#that luckily lived so it was able to go free :] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojicide · 15 days ago

Text

⠀⠀ BOO! ☆ SYLUS QIN.

summary. the garnet wedding ring your ex-husband gave you should hold no meaning by now… and perhaps that was why you wore it around your ring finger as an accessory to your costume. you figured it wouldn’t be a big deal, but you were proven wrong when you ran into him at a halloween party.

warnings. fem!reader. smut, established history, pet names, jealous!sylus, mutual degradation, spitting, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex against a wall

note. okay, yeah, i have a thing for ex!sylus. and ex!sylus dressed up as a boxer for halloween? umm i’m scared where did my clothes go?!?!?

wc. 3.2k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⟡ masterlist | request

Dressing up as a vampire was a stroke of genius if you do say so yourself.

A black floor length dress with a mighty high leg slit with your makeup done to the nines…

After being showered with compliments and approached by men who fawned over you like their lives depended on it, you were almost inclined to believe that being this sexy should be punishable by law.

Luckily for you, it isn’t, and that’s exactly why you’re a free woman who is able to enjoy this wonderful Halloween night.

Strobe lights fan over the sea of people you’re currently floating in, the smell of alcohol and the musk of sweat and cologne swarming you entirely. Music blared over loud speakers, rendering you practically deaf to your surroundings, and perhaps that was why you hadn’t noticed your ex-husband approach you from behind.

“Boo,” he purrs into your ear as he dips his head just enough for his deep voice to be heard, his large hand snaking around your waist to spin you around.

Your smile immediately falters upon seeing the white-haired man who seems to make it his life goal to ruin any ounce of fun that you have without him. “Sylus,” you deadpan.

“Why, excuse me,” he replies through a dark chuckle. “I had no idea we were going to be so brash. Had I known,” he raises his hand to twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, “I would have tugged on these pretty locks of yours to get your attention instead.”

You raise your hand to pull his hand away from your hair, and that’s the moment when he sees it.

(Your ring. He’d recognize it anywhere, of course, he had it designed just for you.)

Sylus takes your hand in his, brushing his thumb over the garnet jewel that you loved so much. “Hm. What’s this?”

You hate how easy it is for him to pick up on such minuscule details about you. It makes you feel flattered, which is absolutely disgusting. You don’t want to feel flattered, not by your ex-husband of all people.

“A ring,” you reply, sliding your hand from his grasp. “An accessory to my costume.”

Sylus shortly hums, his red eyes giving you a once over as he pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Is it necessary to wear it on that finger in particular? You know the implications of such a thing.”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just a ring. It hardly means anything anymore.”

He bristles at that, raising a brow at you. It stung to hear, but he knew that you didn’t mean it. You knew how he was when it came to things of sentimental value—nothing ever lost its touch with him, especially when it came to you.

“Oh, how quickly you dismiss our love. Such a cruel woman you are,” he says, his voice dropping in octave as a smirk tugs on the corner of his lips.

“Cruel?” you repeat with a scoff. “Please.”

“Cruel indeed,” he insists, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back as he lures you closer to him. Perhaps he should have dressed as the vampire with his red, hypnotic eyes and all, but instead, he dressed as a boxer. “Although, I can’t say I dislike the idea of you parading around in my ring. Wards off the men.”

You can’t help snort at that. “Oh, right, because something as trivial as a ring would deter a man from a face as beautiful as this,” you muse, raising your hand to place a few smacks on his cheek. “In your dreams.”

Sylus chuckles darkly at that. He should’ve known you and your sharp tongue wouldn’t be able to resist chuckling a few jabs his way. “I see you in my dreams as is, sweetie. I don’t need the sentiment.”

You scoff. “What you need to do is get a grip. I don’t know if you’ve lost your mind, but we are divorced. D-i-v-o-r-c-e-d. Divorced. Do you know what that means?”

That word hardly meant anything to him. He still wore his wedding ring and addressed you as his wife. He did it shamelessly.

“Such nasty words from such a pretty mouth,” he says through a sigh. “And no, I don’t know what that means. Pray tell.”

“It means that we leave each other alone,” you’re quick to reply. “I don’t want you anymore, Sylus.”

Sylus doesn’t like that idea, not one bit. He doesn’t care if he sounds like a broken record, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you alone. Perhaps he enjoyed pestering you, watching as that cute expression of annoyance etched across your face every time you ran into one another.

“You’re so pretty when you lie,” he murmurs.

You shortly hum. “You’d be prettier if you knew how to shut up.”

Sylus feigns offense, placing his hand over his chest. “You wound me.”

But he does take notice of the fact that you hadn’t denied his words. If anything, it stirs something within him. He isn’t sure what it is exactly, and before he can figure it out, you’re already walking away.

“Sweetie—”

“Don’t call me that,” you reply. His call out to you doesn’t deter you from your path, and before long, you’re already swimming in a sea of men who look like they want to devour you.

Sylus can’t blame them for their incredibly good taste in women, but what he can blame them for is their attraction to his wife.

He tries to obey your wishes, and he leaves you alone for a good… seven and a half minutes. And yes, he’s been counting, because each second that passes where you give another man your undivided attention is a second that he wants cut off from his lifespan.

He does his best, truly, he does. He even sent Luke and Kieran to fetch him a drink. He’s… partying. Yay.

It’s no use, though. Nothing could ever distract him from your presence. Hearing your laugh from across the room is like music to his ears, his favorite song that he cannot bear to part with.

But suddenly, everything shifts.

You’re… holding hands with another man. Not just any hand either.

And when you turn to make eye contact with Sylus, he’s already well on his way to you by the time that bastard’s lips lean in to press a kiss on your left hand, just below his ring.

You’re thrown over his shoulder before you have a say in the matter, and his stiffened arm gets sent into the strange man’s chest. He hadn’t meant to push him very hard, but evidently, his jealousy piqued the moment his hand made contact with him.

“There you are, my gorgeous wife,” he quips, laying a playful smack on your ass.

“Jesus, Sylus! What the—” you exclaim, watching as the man you were talking to falls to the ground.

Before you know it, you’re being carried into the bathroom and spun around, your front facing the mirror while he presses against you from behind.

You really shouldn’t be turned on by this, but you honestly can’t help yourself.

“My, my, sweetie, I knew you were a liar, but I didn’t take you for a whore too,” he says, his voice low and almost rasped. “Nearly allowing another man to kiss the hand I’ve claimed? Tsk tsk.”

You roll your eyes at him, but that only earns you another smack on your ass. It was firmer that time, too.

“You know, you don’t have to have a dick measuring competition with every man I talk to all because of a ring,” you huff, planting your palms on the bathroom counter.

Sylus chuckles at that, his hands sliding over your hips before he splays his palm on the curve of your back, forcefully pushing you over the counter. “Please, you know there isn’t any competition there.”

You hate it when he’s right, and right now, he was definitely correct. You can feel the truth in all of his glory, the outline of his cock pressing against your backside through the fabric of his shorts as he keeps you bent over for him.

You grumble a low, “oh, fuck me,” that you thought went unheard, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

“I never thought you’d ask,” he says, laying another smack on your reddening ass.

