriousness, she mumbles, "mama not luewam!”, drawing out yet another chuckle from sae. she smiles at you, “okay...?"

you would have forgiven her if not for the fact that later today, she peeked through the slightly ajar door of your bedroom, and blurted out a loud “luewome!” upon witnessing the “dizzgasting” way you kissed her father.

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darkstaria · 7 days ago

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Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 7:

Summary: Your escape from Joker doesn't go unnoticed, and you bear the consequences of attracting the attention of the bats.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

----

Burning green blinded him, searing his veins and twisting. His very breath was strained, broken and turning into what he could only describe as boiling rage.

He did the only thing he could do.

Murder the clown.

Strike after strike bore down upon the clown’s heaving body, his guns left behind on the floor, long forgotten. Any little trick up the clown's sleeve was swiftly discarded by Jason’s primal force.

The clown’s leg was held in his gloved hands, he twisted, pulling and pulling until there was an abrupt snap. The other leg was subject to the whims of his iron toe boots, breaking under the pressure.

He itched and burned to do more, fists turning into a flurry of blows upon the now unconscious clown. The clown could still cry out in pain, and that satisfied him.

Jason kept going, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough, not until he wrapped his hands around and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed and the clown finally popped.

Jason let out a breath, hands forming into an instinctive fist and aimed, until hands wrapped around his arms to pull him back.

He struggled, trying to jab out with his elbow to no avail. A voice interrupted the Green, calling out to him.

“Jason! Jason, come on!” The voice called out, demanding and desperate and somehow just enough for him to break through.

“Steph…?” He mumbled, regaining focus of the world around him. There was blood on his gloves.. his boots too.

The clown as if a train had run him over- several times. Every part of his face was bruised, green, purple and black. His limbs were in no better shape, twisted and broken into pieces that seemed like agony for doctors to put back together.

He didn't envy Joker’s recovery period.

“Shit..” Batgirl muttered, at his side. “Batman won't be happy about this.”

“Fuck Batman.” Was his instinctive response.

“Indeed..” She replied. “Well… I’ll take him back to Arkham, or actually, to the nearest doctor that won’t try to finish him off. Cass?”

A sudden movement in the shadow (that definitely didn't make Jason jump) revealed Cass, as she walked closer, a golden cage in one of her hands and Jason’s soul form in the other.

“Hurt.” Cass stated, pointing down at his soul form. Jason whistled, looking at the damage.

His soul form had always been a durable little thing, no doubt a result of his own upbringing, but this amount of damage was definitely rare. The bird’s wings were twisted, a sign that they were broken, and its breaths were slightly ragged, indicating some internal injuries.

It’d be alright, ultimately. Soul animals healed much faster than humans, as a result of them being magic.

He was mostly just glad he had bond distancing training, feeling those injuries wouldn't be fun at all. There was a dull pain in his back already, no doubt a result of his soul form’s injuries.

He sighed, kicking at the clown a bit as he did so. “Well that’s a problem.”

“Your soul animal shouldn't be out of the cave Hood, how did it get here?” Batgirl spoke, turning to look at Orphan, as the hero unlocked the cage a bat was glooming in.

“And how did Bats get here either? Out of all of us, he's had the best training, his soul animal should know the most about how important it is to our identities for them to not leave.” Batgirl frowned, confusion painted on her face.

Batman’s soul animal flitted up to rest on Orphan’s shoulder, a vision of silent solitude. Orphan gave it a little scritch on its ears.

Jason paused, considering how to word what he was about to say. The Green had mostly cleared up, but it still fogged him a little, especially as he thought of the scene he witnessed.

“There was a civilian, Joker’s victim. Tied to a chair and about to be smashed on the head by a crowbar. My soul animal appeared and took the hit.” He stuck to the facts, they were wasting too much time as is. Damn, if not for the pit rage he could have found them by now!

Batgirl gasped. Orphan shifted a little. “Wait, do you think..?” Batgirl struggled to voice the question, knowing how much it meant to them all.

“Yes.” Jason answered, blunt. “That was our soulmate.”

Abrupt movement from the window interrupted their shock, as Red Robin swooped in with a brisk move.

“Hey.” Red Robin called out, taking in their depressed faces. He paused. “What happened?”

—-

You were not having a good night. Your head hurt, your feet ached, and you would basically give anything at this point to get back home and collapse on your bed. Nothing had gone the way you had hoped for. In fact, it was now the absolute worst case scenario, other than being dead.

Now you have been exposed to two of your soulmates, potentially all of them now if they were feeling like sharing that information.

Oh and of course, you couldn't forget the Joker. Your newly acquired head injury certainly wouldn't be forgetting about it anytime soon.

You groaned, the world before you turning into brief spinning fuzz, as you trudged on.

“Why me…” You muttered, narrowly avoiding stepping in some rain water. You walked through an alleyway, vaguely guessing the direction of your house. In all honesty, you had barely the slightest inkling of where you were at this point, but you had to try.

The shadows behind you stirred, and you whipped around, making eye contact with one of your worst nightmares. Nightwing.

You shifted backwards, aiming to run away, but he caught onto the fleeing posture of your stance.

“Hey! Hey, calm down.” He spoke reassuringly, as if he was talking to a scared citizen. “I'm not going to hurt you. The inmates of Arkham Asylum have broken out, and it's not safe to be roaming the streets right now.”

He smiled, a charming little gesture, and held a hand out to you. “I can take you home, you'll be safer indoors.”

You shook your head, words failing to escape in your fear of this new problem.

He frowned. “I’m sorry but, I'm going to have to insist. It's really not safe. I’d hate for you to get hurt.” He perked up a little as he spoke the next few words. “Are you injured? I know someone who can help, her name is Leslie, she's a very safe doctor. Or if you don't have anywhere to go, I can escort you to a safe place?”

You shook your head desperately. You wanted nothing more than to get away. Your legs were shaking.

Any further time spent in the presence of your soulmates was a risk. At any point one of them could tell him and you'd be doomed. Hell, he might already know!

“I… I want to leave.” The words tumbled out, clumsy. “But not with you.”

The smile stayed on his face this time, plastered on. “It won’t be an inconvenience-” He tried.

“Please leave me alone.”

“It's really unsaf-”.

“Please leave me alone.”

“It will only take five-”.

“I said LEAVE ME ALONE!” You screamed, frustration and agony eclipsing into a fearful shout. You regretted it immediately, as it echoed through the streets. Tears welled up in your eyes. Your breath ran short.

Nightwing stood there, finally looking unsure. A part of you reveled in it, finally seeing how you always felt around them reflected on their form.

A fluttering sound broke the uncomfortable silence, a little robin flying down onto Nightwing’s shoulder.

“Robin..?” He muttered, more to himself than you. “Why are you here?”.

You meant to take the opportunity for what it was, to turn and run while you had the chance, but beady eyes turned towards you at the first movement you made.

