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jbbuckybarnes · 2 days ago

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2am in Europe [OP81]

— Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader —

Author's note: I felt bad doing one for Lan but not one for the Aussie idiot that I'm rooting for the most, so here ya go. Cutie patootie Osc reporting for duty (look at that gif, charged for stealing hearts, effective immediately!)

Warnings: Lots of little time jumps because I'm rusty with writing fiction. No proofreading. Unfortunately shitty formatting because I'm posting from my phone. There are two allusions made to naughty vibes but nothing is named specifically.

Prompt Used: "You woke me up at 2am to cuddle?"

You didn't really expect to end up dating the rich kid you were tutoring in German, but here you were. In the middle of the night, middle of the summer, middle of Monaco. Your sleep cycle was thoroughly fucked from keeping up with his racing schedule during early summer. Two hours past midnight you were usually fast asleep next to your personal white boy of the month, or decade. Not today.

You tossed around for a while, considered just getting your Switch out and play games until you got tired but that didn't really make sense either. Instead you tried to peel Osc's hand from under his head. His face moved to pout. You had to hold back a laugh.

"What..." one of his eyes opened the tiniest bit and you gave him the most helpless look you could.

"Can we cuddle?" He looked at his smartwatch, "You woke me up at 2am to cuddle?"

You shifted your weight, "I can't fall asleep."

He shuffled his body around a bit, "Well, fuck me, I guess you made it a shared problem now."

He held his arms open for you to curl up into.

"That sounds like an accusation." You peeked up at him.

"Well, it was. You can be glad you're cute." He brushed your hair aside.

"I have no idea how you can just sleep on demand no matter the time zone." You whispered.

"It's called working out over an hour every day." He grumbled semi-upset.

"Another accusation covered up as a fact." You pouted at him and got a soft smile back.

"Well, you never work out with me." "I don't like your narrow definition of that." You narrowed your eyes.

"My bad, you're a support role about 10 minutes of every other day." "I'll throw you out of your own bed." "With what strength?"

There was some commotion and then a thud.

"I guess I kinda deserved that one." He blinked still half asleep but also a bit shocked now sitting up on the floor next to the bed.

"Support role, pff." You turned around, arms crossed, lying down, pouting.

"Yeah nah, I'm not taking that back." You grabbed a throw pillow and aced the throw.

"My god, do I live with an assassin?" He got back into bed next to you.

"Say one more rude thing and you'll find out." Your eyebrow rose up. He knew this face, if he didn't chill out with the light bullying now, other things would be thrown, including your entire body and he wasn't in the mood to be bodyslammed at 2am before a work weekend.

"Truce?" "For what? I couldn't sleep and you're bullying me instead of being a good partner."

He blinked at you to scan how serious you meant it before grabbing you and locking you into a tight big spoon hug, "My bad."

His hands softly wandered around your body, no further comment added until he could hear your breathing slow a bit, "You're gonna be the death of me."

—

You wake up with his hands between your back and the mattress and with your hand in his hair. His sleeping face was perfectly positioned on your chest, facing you. You drew circles in his hair with your thumb, watching him sigh with a little smile. This cutie patootie had crashed into a wall at 220kph just two months prior and walked it off. His first reaction after watching you freak out about it to get it out of your system was a casual, "I mean someone has to take care of you until you get old, therefore I can't die."

It was almost infuriating how adorable this idiot was. It was also the only thing keeping you from crashing out at his stupidity some days. The sacrifices you made...

His body shifted a bit, eyes still closed, but his face moved up and got burried in your neck with another sigh of relaxation. His breathing picked up a bit before you felt a soft kiss on your neck.

"Mornin', sleep stealer." He traced his lips across your neck. "You stole your own sleep, bully."

His face came up above you, "I'll just assume I'm gonna have to profusely apologize for that for the next few days."

"Profusely..." You rolled your eyes, that man didn't know how to profusely apologize unless he genuinely fucked up badly, which had happened maybe three times in the years you've known him.

He gave you a grin, "You're cute when you have a bit of an additute."

"You're cute when you're asleep. Y'know, quiet and all that." He chuckled at that, "Do nothing, win."

"That only works when it comes to speaking, if you don't do the dishes today I'll call your mom." He sighed fake annoyed. "Yes, my majesty." Your face lit up at that.

Today was a prep day for the Monaco GP. In other words, you both were preparing to be both bored and surrounded by a lot of fake people. Not that this wasn't already a feature of his job in general.

"You look too fancy in that." "...it's the Monaco Gran Prix, how the fuck is there a too fancy?" He looked at you with an unreadable expression trying to figure out how to answer that in a diplomatic way.

"I don't like when you look that good without me next to you the entire time." He bit the inside of his cheek. You couldn't quite place if he meant that in a protective or possessive way.

"Oh...Well, I mean I'm only gonna hang out on Bre's balcony for most of the weekend anyway." You shrugged.

"And on Sunday?" He got closer, picking a hair off your dress.

"Depends on how bad you make Charles crashout on Saturday." You both smirked at that.

"If get pole and win you'll have to be my +1 for that ball they always invite the winner to." "Anything to see you in a proper suit again." He did that signature laugh that almost sounded like a scoff.

"Wear something less...that, when you're at Bre's and save this one for Sunday, yeah?" He eyed your body. Well, apparently possessive would've been the right guess earlier.

"Damn, a man trying to tell me what I can wear. How about you actually buy me something nicer for Sunday instead?"

"Ok, so, um, I fear the only thing that could top this would be a wedding dress." Your mouth was agape.

"Message received, damn!" You walked over to your closet and looked for a less intense dress for Friday and Saturday.

—

You spent your Friday a bit bored. Free Practice in Monaco was exceptionally boring unless it's your first few times seeing a race. Your man came home when you were already asleep and left before you woke up on Saturday.

On the way to Bre's you always walked past a private entrance to the paddock. This year on Saturday an "I'm watching you gesture" was interchanged with Charles as he entered there with his entourage. The man half laughing at it and half terrified of you. You had only spoken briefly twice before and you tend to come across quite confident apparently.

FP3 from the balcony was uneventful that day, but Qualifying was your little highlight. You watched Leclerc get better and better times each try, the man was keeping you on your toes because Osc was never far behind in his improvements. The last 30 seconds of Q3 felt like an eternity.

Oscar outdoes Charles by a hundredth of a second, confirming a McLaren Monaco curse for Leclerc. You were celebrating with the rest of the people in the apartment for the next hour. If he didn't win tomorrow you were personally gonna blame a race engineer for it or throw something at Charles.

—

You were once again cuddled up in bed together that evening. The fluffy throw blanket was cocooned around you and the TV playing a fireplace was on mute.

"So, I was thinking, maybe you join me tomorrow?" He broke the silence.

"I mean I planned on watching from–" "No, I mean like, actually joining me. Walking in together, watching me from the garage, all that jazz." He looked down at where you were positioned.

"Like...as someone you know or–" "As my partner."

You blinked a couple times at him, long enough for him to add, "You don't have to, I know it's a lot of...everything."

"No, no, I'd love to." You saw him exhale in relief.

"You only win Monaco for the first time once." "If you fuck it up I'll have a bigger crashout than Charles today." He laughed at that.

Before you fell asleep you mumbled, "You better put effort into your outfit for tomorrow morning." "Yes, my feisty majesty." A small kiss landed on your temple.

—

"You good?" He looked at you trying to read your face, you nodded. You had his entourage around you as you entered the paddock hand-in-hand, you in your fancy dress and him in his linen button-up looking like a proper rich kid that went to boarding school. The social media team stayed at a distance today, but taking videos and pictures nonetheless.

"I'll never get why the others never hold hands." You mumbled and heard him chuckle.

"You underestimate how many people in these circles date as business people instead of actual lovers." He squeezed your hand and you smiled at him.

"Well, hello loverboy." That got him blushing a bit.

"I see you're giving the people what they want already." You laughed at that and nodded.

Most of the VIP experience you were already used to since he'd gotten you passes on several occasions, but this time you were dragged into the garage before the race and he handed you his pair of headphones and left you around a ant colony of papaya.

You stood there watching him the way you always did whenever it was race day. Tense. Also rooting for Kimi, who you jokingly referred to as your child whenever you were talking about him to Oscar. Monaco did one thing to these men, made them go insane if they weren't first, especially Charles. You could see the red menace try to battle your man several times, to no avail. You were already ready to hear another crashout media day of everyone asking if they can't just make it a Mariokart race.

The cameras of the F1TV broadcast landed on you, hard to miss among the screens around you that weren't focused on cockpit cameras and metrics. You stayed focused on the screen with your idiot on it, only giving the broadcast screen a short glimpse to see the little "Oscar Piastri's partner" description pop up. That made your heart jump, you couldn't lie.

Of course he won, it's not like it was hard to control possible overtakes. Not too long after you were standing close to the dad of P3, Lando. A visor lifted up while heading your way, smile transfering to the eyes, cheeks squished, gloves thrown to the wayside.

You grabbed the helmet past the two stewards who you knew weren't allowed to move, "Monaco winner, you better enjoy the energy up there."

"Didn't want you to have a crashout of Charles proportions." He opened the connecting pieces under his helmet and pushed it up, almost throwing it on the floor, the balaclava following it, before grabbing your face back with both of his hands and giving you a kiss.

"Unexpected." You laughed a little perplexed. "Well, now that I can." He shrugged with his boyish signature smile before walking off to the typical next proceedings.

*1st Monaco win for my Y/N. Deserved for putting up with my work schedule.* Was written on the champagne bottle, the picture sent to you not too long after. Perhaps there was a tear in your eye about it, but who's to tell? You watched him soak in the energy of winning this fabled race on the top step of the podium. After that, all the media and the team losing their shit right after you finally had him with you again. Absolutely drenched in champagne for you don't know if it was the 2nd or 3rd time that day, looking at you with a golden retriever energy of a thousand suns.

"Go shower, we have a ball to be at later." You winked at him before he grabbed your face with both hands for a quick kiss. Your face changed at the taste of champagne, not your favorite for sure, making you both laugh.

"I already know those comments will be WILD today." You shook your head smiling at how willingly he was showing his love for you.

"They're still on the I don't have emotions narrative as if every F2 video of me doesn't exist." He shrugged before grabbing your hand, walking with you towards the building to take probably his second shower post-race.

—

"Oh boy." You muttered seeing him in his entirely new suit and he looked up at you with a slightly raised brow.

"I see what you meant about my dress." Now he had a smirk on his face while fixing his suit jacket in front of you.

"Too bad we actually have places to be." He said walking past you to grab his perfume. You giggled at that. He had a little self-satisfied smile on his face reflecting in the mirror. He held his hand out back towards you and you grabbed it before he led you to the elevator and then the car picking you up.

The entrance you two made was definitely not comfortable for either of you, too many people taking pictures, but he was used to it and you were just trusting the process. The night was spent chatting up rich people and royalty. Which, to be fair, was also not comfortable for you, but some of them were quite pleasant to talk to and you knew being polite to powerful people could always be helpful in the future. You were still looking forward to your couch nonetheless.

—

After the most people-filled day of the year so far you were both half-dead in bed at 2am, still buzzing from the day. You in one of his oversized shirts, him in the button-up shirt he had on under his suit, combined with sweatpants, high fashion. He cackled staring at his phone screen and you looked up and over at him. The phone screen he was holding towards you showed a news page Instagram post titled "Fans obsessed with double hard launch of Oscar Piastri" with images of you two from post-race and from the black tie event.

You spent the next hour scrolling social media, looking at the little compilations and reactions of his fans. They loved his little blush as you two entered the paddock, the way he almost threw his helmet on the ground before he grabbed you for the post-race kiss, the champagne dedicated to you and your shy smiles when entering the royal event.

Osc's face changed to a wide smile next to you at some point, "Huh?"

He typed something on his screen before you got a push notification for a post you were tagged in.

You opened it to a full photo series of him soaked by champagne after taking the team picture, smiling at you widely, kissing you, your reaction to the taste and your laughs right after. He captioned it "try not to smile challenges hate to see her approaching." The comments were frankly exploding at seeing Oscar proudly in love.

You smiled over at him already looking at you with a soft expression, "I love you" – "I love you too"

Masterlist is linked in my profile <3

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #papaya boys #oscar piastri x fem!reader #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 x you #op81 x y/n #oscar piastri x you #mine #f1 fanfic

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sugxto · 8 hours ago

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shared frequency - eddie x volt ⋆syn: The morning after the reset, Volt and Eddie have a conversation about your new dynamic.

⋆wc: 2.2k

⋆cw: m/m blowjobs, cum eating/swallowing, another where they’re kinda fantasizing about you while they fuck

⋆notes: takes place the morning after “brutalizer(s)” within power dynamics, but can be read as a standalone “they fucked after the reset” independent one shot. the person eddie and volt are discussing is completely gender neutral. they're referred to as "human," with they/them pronouns, and no descriptions of genitalia or features. e/v masterlist.

⋆snippet:

Eddie has to be sure. “I’d never do anything that could ever mean losing you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Eddie.” Volt’s touch is warm again, and it floods through Eddie’s circuits like a whiskey sour. “I’ve only ever known how to love you.”

Sometime, in the early morning hours, the human had slipped away from Volt and Eddie’s bed, had given them kisses on their cheeks and said they had to go, they had to make sure something had enough charge, but they’d be back soon, they promised.

It was the norm for Volt and Eddie to wake up beside each other, and never, in their years sharing existence, had either of them woken up feeling lonely - until this morning, when the feeling of only one body in his bed makes Eddie feel… off.

He shoves the thought aside, though, when Volt’s lips find his ear, and the ends of his hair spark by his ear.

“Good morning, my darling.”

Eddie fucking loves Volt’s morning voice - but hey, keep that a secret.

He hums as he rolls over, finds Volt already propped up on his elbow, leaning over him. Eddie knows that look in his eyes, that sparkle, and he cocks an eyebrow. “Someone looks happy.”

Volt smiles, runs his fingers along Eddie’s arm. “Well, we had a good night, didn’t we?��

Yeah, Eddie thinks, after Volt almost fucking died.

But instead, he says, “I remember.”

“I told you they wanted us.”

He sighs. Maybe if he closes his eyes again, sleep will come, very very fast. “You did.”

“And wasn’t it exactly what we’d hoped for?”

The downside of your partner being electricity incarnate, Eddie thinks, is that he’s always switched to on. Which wasn’t always Eddie’s favorite mode in the mornings, especially not after last night.

“It was,” he grumbles.

“We said we loved them.”

“I -” he pauses, because yeah, he can’t deny that. But they had said it first, and it seemed… right, in the moment. “Yeah, fine, we did.”

Volt’s twinkling eyes rake over his face. “Did we mean it?” As he says it, his hand comes to find Eddie’s resting on his chest, and with the touch comes a wave, a surge of indescribable warmth that flows between them, connects them not just through skin, but through their very hearts.

They’re both quiet for a moment, only breathing together, but they know. They know that when they touch, their emotions become theirs, no longer separate, like they see things through each other’s eyes.