You narrow your eyes at him through the mirror. “You’re an asshole, Sylus.”

He hums, working to bunch your dress up around your hips to give him a nice view of your cherry red asscheek, and God, is it beautiful.

“I’m aware,” he says as if it were the most casual thing in the world. “Such pretty panties. You know these are my favorite, you dirty woman.”

Your eyebrows furrow as he disappears from the mirror’s reflection, and before you can think it over, you feel your lace panties be pulled to the side.

Great. Now he knows you’re a wet mess. Just fucking great.

“You really have some nerve,” you scoff, though there’s hardly any bite to your words.

You feel his large hands spread your cheeks apart, and a gasp leaves you when you feel his tongue dart out to swipe along the crack of your ass.

“Oh, yeah, know I do,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your ass cheek. “The nerve I have.”

He dips his head a bit lower, and you’re honestly left stunned as he licks your pussy from behind. He moans into your cunt, bringing his fingers up to swipe along your sopping slit.

And when you glance over your shoulder, you see him suck his two fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widen in genuine surprise, and a huff of laughter leaves your lips.

“Don’t give me that look, baby,” he preens, giving your ass cheek another open-mouthed kiss before he spins you around. He then taps your thigh. “Lift.”

And you do just that, raising your thigh as he lifts you up onto the bathroom counter from his kneeling position on the floor. He drapes your thighs over his shoulders, pressing a kiss to your sensitive skin as he does so.

“You know, your mouth says the most horrible things to me, but your pussy seems to say the exact opposite,” he muses, licking his lips as he gazes up at you. “Always so pretty and wet for me. You sure you don’t want to apologi—”

“Nope,” you’re quick to say, sliding your fingers through his white hair as you push his face into your pussy. “Yeah, just shut up. Perfect.”

His words are swallowed up by your heat, but he doesn’t mind it, not one bit. He closes his eyes as he greedily laps at your cunt, tasting the sweetness that he’s missed far too much. It was so sweet, just like you usually were towards him, but it seems like he’ll have to fuck this attitude out of you before he can see that side of you again.

He doesn’t mind that. More of your smart mouth, more of your pussy… win-win.

By the time he opens his eyes to look up at you again, you can already tell that he’s drunk on you.

“God, you’re so easy, it’s disgusting,” you say through a whine as his tongue curls up and down, stimulating that beautiful pearl between your legs.

Sylus chuckles at that, but he doesn’t let up. His tongue begins to fuck into you now, a groan leaving his mouth as he watches you writhe above him. He’s never seen you look any more beautiful.

(The only exception to that was your wedding day, of course. He wept like a baby at the sight of you.)

He sucks harshly into your clit before he releases it with a pop. “I love it when you’re mean to me, baby. Makes me wanna fuck you so nice, wipe that smug smile right off your face.”

It was true. His cock was rock solid in the confines of his shorts, and even if he wasn’t eating you out like a madman, he’s sure your words would have led to the same fate. He loved it when you dished it back to him because you were just so sexy when you were angry.

You’re quick to shut him up, pushing his face back into your heat, but this time, you’re fucking yourself on his tongue. He doesn’t mind it at all. If anything, he prefers it, because whatever his wife needs, she gets.

“Yeah,” you pant, your head leaning back against the mirror. “Yeah, stop fucking talking.”

Sylus grins against your heat as you make a mess of him—his nose, his mouth, his chin—everything. But he doesn’t give a damn.

He slurps up your slick, drinking it as if he were stranded in the middle of a blazing desert and your pussy was his only means of survival. Though if he were to be honest, he’d just ask you to sit on his face and suffocate him with this sweet cunt of yours if he ever found himself in that dire of a position.

(He’s already made up his mind—that’s how he wants to go out.)

Soon enough, he grasps firmly onto your hips, preventing you from grinding against his tongue.

“Now you’re just being greedy,” he says through a breathless smile, licking his lips. “Wearing your wedding ring, parading around in this beautifully slutty costume of yours, giving your attention to other men. What has gotten into you?”

You whine as he pulls his mouth away from your cunt, but his words give you a much better idea. Your hand is quick to replace his tongue, stimulating your clit while he watches with starry eyes. “Dunno. You can get inside of me right now, though.”

He huffs at that. “Playing with this pretty pussy right in front of my face? Have some class.”

You can’t help but chuckle out loud at that, and he smiles at the sound of your laughter but also at the view of your fingers circling that swollen clit of yours.

“You can talk to me about class when you aren’t kneeling in front of your ex-wife’s pussy like a puppy begging for a treat,” you joke.

Sylus hums at that, spitting onto your cunt to give you a bit more lubricant as you play with yourself. Slowly, he rises to his feet.

“I don’t have to beg for this pussy, baby,” he tells you, “It’s mine, after all.”

“Mm, whatever. Me next.”

And when his eyes meet yours, a wicked grin stretches across his face. You stare at him with your mouth open, you tongue lolled out between your lips, begging for him to spit in your mouth.

“You’re filthy,” he rasps, grasping onto your jaw to tilt your head at the perfect angle before he spits into your mouth, watching with hazy eyes as you swallow it. “Absolutely nasty. You’re so beautiful, baby.”

His degrading and his praise are a dangerous mixture for you, but you’re loving every second of it. This reminds you of the good times you two shared, and you feel a surge of nostalgia wash over you.

Sylus taps the sides of your thighs, and you wrap them around his waist without question. He lifts you up from the bathroom counter, pressing you against the wall to allow himself better access to you.

His lips find your neck, and a string of mewls leave your lips as he works to free himself from the confines of his shorts. And when you feel the tip of his cock smear pre-cum along your slit, you honestly feel like you’re really in for it now.

Your smart tongue has gotten you here, and you aren’t sure if you should thank it or curse it. But when you feel the tip of his thick cock begin to prod your entrance, your answer is made clear.

You claw at his back through his shirt, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. “Sylus, wait— I… go slow please,” you stammer out.

It has been awhile, and you weren’t exactly used to his size anymore. He gives you a nod of understanding, his eyes softening as he looks at you.

“Of course, baby, I hear you,” he whispers, his voice suddenly much gentler. He hooks an arm beneath you as a means of holding you up while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear. “We don’t have to do this, honey. I don’t want to see you in pain.”

You shake your head, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. “No, no… I want to. Just… slowly please.”

Sylus nods his head, pressing a sweet peck on your cheek as he slowly begins to push his cock deeper inside of you, keeping his eyes on your face to read your expression.

“I’m okay,” you say, answering the question that you know is swirling in his head right now.

He was a stretch, but it wasn’t too bad. And now as he slowly begins to build up a pace of thrusting inside of you, you’re feeling pleasure above anything.

He leans in to press another sweet kiss on your lips before he quickly returns to being the same asshole he was before, his smirk returning as he fucks you against the wall.

“You’re awfully bratty for someone who can hardly take my cock,” he purrs, trailing his lips along your jawline as he thrusts his cock even harder inside of you.

The sound of slapping skin and your breathy moans engulf the room, and it’s the most lewd and beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“I can take it, you asshole,” you grumble, tugging on his hair as his length reaches a particular sensitive point of your walls.