Robin fluttered towards you, landing on your trembling hand. It gave a little coo, tilting its head a bit to stare at you. It seemed like it noticed your anxiety. It was admittedly a very cute gesture, something that acted like a balm to your scratched and raw mental state, but it didn't last for long.

“Wait…”.

Your blood froze in your veins. Everything stopped.

“Are… are you…?”

You couldn't respond to his question. Your head spun, an undercurrent of anxiety questioning every option you could make. Your shakes increased. It was noticeable.

“Ah, hey!” It seemed he spotted it. “Don’t worry so much, I know you're so terrified because of what's going on, but now I know I can keep you safe.” His hands grabbed yours, a constricting grip. You tried to take a step back, but he kept you there, not budging from his grasp. Robin shifted a little in displeasure.

“We… can keep you safe.” His eyes beamed into yours, trying to convey a feeling of safety, of reassurance.

You were numb to everything but terror.

“I've told you this once.” You muttered. “And I didn't want to say it again.” You ripped his hands from yours, pushing him away. You grabbed Robin.

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY!” You screamed, primal agony laced in your tone, your last efforts giving out.

Then, in a moment of desperation, you grabbed Robin, your littlest soul animal. And you threw him at Nightwing’s face.

His startled scream was music to your ears, as you raced out of the alleyway and down the street. If you were lucky, maybe Robin would be startled enough to give him a few scratches.

Things were finally, finally looking up. It had taken a lot. Gosh, it has taken so much from you. You couldn't go home anymore, both vigilante and villain now knew your name, but at the very least…

You could escape.

It was a mantra you chanted to yourself.

“I can escape. I can escape. I can escape.”

It remained in your brain as you ducked under windows and hid behind cars.

I can escape I can escape I can escape.

A slip of blue in the shadows was your only warning, before cruel pain pierced your arm.

“Ack!” You clutched at it, noticing what could only be a dart now embedded in you. You ripped it out as you ran, hoping that would be it.

IcanescapeIcanescapeIcanescape-

The world started falling to pieces before your very eyes, a black void stealing the places of buildings, cars, wherever you looked.

Your rush turned into a stumble.

Escape-escape-escape-

You were limping through an alleyway when your limbs finally gave up on you. The adrenaline finally losing to the tranquiliser.

“Escape…” You mumbled.

You glanced up.

A dark shadow was the only thing you could see. A giant figure, clad in a long cape.

A resentful part of you thought that the cape would be a rather warm thing to snuggle up to.

A hand reached out from the darkness.

You passed out.

----

Happy Halloween!!

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! Actually, there won't be too many chapters left now, we're coming to the end of Reader's struggle. Ofc, I will be going extra's that aren't actual chapters, and they'll have some extra details that are excluded from Reader's pov.

Also, I definitely have to apologise for how long this one took. I do have my reasons! Had an ear infection, then a holiday (that was pretty neat actually) and currently I have COVID lol. So I was a bit busy there.

But Halloween deserves to be celebrated just as much as everyone deserves another chapter, so here you go!

It is a bit of a shame I won't be able to make an actual Halloween piece. Maybe I'll make something a few days after Halloween? How do people feel about a coraline inspired DC oneshot?

Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0 @jailbimbo @yandereheros @sxftiebee @i-have-three-feelings @toast-on-dandelioms @lyl-3 @sitepathos @pato-spoiler-27 @ghostdoodlen @phoenixgurl030 @problematicreblogger

@sociallyakwardpanda @imaginarydreams @zanzie @yuyuzi-ling @soriansick @f1lover4ever @kiikkey @elizzsush @raincxtter @luoyi85 @yune1337 @erikasurfer @thekingofsimps @chaosbeanuwu @snowy-violet @nommingonfood @yandere-enthusiast @nb-babygirl @demonqueen-1 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @winter67890-blog

Tumblr just told me I can't tag anyone else, so the list ends here. I'll add the others in a comment!

#yandere #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #soul animal au #yandere batfamily #yandere robin #my writing #darkstaria #yandere red hood #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere red robin #yandere nightwing #yandere dick grayson #yandere damian wayne

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anteomnia · 11 months ago

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just endlessly thinking about blue eye samurai.

thinking about how akemi, taigen, and mizu are if a coin had three sides or maybe just the two and mizu is the bridge of metal between them.

akemi being the ideal image for women, for the life they endure. she was simultaneously a princess, a prostitute, and a prisoner. her entire life was men making decisions for her, even the ones that had good intentions, and she believed her deepest desire was freedom. it still is, but she has been revealed to this heinous predicament of her gender, and she’s realized that to reach true freedom as a woman is to be the bird in the cage, to play nice and to earn the love of a man until he buys her a bigger cage and a bigger cage until he trusts her not to fly away. and it'll never be true freedom, but it will come with power. it'll come with the freedom of only one master rather than many.

taigen being the ideal image of a man. not all powerful, but not weak. he had a taste of what it'd be to succeed, and when it was taken from him, that easy success, he mistook it for his honor. he hunted mizu down to kill him, and instead he saved him. he saved him and saved him and he came closer to killing mizu when they were on the cliff's edge, and just when he gets to the point where he may actually fight mizu, he's tortured for information on him. he is tortured. Literally tortured within an inch of his life, enduring such a heinous violence, and he refuses to break. this man was a fight, was the torturer, and the victim of his torturing could've been his salvation from pain but he refused. mizu gave back taigen's honor but not by fighting him.

akemi wanted freedom and learned she would need power to have it.

taigen wanted power and learned that the violence that came with it was infinite and dishonorable.

and then there's mizu. mizu who wants revenge, wants acceptance. arguably the same things as them both. mizu wants acceptance, the freedom of living and the freedom to love and be loved. mizu wants revenge, which follows after violence and power, to get said acceptance. she thinks she must do both, have both, to live peacefully, and she's blatant about how she will not live without either.

she's given acceptance with the blacksmith, her "mother," her husband, but she sees the flecks of avoidance in it.

the blacksmith will not hear of her true gender. her "mother" will not acknowledge the crime of her birth. her husband can't find tolerance for the violence within her, the man of her.

and so she has to balance the woman and man of her, the ronin and the bride. taigen and akemi. and it's meeting mizu that they start to unravel their own identities.

mizu, who is both, and akemi and taigen who thought themselves one but turned out to be neither.

god.

#complexities #and comparisons #i think they are so much more than what i’ve said but just #the cinematography #and the metaphors #the underlying theme of birds #blue eye samurai #the poetry that you are #it feels like every scene was specifically crafted #like they did not make one undeliberate mark #like it all has meaning #i’m insane #mizu #taigen #akemi #mizu x akemi x taigen #the ronin and the bride

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 4 months ago

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Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.

Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.

This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.

Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.

So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)

To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.

Let's Talk Magical Girls

Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.

A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.

Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.

Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:

Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.

This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?

Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.

But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.