And this warmth…

They both know what it means. It’s the same certainty they feel when they’re here, in their bed, sharing kisses and touches and breath and thoughts.

And it must be love.

Eddie feels it in Volt’s touch, in the current he shared, but he also knows that he feels it inside himself, that he reciprocates this certainly that Volt is sharing with him.

They know they don’t have to say anything, their eyes never leaving each other, understanding without words, without complications. But still, Eddie says, with the smallest smile on his lips and voice barely above a whisper, “I guess we did, didn’t we?”

He cups Volt’s face when he leans down to kiss him, and Volt’s hand on his chest climbs up, up, to tangle itself in Eddie’s hair. Eddie welcomes his little breaths, deepening the kiss and pressing his tongue inside his mouth, and it’s like he recharges at the sounds of the moan Volt makes.

When they part, it’s only enough for Volt to speak, his lips still ghosting over Eddie’s as he does. “Are you alright with that?”

Eddie’s grey eyes search white ones, and he sighs softly. “I… yes. I am. But I just…” he swallows, feels his heart thrum with excitement, contentment, want, “I can’t quite believe it.”

Volt strokes the top of Eddie’s head with his thumb, tugs slightly on his hair, and he pecks another kiss to his lips. “I can’t either, my darling.”

“I didn’t plan it.”

“I know we didn’t.”

He holds Volt’s face a little tighter, and knows his voice gets a little faster. “And this isn’t - fuck, Volt, it’s always been you -”

“And it’s always been you, Eddie -”

“You know it’s - that it’s not because -”

“I do, Eddie,” Volt says, warmly, lovingly, as his hand slips down to Eddie’s cheek. “My darling, you have nothing to worry about. We have nothing to worry about. I know I’m… protective of you.” He says it with a smirk that, in another conversation, may make Eddie roll his eyes. “But I owe you everything, and I am yours, just like you’re mine. And the human doesn’t want you, or me - they want us. Only us, and isn’t that what we’ve always wanted? To not have to be apart?”

He’s right, Eddie thinks, he usually is, the bastard. And it sparks something in Eddie’s heart that feels like he’s at full power, able to conquer anything, and it feels complete. Because he couldn’t, wouldn’t, be away from Volt. He’d let himself deplete and die before he was alone again, and the human…

They’d seen that. Not only that, but they’d helped ensure that wouldn’t happen. Showed that they would do everything they could to save both of them.

So how could Volt and Eddie do anything but love them?

But still, Eddie has to be sure. “I’d never do anything that could ever mean losing you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Eddie.” Volt’s touch is warm again, and it floods through Eddie’s circuits like a whiskey sour. “I’ve only ever known how to love you.”

Grey eyes flick to soft lips, back up to white eyes, and Eddie can only nod, only hold Volt’s buzzing skin tighter in his hands, because he’s never been good at saying it, but everyday, he knows Volt feels it. And in response, Volt kisses him again, sweet, lush kisses that are better than words, and their arms are around each other, chests pressed together.

Volt’s lips move to Eddie’s jaw, his neck, his shoulder, as Eddie’s hands find his hair, controlling the bolts with practiced touch. Between kisses on Eddie’s skin, Volt says, his smirk audible, “And it makes it easy that they’re a fantastic fuck.”

Eddie groans, and his cock makes a twitch at the memory, how hot, how wet, how needy they’d been. How they felt like they’d been made to fit around their cocks. All the gorgeous, filthy sounds they’d made, because Volt was right, and he needed to hear them again.

“Next time,” Volt teases, his tongue on his neck, and Eddie gasps when he grinds their hips together, “you have to taste them for yourself. Tell me,” another roll of his hips, another twitch of their cocks, “how was their mouth?”

Eddie tightens his hands on Volt’s hair, relishes the resulting moan, and his voice is raw when he says, “It was fucking perfect.”

He feels Volt’s chuckle in his neck, feels his cock grow against his own. “Mm. Is that so? Am I going to have some competition?”

Eddie turns his head to press his lips close to Volt’s ear, holds him still, waiting, before he responds. “You wanna give me something to compare it to?”

Faster than light, Volt is between his legs, stomach on the bed and firey, bright white eyes staring up at him, excited, hungry.

Eddie settles himself further up the bed, leans against the pillows, props himself on his elbows for the best view, but he breathes out a curse when, without warning, his cock is swallowed up by Volt’s warm, greedy mouth. He nearly loses his balance when he hits the back of his throat, and Volt makes a hum of satisfaction that vibrates around him.

God, he feels so fucking good, hot and wet and right - like home, like all he’s ever wanted, all he only ever hoped for in the nights he spent alone.

He feels Volt’s tongue expertly twist around him, follow the veins of his cock like it’s in his nature, and Eddie’s eyes flutter closed when he leans his head back, letting this warmth consume him.

Volt digs his fingers into the flesh of his thighs, and their currents hum together where they touch. His lips wrap around the head before his tongue trails down the shaft, wetting Eddie more with his spit. His breath is hot, electric, when he purrs, “Imagine if they were here too, sitting on your mouth while I took my time with you.”

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, seeing the image so clearly in his mind, reminiscing on the taste of them that he’d found in Volt’s mouth. “You, fuck, baby, just wanna show off for them.”

“Hmm, maybe I do.” Volt wraps his hand around him, strokes him up, down, and kisses the head. “Show them how good I can make you feel.”

Eddie, through heavy lidded eyes, finds Volt’s hair again, wraps it around his fist, and yanks, Volt’s resulting gasp making him smirk. “You wanna be good?”

Volt nods, limited in his movement, sparks dancing in his wide eyes.

“Then don’t take your fucking mouth off me again.” He bucks his hips up as he pulls Volt’s lips back to his cock, and they open, effortlessly, and Volt takes.

He takes Eddie entirely, takes his moans, his tight hold on his hair, all the way to the back of his throat, and swallows, and he glows at the sound Eddie makes - guttural and low, dripping with want. He preens at the “good boy, you feel so fucking good, baby” that fall from Eddie’s lips, and he ruts his hips, his aching cock, into the mattress beneath him.

Through the haze of his pleasure, Eddie notices (he always notices, Volt thinks), and he hums. “Fucks sake, you can’t get enough, can you?” His voice is wry, and it goes straight to Volt’s cock. “My cock in your mouth and still needing more?”

Volt whines around him, his hips bucking into the bed again, because yes, yes, he needed more, and Eddie knows it, knows how it makes him feel when he pulls at his hair again.

“What - fuuck - what did you say, in the office? You want me inside you w- god - while they ride you?” Eddie’s voice is mean, with just enough bite that he knows shorts the circuits in Volt’s brain. “You, you think that’d finally fucking satisfy you?”

Volt’s eyes are pleading as he grinds into the sheets, his mouth working Eddie’s cock so fast, so well, that the resulting sounds are slick, sinful, coupled by the groan of the mattress beneath Volt’s hips. His fingers singe Eddie’s skin from the death grip he’s keeping on his thighs, trying to take as much as he’s physically allowed.

Eddie’s chuckle is gruff as he adds a second hand to Volt’s hair, holding him still, and he thrusts his hips up into Volt’s hot throat, making his white eyes practically flicker. “I’m not sure it would. You’re so,” he thrusts again, “fucking,” again, “greedy.”

Yes, Volt thinks, able only to moan, to drool as Eddie fucks his mouth, give me everything, everything, Eddie.

“So you’re gonna take, fuck yes, what I give you, yeah? Gonna be good?” Eddie’s voice is hurried now, his breath labored, and Volt just knows he’s close. He hisses through his teeth, says, “Gonna fuck yourself while you take it?”

Volt hums around him, tries to tell him he can, he will, because yes, he’s so greedy, he needs it, wants it, and lets his jaw go as slack as he can while he ruts, hopelessly, into the friction of the sheets. It’s nothing compared to Eddie, any part of him - his mouth, his hands, his hole - but it’s something, and more than anything, he wants to be good for him.

Eddie’s hips are losing stability, his thrusts erratic into Volt’s mouth, and he groans, tightens his hands around white hair - he’s so close, fuck he feels so good, and he opens his eyes, finds Volt’s gaze, and -

His climax hits him like lightning, a familiar white flash behind his eyes, and he curses through his teeth as his cum fills Volt’s mouth with small twitches from his cock. Volt’s hips are pounding into the bed, chasing exactly what Eddie told him to, and it’s the soft “that’s it, you did so good,” that Eddie whispers as he swallows, that pushes Volt over the edge as well. His hips shake, his cock sensitive, as he feels the slick of his cum pool on the sheets and stick to his stomach.

Ever greedy, ever proud, Volt savors the ache in his jaw when they finally separate, and he makes a show of licking his lips when Eddie finally releases his hair, his heart swelling with love at the resulting eye roll that he knew would come.

They both sit up, limbs heavy, warm contentment in their veins, when Eddie says, in a tired voice with a curve to his lips, “Maybe having two of us to wear you out will do you good.”

Volt chuckles, and he notices his throat feeling a bit raw as he does it. “Never, darling. I’m always fully charged.”

Eddie huffs, steel eyes hiding a hint of amusement. “Don’t I fucking know it. But, ya know,” he shuffles his weight, comes to sit on his knees in front of Volt, and runs his finger down Volt’s chest until he finds the remnants of his climax stuck to his skin above white coils, meeting Volt’s gaze as he scoops some onto his fingertip, and brings it to his lips, “I think we can be up to the challenge.”

When he takes his finger out of his mouth, Volt’s lips find him, his tongue swiping into Eddie’s, hungry for him, for more, for everything, and they fall back to the ruined sheets, hands and tongues tangled around each other as tight as they can manage.

#date everything #date everything smut #eddie and volt #volt date everything #date everything x reader #eddie date everything #eddie x volt #breaker box boys

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bellasweetwriting · 3 days ago

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get to know you { clark kent x f. reader }

masterlist

part one. part two

plot: your intentions of remaining invisible keep getting interrupted by famous quarterback Clark Kent, yet maybe you don’t want him to look away

tags: (sequel to show and tell) / quarterback!clark x artsy!reader / soft clark / fluff / clark has a BIG crush / just big on the cuteness / more experienced reader / over eighteen characters

a/n: someone asked me to do a part two of show and tell and, I have to say, what a great idea. i love a strong female character and pinning boy character. oh, and excuse my mistakes, i wrote this at 4 am

Meet me at the talon, tonight — C.K.

What an odd thing to request considering you haven’t talked to Clark Kent ever since that conversation in his loft, and that was a week ago. Maybe the nervous tingles ahead of his big game had altered the chemistry in his brain and was acting all kinds of strange. Or maybe, just maybe, he wanted to talk. Which was all kinds of strange considering you didn’t want to talk to him. And you had made that abundantly clear in you guys’ previous interactions.

Clark Kent was nothing more than another football headed good-looking hunk trying to get in his coach’s good side. Just like the rest.

You looked back down at the note he had left you on top of your palette as you painted in the art room. Maybe you were completely misjudging the guy, and he just wanted to talk. Probably be friends? Probably get in your pants. Focus. Focus. Focus. What would something like Clark Kent want from you?

You made your way inside the Talon, your eyes looking around before landing on Clark’s face. He was studying, his face buried deep into the books as he stared at the pages. That’s why he had asked you to come over? To study? You looked down at the outfit you had picked out, the one that had taken you more than usual to select, before your eyes wondered to the tiny small little purse you carried, only able to fit your phone, one key, lipgloss and a pen. Clearly, farm boy had taken you by surprise.

“Didn’t know we would be studying,” you finally said as you sat by his side, showing the note you held in between your fingers. He looked up, a smile appearing on his face as he saw you. “What are we studying?”

“I have a test tomorrow morning. I have to keep my grades up if I want to stay on the team,” he explained. “I thought you were going to ignore my note, actually. That’s why I brought the books. I didn’t want to look as if I had been stood up, so I kept myself busy.”

“That little faith you have on me, farm boy?”

“Not as little as the faith you have on me, Metropolis,” he joked back. “Can I buy you a coffee?”

“Why?”

“No reason why. Just want to. Besides, you were expecting me to do so.”

“How so?”

“You didn’t bring any money nor cards,” he pointed out, as if it was obvious, calling the waitress over.

“How’d you know?”

“I just… guessed.” Clark smiled before turning to look at the waitress, asking for two large coffees with milk, and one chocolate chip cookie. “So… how’s the small life here in the town?” He asked you as the waitress walked away, his eyes keeping his attention on you. “Metropolis seems too big compared to dear old Smallville.”

“I’m glad I can walk anywhere, though,” you said. “Metropolis is just a pain, really. Being able to use yourself as your own medium of transportation has its perks. I’d still like a car, though. Otherwise I’m stuck having to wait for my brother to finish at school for me to get home.”

“I can drive you home on no-practice days,” he offered, surprising you. “It’s not a big deal, really. It’s an old truck, though, hope you don’t mind. Guess it beats up staying at school later than you should.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” You asked, softly. “You buy me coffee, which I love and appreciate, really, because I love coffee. You talk to me, you offer me rides home… why? Is there some kind of ulterior motive? I’d really like to know before I get used to the nice behavior from farm boy Clark Kent.”

“I don’t do that,” he said. “I don’t do things hoping to get something in return. I see someone with a problem, someone who wants help, and I do my best in order to help them.”

“So you see someone in need. A damsel in distress. And you help them. No other reason other than love for the art.”

“If you help others just to gain something in exchange, you aren’t leaning a hand, you’re giving them a price for your services. You aren’t helping, you’re charging.”

You smiled. “Who’d think that you have that mentality, Clark Kent?”

“It’s surprising how little you know about me, city girl,” he mocked you as your coffees arrived. He took a sip from the warm cup, turning to look at you. “What do you think of helping people?”

“I think it’s a noble cause until they start expecting it rather than thanking it. When people get used to someone saving them, they take less care of themselves.”

“That’s another way of seeing things.”

“There’s two sides of each coin, farm boy. Which side you prefer to be on? The one in the head… or the tail.”

“Do you always have a glass half-empty approach to life?”

“I could turn around that question and ask you the same.”

He put his cup down, turning his whole body in your direction. “I believe in the good in people. I think exterior circumstances are the causes of clouding of judgement.”

“I believe people make other people reveal their true selves. Someone who knows who they are don’t change, and the people that don’t, the encounter with different beings and situations are all to help you figure out who you are inside. Not all people inside are good. There are people that are, like you… others just try to be, and are awaiting the moment for our true self to come out.”

“I think you know exactly who you are,” Clark argued, smiling widely.

“Is that so?”

“It is so. I think you know you are incredibly strong when the rest needs you to be, when you think you can’t show any weakness, but deep down, you’re like the rest of us. Someone that’s just waiting for the right person so they can put down the barriers. That’s the y/n that I want to meet. The one you already know so well.”

You stared at him. Unbelievable. The way he was smiling at you, practically mocking your seriousness. He was holding that cookie he ordered, handing it to you, practically telling you he knew it was your favorite. And that there was no way he was going to let you leave this coffee shop without you knowing how much he wanted to get to know the person you hid behind your powerful shield.

“Stop,” you finally said, breaking the demanding eye contact Clark had established between you two.