He chuckles against your neck, drawing his tongue out to taste your skin. “Mm, I know, baby. You take it so nicely. Just giving you a hard time.”

You huff, leaning your head back against the wall, only for one of his large hands to cup the back of your head. You thought it was sweet how he was bracing you from the impact of how hard he was slamming your body against the wall with each thrust.

You mewl as you feel the heat in your belly pooling, your glassy eyes staring at the reflection of you two in the mirror, watching with blown eyes as he fucks you into oblivion.

He buries his length into you, keeping you pressed against the wall that way while your leg lock around his hips keeps you stable. He grasps onto your left hand, pressing a kiss on your ring.

“Do me a favor, baby,” he whispers, brushing his thumb over the jewelry. “Never take this off again.”

And within seconds, you’re nodding. “I won’t.”

Sylus chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss on your cheek as he begins to thrust inside of you again. “Who’s the easy one now, sweetie?”

This wasn’t how you expected your Halloween night to go, being fucked by your ex-husband in the bathroom of a party.

Well… this is what you get for being so sexy, you figure.

note: i was too lazy to think of some more banter between sylus and reader so i decided to give y’all the traditional ‘fade to black’… in the most untraditional sense. anyway!!! i tried something new with this and i’m not sure if it’s working for not so pls interact if you enjoyed! ik it was kinda nasty at some parts but hey… i had to do it to em. :3 TY FOR READING!!!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⟡ masterlist | request

#love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus qin #sylus #lads sylus #sylus x y/n #sylus x you #l&ds sylus #sylus smut #love and deepspace #lads #love & deepspace

1K notes · View notes

leafyeyes417 · 5 months ago

Text

Danny is glad he actually made a plan for once. Jazz had been on his back about telling their parents he was Phantom, and he had managed to convince her he had a plan. The only thing that would extend how long it took was the frequency of ghost attacks.

He generally didn’t have much free time, so luckily Clockwork was willing to put him in a time bubble so he could get stuff done, like get enough sleep. But mostly he was training. Sometimes with Wulf to make portals, but other ghosts had come by too.

The power that was giving him the most trouble, and that he needed most for his plan was duplication. It took forever and he still couldn’t have more than 3 versions of himself at one time. How Vlad managed so many he had no idea.

Anyway back to his plan. He got all his stuff that he couldn’t afford to lose hidden away, got copies of all his parents blueprints and files, replaced items that he didn’t feel comfortable letting them keep if worse case scenario came, and a few more miscellaneous things.

He decided not to tell Sam and Tucker what he was doing. Though he did give them a mysterious file that they weren’t able to open yet. It would lead them to him later. But he needed their reactions to be legitimate, even if he hated having to potentially distress them for a bit.

He then sent his duplicate in his place back home while he went to the Ghost Zone to keep learning and keep an eye on things. Hopefully things went well, but he planned to spend a full living realm month here just in case his parents faked taking it well.

————————————————————————

It did not go well. About two weeks after his duplicate told his parents they knocked him out and buried him in a ghost proof coffin. Was he glad he wouldn’t have to experience his worse fears as a lab experiment? Yes. Was he still going to have nightmares of being trapped underground unable to escape? Also yes.

He was glad it was his duplicate though. It was easy for him to undo from a distance and since they had been connected he still had all the memories. He typed in the code for the file he gave his friends before he left. Time to go to Gotham, the one place he was able to wheedle out of Clockwork would be best for him.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #Danny made a plan and it didn’t backfire!#He can actually make portals for himself now #Tucker and Sam attempted to open the file early but it was stuck shut by time powers #I’m a fan of Dead on Main so if continued that would be my chosen route #Danny didn’t realize he was considered a baby ghost and none of his rouges would be happy to find the baby gone #Chaos would happen once they realize and Val would not be able to handle it #Poor Val being run ragged and realizing Phantom was doing a lot more to keep things in check #GIW soon find themselves taken down because the Ghosts are not happy and think they took the baby #Turns out they had Box Lunch instead and the Box Ghost shows he is actually OP #I have no idea where canonically this happens but I was imagining Danny was 16 or 17

2K notes · View notes

slasher-fxcker · 3 months ago

Text

Slashers seeing their future S/O for the first time

Part 2

Including: Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire, Jesse Cromeans, Michael Myers & Thomas Hewitt

Warnings: Swearing, (Brief mention) Attempted Sexual Assault, Violence, Mention of Voyeurism, Mentions of death, slashers being slashers. This page is 18+ Minors do not interact.

A/N: AAAND here is part 2! Hope you guys enjoy this first piece. Believe me there are many more to come. Feel free to send requests through!

Billy Lenz:

· Billy was excited about the new tenant in the house, it had been a while since he had any fun. He had been waiting for you to move in since he heard about it. He listened to you all day, moving your stuff around, there were other people too, movers he assumed. All day he listened to your voice and couldn’t wait until he could hear it on the other end of the phone.

· He had spent the day thinking of all the dirty things he wanted to tell you, all the ways he wanted you to scream for him. Of course, he had worked himself up, he waited until not long after midnight and decided to venture into the house. Poking around silently in your things while you slept. It wasn’t until he snuck into the living room did he realise that you were laying on the lounge. He froze not sure if you were asleep or not, luckily for him you were. He crept closer, watching your face. “Pretty, so pretty,” he mumbled to himself over and over again, along with a few other profanities.

· You moved slightly at the sound of his voice, repositioning yourself when he noticed your top slip open slightly revealing some of the bra you wore underneath. Billy could barely contain his ramblings at this, his mumbling getting louder as he pawed himself through his pants. You stirred again and he raced back to the attic as quietly as he could to finish what he had started downstairs. Yes, Billy was definitely excited about his new tenant.

Brahms Heelshire:

· Brahms had to admit, he was hesitant about getting a ‘nanny’. He didn’t trust people and he didn’t want to be left alone. He knew you would be there soon and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t slightly excited. The knock at the door had him rushing through the walls to one of his hiding spots closest to the entrance. As the door opened he was surprised to say the least, you were younger than he imagined and way hotter. He would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine how he would be able to watch you during your stay, see you in bed, in the bath, some might find it shameful but Brahms was getting excited just thinking about it.

· After listening to you speak to his parents he had decided you would fit nicely into his routine. They had introduced you to the doll and he was surprised to see how at ease you seemed interacting with it. You didn’t stare at them like they were crazy, you were kind and acknowledged the doll as if it was Brahms himself. It made him feel seen, as silly as that sounds.

· Brahms had to admit, he wasn’t sure about getting a nanny at first, but seeing you speaking to the doll and imagining all the ways he was going to keep you on your toes sparked something in him. He found himself more excited than he had been in a long time.

Jesse Cromeans:

· Jesse wasn’t exactly excited to meet his new assistant, his last one had been the definition of incompetent. Jesse was a busy man, he didn’t need to be held up by another useless member of staff, he already had enough of those. The knocking on his door broke him out of his train of thought, “Sorry to interrupt sir,” he didn’t turn around or acknowledge there was a presence in his office, “I just wanted to introduce your new assistant Y/N,” he took his time before turning the chair around and what he saw definitely surprised him.