Origins as a Rom-com

Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!

In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!

First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:

Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.

I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:

Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.

This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?

In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).

Magical Girls Vs Rom-com

Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?

It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.

Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?

It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!

Are you starting to see the problem?

Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.

When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!

How Do We Fix This Mess

At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.

At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.

Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.

If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?

A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.

I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better #alya deserves better #nino deserves better #My queendom for a team show #I was promised a team show!#Why even give the boys powers if you don't want the boys to have screentime?

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marcyvampire · 4 days ago

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pt.4 SILLY LITTLE BAT

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ In a Gotham steeped in darkness, Bruce Wayne confronts a past resonating with secrets. As he uncovers the identity of an enigmatic antiheroine, he will discover hidden truths that will stain his legacy. Blood, a symbol of betrayals, intertwines with his fate, revealing that darkness dwells within him as well.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, Religion, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, tw.noncon, Discrimination, Street Fights, Gaslight, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia

Chapter guide! Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is— I took a long time because I went on vacation, I wasn’t inspired, I had a lot of things to catch up on, and blah blah blah. The good thing is that I brought part 4, and just so you know, there are about four or five more parts of the story, maybe more.

I'm dirty, infinitely dirty,

this is why I scream so much

about purity.

Bruce sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of the memories and the silence that now inhabited that room. Every corner of that space reminded him of his daughter's presence, a presence that had been fragile and ephemeral, like smoke disappearing between fingers. He looked at the diplomas and trophies on the shelves, those small proofs of her effort and dedication. He caressed them with the same reverence he used when going through old photographs, searching for something, anything, that would tell him he had done enough, that he had been a good father.

But he only saw the same emptiness in her eyes that he had known since childhood. She resembled him more than he would have imagined. In her dull gaze, in her absent smile, he recognized the same pain that had accompanied him after his parents' death. He realized, almost bitterly, that this darkness was an inheritance, a shadow he had left in her without realizing it.

Bruce ran his fingers over an old photo from her first birthday after losing his mother. That day, Alfred had secretly taken her to Metropolis in a desperate attempt to give her some happiness. But even at the amusement park, where laughter and noise were contagious, her face remained a vacant mask. She wasn’t really smiling, as if something inside her knew she would never have the normalcy that other children enjoyed.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce rested his head on the pillow that had been hers, wanting to cling to the scent of his daughter. But there was no trace of her aroma left. Alfred, in an act of rigor that Bruce couldn’t understand, had eliminated any trace of her, perhaps trying to close a wound that Bruce was unwilling to let heal. He had reproached Alfred for hours and hours for erasing that last vestige of his daughter. But Alfred’s look, serious and filled with silence, told him what he already knew: maybe he didn’t deserve to keep those memories because he had failed to protect the person he loved most.

He closed his eyes, sinking into the pain of each thought that emerged from that dark room. Everything reminded him that, somehow, he was responsible for his daughter's disappearance, as if his own shadows had consumed her. In his mind, images of what he could have done differently began to surface, a parade of possibilities where he was a better father, more attentive and less blind to her suffering.

Suddenly, Titus and Alfred the Cat entered together through the door, coming in silently, as if they understood the weight of that moment. Titus approached Bruce, resting his massive head on his knee, while Alfred the Cat jumped onto Bruce's lap, purring softly. Bruce petted the dog and the cat, finding in them the only comfort that seemed left to him. His voice trembled when, in an almost delirious tone, he confessed to them:

"Maybe I’m the real killer here. What kind of father lets his daughter get lost in the dark? What kind of monster was I that I never saw her pain? If she’s dead… if my little girl has left this world… then I am the only one responsible."

He paused, breathing heavily, as the words he wanted to suppress escaped his lips in a bitter and disturbing whisper. "Sometimes I wish I had… had stopped her mother. If she hadn’t been… if I had raised her from the beginning… I could have saved her from so much pain."

The words, though spoken in a barely audible murmur, weighed heavily in the room. He caressed the pillow, almost pleading for the past to change, for every mistake to be undone. The cat purred softly, as if understanding the pain Bruce was trying to stifle deep in his chest. Titus looked at him with eyes full of loyalty, without judging him, but not offering the redemption he desperately sought.

"I would give anything for a second chance," he whispered, his voice broken. "I would give my life to undo every moment that made her drift away. I would give anything to see her smile again, even if it were just once… even if it were just to tell her how sorry I am."

The house was silent, and in that instant, Bruce understood that there were no words, no time, no strength that could change the past. He was trapped in an abyss of guilt, with only shadows and memories now haunting him, reflecting his own empty and broken face.

Finally, he could no longer contain himself. Feeling the emptiness in his chest, tears began to fall onto the pillow, soaking it with his pain, as if the weight of his own guilt slid out in every sob he tried to stifle. His face was buried in the memory of his daughter, lost in the pain that tormented him with an intensity he could no longer bear.

It was then that Damian entered, dressed as Robin, with his katana stained with a dark red liquid that could be nothing other than blood, with a sharp and direct arrogance, breaking the silent mourning of Bruce. Coldly, he looked at his father and pronounced, almost with disdain, "No matter how much you cry like a whore, Y/N won’t come back."

Bruce looked up, surprised and hurt, but before he could respond, Damian continued with the same hardness. "While everyone was out in a gang like a bunch of lowlifes and came back empty-handed, I found something you didn’t even bother to look for while lying here like a cheap whore." Damian looked at him with a mix of disappointment and reproach, as if he couldn’t understand how his father had let so many signs slip by.

"Did you know? I had a relationship with Ivy, that old woman who had the indecency to date my little sister while being an old hag. Plus, she worked as a waitress in some bar wearing little clothes to survive. Like some common bitch. And the last time, she was seen in the subway, with a strange man with psychiatric crazy vibes... surely another one that slipped away while you were lying here." Damian’s words were blows to Bruce, each revelation a testament to how much he had let slip away.

Damian continued, each phrase laden with resentment and questions. "Why did she have to work? Why did she, the daughter of the renowned multimillionaire Bruce Wayne, the masked hero of Gotham, have to depend on a miserable paycheck that didn’t even cover the end of the month? And the subway, father, did she really have to take the subway like any unknown person in this city?"

Bruce looked down, unable to respond. Each of those questions was a dagger reminding him how far he had been from understanding his own daughter. He had ignored, or perhaps never wanted to see, the sacrifices she made to survive, the paths she took in search of something he had never given her. Now, with Damian's words filling the silence, Bruce realized he had condemned his daughter to the same fate he was trying to combat on the streets.

Damian watched him, his gaze cold and critical, as the room filled with a tense silence. For the first time, Bruce understood that perhaps he was never the hero he thought he was, and that in his attempt to protect everyone, he had failed to protect the one who needed him the most.