“Stop what?”

“Whatever you’re trying to accomplish. You already know what brought me here, Clark. And you already know why I want to just… finish high school, get my diploma, and move on.”

“Maybe rejecting your past and everything that involves it is what’s keeping you from moving forward. Don’t you think if you accept it and decide to learn from it, maybe moving on… wouldn’t be so hard?”

You stared at his eyes before grabbing the cookie he was holding, your fingers softly gracing his as you did. The way you breathing stopped as you touched Clark and felt his warmth was embarrassing to say the least, and you could swear he noticed how your breathing pattern abruptly changed, as it was pretty noticeable.

You looked up, his eyes meeting yours. Could you keep denying it? It’s not like every time he walks past you in the hallways, you don’t turn around to look at him. It’s not like you’ve found yourself drawing his face in the back of your sketchbook, involuntarily, without noticing it was him you were drawing. It’s not as if the whole idea of someone so well mannered, so good-hearted, didn’t call for your attention. And let’s not mention those icy blue eyes, a color you have only seen mixed in your palette when you paint snow.

You look away, taking a bite from the cookie.

• • •

You look at yourself in the mirror. You run your fingers through the fabric of your shirt, one far more revealing and attention seeker than the ones you’ve been wearing for the past weeks in Smallville High. One you always wore in Metropolis. You stare into your eyes in that small locker mirror. You left the glasses at home, you dusted off the makeup bag, you felt more like yourself than ever before. You were finally staring at the face of the girl you’ve been staring at for the past few years, the one you’ve been so eager to try and high. The one that committed the mistakes you regret, yet the one that pulled through… and was given a second chance.

You closed the locker, the face of your brother startling you. He was smiling at you, making you want to hide your face again under your hair.

“That’s the y/n I remember,” your brother said, mocking you. “What brought you back?”

“Chocolate chip cookies,” you said, keeping the rest to yourself. “So are you supposed to win today or are you going to lose like always?”

“I love how little faith you have in me. Keeps me grounded.”

You chuckled, walking side by side with your brother through the hallway. The attention you’ve been trying to avoid was coming up, people staring at you as you walked past. You suddenly feel as if you had changed skins, and you regret it. But you kept walking, pushing through.

“Everything okay?”

That’s when you see him. Clark Kent, taking books from his lockers. That farm boy taller than normal, handsome as a magazine guy, strong and firm, acting as if he wasn’t the best looking person in the entire school.

“Yeah, I’ll catch you later,” you finally said to your brother, approaching Clark, but your brother stopped you, making you turn around. “What?”

“The quarterback? Again?” He asked, scoffing. “I thought you had learned your lesson. Is that why the change of look?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“It’s never what I think, is it? Then false drug tests appear on my desk.” He pointed at you with his finger. “Watch out.” And he walked away, leaving you with a very clear warning.

One, of course, for the first time, you weren’t going to listen.

You approached Clark with a smile. The guy looked up from the locker, his eyes opening widely once he saw you.

“Hey, woah… is this who you’ve been hiding? I barely recognized you.”

“Let’s just say, growing back into your own skin can be challenging.” You smiled, widely, for the first time in a while. “You said you want to get to know me.”

He closed his locker, closing in the distance between you two. “I did say that.”

“I’m showing my work in an art gallery opening in Metropolis tonight. It’s silly. My old art teacher it’s organizing it. Would you like to come with me? There’s great food and bad music. It’s fun.”

“Tonight? I have… I can’t.” Your smile slowly faded. “I have the game, I can’t miss the game.”

“Oh right, of course. You’re… well, you’re right. Good luck!” This was so awkward, you wanted to hide. “Uhm, I hope you guys win? Break a leg? Or not! Do not break a leg, of course, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to…” You smack your lips shut, giving him a tiny smile. “I better go. Good luck on your game.”

And without letting him say another word, you walked away quickly, not looking back. Your cheeks flushing red as you tried to be as small as you could.

• • •

The paintings that hung on the walls showed your past, the one you’ve been trying to avoid the past few weeks. The mistakes, the regrets.

But they also showed the good behind all of them. What motivated you, what kept you painting until three in the morning under the light of the street lights that enter through your bedroom window, in that so small apartment you and your brother shared not so long ago.

Your eyes wandered around your work. People come and congratulate you, they smile, they pat you on the back. They read the small description your professor made of your work, since you didn’t submit one. They say the future that awaits you couldn’t be brighter.

You chuckled, you smiled, even if it was a smile with no real meaning. But everyone could see it in your eyes.

Your sad eyes.

The people began to leave, the waitresses began to collect the food that was left, the dishes and glasses they had to clean. The music was turned off.

You were still standing there. Your burgundy dress hitting the floor as you had removed your silver heels that you held in your fingers. Your purse hanging from your hand, your hair let loose from the bun you had imprisoned it all night. You were staring at your painting, the last one you made in that apartment, your saddest work yet.

The picture portrayed a tired girl on her messy bed, staring at the ceiling. What you felt, what made you go into hiding, what changed your life, plastered on the canvas for everyone to see. And you couldn’t look away. Everyone had left, but you couldn’t move.

“You’re very talented.”

You turned to the sound of his voice.

There, in the doorframe of the gallery, wearing a cheap suit jacket, a badly buttoned white shirt, and black pants, was Clark Kent.

You smiled.

“Did you win?” He nodded. “How did you get here so fast?”

“I ran?” He joked, making you laugh. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t be,” you said, smiling. “I’m glad you came.”

#clark kent x f. reader #clark kent reader #clark kent fanfic #clark kent au #clark kent smallville #smallville clark kent #clark kent #clark kent x reader #smallville x reader #smallville au #smallville fanfic #smallville #lana lang #lois lane #superman #fanfic #fanfiction #female reader

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hometoursandotherstuff · 5 hours ago

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What does $20.065m get you in New York City, NY? Well, you can get a completely modernized 1930, 6 level residence., with rooftop deck, 4bds, 5ba, 4,200sqft, and an 83ft (yes, 83ft high) climbing wall. (It comes w/harnesses.) It's been on the market for 282 days, b/c who the hell has $20m? Also, it was last sold for only $3.75m in 2013.

There is a courtyard between buildings where you can keep your motorbikes and things. There's also a shower and a place to hold firewood.

And, then you go thru the locked gate to the completely remodeled kitchen, which is the hub of the home.

The counters and backsplash are marble.

On the 2nd fl. there is a 23ft high living room with 2 fireplaces, (an upper and a lower), framed by large planks of wood.

The log storage in the front of the room is supposed to be an art piece that changes as the wood is used and replaced.

Note the registers on the ledges b/c it must be hard to heat and cool this tall space.

There's a small sunroom thru the sliding doors. Ivy grows on the large lattice on most floors (I guess it's still growing).

Landings between floors are meant to be flex options that can be used for a home office, music room, etc.

This is a small bedroom that has sliders to a terrace.

And, this is a larger secondary bedroom.

One of the baths looks brand new.

This landing area is a little library with built-in shelving.

The primary bedroom features a built-in shelf w/a small fireplace, sliders to the rooftop deck, and clear glass doors to the ensuite.

The ensuite isn't large, but it's nice.

Here's the rooftop deck.

Another bedroom that's a good size has its own ensuite.

In the courtyard there's the colossal 83ft tall rock climbing wall. You can see the safety pulleys.

There's also a home gym with a glass ceiling.

Then, on the lowest level there's a family room with a fireplace.

This looks like a combination sauna/steam room and there's also a feature wall with the original stone foundation.

And, there's also what looks to be a bar for storing copious bottles of liquor.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/16-Minetta-Ln-New-York-NY-10012/31498156_zpid/

#mansions NYC #houses NYC #houses tours #home tour

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diabolicalevil · 7 hours ago

Note

Riffing on the Primarch break up headcanons and the marrying someone else headcanons, what if the beloveds marriage to someone else was aragnged? Maid of Honor slips a note explaining the clusterfuck to a member of the legion, who passes it to the Primarch. How do you HC the ensuing debacle goes down?

Primarchs finding out you were forced into an arranged marriage

gn!reader

ohh I hadn't even though about it while writing the og post lol. they're not too different from the orginal I suppose

@thethronezone incase you're interested in the part 2

cont. of this post

Warnings: none

Lion El'johnson: Yeah he would still challenge them to a duel just, like, To the Death I guess. He has a protector kink I'd say? While this situation is horrible and sad for both of you he does get off a wee bit on the fact he's rescuing you. As soon as you're back in his "custody" he's locking you in the princess tower.

Fulgrim: Mobilises his legion to sabotage the wedding as he goes in to profess his love and air out the situation VERY publicly. rip fulgrim u would've loved telenovellas

Perturabo: Annoyingly smug. he Sucks guys. Oh you were forced into this? Yeah I bet you were. cause you're just a sad, helpless, weak little stupid baseline, aren't you? Privately threatens your fiance and the situation magically resolves.

Jaghatai Khan: Yeah I don't think the nature of the marriage would stop him from stealing/eloping/kidnapping you. Whatever you wanna call it again ur gawn.

Leman Russ: The Space Wolves would DEFINITELY sabotage the wedding in this case. Explodes ur fiancé's head right on the stage sorrryyy.

Rogal Dorn: He'll object but also has 500 contingency plans in case you don't want to leave, can't leave, hostage situation, fiance is powerful war wise, if the carpets are an ugly colour etc etc he's thought it all through.

Konrad Curze: KILL MAIM BURN KILL MAIM BURN KILL MAIM BURN

Sanguinius: Air strikes! Doesn't bother professing his love publicly, it's not for the ears of your fiance or anyone who went along with this. Soft launches a proposal as he's giving a speech to his legion about another successful attack.

Ferrus Manus: Still angry, but also disgusted. He ultimately believes in the good of humanity but considers this a sick and disgusting thing to do. He let's some of his idiot sons out of their stupid cage as extra intimidation and just, walks out the venue with you. lol

Angron: KILL MAIM BURN but not from him, surprisingly. He too is letting his idiots off their leash with the promise of whoever retrieves the fiancé's head gets a pat on the shoulder from him. This is a Lie. He picks you up and fucks off.

Roboute Guilliman: Frantic but livid. He's going through all the correct procedures of "rescuing" you and calling off the wedding but he is barely containing the urge to rip your fiancé's lung from his chest. Well, he wouldn't do it in the moment but mysteriously he turned up dead? huh, weird.

Mortarion: Annoying Motherfucker lmao. A part of him believes this isn't true and that you actually wanted this. In his self loathing he would miss the chance to act in the moment and gave to *rectify it later. *read: kill with poison

Magnus: mind control, its very effective.

Horus Lupercal: Objects but he's less Cunt about it. He's just fucking angry and is rapidly approaching with intent to kill as he half confesses half threatens everyone present.

Lorgar Aurelian: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (occasionally turns to your fiance and condemns him to hell) (the word bearers are gonna fucking GET him)

Vulkan: He'd never kill a human for no valid reason but he's honestly debating whether or not this counts as a valid reason. He objects and proposes very romantically and frankly, who's gonna stop a man that size from just walking off with you?

Corvus Corax: Grits his teeth and let's it go through. He doesn't want you to have the association as his romantic interest because it would endanger you. But mysteriously your husband turns up dead oh no you'll just have to come under the protection of his legion because there's a killer out there.

Alpharius & Omegon: sabotaged the wedding with their weird minion sons And they are going to kill your husband. Maybe take his place maybe not but he won't stay alive

okkii hopefully this was different enough from the last one and entertaining

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undead-moth · 1 day ago

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I guess 2 Old 2 Guard was about exactly what I expected the whole time. I can’t say it disappointed me because I never had my hopes very high. It wasn’t as good as the first because it fucked with the formula in ways it didn’t need to and didn’t say anything new about any of the characters. But I can’t say I hated it. It was good to see them in action again.

Anyway.

The bad (booo):

- The unnecessary retcon of how their healing works (shit definitely just grew back if it was lost in the first movie)

- The name Discord (“Sounds ominous.” No actually it sounds fucking stupid)

- learning more about the nature of their immortality (the whole first and last immortal birthmark thing in this movie was annoying for me. I liked it better when their immortality was a complete mystery. I liked it better when they had no control over it. Thematically I think it works better too.)

- The birthmark itself (it wasn’t needed for the whole first and last plot point thing and just draws attention to the fact that Nile didn’t have it in the first movie)

- There’s another immortal Andy didn’t tell anybody about (yet he supposedly saved her when Quynh was put in the Iron Maiden. Joe and Nicky never like…asked about that? Why was Tuah there? Why was he cool with Discord knowing about him but not Quynh, Joe and Nicky?)

- Contradicting the dream mechanic (In the first movie, they ALL dream of Nile’s first death and explain to her they dream about the immortals they haven’t met. Only Nile canonly dreamed about Quynh that we know of, but Joe, Nicky and Andy all met Quynh and I believe it was a generally accepted theory that Booker probably did too he just didn’t say so because it would crush Andy. Now for some reason the dream mechanic only applies when it’s convenient.)

- Andy’s not the first immortal and somehow how none of them knew this (This yet again contradicts the dream mechanic. It’s also just like, you know, it was already unrealistic when we thought it was Andy, but now we’re supposed to believe that an immortal even older than Andy was white and blue-eyed?)

- The extremely convenient immortality-transfer plot point that was very conspicuously introduced

- Characters using English when there’s no way they’d use it, and even when there’s no way they’d be understood (When Quynh shows up at the nuclear facility in Indonesia, she yells “Drop your weapons!” to a bunch of people who are heard speaking a different language and realistically don’t speak English)

- We barely get to see Booker reunite with the others before he dies. (This might be more personal preference than any other complaint, but we got to see how Booker interacted with Andy when he knew he’d lost his immortality and would die. I wanted to see him having a knowing moment with Joe and Nicky too, and get an idea about how he feels about this being the end of his time with them. Same with Nile really - instead he only interacts with her long enough to get cut. It makes it seem like Andy is the only person who mattered to him and that’s shitty.)

- Nile is conveniently out of commission for basically the entire climax of the movie. (They were literally like “What do we do with Nile? If Nile’s there to help then none of this other shit happens…uh…let’s just break all her bones, I guess.” It’s also just annoying how competent she already is, fighting toe-to-toe with people centuries older than her. Not doing any of the reckless ill-thought-out shit she did in the first.)

- Really cruel cliffhanger. (In the first movie, they specifically ended it on a satisfying enough note that if they didn’t get a sequel, it wouldn’t matter. They did this because they knew a sequel wasn’t guaranteed. For some reason, they were like, “Let’s not do that this time, even though it’s even less likely to get a sequel this time. And while we’re at it, let’s make it the worst possible scenario to not see resolved.” And then oh look at that. It’s not getting a sequel. Christ ffs.)

The good (yaaay):

- Seeing Nile be close to Andy and caring about her so much

- Andy being like “I haven’t seen art this bad in centuries”

- Joe being bad at lying to Nicky

- Nicky being more committed to the exile than Joe

- Tuah being like “How old are you?” and Copley being like “I’m 43” and Tuah being like “Impressive.” (I know it was played off as a joke but there was a part of me that was like actually I’m interpreting this as him being 100% serious because when Tuah was young, before he died for the first time, the average life expectancy was probably like 25 and he didn’t make it to 43 in his first life and he probably still thinks in those terms to a certain extent, and maybe liked having the opportunity to remind Copley what amazing times he lives in.)