· He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it hadn’t been you. You seemed so soft and small, innocent in a way, he noticed the way you looked away when he had been staring too long. Jesse stood abruptly, which he noticed seemed to startle you as your eyes met his once again. You didn’t miss the small tilt of his head as his eyes scanned you before holding out his hand towards you.

· He took in your meek demeanour as you approached him and took his hand in your own, you didn’t seem afraid but definitely hesitant, which he could understand. He also noticed the moment you seemed to realise you hadn’t spoken yet, you had stopped shaking hands but neither of you had let go as you looked up at him and spoke, “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir,” Jesse didn’t miss the stir inside him when you called him that, looking up at him with your bright innocent eyes, “I’m incredibly excited for the opportunity to work for you.” Oh yes, Jesse was a busy man but he was sure he would be finding time to make sure you enjoyed your new position.

Michael Myers:

· Michael was bored. He had that itch that snuck upon him some nights, as he roamed the streets looking for his next kill. It had been almost a week since his last and the buzz hadn’t lasted very long. He had followed a pair of men into a park, they were loud and definitely had been drinking. Drunks make for an easy target, he stayed far enough back that he couldn’t see them but could still hear them so he knew he was on the right path.

· “Well what do we have here,” Michael stopped when he heard one of the men speak, “Shouldn’t be out here alone,” the other man said. “Just leave me alone,” he heard a third voice, a softer voice. Michael moved forward to be able to see what was happening. He stood by a corner just in time to see one of the men grab your arm as you tried to push past them, “Slow down honey, we can take you home if you want.” You pushed him and told them to leave you alone again. The man backhanded you, knocking you down to the ground and the other one crouched down to hold you down.

· Michael wasn’t sure why but something about you made him falter, you seemed so small yet watching you try to fight these men off like you had a chance made him feel something. He wasn’t sure what it was, he wasn’t used to feeling anything but something told him to stop the men. Before you could even scream you heard the man that was still standing groan out in pain and looked up to see a large knife sticking through his chest. “What the fuck,” the other man yelled lunging at Michael, he took care of him quickly. Once both bodies were on the ground he stood there looming over you, he wasn’t sure whether he was going to kill you yet. If it was anyone else they would already be dead, but something about you made him hesitate. You looked up at him and neither of you dared to be the first to move, you broke the silence, “You… you saved me.” Michael just tilted his head, he wasn’t sure what to do with that information. He needed to think, he needed to get away from here. How had a regular night of killing turned into this? Yes, Michael had been bored, but you seemed like someone who would change that.

Thomas Hewitt:

· The heat was especially unkind to Thomas today, he had been called down to help Luda at the service stop. Of course, he never minded helping his mama but the heat in the shop was stifling. He was grabbing some of the last boxes from the store room when he heard the bell on the front door chime. “Oh, look at you dear, my goodness you're all grown up.” Thomas relaxed when he realised his mama knew who was in the store, he had figured it was the new family that had moved in. Luda had told him about an old friend of hers who had moved back with her daughter. She seemed especially excited when she spoke about introducing him to you.

· “Evening Miss Luda, mama wanted me to bring you these.” You say handing over the basket, “Oh goodness, its been years since I’ve had one of your mamas pies.” she checked the contents before replacing the lid, turning back to you she remembered you hadn’t met her son yet. “Tommy, come out here, I’ve got someone I want you to meet.” Thomas hesitated before letting out a gruff sigh and walking back into the store. He walked towards you both but kept his eyes to the ground, he didn’t need to see the look of horror on your face when you found out Luda had a monster for a son.

· “This is my boy Thomas,” Luda introduced him, Thomas was expecting you to hide away from him or brush off the introduction all together, but instead he heard your timid voice as you held out your hand, “It’s nice to finally meet you Thomas, I’m sure you’ve heard as much about me as I have you.” He finally looked up then to find the most beautiful pair of eyes he had seen staring straight up at him expectantly, no fear in sight. He seemed taken aback, not expecting you to be so pretty and certainly not expecting you to be so kind. Before he could think any longer he noticed the slight blush across your cheeks and realised you still had your hand out.

· He hesitantly reached out, not sure if he was more afraid of spooking you or himself. Thomas gently took your hand in his before giving it a soft shake. You didn’t know how someone as large and strong looking as him could have such a soft touch. You were both still holding the others hand and staring at each other when Luda broke you out of your trance. “Well now that you’ve finally met, why don’t you and your mama join us for dinner?” Luda suggested. You and Thomas finally broke your gaze and you quickly composed yourself agreeing. You turned back to Thomas, “Well it was lovely meeting you Thomas, I guess I’ll see you tonight.” You smiled at him before turning back towards the door. He felt the blush on his face warming up and realised the Texas heat wasn’t the only thing that’s making him sweat.

808 notes · View notes

bokunoheros · 1 month ago

Text

ཐིཋྀ KINKTOBER DAY 7 - begging : neito monoma

warnings : overstim, sex toys, sadistic monoma, monoma calls reader princess, afab reader, reader is in class 1-A, bondage, dorm sex

word count : 850

🐙 note : monoma’s personality is so……. unique

you truly do not know how you got here, in bed with neito monoma of all fucking people. to say you dislike him is an understatement, you simply cannot stand him. his stupidly big ego and ridiculously handsome face was troublesome, and yet, you found yourself always looking his way; he knew this, naturally, and would bring it up whenever you were around just to annoy the ever living shit out of you. oh, how you hated him! he was nothing short of an arrogant and eccentric prick who loved to flaunt his achievements. luckily for you, being in class 1-A gave you an advantage over him, always holding it over his head that you were in the better class with more talented students.

and now here you lie in monoma’s dorm room tied to his bed with a vibrator on your clit and one right up against your g-spot. you squirm and wiggle trying to free yourself from the restraints and torture placed upon your body, monoma sits on the edge of the bed with his arms crossed and a gigantic, stupid grin on his face.

“what’s this about being better than me? i thought you class A students were supposed to have much better stamina! just look at how you’ve fallen from grace!”

the worst part: he was 100% right. you were expected to have better stamina than only being able to take two orgasms and yet here you are whining on the verge of a third, you can’t help the way your body spasms and reacts to his cocky words like a bitch in heat. monoma pities you as you lay on his bed practically crying and unable to do anything about what he’s giving you.

“let—ah fuck!—hnnng, let me—let me go dammit!”

“beg.”

excuse me? beg? did this rat just tell you to beg? what kind of request is that? after tying you up and torturing orgasms out of you he’s making you beg to be released? he’s straight up cruel and just when you thought he couldn’t get any worse.

“you heard me, beg for it.”

as if you would ever! you can’t stand to give him the satisfaction, even if it’s too much. even if your pussy is throbbing and aching, even if you can hardly hold in your mewls and whimpers about how it’s too much. you may not have the stamina to withstand climax after climax but neito monoma has another thing coming if he thinks you aren’t persistent enough to keep yourself from begging.

“i’d rather—haaah! i’d rather die than—fuck, fuck! i’d rather die—ahhh! than give you the sa-satisfaction!”

he almost seems surprised, his eyes widen just the slightest and he wonders what in the world he’ll do with you.