Bruce felt anger bubbling inside him, intensifying with each word that left Damian's lips. "How dare you come in here and say that? You weren’t a brother to her, you weren’t there when she needed you the most," he shot back, his voice echoing in the room like dark thunder. The image of his daughter intertwined with his rage, each contained tear now fueling his fury.

Damian frowned, unrestrained. "That's how I show my affection; you should be used to it," he retorted disdainfully, recalling that moment when he arrived at the mansion, he had stabbed Y/N with his katana. "I did what I had to do, and I don’t have to accept your reproaches. Everyone failed Y/N, even you."

"Don’t try to blame others for your own failures!" Bruce shouted, frustration filling every corner of his being. "You weren’t there, Damian. You can’t always hide behind your arrogance."

Damian crossed his arms, his defiant attitude unbreakable. "And what if I wasn't? At least I didn’t hide behind a mask of sadness. Better stop reproaching me and listen to what I have for you." He stepped closer, pulling out a half-open old cardboard box. "I brought you a gift."

Bruce looked at him suspiciously. "What is it now?"

"I went looking for Selina, but she slipped away like a scared kitten," Damian said, mocking the situation. "A waste of time, but I found Ivy in Arkham. She said little about Y/N, which annoyed me, so… well, here you go." He opened the box slowly, revealing Poison Ivy's head, the fresh blood still dripping from the edges.

Her face, once beautiful, was now serene, with pale skin and a touch of green that evoked her connection to nature. Her normally vibrant red hair now fell messily around her face, while her eyes, closed forever, seemed almost at peace, as if she had found a breath in the chaos she once inhabited.

Bruce felt as if the world had stopped. There was no horror in his gaze, only an emptiness where anger and sadness collided. "What have you done?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, but resignation permeated every word. The life of his daughter, the decisions he had made and what that meant now overwhelmed him.

Damian shrugged. "She was a monster, just like all of us. What matters is that now you have something tangible, something you can show."

"What kind of family are we?" Bruce let slip, feeling defeated. "This family is a failure."

"Oh, so it turns out we’ve been a family all this time?" Damian replied, scornful, but his tone was less certain.

Bruce closed his eyes, feeling the discomfort of the situation. "Take me to the apartment where she lived," he said, his voice enigmatic and cold. It was a request that resonated with the gravity of what he had lost, an echo of what he had failed to protect. As Damian looked at him with surprise and a hint of concern, Bruce knew that the truth he would face in that place was beyond any form of redemption. The darkness that had invaded his life was about to be confronted, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for what he would find.

As Bruce and Damian prepared to leave, Titus and Alfred the Cat watched them from a distance. The dog remained alert, his ears perked, as if he could sense the tension looming in the air. His instinct told him that something grave was about to happen. Alfred, with his wise and sharp gaze, seemed to share the same unease, his eyes fixed on the men who were heading toward the dark fate they had chosen.

As Bruce and Damian headed for the door, Titus stepped forward, his expression a mix of concern and determination. It was as if he were trying to convey a silent message, a call to reason that his owners could not hear amid their emotional turmoil. Alfred the Cat, with his elegant stride, approached Bruce and rubbed his head against his leg, seeking comfort for the hero who seemed on the brink of losing himself even further in the darkness.

Turning around, Bruce felt a pang in his heart. He looked at his animals, those innocent beings who had always been there to offer him companionship, and realized that they were aware of what was about to come. In a world where violence and betrayal lurked around every corner, their departure was the beginning of something much darker.

With one last look, Bruce found himself in Titus's eyes, reflecting a mix of loyalty and worry. It was as if the dog knew that the decision they were making would not only affect them but would also drag others into a chaos from which they could not escape.

Damian, impatient, had already crossed the threshold, but Bruce paused for one more moment. "I’m sorry," he murmured, although he was not sure to whom he was really addressing: whether to the animals who looked at him with eyes full of wisdom or to himself for the path he had chosen.

However, it was already too late to turn back. With one last glance at the room where it all began, and at the animals who looked at him with concern, Bruce stepped into the dark world that awaited them, unaware that soon, everything would get worse. The air was charged with ominous anticipation, and the feeling that tragedy loomed over them like a shadow, deep and inevitable.

You lay on the bed, your body still heavy from the forced encounter, thoughts fluttering in your mind like butterflies trapped in a net. The room was enveloped in an unsettling gloom, the air thick with a tension that could not be ignored. Beside you, he breathed with a calm that contrasted with the whirlwind inside you. There was no name, no face to remember; it was just him, the one who had kidnapped you and made you his own, a figure who had taken your life and distorted it at will.

As you stared at the ceiling, the silence became a mirror of your thoughts. Rage and hatred toward your family surged within you, feelings that had once seemed so distant. They didn’t understand you, they hadn’t been there to protect you, and now, in this strange intimacy, you found yourself wishing to be with him more than with them. Confusion engulfed you; on one hand, there was a part of you longing for affection and acceptance, while on the other, there was a strange pleasure in the situation, a desire to escape the life that had caused you so much suffering.

Despite everything, you missed your mother. Her laughter, her hugs, the way she always knew how to calm your fears. But that maternal figure was slowly fading from your memory, drowned by the anguish of betrayal and loneliness. You found yourself trapped between the desire to remember the good and the hatred toward the past that had brought you here.

As the room remained silent, a dark and almost self-destructive impulse took hold of you. With trembling movements, you picked up a sharp object and pressed it against your skin, feeling a sting that was both physical and emotional. In that moment, you thought about the irony of your situation: you had lost control of your life, and in seeking an escape, you chose to hurt yourself.

The duality of your feelings was heartbreaking. On one hand, you yearned for freedom, to reclaim your identity and the love that had been taken from you. On the other, there was a part of you that felt alive in this new relationship, a twisted connection that kept you captive. The internal struggle manifested in every thought and every action, revealing the complexity of your situation.

You remembered moments from his life, the wounds he carried, and the pain he had faced. Had Bruce ever been so lost, so filled with sadness that he had to do the unthinkable to feel something? The idea that the man you admired could also have been vulnerable struck you like a revelation. You wondered if he had ever cried in solitude, questioning his place in the world, if he had ever felt so trapped in his own life.

As you touched your stomach, an old pain resurfaced. There, beneath the skin, was a scar, a reminder of the time Damian had hurt you with his katana, an act that had been both an attack and a cry of desperation. The brush of your fingers over the wound, although healed, still brought memories of suffering and betrayal, a deep connection intertwined with the pain you felt now. The scar was a metaphor for your life: a wound that would never fully heal, a reminder that pain is part of your existence.

Tears fell more forcefully as you thought about how your family’s decisions, rivalries, and chaos had influenced your life. Bruce, with his constant struggle against the shadows of his past, was a reflection of what you could have been: strong, determined, but also broken and lost. In that moment, you felt just like him, entangled in a cycle of suffering and confusion.