- Booker showing up and being like “Come on, guys, are you still doing the silent treatment thing?” when “silent treatment thing” refers to an attempted hundred year exile lmaoooo

- how Quynh words how Andy’s abandonment makes her feel (I loved everything she said. It all felt so real and human and was worded so beautifully, especially in her note)

- Andy and Quynh fighting

- Joe and Nicky making up and having their tender moment. I also like that Joe canonly fears that they might die. Obviously that was present in the first movie too, but the different immortals’ points of view on death was thematically more relevant in this movie and I like that Joe wants them both to keep living. They’re not sick of life yet. They still want time to be together and love each other.

- I knew that Quynh was supposed to come back wanting revenge on humanity and I sort of dreaded that this movie might get really cartoonishly villainous about it and it wasn’t like that at all. It felt very grounded to me, and I was relieved that at no point did it seem like either the narrative or anybody else blamed Quynh

- The juxtaposition between Booker’s take on the meaning of time and Discord’s.

- Andy and Quynh being tender at the end.

(- Edit: And Nicky calls Joe Yusuf!!!)

So I guess, all in all, it was okay. The first movie was better but it always is. Hoped for better, feared worse. Still love the characters. 🤷‍♀️

#tog spoilers #the old guard spoilers #the old guard 2

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shieldofiron · 2 days ago

Text

Vibe Check Ch 22

A Long Day's Journey Into Fight (Part 1)

Also on Ao3 here and tumblr here

Note: This fic is moving from M to E rating

“Everyone, let’s hear it for your hostess snack cake, as we like to call him: our party chair, Steve Harrington,” Argyle takes the microphone almost as soon as Steve lets go, gesturing to him and nudging him towards the cheering crowd. “Ain’t he cute?”

“Very cute,” Eden deadpans into the mic, sending a little prickle up Billy’s spine when she makes eye contact with him.

Billy grabs at Steve, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders as a few people reach out to pat Steve on the back.

“You got this just to show off,” Billy whisper-yells in Steve’s ear, eyeing the rented karaoke machine as the attendant sets up the next song.

Steve rears back a little, cheeks pink. “No, fuck off, loser.”

But he leans infinitesimally into Billy’s touch, turning so he can see Argyle shimmy to the opening strains of Brandy and Monica’s “The Boy is Mine.”

“We should do one.” Billy says.

He’s been trying to get Steve alone all night but Steve is a ball of anxious energy, flitting from one room to the next, like he has to babysit every little thing.

Eden and Argyle mesh their voices perfectly, shuffling closer on the old shag carpeted platform where the TV normally sits.

Steve flinches slightly, keeping his eyes on Eden and whistling when she nails the first little vocal run. He doesn’t answer but at least he doesn’t move away. He stays with Billy, letting the press of the small crowd ebb them a little closer.

Tonight’s the night. Billy’s decided, been thinking about it for days. They’re going to revel in the start of semester activities, try whatever high octane punch Patrick and Chrissy have rigged up in the kitchen, maybe take a crack at karaoke and see if it loosens Steve up a bit.

And then Billy’s going to find a way to sneak off, get Steve all to himself and then….

That’s about as far as he’s gotten, but he’s sure that he’ll come up with something in the moment.

Because he’s pretty sure, like 98% sure, that Steve wants him back. He may not love Billy in quite the same way, but Billy thinks that Steve feels something after that weird moment playing Mortal Kombat. The kiss, all the things that had happened between them, had hit him then, like a smack in the face.

If he could just figure out a way to ask without asking. He’d tried a dozen ways of asking in his head, but he’s still not sure how to do it without giving himself away.

Because Steve will just look at him, his brown eyes so sad lately, and it feels like he’s adding yet another thing to Steve’s plate.

But Carver seemed so adamant, Munson too, when Billy got up the courage to ask.

“You all aren’t fucking? Seriously? But you’re so… and he’s so…” Munson had been flabbergasted.

Billy tucked Steve even closer into his side and quietly agreed. Steve was so. So kind, so good, so fucking right for Billy.

Which is why it’s extra important to get it right. He only has one shot.

“Stevie, wanna-” Billy swallows, “get a drink and head to the basement?”

“Yeah, probably, I should check how they’re doing down there. We gotta keep an eye out for the pledges, you know they’re lightweights.” Steve looks down at the ground.

Billy snorts. “No way, Henderson seems so cool and collected.”

Steve shoves at him weakly. “Lay off my little brother. At least Henderson isn’t dating my sister.”

“Step-sister,” Billy rolls his eyes.

“Oh yeah, that makes it not weird.” Steve shakes his head and turns back to Argyle and Eden, grinning and hooting when they get closer to each other in mock anger.

“But it does though,” Billy leans in closer, brushes his nose against Steve’s ear. “You wouldn’t get it, King Steve.”

Steve shrugs, “guess not, because if I saw Sinclair taking my sister upstairs….”

“What? What the fuck-” Billy whips his head towards the stairs as if he can even see it from there, the empty solo cup in his hand crumpling in his grip.

Steve cackles, shuffling away a little and rubbing the back of his neck. “Gotcha!”

Billy rolls his eyes. “Very funny. Want a drink, King Steve?”

Steve bobs his head a little, his eyes going sad and soft again. “‘Kay. Oh, I saw Munson and C-Carver trying to get a pool game going. Think we can take them?”

“Hell yeah, man!” Billy grins. Pool is at least in its own room in the basement, so it was one step closer to getting Steve alone.

Plus he could definitely tell Munson and Carver to get lost and they’d go. They were experiencing a sort of nauseating honeymoon phase that he was almost upset with himself for bringing on. He’d been wondering at night if Carver was laying it on extra thick for his benefit.

But apparently they planned to formally come out as a couple at the next house meeting, so Billy had resigned himself to doubling up on earplugs and headphones for a little bit.

Steve claps for Argyle and Eden and then fully wriggles out of Billy’s grip to head back towards the kitchen.

The house is utterly packed, and the kitchen is the powerhouse of the cell, so it takes them quite a bit to make their way there.

Where Patrick and Chrissy are holding court with several of the basketball team, circled around the main kitchen island, which is littered with bottles and cups.

Pat raises his glass when they approach, “Hey! Missed you guys! What’d you get up to while we were gone?”

“Not that much.” Steve replies smoothly.

“Please tell me there were at least some hot chicks around campus, man. Otherwise staying over break is just sad.” Andy, one of the basketball guys who isn’t in a frat leans closer to Steve as he says it.

Steve shrugs, flashing a slightly annoyed look Andy’s way. “We had fun. Went out a few times.”

Billy leans into Steve’s side. “What’d you do over break, Andy?”

He snags a few beers from an ice bucket while the guy yammers on about his hometown.

“Oh, that’s right!” Steve smacks his forehead.

“Oh my god, yeah,” Billy smacks his too, shaking his head.

“We forgot we don’t give a shit.” Steve smirks, opening his bottle on the side of the table.

Andy sneers. “Tools.”

“Takes one to know one, Andy,” Billy shrugs.

They turn away together just as Chrissy starts talking about her course load, ignoring Andy entirely.

“What an asshole,” Steve mutters as they muscle through the crowd.

“Yeah, seriously. Probably spent the whole break mesmerized by his high school basketball trophies.” Billy shakes his head.

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Cali State champs.” Steve’s whisper is close enough to have Billy shivering, pushed into his skin by the crowds. It recalled those moments in the mornings when they lay in bed together, unwilling to speak too loudly and break the morning’s spell.

The thought has his chest filling with butterflies. He feels like he did when they first met, when anything had him looking for signs that Steve could possibly return his feelings. Before he’d given in, and committed to trying to be okay as friends.

But now Steve had kissed him. Steve had danced with him and cried with him and changed so much this year, maybe they could change too.

And so for the first time in a long time Billy felt hopeful. And it was throwing him off his game.

He busies himself fumbling with his beer, opening it with his belt buckle after fucking with it for a moment.

He has to press closer to Steve to avoid losing him in the crowd, giving in to the urge to lean into Steve’s back, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders in a way he’s hoping still comes off as friendly.

He has no idea if Steve would want them to be public. They hadn’t really discussed if Steve was wanting to come out or not. But after seeing Carver and Munson’s dance of confused feelings, Billy would do anything Steve wanted. As long as they were on the same page. If Billy has a chance, he’s not gonna let coming out get in their way, even if it makes him sweat.

Steve is more than worth it.

“Great job, party chair,” Billy growls in Steve’s ear.

Steve tips his chin sarcastically toward Sinclair and Billy’s sister who are cozied up on the stairs talking. “Great job, rush chair.” There’s an edge to Steve’s voice that’s hard to read, but it sends frissions of nerves through Billy’s stomach.

Billy shoots Max a look and she gives him the finger without ever looking away from Sinclair.

“She talks a big game, but she totally came here because I did,” Billy sidesteps the implication in Steve’s tone. It’s not like he set them up. Max is gutted that she’s interested in a frat boy at all, let alone one who plays basketball.

The basement still stinks, but the group dancing to Megan Thee Stallion doesn’t seem to mind so much. They trip down the stairs together because Billy’s unwilling to let Steve go.

“Fuckin’ asshole,” Steve mumbles.

Billy can only cackle, inwardly scrambling to rethink his plan. Steve seems weird, and maybe it’s too loud down here. Maybe he should wait until they’re upstairs alone. Or tomorrow morning.

He watches Steve take a long drink off his beer, his long neck dipping as he swallows. Steve turns a little, and it’s hard to see because the basement is mostly dark. But Billy could swear their eyes meet. He can feel it, an electric line running from Steve’s eyes, and hitting every vein in Billy’s body on the way to his heart. The warm, sweet shampoo smell of Steven Alessandro Harrington swirls around him and presses the world back.

Steve turns away quickly, and the line severs, leaving Billy to cling tighter as Steve leads them around the stairs and towards the pool table.

Carver and Munson already have a game set up with a couple of girls that Billy vaguely recognizes from some other party. One of the girls is leaning into Munson’s space, but he only has eyes for Carver bending over the pool table.

Billy can only hope that means they might take their nocturnal activities to the basement tonight. If things go well, he would prefer not having to talk to Steve over the sounds of Carver getting detailed like a car. And that goes double if he’s nursing a broken heart.

“We’ll play winners,” Billy offers casually when they come in, letting Steve lead him to the broken down couch at the back of the room. They flop into it, nearly on top of each other, before Steve straightens up and shoves Billy away, his cheeks pink. He darts his eyes over to Carver and Munson and then stares into his beer.

The girl leaning into Munson scowls, rolling her dark lined eyes. “We could still win.”

Munson gives her a sly look. “Wanna bet on it?”

Billy rolls his eyes at Steve. “We ought to put out a campus PSA about playing games with the two of them.”

“Seriously,” Steve smirks, clinking glasses with Billy and darting his eyes over to Carver. “They’re sharks, girls.”

“What does that mean?” The other girl asks. She has an actual air of innocence around her that instantly makes Billy frown a little. She looks more like she should be in the library than at a frat party.

“Winners find a way to win,” Carver says, laser focused on lining up his shot. “We find a way.”

“Yeah we do.” Munson says, smacking Carver’s ass lightly and earning an indignant squawk.

“You guys are cute.” The girl by Munson says. She’s short, with long messy black hair and rich brown skin, dressed head to toe in black. It takes a second to click, but he recognizes her, from one of Munson’s productions. She’d transformed on stage, her hair pulled back from her face, and she’d melted into her role as Juliet, so much that Billy didn’t recognize her now.

And she’s looking right through the fourth wall at him. And Steve.

“Us?” Steve lets out this weird mean laugh. “No way, we’re just friends.”

Billy deflates a little inside, but he tries to rally. It’s an offhanded comment, one they’ve made many times before.

The girl shrugs. “If you say so.”

“Kali, can you hand me my big stick.” The innocent girl asks.

Kali sighs. “It’s a cue, Jane.”

“My big cue then?” The girl, Jane, asks expectantly.

Kali hands it over and Jane lines herself up quickly and splits, sinking two balls neatly in opposite corners.

“You were saying, about sharks?” Kali says it with a grin.

Billy whistles. “Damn, Carver, you may have met your match.”

“Save the shit talking for when you’re playing, Billy.” Carver grumbles.

He and Munson start to quietly bicker about some dumb thing, the amount of chalk Munson is using on his cue or something. It’s their general tactic whenever it looks like they might lose.

And even though Billy’s stomach is sinking for a moment he and Steve are ignored, like he wanted. He wills the rest of the party to just fade away.

Because it’s awkward. It’s been so awkward between them lately. And maybe this is a bad idea, maybe…

He looks at Steve. Steve looks at him. Steve glances down at his lips. That eclectic line opens up again, setting Billy on fire. This could be real. It could be. He believes again.

“You know… we are.” Billy says.

“What?” Steve looks more pissed off than anything.

It takes Billy a moment for his brain to catch up with what the fuck his mouth even meant by that.

Billy looks at his feet, scuffing the toe of his sneakers against a crack in the concrete floor.

“We could be… uh… cute together.” Billy says, and instantly cringes. His brain keeps trying to think of a way to bail, but his stupid mouth keeps talking. “I mean, you did kiss me. Not that that has to mean anything if you’re not interested. At all, like… that’s cool-”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Steve’s voice is laced with more poison than the jungle juice upstairs.

Billy hazards a glance and his whole heart lurches at Steve’s expression. He looks angry, but also disappointed somehow. Like he’s disgusted in Billy for even thinking such a thing. He glances over at Carver and Munson, shaking his head, and Billy lets his eyes drop.

“I meant… it’s not a big deal, I was just seeing-”

“What?” Steve’s voice is low and sharp, and it lances through the music and makes the rest of the world fuzzy. Leaves Billy all alone. “Like I could be your dirty little secret?”

And that fucking hurts, because Billy told him that in confidence, told him why he couldn’t come out.

“What?” Billy says weakly. The room feels like it’s spinning, like he’s been hit on the pool table, like he’s spinning down into the hole.

“Maybe that’s how you and…” Steve stops himself, and his hands twitch at the corner of Billy’s eye. “I’ll n-never do that with you, Billy. I want someone who’s just for me… God, you just don’t get it, do you?”

Billy gets it. Someone who’s… better. Not scared. Not alone, or fucked up, rotten inside. Steve deserves that, and Billy hates himself for ever believing he didn’t.

Billy can’t look up from that crack on the floor, can’t tear his eyes away. He’s staring so hard it burns.

How could he have gotten this so wrong, so fucked that Steve is angry with him. He’d psyched himself up for days that a no wouldn’t be so bad. It would be awkward, but they could still be friends, surely?

He looks back up and Steve is looking away, his expression blank.

“Yeah. I get it. I understand, Stevie. I’m sorry.” All of the noise in Billy’s head begins to crowd in, and he can feel, just barely, the cool glass in his hand. “I need another.”