“fine. maybe this will convince you.”

he reaches over and increases the speed on the vibrator. you cry out, throwing your head back and squeezing your eyes shut. oh it hurts, it hurts so bad but it feels so, so good. you squirm even more making monoma laugh, he leans in close to your face and grabs your cheeks with one hand. slamming his lips into yours he reaches up to your tits and tweaks at your nipples with his other hand making you moan into his mouth, he slips his tongue in and explores your mouth as you desperately try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“mmm, come on now princess don’t be like that. just enjoy it won’t you?”

you can hardly think, your brain is overloaded with all the sensations you’re experiencing. from the vibrator to your puffy nipples to monoma’s tongue fighting yours, you almost find yourself begging. but you don’t, you hold on and bite your tongue (metaphorically).

“kill yourself—” your back arches and you thrash against your restraints as you choke out a moan and threat all at once, tears spilling down your flushed cheeks from the overstimulation. “go to hell!”

“now, now—telling someone to kill themselves? that doesn’t sound very heroic to me,” the egotistical blonde laughs out. he was just pushing your buttons at this point, making fun of your poor situation. “now, take back what you just said and beg like i told you to, and then maybe i’ll let you go.”

you glare at him, but your heart isn’t in it. and monoma? he can tell. he hums to himself, getting up from the bed and heading toward the door.

“wait! don’t–! don’t leave me here, please, neito, please—fuck!”

he turns, a smile on his face and an eyebrow raised.

“what was that lovely? i didn't quite hear you.” his voice is sing-songy and mocking

“please, please let me go. i can’t—hnnng— can’t take anymore!” you do your best to sound desperate and you pout, jutting your lips out and trying to give puppy dog eyes.

“there you go, good girl.”

finally, finally monoma let you go. he gently pulls out the vibrator and unties you, rubbing your wrists softly. the switch is surprising, the usual cocky and sarcastic monoma is gone and replacing him was a kind and gentle monoma. perhaps he wasn’t so bad after all.

451 notes · View notes

kaile-hultner · 4 months ago

Text

Help me dig upward: the Tumblr post

In which I talk a little bit about the hole I’ve been in for a hot minute—and what I want to do to dig out of it.

Hey y’all,

For the second time in a few years I’m starting a GoFundMe. This time, though, it’s not for the site, at least not explicitly. It is to help me get out from under the weight of debt that I’ve been carrying for more than a decade at this point, but which has finally gotten so bad that it’s affecting everything from my sleep patterns to my overall mental health and ability to do the thing that you likely already support me for: this website.

If you’ve been wondering why the posting has decreased here, or reduced in quality, or why we started 2024 off publishing other writers and then just as suddenly stopped doing that again, this is why: I am out of money, I am in debt, and it feels like I’m living every day in pure, basic survival mode.

This GFM, in which I’m asking for $10,000, is a moonshot, a Hail Mary. I don’t expect it to raise anything; it will be the last time I ask the Internet for money, whether it works or it doesn’t. If it works, obviously it’ll mean I’ll be able to post more and maybe my mental health will improve and I won’t feel like every moment is a countdown to a terrible ending, and I’ll be able to think of compelling angles to talk about video games again. If it doesn’t work, maybe I’ll figure something else out. Bankruptcy, probably. I don’t know.

I hate doing this. I hate being in this position. I hate that I’ve already asked for money this year and people have been extremely generous and it just feels like all that generosity just went into a hole. I wish I had something to show for that generosity, or proactively for anything I gain from this campaign. So, if there is something you want me to cover or talk about or look at in exchange for your support on this campaign, just shoot me an email with proof of your donation, no matter how small. It’s [email protected]. I can’t promise I’ll write a bunch of magnum opuses at your request but I will do what I can just simply to show appreciation for your support.

Anyway, this feels bad to me and I’m already starting to regret it, so I’m going to wrap this up by saying thank you in advance and I owe you my life. I wish that was figurative.

Edit: here is the text of the GFM I posted.

Hi y’all,

My name is Kaile Hultner. I am an online cultural critic who has been running the video game criticism website No Escape since 2019. My work has been featured in other places like PC Gamer, Polygon and Bullet Points Monthly. And like a lot of people, I have been deeply in debt for years.

Debt is a very strange phenomenon. As anthropologist David Graeber demonstrated in his book Debt: The First 5000 Years, it is a phenomenon that imparts a kind of moral valence on a person; whether or not that person can pay their debts is a sign of their trustworthiness or virtue as a member of polite society. Yet you can’t go without debt: at some point, at least in the United States, you have to pick up a form of debt – credit – to establish your credit score, without which you can’t rent an apartment, buy or lease a car, or, in some cases, even get a job. Being debt-free can harm this score, as can having a credit history that is “too young.”

I’ve been in debt for a long time. I’ve been managing my debt for over a decade. Every year for the last six or seven years in particular it feels like I’m losing progressively more and more ground. Seven years ago I had a car; I could do things like deliver Uber Eats and DoorDash and make extra money whenever I ran out. It broke down in my driveway in 2022 and I couldn’t afford to take it to a mechanic to get it fixed. I sold it for $200. I haven’t been able to replace it. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever need a car for anything. Luckily my day job is WFH.

Recently, I’ve been fighting with my old bank over charges it erroneously applied to my account in excess of $1000, causing it to go deep into the negatives. I’ve been slowly, slowly digging myself out of that hole thanks to some close friends and some very kind folks who follow me on the Internet. But it’s caused other debts to exacerbate. And tonight I realized that I am at the end of my rope. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t sit here and say that I’ve done everything right; certainly, more than one bad decision made out of desperation has put me here. I won’t make excuses for that. But I’m tired of being here, in this position. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night with heart palpitations because I got an alert from my bank that I’m in the negatives. I’m tired of getting emails and phone calls from debt collectors. I’m tired of living in basic survival mode with no discernible path forward. I’m tired of being tired, of not having the energy to be creative and do the work I’ve built an online presence around for five years. And paradoxically, I’m tired of asking people on the internet for money.

So I’m going to ask people on the internet for money, one final time.

I’ve set the goal at $10,000. This is far more than I’m honestly expecting to get, but if I get even a fraction of that I could finally obliterate my debts in a meaningful way. I do have specific milestones that I basically need to meet, otherwise this GFM doesn’t hit its maximum effectiveness, but otherwise the sky is the limit. If I reach the whole amount… I don’t really know what I’ll do. Cry, maybe.

Milestones – bolded are high-priority

Milestone reached! $750 – gets my old bank account out of the negatives. Eliminates one vector of harassment, allows me to close that account and move on.

Milestone Reached! $1800 – does the above and allows me to fully pay any late or past-due loan payments missed as a result of the bank issue.

Milestone Reached! $6000 – does the above and allows me to fully pay off all installment loans

$8000 – does the above and allows me to pay off any remaining debts.

$10,000 – does the above and allows me to start saving.

$10,000+ – basically a moonshot, I have no idea what I’ll do with extra.

I fully do not expect you to donate to this. There are people trying to escape genocides, much more abject poverty, crushing medical debt, and so much more that feel – at least to me – so much more worthy of your attention and money. But just know that if you dodonate something, you have my undying appreciation. I will quite literally owe you my life.