You allowed yourself to cry, feeling that perhaps in that vulnerability there was some freedom. It was a relief, an act of resistance in the midst of the oppression that surrounded you. As the outside world faded away, the pain of the scar became a reminder that, despite everything, there was still a part of you yearning to break free, wanting to escape this darkness. And amid that sadness, one thought grew stronger: perhaps, just perhaps, there was a way to find your path again.

The man let go of your cheek and, with a casual gesture, lit a cigarette, the smoke dancing in the air like shadows in the dim light of the room. His eyes, fixed on you, had a dangerous intensity. "Do you see this?" he said, exhaling the smoke slowly. "Now you are stained, like Gotham. You’ve been in the mud, and it’s your duty to clean yourself up. This is just the beginning."

He looked at you with a twisted smile, an expression that mixed amusement and dominance. "You have to understand that you can’t escape from what you are. The city is a reflection of yourself. And like Gotham, you too need to be purified." With a sudden movement, he offered you the cigarette. "Smoke. It will help you forget the tears."

You hesitated, but his eyes challenged you, a clear message that there was no room for denial. With a mix of fear and despair, you brought the cigarette to your lips, feeling its bitterness touch your tongue. "Don’t make me repeat myself," he said, his voice a cold whisper. "I want you to feel the poison, just like the city does. You are part of it now, and you must accept your role."

The pressure of his words overwhelmed you, each syllable a reminder of your distorted reality. "But why me?" you stammered, feeling desperation twisting inside you. "Why do I have to be part of this?"

"Because there is no choice," he replied with disdain. "There never was. Every day, every decision you made has led you here. Weakness is not an option. Look around you; Gotham has no place for the weak. If you want to survive, you need to get your hands dirty. And believe me, there is a lot of blood to clean up."

Your heart raced as you inhaled the smoke, the burning filling your lungs and leaving a feeling of emptiness. "What do you want from me?" you asked, feeling the power he had over you strangling you.

"I just want you to accept your new place. I want you to understand that in this world, death and destruction are inevitable. There is no redemption for the stained, but you can try to fix it… in your own way."

He trapped you in a dark cycle of thoughts, where each of his words echoed in your mind like a terrifying echo. You knew he was playing with you, manipulating your emotions. "If you don’t clean yourself, you will suffer the consequences. And if you cry for her again, I promise you will pay for it," he said, tightening his grip on your arm.

As the smoke dissipated into the air, the feeling of being trapped became more palpable. You found yourself between acceptance and internal struggle, but deep down, you knew you had to find a way out. However, the darkness around you grew more intense, and each of his words was another chain binding you to this fate you had not chosen.

The air thickened as he exhaled smoke, the room filling with a gray fog that seemed to reflect the chaos in your mind. He looked at you with an intensity that overflowed with obsession, a strange mix of affection and dominance that enveloped you. Despite the tears running down your face, you felt no sadness or fear. You had passed the stage of terror; now you felt strangely alive, almost liberated in your pain.

"My dear," he said in a soft yet authoritative voice, "you must not see this as a punishment. It is a purification. Gotham needs someone who understands its pain, and you are the chosen one." He leaned closer to you, his hot breath on your skin. "You are like a spark in this darkness, and together we can illuminate it. You just have to let the poison flow through you. With each tear, you are cleansing the city."

As he held you, the contact between the two of you was electric, and a part of you began to understand his madness, the way he had woven his dreams of greatness and purification through your own desires for belonging. "Did you know my mother was in Arkham?" he continued, as if sharing a special secret. "She was stained too. In her mind, she fought demons that no one else could see, just like you now. And look where she ended up: trapped in her own memories, in her own shadows."

The revelation hit you. A fragment of pain resurfaced, intertwining with the new knowledge. "What… what happened to her?" you asked, your voice trembling. It wasn’t sadness you felt; it was curiosity to know that story that had remained hidden.

"She got lost in the darkness of Gotham, just like everyone else," he said with contempt. "But that doesn’t have to be your destiny. You are stronger. My mother let herself be consumed by her madness, but you… you can take control. Let me guide you."

You fell silent, contemplating his words. The tears continued to fall, but now they were just a part of you, a manifestation of the internal struggle. You knew you were trapped in a dangerous game, but there was something in his promise of power and control that began to seduce you.

"So cry if you need to," he said, caressing your cheek with a touch that was both gentle and threatening. "But don’t let those tears weaken you. Every time you feel the urge to cry for her, remember what you are. Remember that the city needs someone like you to cleanse it of the filth."

"How can I do that?" you asked, feeling the echo of his words resonate in your mind. "How can I clean something so deeply rooted in darkness?"

"With determination," he answered firmly, his eyes shining with a mix of fervor and madness. "You must learn to see the beauty in chaos. There is power in pain. With every action you take, with every decision you make, you will be purifying Gotham of its own decay. And I will be by your side, guiding you. Together, we will be unstoppable."

As you absorbed his words, a strange sense of purpose began to take shape within you. Although his love was perverse, there was something in his vision that resonated with you, as if you were destined to fulfill that role. As the smoke from the cigarette faded into the air, so too did your fears, leaving only a cold and clear determination: you were going to take control of your destiny, even if it meant losing yourself in the process.

"No! I don’t want you to go!" shouted little Y/n, clinging to her mother's handbag with the desperation of someone who knows something important is about to slip away.

Her mother, a blonde woman with a tired gaze, let out a sigh of impatience. Y/n couldn't quite remember her face, but she knew it hardened at the tug on her bag, and without thinking, she pushed the girl, causing her to fall to the ground with a dull thud. Y/n looked up from below, her big eyes reflecting a mix of fear and pain.

"Stop being silly, Y/n," her mother murmured, struggling to hide the tremor in her voice. She leaned down, trying to smile, but the coldness in her eyes betrayed her. "You know I have to do this... for both of us. Everything I do is for you, even if you don’t understand it now."

The girl nodded slowly, but inside, she felt the truth—that repeated phrase was just a curtain. She knew there was something broken in her mother, something she was too young to fully comprehend but sensed in every harsh gesture, in every bitter word that hung in the air. Something that made her feel alone, even when they were together.

Her mother straightened up, adjusting the bag as if it weighed tons. She raised a hand in a mechanical farewell, and without another word, she left through the door without looking back.

Days passed in a haze of silence and dry tears. Y/n had no idea how much time had passed since her mother left, leaving the echo of her footsteps as the only reminder of her presence. Hugging herself, she spent the nights waiting for some familiar sound that never came.

When she finally opened her eyes, she realized her surroundings had completely changed. She was no longer at home; she was sitting in a cold, unfamiliar room, with gray walls and flickering lights dimly overhead. In the distance, she could hear whispering voices.

"How is it possible that someone left such a small child alone?" It was the firm, serious voice of a man. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she distinguished a police badge on the man's uniform. It read Commissioner Gordon.

Next to him, a red-haired woman spoke in a low voice. "Dad, you can't be sure. Maybe it was just a lie. You know how her mother was: a history of psychiatric hospitals and drugs at home. How do we know she didn't make up the story about Wayne?"