He feels himself get up from the couch and leave, but it feels like it's happening to someone else, someone in a galaxy far, far away.

He can’t bear to go to his room, surrounded by everything that reminds him of Steve, but he makes his way upstairs on autopilot and closes the door on the first bedroom that’s unlocked. He locks it, sinking to the floor in the dark. It still feels like it’s happening to someone else; like the short breaths and sinking feeling without him are him putting on a performance of being upset. That it isn’t real.

After all, didn’t he know that Steve didn't feel the same way? He knew this whole time, so why is he reacting this way?

But as the tears start to fall uncontrollably, he feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s a comforting hand, and that’s what makes him really fall apart. He’s such an idiot, thinking deep down that it was ever possible. And now that that last shred of hope has been ripped away, he has nothing left.

Someone flips on the light, but he can barely see through the tears, and there’s another hand on his shoulder and another hovering by his face.

“Billy? You ok?” The sound is coming from too far away, it seems impossible to reach.

He swipes at his face, blinking at Heather’s big brown eyes. Oh. Big brown eyes.

“Steve.” He says. Wails, really, but he’s acting tough about it.

“What? What happened? Is he hurt? I knew this house was a death trap, there’s no way it’s meant to hold this many people.” Robin comes into view, shaking Billy’s shoulder kind of hard. “What happened?”

“Babe, chill. One freaker-outer at a time,” Heather says.

That slams Billy back into his body in an instant. “Were you two hooking up?”

Heather turns pink and her eyes narrow in annoyance. “Stay on topic please. What happened to Steve?”

“He hates me.” Billy really doesn’t wail. It’s a very manly tone of voice, very in command.

“I mean, he’s not your biggest fan right now, but hate feels like a strong word.” Robin says it matter of factly, flopping to the floor in front of him. Billy notes with not very much interest that her shirt is inside out and Heather’s missing one hoop earring. Great. Everyone’s getting together with their big gay crush but him. Perfect.

His chest tightens even more, and it feels like the air in his lungs is too heavy and leaden to be used for words, but he does his best.

“He’s mad at me? What did I do? I hadn’t even asked him yet before the party,” Billy whispers.

“Asked him what?” Robin ignores his questions, because of course she does.

“Asked him to fuckin’ be with me,” Billy sucks in a breath, anger coming hot and deep. Of course Robin knows what he doesn’t and of course Steve won’t tell him he’s mad. He never tells Billy anything anymore. “But now I guess he’s mad at me for something I don’t even fuckin’ know about.

“You asked him to be with you when you have a boyfriend? Gross!” Robin cries.

Heather smacks his shoulder. “Billy, what the hell?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, what the fuck are you talking about?” Billy gapes at Robin.

“Fine, not boyfriend ‘guy you’re talking to,’ whatever. Steve wouldn’t be ok with that, he deserves more than that,” Robin scowls at him.

“I’m not talking to anyone? I’ve been in love with Steve practically since we met. I don’t even fucking know what you’re talking about.” Billy hisses.

Robin does her best impression of a goldfish.

“Oh, Billy. I’m sorry.” Heather rubs his shoulder and he shrugs her off, miffed. “I knew you wanted him.”

“Yeah, you and everyone apparently.” Billy leans too far back, smacking his head against the door so hard he winces.

The room is quiet for a long moment, and Billy can’t even muster up the energy to feel guilty for his outburst. He just feels tired and wrung out, and he’s pretty sure this is Argyle’s room so he could probably just sleep on the bed, and Eden and Argyle would just get in with him.

“He said you were kissing Carver in the library.” Robin mutters quietly. “And you know, you wanted to break up him and his boyfriend so… he thought you… did that?”

Billy closes his eyes and lets the tears fall. “I actually got him back with his boyfriend.”

“So you didn’t kiss Jason?” Robin ventures.

“No. Ew. Does he just think I’m a cheater or some shit? He really does hate me.” Billy closes his eyes.

“No! He doesn’t! He just-” Robin’s sentence withers on the vine.

“Ok, clearly something got misunderstood,” Heather says cautiously.

“You really asked him out?” Robin asks.

“Yeah. I did. But he barely let me try, because I guess he thinks I would ask him to do that in front of the boyfriend I don’t even have-” Billy cuts himself off when Robin smacks his shoulder.

“Snap out of it.” She orders.

He swings his head down lazily and looks at her. “Please tell me you washed your hands before this.”

“We didn’t get that far before we were rudely interrupted. But listen, we need to find Steve like right now.” Robin says urgently.

“What’s the point?” Billy rubs his eyes roughly, realizing he must have dropped his beer at some point because his hands are empty, and he could really use another drink.

“Well the point is… I don’t want to blow up his spot, but Steve cried in my bed for two days because he thought you were getting with Jason Carver-”

“But that doesn’t make any sense-” Billy protests.

“Ok, so explain that to Steve, because he thinks his friend who he is in love with- I hope you’re listening to that- was tonguing down with someone else.” Robin takes both his shoulders and shakes. “We need to find him before-”

“He runs away.” Billy finishes the sentence with her, and rises to his feet. “Shit.”

“Ok, why would he run away? I’m lost.” Heather stands with him, frowning.

“Because he’s freaking out!” Robin and Billy say again simultaneously.

“Ok, don’t like when you do that. But I’m really glad you’ll finally be with Steve.” Heather rolls his eyes. “You too really deserve each other, he’s probably crying on the floor to your sister and Lucas.”

Not even a comment about his sister can stop Billy’s heart from swelling with hope so fast it physically hurts. “Ok… ok. You’re serious, right?”

“Cross my heart, swear on Heather.” Robin raises a hand to her chest. “He’s been trying to get over you all year. And then under you. And then over you. He thought he had no shot.”

That hurts. Because no one has a chance but Steve, and he hates that even for a second Steve felt a fraction of what he felt a minute ago.

There’s a little anger missed in there too, about the confusion. But that’s something he can work out with Steve, later. Ideally in bed.

“Fuck, we gotta get to him.” Billy sucks in a breath and opens the door.

“So this is a we thing?” Heather says, and glances at Robin who’s standing. “Oh, it’s a we thing. Ok.”

Billy doesn’t take any more time to turn back, because he’s already wasted too long. He rushes down the steps, asking Sinclair on the way if he’s seen Steve. He can hear Robin calling upstairs and checking rooms, which was probably smarter than his tactic of pushing into a giant crowd.

He checks the kitchen, but he doesn’t see Steve anywhere. Actually, a lot of the brothers are missing, and he can only hope those aren’t related.

He’s checking the karaoke room when Robin appears at his elbow and tugs him towards the stairs to the basement.

“Heather found him, hurry,” She pulls him so hard he almost falls into a group of women taking jello shots.

He follows, his head swimming from the emotional whiplash and the weed lacing the air.

It takes them a minute to make their way down to the basement because for some reason every asshole is standing right outside the basement completely still talking.

But as they shove their way down, he starts to see why.

It’s Steve, being held back by Argyle and Byers while the two girls they met earlier and Steve’s ex Nancy Wheeler of all people, are holding back Munson and Carver.

“You’re crazy, man,” Carver is holding what looks like a busted nose, while he shoves against that Kali girl. To her credit, she doesn’t seem to be having trouble.

“Fuck you,” Steve spits.

“Well, at least he didn’t run away,” Heather says helpfully.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #shieldofiron #harringrove #Harringrove #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Billy x Steve #Steve x Billy #my writing #frat boy au #vibe check au harringrove

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viviansturns · 5 hours ago

Text

𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒔 - part 1

... you find yourself falling for your university pen pal

cw (whole series): flirting, fluff, very sad angst

September 10th, 2024

Hi Matt, Or do you go by matthew?? I kinda like matt better so i'm sticking with that.

I don’t really know how to start this. I haven’t written an actual letter since I was like, 8, and it was addressed to the Tooth Fairy. I also wrote one to my family when I tried running away.

Anyway, I’m y/n. I’m in my first year at Oxford, and I signed up for this pen pal thing because I thought it would make me have purpose and also practice my penmanship. I honestly just want to yap and vent into letters for some rando to respond.

I’m majoring in psychology which is already horrifying. Also fun fact I like drawing people I see on the subway. Or just drawing people in general, that’s always fun. I do pottery, I play volleyball, and I have an cat named sally. I’m also super into photography and polaroids and such.

I don’t know what you look like, but I’ll stereotype you when you get back to me and tell me your major!

I hope this program’s mailing system is quick. Anyways bye!

—y/n

P.S. Are we allowed to swear? Cause i’m itching to.

_______________

September 21th, 2024

Hey Y/N,

Matt’s good, matthew is for my teachers and that’s it. Also the mail shipping takes like a week, that's crazy.

I haven’t written a letter like this since forever, so this feels different and way personal than text messages or whatever.

I’m in second year at UCLA, studying Art History. Mostly trying to figure out why people painted the weird stuff they did, and hoping my own sketches don’t look like a toddler’s.

Pottery sounds impressive. I can’t even handle a moldable eraser I fear… anyways I’m super into drawing people too so it’s crazy that we both draw ppl on the subway!

I don’t have a cat, but I’m definitely a cat person. Low-key hoping you’ll send a Polaroid of Sally sometime. Please please please.

I like that you want to vent in letters. Same here. No pressure though, I just wanna talk to people about things.

Anyways I’m looking forward to hearing more about Sally and everything else you want to share.

—Matt

P.S. Here's a sketch of a cat if that maybe convinces you to send me a pic…

ALL CREDITS TO John Nixon ON PINTEREST

_______________

October 2th, 2024

Hi Matt,

You win. Sally and I took a Polaroid just for you. I tried to get her to pose but she’s deeply uncooperative and bit my thumb halfway through. Ignore that my face is in it, being right up against my face is the only way she’ll ever cooperate.

I put it in a little sleeve thing so it doesn’t get smudged. I expect a thank you note (or another sketch).

Also your cat sketch was like so good. Like, I showed my roommate and she said, “Tell your pen pal I’d buy that for 12 bucks at a thrift store.” Which is her version of a compliment, I think.

Psychology is still horrifying. Did you know there's a phenomenon called "the illusion of explanatory depth" where you think you understand something until you try to explain it and realize you know nothing? That’s literally this degree.

Anyway. My week’s been kind of weird. I dropped my coffee on a guy’s shoe and then he asked me out right after. I guess that's a good sign?

This letter’s kind of all over the place but whatever, you said no pressure, and I’m holding you to that.

Hope UCLA is treating you nice. Tell me more about your art history class! Also, I’m kinda sad that the shipping takes so long. I guess the distance from oxford to LA is really far but still…

—Y/N

P.S. You never answered if we’re allowed to swear. I’m going to assume yes and just censor myself creatively until confirmed.

_______________

October 13th, 2024

Y/N,

Sally looks like she owns your apartment and you just pay rent. Also I thought she was a full grown cat, but she's a kitten! Also I owe you a thank you for the Polaroid, sally is so cute. You look nice too. Or at least the corner of your face

The sketch I sent was just me messing around. I hadn't drawn anything outside of class in a while. It felt good, actually. Thanks for giving me a reason, I might just keep doodling shit for fun.

This week’s been foggy. I’ve been spending more time in the library than I want to admit, mostly pretending to read while I look at the pages. There's a painting in one of my textbooks of a woman crying in the dark, but you can’t see her tears. Just her hands. I keep coming back to it.

You said you draw strangers. Ever think about what they’d say if they saw the versions of themselves you made? Do you make them kinder looking?

—Matt

P.S. I wouldn't mind any other pictures of you or Sally or something.

_______________

October 23rd, 2024

Matt,

Thanks! You’re so sweet, I'm sure you look nice too.

And yeah, I wonder about that sometimes, how people would react if they knew I’d sketched them mid-yawn or while picking at their sleeves on the subway. I don’t make them better or worse. I try to draw them like they are, but there’s probably bias in my work. I think it’s hard not to romanticize people when you’re just observing.

Thanks for the sketch again and the new one. Just so you know, I’m cutting them out to put it above my desk. I also want to get back into sketching, if you wanna keep doing that back n forth.

Oxford’s been grey in that relentless, boring kind of way. I bought an overpriced croissant and ate it on the steps outside the psych building like I was in a film. It was stale.

What about you? You never really told me what made you choose Art History. Or drawing. Why that, and not something practical?

Also, if you really want a photo of my full face, say it straight next time. I’m not scared.

—y/n

P.S. That was a threat.

P. P. S. I'm just kidding, you’re cute lol

_______________

November 3rd, 2024

Y/N,

Fine. I want a photo of your full face. Direct enough? I kinda want to draw if you think that's okay.

As for Art History, my mom wanted me to study something “useful.” I picked this to spite her at first. Then I stayed because it stopped feeling like spite and started feeling like mine. I like looking at something that once mattered to someone else and figuring out why. That includes faces, sometimes.

I don’t know. The world’s already loud enough. Drawing is the only thing that makes it quiet. It’s not even about being good at it. Just having a place to put things.

Lately, it’s been harder to concentrate in class. Everyone’s always talking like they’re performing for each other, and I keep zoning out. It’s exhausting, pretending I care when most days I’m just trying to keep from going under.

I’ve started sketching you. Just based off that Polaroid. Not in a weird way. I just liked the way the light hit your cheek. I’m really into sketching people if you haven’t noticed…

Send the real photo. I want to get it right. Or at least try.

—Matt

P. S. I’m out of things to P. S. write back soon I guess?

_______________

November 14th, 2024

Matt,

Umm I’ll have you know I always write back as fast as possible. mail just takes ages dude. Also, I attached the photo. Let me know if it’s okay, I tried to make it a not awkward picture.

It’s weird, letting someone draw you. There’s something about it that feels like handing over a version of yourself and hoping they don’t miss the parts that matter. But I trust you. I don’t know why.

Psych’s been eating me alive. We’re doing a unit on perception. How two people can look at the same thing and see it completely differently. It made me think about you. But I feel like you pay attention.

And I get it, it’s also hard for me to pay attention in class. Everything just moves so slow.

Also, I sat in that terrible jazz café again. The muffins haven’t improved. But there’s something comforting about knowing exactly what you’re going to get. Even if it’s underwhelming. I really like consistency if you couldn’t tell. Maybe that’s why I like this whole pen pals thing

Draw me how you see me. I won’t be mad if it’s not perfect.

—Y/N

P. S. Ugh. I’m tired.

[Photo here, could not find a good one, mb! Also i wanna be inclusive so just imagine ur face here.]

_______________

November 28th, 2024

Y/N,

The photo is way better than the Polaroid. You’re smiling in it, which surprised me for some reason. Not in a bad way. Just didn’t expect it.

I finished the sketch. It’s folded into this letter. I kept thinking I was done and then going back in to fix the curve of your mouth. You smile a little unevenly. That’s not an insult. It made the whole thing feel more alive.

Most of the time when I draw people, it’s like cataloging expressions. With you, it felt more like remembering. That sounds too serious, but I don’t know how else to say it.

I’ve been kind of stuck lately. Everything’s loud and too much and pointless in that vague way where nothing is technically wrong. But drawing you just steadied everything for a bit.