I’m going to post this now before I get too emotional or lose my nerve entirely, but again: thank you. Even if all you do is read this.

—Kaile

#crowdfunding #financial aid #mutual aid

401 notes · View notes

tra1nchi · 5 months ago

Note

Step-dad divorcing readers mom only to later found out reader is marrying him 😜

MINORS DNI!! Bttm male reader,,Stepc3st,, cheating,,

He hated his wife,, She would never be able to compare to what you were to him,,he had made a mistake marrying her and not you,,she was demanding, selfish and rude while you were sweet,,kind and,,submissive

At first your relationship was a cute little fling,,only occasionally and rarely sleeping with eachother,,but soon he got bolder,,he wasn't getting any younger,,he needed you

So his solution was that you both started to have sex constantly,,even if your mother was home,,your step dad felt like he was risking it all but at the same time,,nothing,,

He would make you suck him off under the singing table,,his foot being the only stimulation to your cock,,forcing you to ride him on his bed while your mother was in the shower only a few steps away,,

He couldn't bare having sex with his wife,,it only grew worse when he stopped reaching orgasm with her,,his heart pounded in his chest when he excitedly moaned out your name instead of hers,,

Luckily she hadn't noticed,,but ever since he did that he couldn't face her,,indulging himself in you to distract himself,,finally deciding to divorce his wife,,

Your step dad immediately convinced you to live with him,,fucking you constantly as now you both can be as loud as you wanted,, your step father wouldn't let you go now that he was free from his wife :3

#{anon asks}#{h4rny ask}#bottom male reader #{bttm male reader}#sub male reader #x sub male reader #x bottom male reader

717 notes · View notes

afterglowkatie · 7 months ago

Text

secret admirer | l.w.

leah williamson x reader | 1.4k | leah had been on the receiving end of your anonymous letters not having the courage to talk to her until you get caught out

ˏˋ°•*⁀arsenal/lioness!reader - a little leah fic bc mainly leah and alexia have been living rent free in my head all day today :') but yeah! also i work 10 hour days the rest of the week so a little something until i can not be too tired to write again!

‘Ooh, Leah’s got a secret admirer,’ Keira sang out, teasing Leah while they crowded around the bouquet of flowers and note that was left sitting in Leah’s cubby. Keira took the note from Leah’s hand reading it out loud, if any one was around they’d be able to listen in to the contents.

For the last few months Leah had been finding little notes of admiration left around in places that only she would be able to find. The notes started appearing around in places when she was anywhere with arsenal. At training, their home games and also their away games. At first she thought it might’ve been a supporter anonymously giving her support and admiration from afar. It could’ve looked like that especially with some of the shorter notes being pretty generic, ‘your laugh is my favourite sound’ and ‘your smile is pretty just like you’.

Until the longer notes made their appearance, taking the place of the shorter notes. After a month of leaving the shorter notes around for Leah to find, she hadn’t figured out it was you which made you decide to be more brave. Well as brave as you could be hiding behind anonymous letters and gifts. Your letters got longer and more personal and in depth which made Leah clue in that it wasn’t a fan and the likelihood it was some crazed stalker was quite low.

With how personal some of the things were and that she was still receiving flowers and notes even while on camp with England, Leah started considering that it was one of her teammates who Keira had deemed her secret admirer. Even if she was unsure of who was sending and writing her these notes, Leah still thought some of them were beautifully written and even gave her the comfort she needed especially after tough games.

‘I really have no idea who is leaving these for me. Could it be someone here?’ Leah voiced the thought she had been having for a little while now, that it was one of her teammates. They both pondered the thought, realising that it was probably the only reasonable explanation on how these letters always seemed to reach Leah no matter where she was.

‘Our next mission, finding out who your secret admirer is,’ Keira laughed, slightly wiggling her eyebrows, teasing Leah even more.

‘Our next mission is training,’ Leah rolled her eyes, shaking her head and gently pushing at her best friend.

Already out on the pitch you watched as the pair walked out joining the rest of the team before training started. Ever since you met Leah you had been infatuated with her. The way she was kind and helpful to you when you started at arsenal and when you got your first call up for the lionesses, it instantly drew you in. The only problem was that you had no idea how to properly talk to her. It wasn’t unknown that Leah can be intimidating, she definitely intimidated you. Whenever you could be around her within a group setting you were always there, even from slightly afar your feelings towards Leah continued to grow.

It frustrated you how you didn’t even know how to befriend Leah, only being able to be around her whenever other girls from either team were there. At first you weren’t even going to leave her the letters, only writing them for yourself as a way to get your feelings out. Feeling like you would implode from how greatly you were feeling for Leah, luckily writing it out had helped you. Unlucky for you that one of the letters had slipped out and fallen in a place where Leah would find it. While you never wrote your name on any, all the letters were addressed to Leah so there was no mistaking that it was for her when she eventually found it.

When you saw Leah holding up the coloured paper you knew you had used to write out your feelings, your heart started to race. Immediately trying to think of a way you could get far away from Leah just in case. But the small smile that ghosted her lips melted your heart a little. So you continued to leave more hoping that same smile would always make its appearance, wanting nothing more than to make sure Leah was happy. In some way you could still be in her life.

Nights before matches weren’t great for you, always ending up struggling to sleep from the build up of nerves. Eventually you’d be able to push the nerves away enough to be able to sleep but tonight proved to be the hardest you’ve faced since your first national camp. Finding yourself scribbling out a little note for Leah as a way to distract you from your nerves at the match the next day.

Not wanting to keep the letter on you knowing it would be more risky with everyone on top of each other in the hotel and thinking everyone would be asleep by now you decided to deliver the letter. Sneaking out of your room and down the hallway towards the room you knew Leah was staying in, you made sure to be quiet enough so no one would wake up and find you out in the hallway at this time knowing you couldn’t make up a lie to save your life.

Though you didn’t account for Leah to still be awake having gotten lost in all different kinds of puzzle games on her phone. You shuffled around a little outside the door to her room contemplating whether you should actually slide the letter underneath the door or throw it out and make your way back to your own room.

Leah had heard some noises outside the door in the hallway and had gotten up to check it out, to see if it was any of her teammates needing help. She was about to open the door when she saw the familiar coloured paper and knew it was another letter. You were still standing outside the door lost in your thoughts, wishing you had more courage to actually talk to Leah, when you suddenly came face-to-face with the girl that clouded your thoughts. Leah’s face matching the same surprise and shock as your own.

‘You were the one who wrote me all these letters?’ Leah was the first on to break the silence between the two of you, quickly stepping out into the hallway beside you and quietly shutting the door, ‘Why didn’t you just come talk to me?’

Leah’s eyebrows furrowed a little. While she had caught your interest, little did you know that you had caught Leah’s interest. She found the way you could instantly light up the room and change a sullen atmosphere into a lighter more joyful one quite endearing. Always wanting to get to know you and talk to you more but she could never seem to get you alone, always with a group of people whenever the two of you were around each other. Leah always watched you from afar, she’d become quite proud of the footballer you’d become since she first met you. After a tough match she’d always be looking around wanting to catch a glimpse of the smile you’d always be wearing to try and cheer everyone up. Leah was relieved knowing you had been the one writing her the letters.