"Barbara, we have evidence that doesn't lie," Gordon replied coldly, his tone tinged with disdain. "We know the paternity test is real."

The girl felt the world sway around her. She listened to every word and felt each comment like a dagger sinking deeper into her chest. Those adults, figures of authority and trust, spoke of her mother as if she were little more than a mistake, something despicable that had left scars on her life. Sitting there, hidden behind a wall and hugging her knees, tears returned to her eyes, a mix of sadness and a terrifying understanding of what it meant to be alone in the world.

"Do you really think someone like that should have had a child in her care?" Barbara said from her wheelchair, her tone full of contempt. "She was probably just looking for easy money, manipulating everyone she could."

Commissioner Gordon frowned, clearly uncomfortable. "Barbara, that's not fair! Even if she didn’t lead the best life, she was still a citizen like anyone else, and she had the right to rebuild her life. No one is perfect."

From her corner, Y/n tried to cover her ears, but Barbara's words were impossible to ignore.

"I can't believe it, Dad. How could anyone in their right mind have left a child in the hands of that woman?" Barbara said with a cold, almost poisoned voice. "Someone who clearly had drug addiction problems and who was in and out of psychiatric hospitals. I bet she didn’t even know who the real father was."

Each word made Y/n's chest tighten even more. Her mind screamed silently: Stop! Please stop saying that about her! Her small hands trembled as she remembered the moments she had spent with her mother. Her mother, who although had those dark days and her brusque manner, had fed her, tucked her in, and cared for her as best as she could. Despite her mistakes, she had been her mother, and that was all Y/n could understand.

But Barbara’s words kept filling the room, like a storm of resentment. "I don't know how Bruce can even be involved in something like this. That woman was a burden to everyone. I can't imagine anyone worse as a mother."

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to block it out. It's not true. She’s not bad. She took care of me. We didn’t have much, but she always tried to be there for me. But no matter how hard her thoughts tried to silence the pain, Barbara's words left deep scars, increasingly difficult to heal.

As Y/n remained there, her tears already dry, her thoughts twisted in her mind like threatening shadows. She heard the echoes of Barbara's cruel words and Gordon's, and a silent resentment grew in her chest, almost like a slow poison. She tried to remember the good moments with her mother, but the dark thoughts seemed to drown them out. She was good, she was good... No, you can't say that about her... But those same thoughts tangled with hate and confusion, and the pain grew stronger.

Suddenly, everything turned white. The walls, the voices, the cold metal chair beneath her legs... everything disappeared into a blinding void that enveloped every corner of her mind. And then, there was only her, standing in that white abyss, with a strange weight on her shoulders and in her hands.

She looked down and saw a white armor, shining as if made of shards of moon and shadow. It covered her body completely, with firm, polished plates that fit like a second skin, protecting every part of her. The gauntlets were solid, with sharp and detailed edges, and in her hands, she wielded two katanas whose blades reflected that void like deadly mirrors.

The design of the armor was imposing and terrifying. The helmet resembled a bat, with long pointed ears extending upward, and a dark V-shaped visor that barely revealed her eyes. The lines that ran across her chest and arms formed the silhouette of folded wings, as if that bat awaited to unfold at any moment. The chest was engraved with fine black details, resembling veins radiating dark power. In the center, a small emblem in the shape of a black teardrop contrasted with the radiant white of the armor, like a mark of pain and sacrifice.

In the dim light of the void where she stood, Y/n felt the weight of the katanas in her hands as if they were extensions of her own being. In that moment, the white armor fit her like a comforting embrace, a reminder of the power she now possessed. She looked at herself in a non-existent reflection, feeling that every part of her being was ready to act, to reclaim what she had lost.

With a tremor of emotion and a palpable obsession, she held them to her chest, hugging them tightly. Words flowed from her lips, laden with a burning, almost manic desire: "Soon you will be mine... I will go home. I will be my little girl again."

The echo of her voice resonated in the white void, vibrating with the intensity of her longing. In her mind, an image formed of a home, a place where shadows no longer lurked and where her mother, though imperfect, would be able to embrace her once more. The idea of being together again, of transforming her pain into power, filled her with a fierce determination.

"I will come back for you," she whispered, her voice choked with a mix of tears and a crazed smile. "Nothing will stop me. I promise." The choked laughter turned into a murmur of echoes, resonating in the abyss like a sinister promise, as the world around her began to fade again, leaving her alone with her obsession and her new identity.

In the silence, whispers began to rise, soft at first, but increasingly insistent. One word repeated, muted yet burning, like a spark in the shadows.

The word reverberated in the void, growing more intense, like a kind of dark mantra. And when Y/n could barely bear the weight of those voices, one final phrase emerged, chilling and final:

"Death is the ultimate prize."

You walked through the halls of the old apartment block, your white armor shining in the dim light, like a bat defying the embrace of the night. The echoes of your heels resonated, a dark song reverberating in the solitude of the worn walls.

Your figure, sculpted in gleaming metal, was a silhouette of elegance and mystery, as you hummed a forgotten melody, slipping between the shadows like a whisper of the forbidden. Each step was a heartbeat in the silence, a chilling reminder that there is still life in abandonment.

The portraits on the walls watched you, empty eyes that seemed to come alive, as you moved with the grace of a specter, a macabre dance of light and shadow at dusk.

The doors, worn and creaking, whispered secrets of past stories, and you, guardian of those forgotten tales, advanced fearlessly, seeking what was left behind.

You were an enigma, a reflection of the lost, a shadow walking, dressed in white, in a world clinging to its demons, where the past and present intertwine in a lethal embrace, and the night waits, eager for your return.

You paused before the door of one of the apartments, its frayed wood opening like an abyss, a dark invitation that defied logic. The silence became thick, almost palpable, and the echo of your humming faded, leaving a void that swallowed the darkness.

The threshold awaited you, a portal to the unknown, and a cold breeze, laden with whispers, caressed your skin like a lost lover. Inside, the shadows seemed to come alive, a palace of echoes and laments, where time had woven a web.

Your heart raced, a mix of adrenaline and challenge, as you gently pushed the door. It creaked in protest, like an old ghost, and when it opened, revealed an abandoned world, furniture covered in dust, with withered memories.

The remnants of a past life crowded every corner, and a scent of decay floated in the air, but something more, a glimpse of presence, urged you to enter, to explore the hidden. You peered in, and the dimness embraced you, as if the apartment claimed you as its own.

Each step on the creaky floor was an act of daring, and the walls seemed to murmur forgotten secrets, stories of betrayed loves and lost souls. In the center of the room, a dark, diffuse, and shadowy figure formed among the shadows, like an echo of your own existence, a reflection of what could have been.

You stood still, breath held in the abyss of the moment, the half-open door, a threshold to your destiny, and the silence, now laden with promises, stripped you of fears, leaving only the certainty that in that space, you faced the echoes of your own darkness.