Anyway. Hope it looks like you. Hope you don’t hate it.

—Matt

P. S. You don’t have to, but I’m always willing to draw more.

P. S. P.S. I know the pen pals program is pausing over the break, but I’ll miss hearing from you. Write to me anyway?

ALL CREDITS TO @Chommang ON YOUTUBE AND INSTAGRAM.

_______________

December 10th, 2024

Matt,

Duh, I'll write during the break. Even if it’s just one letter because of this stupid shipping time.

I didn’t hate the sketch. I love it, actually. I stared at it longer than I should admit. You made me look calmer than I usually feel. Softer, maybe. It’s strange, seeing yourself through someone else’s hands. But I don’t know, it made me feel understood.

It’s literally unfair the amount that you’re able to capture facial expressions. I showed it to Sally and she immediately sat on it, so take that as her formal approval.

I’ve been thinking a lot about perception lately. Not just in the psych-class way, but in the real-world way. Like, how you can know someone for years and never see them. Or never know someone for a couple months and see them.

Oxford’s gotten cold. The kind of cold that makes your bones feel hollow. But I like the way the fog rolls in across the river in the mornings. Makes everything feel unreal in a good way.

Anyway, you said you’re always willing to draw more. So I’m holding you to that.

—Y/N

P.S. I made you a playlist. You don’t get a say in the matter. It’s one of those spotify codes that you can scan.

_______________

December 22nd, 2024

Y/N,

I’m glad you liked it. I think I was trying to draw how you made me feel, not just how you looked. Hope that doesn’t sound weird.

I’d be lying if I said I haven’t reread your last letter a few times. That part about perception—I keep circling back to it. How some people never see you right, and others just... do. I think that’s rare.

Campus is quiet now. Everyone’s gone or going. I stayed behind for a few more days before heading home. Something about the silence feels easier to manage when it’s earned.

You mentioned fog. I haven’t seen real fog in months. Just Los Angeles haze that smells like old traffic. But the sky’s been orange lately, and it’s the kind of color that makes you want to say something even if there’s no one around.

I’m working through the playlist. Trying to really pay attention to the lyrics.

—Matt

P.S. I hope you’re having a good christmas break. If we were in the same city, I’d take you out for hot chocolate at the Italian cafe. Or maybe a better place, I don’t know oxford.

ALL CREDITS TO Mike Phillips ON PINTEREST

_______________

January 3rd, 2025

Matt,

You got your wish. I’m writing from my childhood bedroom. I’m surrounded by a shit ton of glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. Sally is sulking in my suitcase because she loves my parents and knows I’m leaving again soon..

Break has been fine. Way stranger than I’d like, like time folds differently here. Everyone I used to know feels just a little unfamiliar, like they’ve all been redrawn slightly wrong. Or maybe I’m the one who shifted. I don’t know.

Your letters make more sense than most conversations I’ve had since I got back. That’s not a sad thing. I think it just means I trust you in a way that’s starting to feel pretty permanent. I guess I’d say my relationship with my parents is complicated. I’m not about to trauma dump on you, but things are just weird around them.

Appreciate these lovely sketches, that’s a great santa/elf?

—Y/N

P.S. You were right about smiling. It is harder to fake than it looks.

ALL CREDITS TO Elliana884 ON PINTEREST

idkkk how i feel about this...i tried being creative and now i have this.

*THESE POSTS ARE SCHEDULED AS I AM AWAY CURRENTLY, TO FIND OTHER PARTS YOU NEED TO SCROLL DOWN ON MY BLOG*

#the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo

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valeelavvale · 1 day ago

Text

Drive - Chapter 3

chapters: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

featuring: Fernando Alonso / ofc

requested: by @sunnytkm23

"Hi. Could you do a Fernando Alonso one where practically is Right person at the wrong time, in which reader and Fernando dated during his first years at Renault and his first WDC title and during his second title, she wanted bigger things like getting married and starting a family with him, but he didn't want to at that time and they separated and each one moved on with their lives, even though they had friends in common and they commented on how one was going for the other and so Fernando finds out that she got married years after their breakup and her rise to fame as a model and she knows about his single life and the reputation he had with women and years later she is a renowned model but divorced and with 2-year-old girl which the father doesn't care and in not in the picture and they meet again after unknowingly, Fernando sees her in Monaco with her child going to market and discovers that she separated and moved there with her child and little by little the two reconnect and he invites her to dinner and admits that he regrets not having fought for both of them and that he still loves her and gives her what she wanted most and she decides to give him a second chance and he practically adopts her daughter as his own."

notes: Third chapter, late 2024, Fernando and Ana’s lives reconnect. They both live in Monte Carlo and, for some reason, even though everything is different now, it feels like something has never really changed. I think there will be one more chapter or two at most, enjoy!

genre: romance, angst

word count: 2194

Late November 2024

Ana was in the small atelier she had rented in the center of Monte Carlo, in a narrow street not far from the main road. The walls had been painted, the furniture assembled, she was very proud of herself and of what she was building. On her own, without anyone telling her that it’s one thing to get photographed and another to actually make clothes real.

She felt her phone vibrate, put down the dress she was about to hang, and picked it up.

Fernando: Hey, how’s the atelier going?

Ana smiled. They had messaged a few times, brief exchanges while he was away for a GP, a little chat one evening after she’d put Rebecca to bed and told him about the shop she’d rented.

Ana snapped a photo and sent it to him.

Ana: Painted, shelves ready, clothes still need organizing but I love it!

Fernando: Wow... Looks like a big deal!

Fernando: Congrats, you’ve always had a ton of ideas in your head.

Ana: Time to get them out of my head, I guess.

Fernando: Are you free for a drink one of these nights?

Ana: Let me check with the babysitter and we’ll pick a date.

Ana paused with the phone in her hand and sighed.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea.

Or maybe it was, maybe he just wanted to see an old familiar face and have a drink.

But really, what did she have to lose?

On the other end, Fernando smiled too. He had finally found the courage to ask, even if maybe it felt strange, even if maybe he shouldn't have.

But, why shouldn’t he, exactly?

It was 7 p.m. on a foggy Monday in early December when Ana stepped out of the house and saw the Aston Martin parked just outside her gate.

She felt like a teenager.

And she hadn’t been one for a long time.

But when he got out of the car to meet her with a smile, she remembered what it was like to wake up every morning next to that smile.

He was handsome.

They laughed almost immediately, talking about something funny that had happened to Fernando during his last trip. Then they reminisced about a few old friends they'd lost touch with, until Fernando parked in front of a skyscraper by the sea.

“Hi,” she greeted him “What a gloomy evening,” she chuckled, and he nodded, shrugging.

“I know a place where the fog won’t be a problem,” he smiled, and they got in the car.

“They’ve got a rooftop that might even break through the fog,” he smiled as she followed him into the glass elevator that took them up.

“I’m not used to places like this anymore,” she laughed as they were shown to their table.

They sat down and ordered.

“You used to like them,” he said.

“I still do,” she agreed quickly. “But Reb doesn’t, not so much,” she joked. “And between work, her, and… everything else, I don’t really have time to go out much,” she admitted. “Joyce, the babysitter, is an angel, but... Reb is all mine,” she laughed.

“Not her father’s?” Fernando asked, surprised.

“Her father is in Tokyo with his twenty-five-year-old yoga instructor,” she said, shaking her head. “We made an agreement, I have full custody, and he stops by if he can,” she explained, like she was talking about someone else’s life.

“He doesn’t want to see his daughter?” Fernando asked.

“He says I was the one who wanted her, so I can handle it,” she replied. “I do seem to recall him being in bed with me that night, but maybe I’m mistaken,” she joked.

“Asshole…” Fernando muttered, with his usual bluntness. “Sorry…”

“I’ve said much worse,” she smiled, taking a sip of the drink they’d just been served.

Then one drink became two, then three, and eventually some food, without ever leaving the table, without ever stopping the conversation, the laughter, the rediscovery of a person who was completely different from fifteen years ago… but maybe not that different at all.

“I can’t believe you still have that bike,” she laughed, finishing her drink.

“I’m attached to it,” he said, pointing at her with mock menace.

“We almost got killed on that thing, Fer,” she teased.

“But it was a great vacation,” he pointed out with a grin.

“We were in love, everything would’ve seemed great,” she said, letting the silence fall for a moment.

“Does it feel strange being here together?” he asked, tilting his head.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” she laughed. “Yeah… a little, I’d say so. But I thought it would feel way weirder, and instead… it doesn’t.”

“Yeah…” he smiled, watching her.

“I hate to be the Cinderella of the night, but I need to go relieve the babysitter,” Ana said with a smile.

They got up, and less than twenty minutes later, they were in front of her house again. The fog had lifted. It was cold, but not too much.

“Since it didn’t feel weird, can we do it again?” Fernando asked, walking her to the door.

“Only if you find another fancy rooftop like that, where I haven’t been in ages, and that makes a killer Negroni,” she joked, laughing. “I’d like that, Fer,” she added after a pause. “I didn’t think I’d missed talking to you so much,” she admitted.

“We haven’t really talked in a long time…” he said.

“Since well before we broke up, I’d say,” Ana replied, looking at him.

“Speaking of…”

“No…” she smiled. “...it’s been nearly twenty years. I don’t think explanations are needed, you know? It was another life, another age. It’s okay,” she said sincerely.

“I’ll call you then,” Fernando smiled.

“Whenever you want,” she said, leaning in for a quick hug before disappearing behind the door.

Ana Lucia Beatrìz.

The one he’d fallen for in less than a night, when he first met her at a friend’s birthday.

The one who disappeared.

The one who was back again.

They’d agreed to see each other again, a dinner, somewhere she’d like. That’s what Fernando had said. And Ana couldn’t wait.

She was already dressed when Joyce called to say she was in bed with a fever and couldn’t come, so the evening seemed to be over before it even began.

“Moooommm, can you put on The Little Mermaid?” Rebecca’s voice called from the living room, and Ana picked up the remote, putting on her daughter’s favorite movie. Then she walked into the kitchen, grabbed her phone, and called him.

“Hey, guapa,” he greeted her without thinking, just like he used to.

“Hi, campeòn,” she laughed.

“What’s going on?” he asked. Maybe he was in the car, maybe not.

“I have to postpone dinner tonight, no babysitter, and it’s too late to call any of her friends’ parents,” she explained. “I’m sorry, Fer…”

“What if I bring a pizza?” he asked. “Or anything Rebecca wants…” he offered.

He knew it was a bold self-invitation, but he wanted to see her.

She was caught off guard for a moment.

“I think Reb would love pizza,” she smiled after a pause.

“So we can save the night like that, right? No need to cancel…” he said in that low, steady voice he’d always had.

“We’ll be waiting,” she said, unable to hide a huge smile.

“Waiting for who?” Rebecca asked, catching everything, even what she wasn’t supposed to.

“A friend of mommy’s. We met him at the coffee shop once,” Ana replied.

“The one you said you had to make a dress for?” she asked, tilting her head. She wasn’t even four yet, her birthday was the following week, but she knew everything.

“Him…” Ana smiled.

“Did you make the dress?” the little one asked.

“Not yet!” Ana replied, as the girl got distracted again by The Little Mermaid.

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Ana buzzed him in from downstairs, and a few minutes later, Fernando stepped out of the elevator with way too many pizzas in his arms.

“Fer, there’s three of us,” she laughed. “Actually, two and a quarter,” she joked.

“I couldn’t decide. If I disappointed the little one, I was done for,” he said sincerely, smiling at her.

He stepped inside, and Rebecca immediately stood in front of him.

“Mommy didn’t make the dress, but you brought pizza,” she said, looking up at him.

“Would’ve been worse if Mommy would have made the dress and but I did not brought pizza, don’t you think?” he said, crouching down as she stared at him, not fully understanding what he meant.

“I’ll give you a dress. Now let’s eat pizza,” she declared, hopping off toward the dining room.

“Sorry,” Ana said, leading him to the kitchen. “I know this wasn’t the plan…”

“Hey,” he cut her off, “I just scored a dress, sounds perfect to me,” he laughed.

“Do you have a tree?” Rebecca asked, climbing onto a chair and sitting in front of him, surprising him with a question he wasn’t quite sure how to answer.

“At home, you mean?” he asked, glancing playfully at Ana as she placed pizza on the plates.

“Yeah, or wherever. I need a tree,” the girl replied seriously.

“May I ask why you need a tree?” Ana asked as she handed her the plate.

“Because I told Mia I’d give her a squirrel for her birthday and I need a tree to find a squirrel,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Fernando burst out laughing. “Well, I don’t have one at home, but there are some where I work,” he replied, sounding semi-serious.

“I need it by tomorrow,” Rebecca declared, biting into her pizza. “Can you bring one?” she added, mouth full.

“I’ll see what I can do” Fernando laughed.

“Sure you don’t have any squirrels?” Ana asked, sitting down next to him.

“Hmm, tough question,” he smiled. “I’ll check the garage later,” he chuckled.

Rebecca didn’t stop talking for a second, she was a whirlwind of energy, but Fernando didn’t seem to mind. He answered patiently, with lots of humor.

After the second slice, the little girl jumped off her chair, saying she wanted to finish watching The Little Mermaid. But first, she stood still near Fernando and stared at him.

“You’re funny,” she said before disappearing into the living room.

“Okay, I don’t want to alarm you, but she doesn’t like anyone,” Ana laughed, shaking her head. “And I think no one has ever paid her this much attention.”

“She’s a riot. I’m totally in love, just so you know, she’s like a crazy little squirrel that never stops talking,” Fernando said, sipping his beer.

“Yeah, well… she’s like that at 7 a.m. too,” Ana said, not quite as amused.

“She’s incredible, really. You’re raising a wonder,” he said. “And on your own…”

Ana shrugged. “I didn’t really have another option. And I didn’t want her growing up with a dad who thought she was a mistake,” she said honestly.

“That’s not how you pictured your family…” he said quietly.

“No… well… maybe I didn’t even know what I wanted, back then,” she laughed. “You always knew exactly what you wanted,” she smiled.

“Hmm…” he sighed, taking another sip. “I thought I did. But maybe it was just the easier road.”

“Fer, you are the champion you wanted to be,” she said sincerely.

“Yeah… but at what cost? I’m 43 and…”

“…you’re at your ex’s place with pizza and a three-year-old?” she teased.

“That, honestly, feels like the best part and one of the least shitty, most beautiful nights I’ve had in a long time,” he admitted.

She went quiet for a moment. “What are we doing?” she asked, looking at him.

“Here? Tonight?” he asked, and she nodded.

“Tonight, and two weeks ago, and…” she gestured vaguely.

“I was hoping I’d get to kiss you,” he said, with disarming simplicity. She was taken aback, surprised.

“But I don’t know if the chatty squirrel and The Little Mermaid are on my side,” he added, and Ana burst out laughing, realizing she hadn’t laughed like that in a while.

“I mean it. Under the Sea in the background isn’t so bad, and neither is Reb singing, but I’m afraid she could burst in any second asking for ice cream and…”

“Damn, you still taste like vanilla…” he whispered, deepening the kiss that had started as a joke but instantly became something else.