‘I think I practised talking to you and asking you out a couple hundred times in the mirror,’ You sighed out, softly laughing at how ridiculous you felt sharing this with Leah. But she’d already read so many letters from you so you might as well confess everything now, ‘But anonymous notes was all the courage I could muster,’ You whispered out, looking around a little fidgeting with your fingers.

‘You practised asking me out? On yourself?’ Hearing the amusement in Leah’s voice, you looked up seeing her slightly smirking at you.

‘Of course that’s what you focused on,’ You shook your head, a small smile starting to creep it’s way onto your face when it suddenly dropped and you took a deep breath, ‘Well Le, now you know that it’s me…would you want to go out with me some time?’ You raised your eyebrow in question, your eyes glimmering with hope that Leah would agree, hoping that maybe she felt the same way.

‘Hm let me see,’ Leah pulled a fake thinking face, but it made your heart deflate not realising she was setting you up and just messing around with you. Leah saw your face drop and instantly reached for your hands, interlocking your fingers with hers while she smiled softly at you, ‘Oh stop the frown, I’d love to go on a date with you,’

#leah williamson x you #leah williamson #leah williamson fluff #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #awfc imagine #awfc #woso one shot #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso soccer #woso imagines #arsenal women

554 notes · View notes

chosok-amo · 6 months ago

Text

I DARE YOU .ᐟ

BABYSITTER‘S PUNISHMENT : TOJI FUSHIGURO

when you tryna steal from toji to only end up getting fucked by him.

CONTENT WARNING : smut! toji, rough sex, spanking.

P.S this is from toji's pov

ever since my marriage fell apart, and my bitch of an ex-wife (pretend it's not megumi's mom) left me for some hunky personal trainer, I’ve been a little short-tempered. you see, we had built a home together and raised a beautiful son, megumi, who I love more than anything else in the world. we had a gorgeous house in the suburbs, complete with a swimming pool and a large garden with a playground for megumi to entertain himself. I couldn’t have asked for a better home to start a family. so when the aforementioned whore decided to destroy our family, my spirits were crushed and I started to lash out on everyone around me. my secretary at the office was the first to feel my wrath, as I blamed her for every little thing that went wrong, whether it was her fault or not. she was forgiving, though, and ignored my raging temper.

then, I started to shout at people while I was driving, frequently cursing other motorists and swerving erratically so I could make obscene hand gestures at them. I never lashed out at my daughter, I should add. no, she was the one thing that gave me joy in those dark times. a few months after the divorce proceedings, my wife’s ridiculous relationship with her new boyfriend imploded on itself and she came crawling back. I was having none of it and made sure she stayed away.

of course, with the bitch out of the picture I needed some help to look after Megumi whenever I worked late or had to attend meetings at weekends. Luckily, I managed to find a perfect babysitter whose situation suited all of my needs. She was free to work practically every evening and was able to pick up Megumi from school, take him home, feed him, and put him to bed before I even got back. It was an ideal arrangement, not just because of her seemingly constant availability, but because she was absolutely smoking hot. When I interviewed her for the position, I had to keep pulling my eyes away from her chest. Her juicy, round breasts were pressed up against the fabric of her shirt, and I’m pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra as I could see two prominent bumps at nipple height.

Her name was Y/n, and her cute smile and flowing hair instantly made the blood rush to my cock. I hired her on the spot, and ever since that day I reveled in the sight of her perky ass whenever I returned home. I could hardly believe my luck— she was stunning, she also got on very well with Megumi and seemed to be totally professional in her duties. However, my opinion of her changed somewhat when I discovered a truth about her that sent me into a rage.

It all happened one day when I was supposed to be working late. I had arranged for her to pick up Megumi as usual and I was set to return home around 10 P.M that night. y/n was totally obliging and supportive, and so the evening seemed to be set. As it turned out I finished work an hour earlier than I’d expected as the person I was supposed to be having a video conference call with didn’t show up. So, I headed home in a somewhat disgruntled and annoyed state. I pulled up at the front of the house, got out of the car, and walked up to the door.

My bedroom light seemed to be turned on, which was strange as I always made sure to turn lights off whenever I left a room— my OCD-like behavior was one of the things my ex-wife hated the most about me. I thought nothing of it and continued up the garden path to the front door. As I walked inside I looked into the living room and then the kitchen. There was no sign of y/n or Megumi, so I assumed that she was busy putting my son to bed. I walked around on my tip-toes for a while, removing my jacket while I got a drink of water from the tap.

Finally, I decided to go up and get changed, so I snuck up the stairs. Megumi’s bedroom door was slightly ajar, but his light was turned off. I thought maybe the lamp should have been on if y/n was in there. I looked at my bedroom door and again saw the light was turned on. I made my way to the door and pushed it open gently as the suspicion flooded my mind.

I peered inside and saw y/n’s ass wiggling around at me as she bent underneath the bed. She was rooting around for something, and when I saw her bag next to her with a small candle-stick holder poking out, I realized she was stealing things from my room. I was horrified that I had let such a criminal into my house and left her alone with my precious son. However, the sight of her ass moving around turned my anger into something else. Within a matter of seconds, I could feel my cock getting harder.

She hadn’t noticed I was back yet, as her head was well and truly under the bed as she searched for items to plunder. I watched for a few seconds as the rage built inside me, and then stepped inside, closing the door shut as quietly as I could. I crouched behind her and watched for a moment, contemplating the best course of action. The blood was rushing out of my brain to my cock, though, so there was only really one thing on my mind. I knew exactly how to punish her.

”What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I said in a stern voice. She froze and then shuddered as she realised she had been caught. It must have been a massive shock to her system, as she didn’t say a word for what seemed like an eternity. I repeated myself, and then grabbed her feet and dragged her out from under the bed. She tried to claw the carpet to stop me but I was far too strong. As her head appeared from under the bed, she looked up at me with pleading eyes, no doubt presuming she could buy her way out of the situation with a suggestive wink and a squeeze of her breasts. Such leniency was most definitely not on the table, though. I grabbed her arms and pulled her up to her feet, and then turned her around and forced her up against the bed.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!“ she kept repeating, but I wasn’t listening.

“You think you can steal from me?” I scowled, pushing her back down on to the bed as she tried to stand up again. Her ass stuck out as she bent over the side of the bed and I continued “I’ll teach you not to steal from me!”

“What are you going to do with me?” she pleaded, but as she looked back she already knew what I had in mind for her. I kept her chest firmly pressed down on the duvet and raised my hand up above her ass, striking it down with a loud crash. She yelped in horror as I spanked her ass, but I kept going, slapping each cheek over and over again. She tried to push herself up, but I just pushed her back down. She kept resisting, so I grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her back, holding them in place with one hand while I continued to spank the naughty bitch. She winced and groaned with every hit that thrashed across her ass, but I didn’t feel like she had nearly learned her lesson.

“Are you sorry?” I growled, finding myself getting more and more turned on by her whimpering. Her screams to be let go almost sounded sexual in nature, as if the spanking was turning her on more than it was hurting her.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she cried, repeating it after every strike that landed over her ass. My cock was rock hard and almost bulging from my trousers. Then I had a much better thought of how to punish her more effectively. I pulled her back up and stood her at the side of the bed, letting go of her arms as I wrapped mine around her chest, constraining her movement completely. She wiggled her body to loosen herself from my grasp, but my arms were far too strong. I ran my hands over her stomach, feeling the material of her vest top as I moved higher and higher towards her breasts.