As you advanced, your eyes fixed on a dusty, worn wooden box resting on the small dining table. Something about it drew you in, as if it held a dark secret. You approached and, with trembling hands, opened it. Inside, horror was revealed: the head of Poison Ivy, the green hair still vibrant, a gaze frozen in time. You didn’t cry, but a slight tremor coursed through your body, a mixture of surprise and disdain for the brutality that had taken place in that space.

"Normally you enter through the window," you murmur to the air, with an ironic smile on your lips, as if addressing a presence you hoped would appear.

And then, as if the night itself had responded to your call, Batman emerged from the shadows, his dark figure silhouetted against the dim light coming through the window. The air became tense in an instant.

"Who are you?" he asked, his grave voice resonating with a mix of distrust and anger. "What are you doing in the apartment of Bruce Wayne's daughter?"

You laughed, a laugh that echoed in the empty room, filled with irony and knowledge.

"His daughter?" you mocked, your eyes shining with a mix of challenge and amusement. "So Y/n is your daughter. Isn’t it curious how things intertwine in this city?"

The silence grew heavy, and you felt his gaze intensify, evaluating every word you had spoken. He knew you had crossed a line, but the revelation had ignited a spark of playfulness in you.

"How do you know who I am?" The question slipped from his lips, but there was no fear, just an unsettling curiosity.

"Gotham has its secrets, Bruce. And I, like you, am part of this darkness. The identity of a hero or heroine is just a game of shadows, and in this game, you and I know how to move between the lines."

You stood firm, the tension between you palpable, as the echo of laughter still resonated in the air. Batman's figure, always imposing and enigmatic, seemed to waver at the revelation that in this dark labyrinth, he was not the only player.

The tension intensified, and Batman took a step forward, approaching you with an intense gaze.

"How do you know about my daughter?" he inquired, his voice brusque, each word laden with frustration. You remained firm, crossing your arms, letting the silence settle between you.

"Oh, Gotham speaks, even in whispers. The city has a way of revealing what heroes prefer to hide," you replied disdainfully. "Your life, your secrets, are more exposed than you think." He frowned, anger crackling in his eyes.

"What do you know about Y/N?" he demanded, his voice low and threatening, as if waiting for you to throw down a challenge.

"I know you didn't want her. That you left her in the shadows while you dedicated yourself to your personal crusade," you replied, irony dancing in your tone. "That girl grew up without a father, and you, the great hero of Gotham, preferred to be a myth."

Rage etched itself on his face, but there was something more, a hidden pain surfacing behind the armor of his anger.

"It's not that simple, and you have no idea what I've done for her," he retorted, his voice tense, each word like a blow.

"Really?" you asked, flashing a mocking smile. "What have you done? Cut off her partner's head, the only person I love, just to extract invalid information? What a great father."

An uncomfortable silence settled between you, as the air vibrated with unspoken emotions.

"You are not one to judge me," he declared, his voice tense. "You know nothing of what I've sacrificed."

"Maybe not, but I know enough about the void you've left," you replied, undeterred. "And I know Ivy was there for her. You, the hero, vanished while others took on the role of father."

The anger shone in his eyes, but there was also a spark of recognition. He observed you, assessing the courage that led you to challenge him.

"And who are you to come and point fingers? A lost anti-heroine in her own struggle?" he shot back, his voice laden with contempt.

"I am what Gotham needs," you replied, confident. "A reminder that even heroes like you can fail."

The discussion turned into a power struggle, both of you clinging to your truths, while Poison Ivy's head remained a sinister reminder of the choices you both had made.

Suddenly, Batman's fury exploded like lightning in the darkness. Without warning, he seized you by the neck, lifting you with surprising strength. The air became scarce, and the pressure on your throat made you feel vulnerable, although the mockery never left your expression.

"Where is Y/N?" he demanded, his voice charged with rage and desperation. The shadows moved around him, intensifying his figure, which seemed more monster than hero at that moment.

Despite the iron grip, you kept your gaze fixed on him, challenging him, feeling the adrenaline pulse through your veins.

"Are you that worried about her whereabouts?" you replied, a mocking smile barely hiding your disdain. "Maybe she's hanging from a hook in a slaughterhouse, who knows? That would be an ironic twist for a girl who grew up in the shadow of a hero, don’t you think?"

His eyes narrowed, anger and helplessness battling within him. You leaned in closer, feeling the pressure on your neck, but that only fueled your defiance.

"Don't laugh about this!" he roared, tightening his grip slightly. The fury in his voice was palpable, but something deeper kept him on edge.

"Me? Laughing? You, the great Batman, scared for your daughter's life?" you shot back, never breaking eye contact.

The tension was becoming unbearable, but there was something fascinating about the game you were playing. He was caught between rage and fear, and you, in your shadowy game, fed off his anguish.

"Do you know something? You're losing yourself in your own legend," you continued, while he held you in the air. "I'm sure you once dreamed that she would have died in that alley with her mother."

In that instant, something in his expression changed. The anger slowly faded, giving way to a deep concern, though he still held you firmly.

"I warn you," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours. "If you lie to me, I won't show mercy."

You laughed again, though the risk was imminent, as your heart raced.

"And what will you do?" you challenged, your voice trembling but resolute. "Threaten me with your dark past? I'm here because I know the truth, and I do not fear your shadows."

Bruce's patience evaporated like smoke in the heavy air of that apartment. With a sudden movement, he hurled you towards the table, the impact resonating with a crash that reverberated through the walls. Your katanas slipped to the floor, leaving you defenseless. The furniture creaked under your weight, but adrenaline kept you alert, your instincts sharp.

You quickly rose, shaking your head to clear the confusion, while the anger on his face transformed into determination.

"I don't have time for your games, Kerosene," he shouted, stepping forward, ready to fight. "If you know Y/N, tell me!"

You steadied yourself, smiling defiantly as you positioned yourself, preparing for combat.

"Do you really think you'll throw away the only one who can help you?" you replied, feeling the pulse of challenge coursing through your veins. "I'm offering you a chance to know the truth, and you choose to fight. Very typical of you."

With a swift movement, he lunged at you, throwing a direct punch. You dodged, making an agile turn, but the atmosphere became a whirlwind of force and speed.

You charged at him, hitting him in the side, feeling how his tense muscles responded to your attack. It was not just a physical fight; it was a clash of wills, an explosion of repressed emotions.

"You’re an idiot if you think you can scare me!" you yelled at him while he tried to immobilize you. You twisted and managed to sidestep him, landing a blow to his jaw that made him stagger.

Bruce quickly regained his footing, his eyes blazing with fury. He advanced again, his movements precise and calculated, while you played with speed and agility.

"Stop!" he roared, his voice echoing in the enclosed space. "I just want to know where my daughter is."