“...Alonso?” she interrupted, and he looked at her.

“Kiss me,” she said, making him smile before he leaned in to do exactly that.

“Still like it?” she asked with a smile.

“Drives me crazy, guapa…” he murmured, just before they heard Rebecca’s quick steps as she popped into the kitchen.

“Ice cream?” she asked with a sly smile, hopping toward them.

Ana laughed, her cheeks flushed, eyes flustered.

“Ice cream!” she replied, getting up.

“Hey Reb…” Fernando started, turning to the little girl. “…about those squirrels, are you sure you only need one?” he asked, as the girl began listing all the friends she wanted to give one to.

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questions-about-blorbos · 2 days ago

Note

Hi! So, I haven't watched Squid Game S3 yet and so far I've been scrolling down the spoilers but I get you didn't like it. Do you recommend watching it anyway or is it a waste of time?

On another note, I love your blog, keep up the good work <3

Thank you. The issue I have with the third season is that a lot of characters were written poorly in my opinion, a lot of other fans also think the same. Characters’ actions and motivations also felt forced and contradictory to who they were in the previous season(s).

Another thing to add, and this is just my opinion, they gave too much screen time and unnecessary storylines to side characters while the main characters were overshadowed in the season that, according to how Netflix promoted the season, were supposed to be about them.

But I’ve also heard from casual viewers who aren’t as emotionally invested in the show or the characters that they enjoyed the season overall. So I guess it’s still enjoyable for casual viewers and maybe even some fans. But yeah, unfortunately, most fans—myself included—believe it could have been better and less rushed.

#admins answer #squid game season 3 #squid game #netflix #squid game s3 #squid game 2025 #seong gihun #player 456 #seong gi hun

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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 1 day ago

Text

✦✧✦ Chapter 6 ✦✧✦

On The Family Tree, A Tiny Robin Perches On A Tight Rope

Richard 'Dick' Grayson

Warning this part contains: Cringey shit from me reading regress manwha, Made up and mixed non-cannon timelines of DC, Change of Ages, Cursing, Death and slight dark theme, Cannon Deaths (falling), Manipulative actions and thoughts, Murderous thoughts and actions, This is like slow-burn but in a platonic yandere sense?, MC has hidden anger to everyone (the lvl to each just differ), MC is Evil in the sense of making sure no one can hurt them first, has obsessive mindset to create the perfect family and a very special guest at the end.

UNEDITED AND NOT PROOFREAD YET

Note: FINE I'm using YN but it's still They/Them, MC is now 14 yrs old yey! and yes they are the oldest in the family, finally we're now with the other members of the family, this mostly will be MC pov and the families pov in the end, a bit like what I did with Bruce and MC in 4&5 but since my mind is brain dead this will be in longass parts because I like to torture myself, Longer parts for the main and one-shot with the rest.

MASTERLIST pages 5 , 6......

Now Playing ↻◁ ||▷↺ mazie - dumb dumb ılıılıılılılıılıılı

✦✧✦✧✦

Only small years have gone by yet everything seems to settle down easily for me and Bruce or my Dad now I guess.

So easy that I can curl my tiny fingers around him while making sure he thinks I'm still sitting nicely in his palm, just simply doing what normal Father and Child do with an addition of Alfred becoming my sort of non-biological Grandfather to me, it's so easy to pretend around them, like lying to a kid.

Schooling was a breeze, I just have to keep up appearances and all, besides it's easy to fool children and using those dimwitted snotty rich kids under my control.

I have a few more months to prepare until one of the official kids practically pulls up hand in hand with Bruce along with the adoption papers but that's alright-

After all a perfect family should be complete with little brothers and sisters running around.

Richard Grayson or Dick came first as he always do in every reset, the very first common variable in my problem, a character that's always prominent in the story, the first ever boy wonder and the prodigy of Batman but now that I have an opportunity to change things? I'll make an even better scrip just for him.

He was the Eldest even though I came first, He was the most reliable and the one everyone looked up to while I was the unreliable and useless one, He was the first child Bruce took in because he felt sorry for him and not the one force to him in one day like me.

Oh woe to me and my miserable, sad and pathetic life.

It all began after Bruce asked me to watch the traveling Haly's Circus along with me, again something that never happened before my other life even when some of those I begged for him to bring me but now he's the one who asked for me if part of the reason I said yes, the rest? is probably to maintain the typical Wayne Family font as well as making a mini fundraiser for entertainments in Gotham, a tiny addition from me, I had to make great impressions to stay at in the good graces of this city, making sure my hard work will pay off in the end and to prevent any more issues that could cost a new fracture in this reset.

If Batman has contingency plans then so do I

Many of the Richer families came as well, surprisingly I finally see the Drake family together for once with the little Tim standing between his two parents who was a bit eager to have a word with Bruce, I almost forgot that Tim was also watching the flying graysons to back then.

I stare at the adults talking as I stand with another new cane on my right since I out grew the first one and a large cotton candy on the other hand before noticing the little boy on my side looking at me with stars in his eyes, a weird look coming from him since I rarely met him this early, not that he even looked at me with those eyes before.

'A tiny outline of Robin's mask was drawn on his face before quickly glitching away'

"Y-... you're THE YN Wayne..oh my god-". He gushed as I raised an eyebrow showing a bit of a surprise before concealing it and sending him a fake smile, cute kid not the usual -overdose caffeine and prioritizes more case files and more 'interesting' people- boy.

"Hello, nice to meet you". I said and held the cotton candy that I haven't taken a bite out of to him as I perfectly timed a flashed of the paparazzi's camera aimed at us.

He looked at the treat in his hands and look up afterwards but I was already walking away with Bruce entering the largest tent where the show would begin.

I watched as a large boyish smile grow in his face before hiding my frown to him for being gullible and easy to fool nature.

'A bit weak and dependent, not yet maybe a few more years and see if he comes out perfect'

During the show, I didn't bother pretending to be at awe, The people were amazing and living up to their name being the best traveling circus in the world even when I knew what's really behind this amazing facade.

Seeing a person on the open flap of the tent, I observe them sending signals to someone near the trapeze equipment before disappearing while I felt someone eyeing me and Bruce from the other bleachers on the other side before turning towards the figures of the Graysons as he opens a pocket watch with engravings of an owl.

'The court of owls will be the perpetrators? or was it a collaboration this time?' I wondered the possibilities since I don't see the familiar face of Tony Zucco and his usual lackeys anywhere before paying attention to the flame breathing stunt in front of me.

It would have been easy to prevent this death but I know the circumstances will change and end up ruining my odds, so the death of the Flying Graysons did infact happened and there's nothing more I can do.

Watching the two lovers plumenting to the ground, their body smacking straight in the center, a haunting pose of where the fingers of the two barely reached one another but failed since Death is a poetic bitch.

I pick out the tiny form of the younger grayson among the ruckus of people screaming and running away, he tried pushing against the other members of the circus so he can reach his parents but was held back to prevent him from getting more traumatize.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn to see Bruce behind me then clocked the direction on where I was staring and watch Dick crying in the ringmaster's arms, a familiar look in his eyes as the scene reminds him of something that happened to him years ago.

'A pity really' Their voiced echoed in my head as they stand next to the man with the owl pocket watch, they seem to like them for some reason.

As we were escorted outside, Bruce did a quick check if I was alright but I simply coaxed him to the little Robin's direction using his poor weeping heart to have the Big Bat swipe the kid away from that Owl.

While Bruce comforts him, I stand amongst the sea of panicking people just observing them until I become aware of someone approaching me, someone who finally answered my suspicion.

"Seems like your Father took a liking to a different child". He said as he laid a gloved hand on my shoulder.

I chuckled at his feeble attempt to manipulate me before looking up at him with a tiny smile on my face.

"Well to me it looks like my dad just has too much compassion in his heart, Mister". I clarified instead as I take his hand off me, turning to stare and giving him a fake smile with something sinister just hiding behind my teeth.

"It would be best if you don't show your face anywhere near me for now, Great Uncle Jacob". Stating with a kind voice while hiding a threat underneath my words.

"You wouldn't want Bruce connecting you to the Graysons family death after what happened to your first stunt now, would you?" I taunt him from what happened in the early years of Bruce becoming batman and his failure as I get a scowl in return.

'Grumpy Gruncle' They snicker behind his legs, poking the dangling pocket watch.

He huffs and sneer at me before quickly walking away and disappear within the masses of people surrounding the area.

'Shouldn't have done that' They said as they lean on my back as they watch the owl flying away quietly into the night.

"Sorry I had to, he killed me 5 times and 2 of those were just dumb luck, so dumb it just pisses me off". Muttering I stab the ground with the end of my cane and twist the grass under in irritation.

✦✧✦✧✦

In the end Dick was put under Bruce's care till he can manage or in the back of Bruce mind finally get the adoption papers ready and officiate everything, really wanted to know which one would win first if I left it alone.

But I guess things just won't go my way this time. Dick was, how do I say this? quite different from who he was before or technically what he'll be in the future, Dick was the most joyful and charasmatic person you'll ever met but this kid?

He's angsty and a bomb ready to blow up with the mere mention of his parents and I understand him, I do and I knew once he became Robin it won't be long till he slowly become the Dick Grayson I knew from my past resets.

No matter, I just have to make sure this one falls right into place, a little editing in the scrip won't cause too much of a problem.

I remembered when he first arrived at the manor I was helping Alfred make dinner for the four of us - Alfred included because I want a proper family and that includes him eating with us even if it's just for dinner-, Bruce was introducing me and Alfred to him went he just stayed quiet and walks off after the older man was told to lead him to his new bedroom, Bruce then was wearing a frustrated look making me snicker as I stir the pot.

"It's not funny kid". He grumbles before taking a seat on one of the stools on the island counter as I watch him think on the side.

"He's just sad Dad give him a break you can't really blame him" Implying on why he stormed off as I scoop up a tiny portion of the soup with the ladel before tasting it.

"I wanted to kill everyone when Ma died" I added as I spot him tensing up at my violent confession but stayed quiet, turns out I finally know the feeling of how spoiled kids get when they're own parents don't reprimand them about their bad behavior.

I wonder how far can I get away

Few more weeks he kept being moody and snappy to Bruce occasionally to Alfred as well making me annoyed at his attitude and slight fear that if I don't act now there won't be a Dick Grayson Robin in this reset.

'A perfect brother will never act like this'

When Bruce had to leave for a sudden mission outside of Gotham either by himself or maybe with another hero who's been nagging him as of late, I took the chance to plan something.

Finding him in one of the manor's gym room as he climbs and do tricks on some of the gymnastics equipment inside.

"Hey! Grayson come down for a bit would you?". I called out to him as he hangs on the still rings.

"If Bruce sent you then forget it, I'm not interested in anything you guys want me to do" He grumbles as he pulls himself up.

"Bruce is gone for a week, I have something else in mind so you better get down from there or else" I jokingly threaten him as I lean on my cane and hiding my other hand behind.

"or else what?" He did a somersault in the air before landing on the thick foam, he's form perfect with minimal errors and then glared at me with his arms crossed.

"Or I'll have someone take down every equipment in this room till you have to swing on those trees on the garden like a monkey". Before smiling at him as I shove a bouquet of consisting of white Lilies and Hyacinths to him.

"Now, let's move it flying kid or you'll miss them". I declare and walking out after as he quickly put on one of his windbreaker jacket over his tank top and followed me.

Leaving the manor with Alfred's permission he kept on asking where we're going on the way but I just stayed quiet till we reach the largest cemetary in Gotham and entered as we arrived infront of the grave of John and Mary Grayson's.

Alot of trinkets were given in tribute to the two acrobats, from Fans to friends and family, I stand there infront of their graves as I sense Dick's anger rising.

"You-! do you think this is funny-?!" He fumes out as he grip the flowers tightly and ready to throw it at me when I cut him off.

"Let me ask you something Richard and I want the honest truth from you". I turn and look at him as I lean on my cane.

"Did you really mourn properly to your parents? stand right here and cried for them since that night?"

"Yes! of course I did!"

"Then why are you still angry? like the world has wronged you?" I reach out hesitantly then gently lay a hand to his head before patting his hair gently like how you'll coo over your angry dog.

"It's because you haven't so that's why I brought you here, I'm not forcing you to move on from your parents nor am I forcing you to become another part of a new family" I move my hand to his shoulder and turn him to face their tombstone.

"Just because your saying goodbye doesn't mean you'll be losing them, for now just take your time and stay here as long as you like and we'll come back to the manor whenever, a good cry never hurt anybody". I patted his back and turn away to head somewhere deeper in the cemetery

"Where are you going?" I hear him yell out but still standing in front of his parents as I answered him back.

"The cinerarium!".

Turning into night I was sitting infront of the many urns on the walls filled by the cremated remains of the people in gotham when he walked in and sit next to me, eyes swollen and nose a little stuffy while his cheeks are slightly red.

"Who....were you visiting?"

Not answering him I just lift my cane and pointed at a brown urn with a framed picture of a woman over it.

"Oh....." He realized and curled a little to himself before sighing and shuffled in discomfort, it's no secret to anyone that my mother was only famous because she had a night with Bruce and had me before dying in a mugging gone wrong.

"You know, when she died that night it felt like my world came crashing down too". I confess as felt his stare burning at the side of my face, I kept talking nonetheless.

"I wanted to hurt everyone and put the blame on the people who failed to save her, I didn't even get to see her face again before they cremated her because I'm just a kid who can't pay for a proper funeral".

"But no matter what I do or what I feel the world won't care and will keep on turning with or without you because that's life" Then turning to maintain an eye contact with him.

"The thing we can only control is what you'll do after, I had to be kidnapped by the Joker to realize that maybe it's better to make sure no kid like me ends up having their parents or love one cremated or killed with no justice, it's to live with your loses and win something else instead".

"I hope you'll use that anger and acrobatic of yours to good use Richard, you're still a kid, 10 even so go and make the most of what's left in your childhood before it's too late, if you don't want to be a part of the family then that's fine, it's ok no one's gonna fault you for that, your parents would've have wanted you to be happy nonetheless".

" We're here for you and have our full support, ok?" I convey to him before standing up and asked him if he's ready to go.

'As a perfect older sibling, it's my duty to look after you right? just a few nice words and kindness can push you to where I need you to be'

✦✧✦✧✦

Staring at their face I make out the moon behind their head in a way like a halo does to an Angel as they look at me with a simple smile full of understanding and kindness hidden deep within.

Nodding I reach out but then became a bit hesitant before wrapping my arms around their waist as I laid my head on their chest due to the fact we have a large age difference and height.

"I hope I didn't push anything too far today Richard". YN said as they rub my back with their free hand.

"No it's fine, I'm sorry you had to do this to make me understand". I replied before parting away for a bit to look at them.

"And call me Dick, I- it's a nickname I swear!". I quickly retort back when they snicker at my name.

"Ok ok I know, it's unique don't worry about it kid, now let's go back before Alfred gets more worried". They mumbled the last part before wincing as the both of us quickly head back to the manor.

Arriving and walking pass the opened gates, we were greeted by an angry Bruce Wayne who came back early from his 'business trip' and a frowning butler at the entrance but before he can lecture us, YN pulled them both to the side and let me off the hook.

I take in the sight of Bruce quickly going calm and quiet by the mention of YN softly calling him 'Dad' as they pull him further away but not before turning to wink at me as they motioned me to go up the stairs and hide from the earful of the two adults in this house.

Quickly rushing up I watch as they entered a corridor and leave the main entrance before standing up to walk back to my room to freshen up when something caught my eye.

Turning my head I see on top of the fireplace was two large beautifully framed paintings of the original Wayne Family where Thomas, Martha and a younger Bruce are and the other was a painting of a younger Y/N and Bruce Wayne like one of those old family portrait from the movies or inside the rich people's mansion when we were invited to their parties.

I study the way the painter has captured their face, the emotion in their eyes and that same simple kind smile they showed me back at the cemetery, In the portrait was them hand in hand with Bruce to show their unwavering connection as a Father and child and a strong small hand around the cane on their lap that to me symbolizes their strength and bravery after the tragic accident from the worse villain in Gotham- the Joker, I remember it vividly but the news went nationwide to worldwide at some point.

Like Mona Lisa, a warm smile that seemed too real or even a smile that hides the sadness of their broken heart because of what they went through as a kid like me.

Maybe having an older sibling won't be that bad, it's nice to be looked after, I like it when they give their attention to me and take good care of me, I like them-

I like YN alot.

During my time in the manor it felt like I was in a family again, Bruce Wayne becoming a great father-figure now officially adopted father who turns out to be THE Batman! how cool is that?! adding to that was Alfred who became like a grandfather to me, I never had one before but the thing I mostly look forward to everyday is YN.

It felt so nice to have them around and be anywhere near them, the laugh they do when I make jokes, their smiles and encouraging words when they found out I was becoming Robin to help Batman, I just hope they don't find out the reason I became one anyway.

"That's great! I'm happy you found something else to do but promise me, you'll be safe alright?" YN said their worried words making me feel warm inside before teasing me on my choice of clothing causing me blush.

"Can't you just give him leotards Dad?" YN snicker at Bruce who just rolls his eyes as he watch us over from the Batcomputer.

Everything was going well for me, saving gotham, beating up criminals and the villians in this city and having YN around to make me feel like a real kid when things are rough.

Being a Wayne is hard work too! Bruce was nice enough to let me keep my last name and I get to have it and they still treat me like family! Bruce showed me the ropes and basics of having a rich life and then sent me to school which somewhat sucks BUT YN was there to kick the boredom and everything that's boring about school away, not only that but I now understand why Gotham likes them so much. Gala's with them are so fancy but YN makes it work, they're barely a teenager yet everytime I looked at them surrounded by all the rich and money hungry adults to me it always looks like YN was the adult entertaining little greedy children. Most of the time YN focuses on the needy of Gotham making sure the money they raised in Gala's and Charities are going to the people unlike the one's that invites my parents or the circus just to entertain them and make fake promises and events just to fill up their pockets.

Having the Robin mantle is so awesome too! I get to help Batman fighting the bad guys and villians like a superhero, meeting wonderful people and even be there when Bruce -as Batman of course- made the Justice League, I MET SUPERMAN!!, then there's also Batgirl which Bruce revealed was Barbara Gordon -which was Gordon's kid!- that's hilarious, though it's not funny when she keeps stealing YN's attention, just because they're the same age doesn't mean it weights more than them being my family, my sibling, MINE!

My new life and Family is going pretty well until-

Until that assassin Slade or Deathstroke whatever his stupid name is was sent as a hitman by someone to kill me! Everything went down hill after that, YN was angry at Bruce for letting it happened almost crashing out after finding out who tried to kill me if it weren't for Alfred and Bruce calming them down, Bruce, he was either angry at me or at himself for almost getting me killed, not only that he wants me to stop being Robin!

That's not fair! just because of a little accident doesn't mean I have to stop being a vigilante and lay down the Robin mantle for good!

It was all falling apart until I was saved by YN again as they came up with a plan and get Bruce to change his mind.

"I think you should leave this house for a bit, leave gotham and go somewhere else"

What?

"Maybe it's because Dad doesn't trust you enough to keep on being Robin, maybe you need to just find yourself out there".

Leave? why do I have to leave you?

"Head to Jump city, it's a good place to start from there, I'm sure you'll find friends or even make a group like what Bruce had with Batman in Justice League".

I don't need to go anywhere! I want to stay with you!

"Please Dick, I can't see you falling again you were meant to fly but this thing with you as Robin with Batman is pulling you down," YN said before hugging me.

"I promise I'll keep in touch with you, but for now I'll take care of Bruce and try to talk him out when he returns from that space mission, He can't stop you when you're far away". They then kissed my head before seeing me off to head to Jump City.

And I promise to come back even stronger and become a better Robin to prove I can stay by your side.

Heeding their words and advice I did end up meeting new friends and making a group I could also call family, The Teen Titans while I was in Jump City we spent a lot of time saving the world, becoming a great team, and even closer as a family, it was nice but nothing could beat being a family with YN.

Just like they promised they talked with Bruce making him trust me to keep the Robin mantel, only making me feel even more thankful towards YN but in exchange I had to join another group that was more official and under the guidance of the Justice League for any of their side-kick or apprentices.

It's a bit humiliating to still be in Batman's shadow so I did something about it and became Nightwing, a name that Superman helped me with, a separate hero from Robin and from Batman something I made for myself, I'll do anything to make sure YN efforts were not in vain and make the most of the chance they gave me, it's only fair to show gratitude to your older sibling when they gave you another chance to make up for your loses.

Is it fair though? when I have to share them with another sibling? it doesn't seem fair to me, in fact, why did I have to do all of this just so another kid could swoop in and take my place?

But a good brother must learn how to share, a good brother knows how to be patient and a good brother must be nice towards the younger one even if the younger one is a little stealing piece of shit.

It's fine, it's fine! Everything will go back to the way they were soon, I just have to wait.

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Music in Shuffle Now Playing

Playground - ↻◁ ||▷↺ Bea Miller (Arcane 1) ılıılıılılılıılıılı

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As the night air of Gotham City filled his lungs, a figure quickly jump and ran past many buildings and rooftop with his fast and agile skills to get to the location of his new client.

"This one better pay more than what it's worth for sending me back in this bat-infested hell hole" He muttered as he sneaked into the warehouse and climbed up the catwalk leading to a dimly lit room filled with busted computers and machinery littered with cobwebs and cockroaches.

Reaching towards a desk with an old office chair facing out near a grime and dust-covered window looking out towards to Crime Alley of the city.

"Who is Death?". He rolled his eyes behind the mask when a voice asked as he answer the code to announce his presence.

"The Lamb and The Wolf". Upon saying the correct answer the chair then slowly swiveled to face him revealing a man sitting in the seat with his eyes staring straight towards him that were blank with a tinge of green in the irises, the veins from his face down to his neck and wrist were glowing in a bright hue of green.

He tensed up but moved forward to look closely at his supposed client when something or someone moved behind him, quickly turning he pulled out his gun to shoot and missed just to hit the only lit light in the room since they were too fast before something touched his forehead.

Feeling his whole body suddenly drop on the metal ground as his arms and legs become paralyzed and heavy, he can only use his eyes to look around trying to catch the face of the perpetrator but fails due to the shattered bulb and the weak moonlight coming through the skylight of the warehouse.

"It's nice to meet you again Mr. Deathstroke" He could hear their voice regarding him by his alias but couldn't pinpoint their direction due to the pounding of his head and the hazy effect running throughout his body.

"Can I call you Slade? Or maybe for proper manners I should cal you as Mr. Wilson instead?". They asked as they revealed his real last name.

Wilson's eyes slightly widen from their knowledge of his identity but quickly hides his surprise to prevent them from ever getting the upper hand, he meticulously makes sure no one can dig anything important about his personal life, who is this person to know his last name.

"I really just wanna guess what you might be thinking but just for funsies how about I do this instead?-" As they talk the sound of something thudding along with footsteps rumble on the metal floor before they show their face to him.

Slade Joseph Wilson, a man whose name makes the powerful people in the underground tremble in fear for their lives should they ever be the one at the end of his gun or sword, the man who will be the fastest and deadliest assassin in the world, who will take down many heroes and gods alike by his own, superhuman abilities, skills, power, and sheer will.

Felt more fear than he ever did from his years in this cruel and unmerciful world, his heart kept pumping like he just run for more than a few miles, he's instincts and guts screamed at him to run and flee like his life was -for the first time- truly in danger.

That person was not a nobody or even one of those rich, snobby, and pot-bellied men or overconfident and lustful women that usually hire him, no they were none of that.

He knew them, even before he took that job to kill Robin, how could he not? It was a massive secret among the underground who YN Wayne was, every normal rich person knew they were only a child born from a one-night stand Bruce had with some woman but only the real people working for the Big man and the real deal knew who they were.

YN Wayne was not just the ordinary child of Bruce Wayne that was born out of an accident and the Beloved Child of Gotham, No they were also the precious grandchild of the only daughter of the Big Man himself who went missing years ago until her untimely death he was so feared and no one even knew who this Big Man is, He was never afraid of the guy but still choose to stir away just in case.

He fears no man and everyone fears him but this foreign feeling consumes his head as he watches the young Wayne kneel down and give him a wicked smile as they tap their cane on his mask to take it off.

"Would you look at all those thoughts running into your little murderous brain". They speak out of fascination and interest disregarding the man lying below as he continues to hyperventilate from their intrusion into his brain.

Reaching out to touch his head again, the veins in their hand glow the same as the ones from the unmoving man on the chair once they come near his skin, As soon as their fingers and his skin touch a wave of pain and shock zapped throughout his body making him scream.

An Excruciating pain where he feels his body getting ripped apart from his joints, flesh, and even his skin then to be put back together.

"Stay still I just need something from you" Their smile widens, and the faint glow of green brightens more as they dig deeper into his head as the pain grows and screams slowly fill the abandoned warehouse.

After some time Slade woke up from his forced sleep completely delirious as he remembered the moments that happened awhile ago.

"Looks like the Deathstroke finally woke up from his killer sleep". He heard YN's voice and he turned to see them sitting on the desk as he found himself on the chair.

Slade quickly moves on his feet as he finds the adrenaline and anger deep inside his body when he feels their hold on him no more, He slams them on the table with a hand on their throat before grabbing his military knife that was miraculously still in his belt before aiming it at their throat.

As he tries to stab the weapon in their flesh, his hands shake and tremble from a sudden strong force stopping him making him frustrated and glare at the child.

"Stop resisting and enough with your meta-powers kid, this ends with you dead and a payment for trying to -might I add- put the fear of god on me". Slade growled and tried to choke the barely teenager kid but they just smiled as his hand around their throat loosened by what he felt was his will.

"I said quit with the-" He growled out in frustration but the kid just let out a laugh as they watch him struggle.

"Powers? What powers Mr. Wilson? none of it is working right now you're a smart man you should have caught on by now that I'm only using it when my eyes glows". They explained as they stay lay limped on the table while watching the knife on directly above their eye shake in his hands.

Slade took note of it and studied their eyes that was back to their normal color and notice that their hands were on the side not even touching him, Trying again he reeled his arm back and drove down but his hand keep stopping by just an inch near the Wayne's eye.

"I'm not the one controlling you Mr. Wilson" They mock him as Slade backs away and look at his hands in horror.

"What have you done to me?!". He shouts as the knife clatters on the floor as he sends a murderous look at the child, YN just shrugs as they sit up on the desk and lazily look at Slade still holding a small smile.

"Nothing much just did a little tweak in your brain". They smiled before grabbing their cane and jumping off the desk to walk around the defeated Slade who fell on his knees.

"I knew talking to you without me getting killed would never be a possibility so- I took your will to kill or hurt me instead- Technically now it's you who's stopping yourself". They revealed before stopping in front of Slade as they looked down at him, their eyes revealing the small glow under the shadows of the room.

"You see there's something in this world that you just don't understand yet Mr. Wilson but you don't get the privilege to know that just yet-" The young one kneeled down as they peered through his soul revealing everything that Slade hides behind his eyes and mind.

"What I want you to know though is that You don't belong in my script, you weren't supposed to be a part of this but you just made a mistake and squeezed yourself in any way". They sneered at him before gripping his jaw with their small hands in a surprisingly very tight grip that almost broke his bones, Slade groaned in pain as he tried to talk while his jaw was starting to lock.

"What fucking scrip are you talking about you psychotic shit-"

"Shut up you don't get to talk, by the way that little shit you pulled to Robin? you don't get away with that, Batman might let you but I won't" Their grip tightened even more and Slade could feel his teeth and gums as well as his jaw crack from their inhumane strength a far cry from what fragile, gentle persona, and form they present to the world.

"That little Robin belongs to Me and I get a say on whether or not I don't want him anymore, I won't let you destroy my plans and my perfect family just because you're dumb enough to get played by the Joker to kill my perfect little brother". YN divulged the truth as Slade's eyes widened from the confession and the dots that connected in his head.

"Don't even think about using the truth or bother remembering this because I won't let you ruin my game". They said reading his thoughts before delivering a harsh smack with their cane to his cheek that was strong enough to send him back to the ground.

"I already got what information I wanted from you so I'll let you go until I need something from you again". They then smiled before touching Slade's head one more time and scrambling more into his brain.

"You won't get to remember this but somewhere or some time you will when I want to and when that happens make sure you follow what's written down for you, I don't like Improvs". As Slade roars in pain and anger his body fails to follow his orders to fight back the room around him shakes and distorts in and out of reality as a silhouette of a person with glowing eyes consumes his vision and reaches out their fingers to crawl deep into his brain forcing the memories of his mind to be blocked deep inside.

"You'll pay for this!! I'll find out everything and once I do I'll rip off your little brain with my bare hands!!" He declares as his eyes roll back slowly losing to the darkness only remembering those haunting eyes staring into his soul.

"We will meet again Wilson, if Death and the Fates permit it".

His world fades as the laughing and the sound of steps walking away from him fade.

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HEY! What's up sorry for the long wait I added more stuff from my original version just for you guys! and more YN lore!

Anyway sorry for the weird narrative and mixing of TT (2003) and YJ in one universe I know they don't exist at the same time but TT has a special place in my heart besides this is just for the plot I won't be dwelling too much around them other than possible one shot if it comes to it.

So the versions here should be a mix from:

Prime Earth, Some of Post and Pre-Crisis, Teen Titan, and YJ but this doesn't have to be cannon cannon, So many things could still change.

Bruce has two feral children in his hands now and a few more coming in oh boy.

I added two new villains for now and some will keep coming in the next update Hope you guys liked this

TAGLIST IS NO MORE

#No More Chances #Yandere Batfam #yandere batfamily x reader #Batfam x reader #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere batfam x neglected reader #x neglected reader #yandere dc #platonic batfamily #yandere dick grayson #platonic dick grayson #yandere platonic x reader #yandere platonic batfamily x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere platonic dick grayson x reader

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