"And I just want you to stop living in your hero fantasy," you replied, with a defiant laugh as you dodged another attack. "The truth hurts you, Bruce, and you prefer the fight over facing it."

The exchange of blows continued, the sound of fists colliding and the creaking of breaking furniture filling the air. The room became a battlefield, with the table as the central stage of your struggle.

Bruce, with a mix of skill and strength, cornered you against the wall, but instead of giving up, you seized the closeness. With an agile movement, you pushed him back, making him lose his balance.

"Are you going to keep this up? Destroying what’s left of this city?" you said, breathing heavily but not yielding. "Or are you going to listen to what’s really at stake?"

His eyes were now inches from yours, the fury and frustration of his search fueling the spark of the battle. Both of you were willing to fight, but deep down, you knew there was something deeper at play than just physical strength.

The battle continued, becoming increasingly intense and violent, like a whirlwind of unleashed fury. You launched at him, landing a blow that hit his chest, but Bruce responded with a punch that made you stagger; the force behind his blow was terrifying. The rage emanating from him was palpable, and with each attack, both of you took the struggle to a new level.

The apartment walls vibrated with the thud of bodies colliding and furniture being dragged. The sound of shattering glass echoed in the air as you crashed into a table, breaking it into pieces.

You got back up, a piece of wood in hand, and threw it at him. Bruce dodged it, but the fragment smashed against a lamp, exploding into a million shards. The light flickered before going out, plunging the place into an unsettling darkness.

Both of you moved like shadows through the chaos, and sweat and blood began to mix, the air filled with a metallic smell that only intensified the battle. Bruce landed a punch on your jaw, and you tasted blood in your mouth. You didn’t stop; with a cry of defiance, you responded with a series of rapid blows, each one stronger than the last.

You darted to his side, using your agility to hit him in the ribs. The impact made him stagger, but before you could capitalize on the opportunity, Bruce spun around and kneed you in the abdomen. The air escaped your lungs, and the sharp pain made you fall to your knees. However, you didn’t give up.

With renewed determination, you got up and threw a direct punch to his face, hearing the crack of his skin upon impact. Blood spurted from his lip, and the fact that you had hurt him only fueled his fury. With superhuman strength, he pushed you back, slamming you against a shelf, which gave way and collapsed on you. Books and personal items scattered across the floor, covering the place in even greater chaos.

But there was no time to stop. You rose amongst the debris, feeling the adrenaline pumping through your veins. With a leap, you charged at him again, landing a blow that left a mark on his face. Rage and pain intertwined in the air, and both of you were on the brink of madness.

The room had turned into a battlefield, with blood staining the floor and walls. The apartment’s decor, once a refuge, lay in tatters, as if Gotham itself had decided to yield to the brutality of your confrontation.

Bruce, with his determined gaze locked on you, lunged at you again. Both of you were exhausted, but the fight was a necessity, an uncontrollable impulse that kept you standing. His fists and your movements were a wild dance, and amidst the chaos, both of you knew that the outcome of this battle would not only define the present but also seal your fate.

You charged at him, landing a direct blow to his stomach, and when he bent forward, you took the chance to hit him in the face once more. Blood spilled from his nose, but he countered with a knee strike, and the impact resonated in your bones.

The fight continued with increasing ferocity, the room transforming into a wreckage. Every blow exchanged resonated like thunder, but it was the moment when Bruce landed a punch to your side that made you fall to your knees again, gasping for air. The pain was intense, but there was no time to lament; rage and frustration drove him to push onward.

Seeing the opportunity, Bruce lunged at you, and with a rough movement, he lifted you off the ground, holding you by the neck and raising you into the air. You struggled, feeling the pressure increase, the air escaping your lungs. The room blurred around you as you began to lose control.

"Tell me where Y/N is!" he shouted, his voice echoing in your mind like a refrain of desperation and fury.

You were on the brink of passing out, your eyes clouding, but amidst the confusion, you managed to maintain lucidity, though it was becoming increasingly difficult. Bruce's hands were like a yoke around your throat, and the feeling of suffocation intensified with every passing second.

The pressure was unbearable, and you fought to free your neck, to breathe, but it felt like trying to break chains of steel. Your hands struck his arm, but he wouldn’t relent, becoming more focused, more desperate.

Finally, with a titanic effort, you managed to reach your helmet, and in a twist, you pushed him back, but the pressure of his grip was too much. It was then that, in a last-ditch attempt to free yourself, the helmet slipped off your head, falling to the floor with a dull thud.

The light of the apartment filtered back into your vision, and it was at that moment that Bruce, seeing your face, stopped dead in his tracks, the expression of his fury transforming into horror.

The face before him was not just an adversary; it was a reflection of his own daughter. The reality crashed against him like lightning.

"...Y/N?"

A/N ──── I WANT TO EMPHASIZE THAT YES, WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN THE DOCTOR AND Y/N IS REAL. And yes, it's necessary; you'll understand why by the end. Furthermore, Ivy's death has always been planned. In the next chapter, a female character will appear who, I warn you, will be a victim of the Waynes, and the scene will be a bit graphic and very grotesque.

I want to add that this chapter is very, very, veeeery weak because I’m very tired, not very inspired, and dealing with other things. I’ll try to do better for the next one and bring you a chapter of better quality.

And a warning for those on the taglist: if you’re already on it, please don’t ask me again and again to add your name because I end up getting confused and repeating names.

Also, there are some that I can’t add for reasons I don’t understand.

If you requested to be on the taglist before and you're not, please ask me here or send me a message; I don’t bite.

Feel free to ask me anything if you’d like.

Take a bath!

Tag list! ◇ — @amber-content @toast-on-dandelioms @feral-childs-word @sweetconnoisseurgardener @victoria1676 @toasted-cat18 @nosyrobin @beeaskewwrites @yandere-enthusiast @telltaletoad @dhanyasri @vanessa-boo @m3vl0vesu @jellypotato66 @midnightgrimoire @cherryxxxxyoongi @plsfckmedxddy @h0neysiba @mybones537 @erikasurfer @sheepintherain @pix-stuff @yan-rai @uniquecutie-puffs @arlandvery @theblonde777 @alishii

@maicenitas @ti-girl1226 @vanilliona @chickenwings435 @thedramabrotherss @bat1212 @imnotdumbimstupif @somebodyrandom-613 @aelxr @jsprien213 @lovebug-apple @zenychwan @starsdotalk @holylonelyponyeatingmacaron @misdollface @clementinesyummy @bunbunboysworld @lunaluz432 @meowmeeps @adeptusxia0 @mettatons-number-1fan @fairygardenprincesss @nervousalpacalady @mottysith

@redkarmakai @the-rouge-robin @twismare @wizzerreblogs @beeboopneep @mistfire1999 @delfinadolphin @expctron

Inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams ' work, @i-cant-sing 's work and @klemen-tine 's work, be sure to check them out!

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