Once again she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her nipples were poking out firmly through her top. I groped at them and squeezed the warm, fleshy lumps in my fingers as she squirmed around in my arms. No doubt she could feel my massive, hard cock rubbing against her ass cheeks as I held her breathlessly close. I could smell the shampoo she had used to wash her hair that day, as the warmth of her body rose up from the top of her head. I was so turned on, I started to pinch her pert nipples and slap the sides of her tits. She cried out loudly, so I placed the palm of my hand over her mouth to silence her, and then moved it down to her neck and squeezed firmly and menacingly at her windpipe.

“Ssshhh!” I whispered as I continued to fondle her tits, digging my fingers into her skin as I enjoyed the feel of her supple mounds. She could feel my breath on her neck as I leaned in and stared down her cleavage, watching her delicious breasts wobbling around in my fingers. They truly felt fantastic, and I would have happily stayed there for hours playing with them, had it not been for her constant struggling.

“I’m not done with you yet!” I said as she tried to bolt for the door. I pulled her back, grasping at her waist as I pushed her back down on to the bed. She squealed for mercy as I climbed on top of her back, and then started to peel her top up over her head. I pulled her arms up and held them above her head while I pulled the vest up and discarded it on the floor. She lay on the bed with her arms wrapped under her chest, preserving her modesty. I wanted to see those juicy tits, though, so I rolled her on to her back and pulled her arms open to expose them.

They were even more beautiful in the flesh than I had imagined – perfectly round and just enough to fit in my hands. I held her down and started to fondle them some more, rolling my thumbs around her nipples and pinching them sharply as I pulled them away from her body. Then I began to slap them from side to side, and as I watched them repeatedly jiggling back into position, my cock became almost painfully hard. She spat in my face, with a small blob of saliva landing on the side of my cheek. I wiped it away carefully and stared gruffly in to her eyes, and then slapped her across the face.

She recoiled in horror, turning her head away for a moment before looking back at me. A tear formed in her eye, but she was clearly excited on a sexual level. She was fighting the urge to shoot me a wry, dirty smile. I slapped her again, firmer and faster that time and across the other cheek. I slapped her a few more times, making her cheeks red from the impact of my hands. Saliva spilled out over her face, and I let go of her body for a moment while I undid my tie.

She watched me remove it, trembling on the bed and glancing at the door to plan her escape route. She wasn’t going anywhere, though, and I rolled her on to her back again and forced her wrists together. I wrapped the tie around them, binding her arms securely so I could have some fun. I slowly removed my shirt as I watched her ass shuffling off the edge of the bed, and pressed my foot on to it to keep her from moving any further.

Her ears pricked up when she heard the jangle of my belt buckle as I unfastened it, removing my trousers and boxer shorts to free the enormous, throbbing cock within. With all of my clothes nestled in a small heap on the carpet, I crouched behind her and started to feel her ass through her tight jeans, smelling the crack and running my fingers in between her legs as she moaned lightly.

I couldn’t wait to see her bare ass, so I reached underneath her waist and unzipped the denim flaps, before yanking the jeans down her legs to reveal her sexy little thong. I pulled the jeans away, turning them inside out as they gripped to her legs. She remained huddled over the bed, and I leaned in and felt the warm skin as I pressed my lips up to her ass cheeks.

I gripped the sides of her thong and peeled it down her legs, allowing it to rest around her knees while I moved back up to play with her ass some more. She was still making the occasional move to get away, and each time she bolted I lashed a fresh smack over her now bare ass cheeks. Red hand marks started to form on the soft, delicate skin as I peeled them apart; exposing her tight little anus and her dripping wet labia below.

There was no doubt in my mind that she was gagging for it. I buried my face between her legs and began to lick passionately around her pussy, lapping up her juices as she groaned with pleasure. I continued to spank her, and every time I cracked my hands over her ass, she let out a fresh painful shriek. As I ate her out, I moved my hand up and started to massage her clitoris with my fingers, rubbing her flowing juices all over it as I flicked my tongue over her pulsating vulva.

I moved up and began to lick at her ass hole, prodding my tense tongue around the incredibly soft puckering rim. I lapped up and down her crack, pulling her cheeks as far apart as they would stretch and causing her anus to open up slightly. I spanked her again, even harder and she whimpered pathetically. Then I had a fantastic idea.

I untangled my belt from the waist of my trousers and looped it around. She looked back and gulped, bracing herself for what she knew was to come. I pressed her firmly down on to the bed, pushing her arms even tighter against her back, and then I thrashed her ass with the belt. A thunderous crack sounded out and echoed off the walls as she squealed in agony. I didn’t wait for the pain to subside, and immediately lashed her again and again. Her ass was red raw and started to turn purple as faint blotches of bruising appeared. I moved down and smacked it over the backs of her thighs, each impact sending a fresh set of ripples rolling over her flesh.

“Are you sorry? I don’t believe you!” I kept stating, not letting her answer. She could barely speak through her agonised groans, but her pussy was wetter than ever. I dropped the belt on the floor and positioned myself behind her ass. As the pain subsided, she started to sigh with relief. I pushed the head of my cock up to her pussy lips, rolling it up and down between them before plunging my rigid girth deep inside her.

She gasped and strained her neck out in front of her as she let out a loud, ecstatic moan. I started to thrust it in and out of her pussy, slowly at first as I coated it in her pussy juices, and then faster and harder as I became better lubricated. Her labia stretched around it nicely, contorting sideways as my penis passed through them. As I fucked her I continued to spank her ass, causing her to yelp in between her breathless panting. The sight of her arms bound behind her back had transformed me in to a wanton sex beast, and I didn’t care about anything other than fucking her as hard as I could. Every single other thought and consideration in my life was second to brutalising her and obliterating her pussy right there and then.

I pounded her as hard as I could, still bending her over the side of the bed. Her head rocked back and forth on the duvet helplessly under the force of my powerful thrusts, and she had given up trying to get away. She had become completely obedient and was accepting her punishment gracefully. I quickly tired of fucking her from behind though, and I desperately wanted to play with those glorious tits some more, so I flipped her over on to her back again.

She grimaced as her weight shifted, trapping her arms underneath her body. There wasn’t time to untie her, though. She would just have to get used it. I grabbed her throat and squeezed, choking her for a moment as I kissed her lips, stroking her tongue with mine and smelling her sweet candy breath. My cock was throbbing like crazy, so I pushed it back inside her pussy once again and instantly began to fuck her vigorously as she bounced up and down on the spring mattress.

The springs in the bed were creaking like crazy under the weight of our bodies. I grabbed her legs and placed them flat against my chest with her ankles behind my ears, and watched my cock sliding deep inside her over and over again while her amazing sweet tits bounced around atop her chest. I pressed her legs forward and reached down to slap her breasts again, and she screwed up her face with every strike that landed across her soft skin.

The sound of my skin slapping against hers was almost as loud as the spanking I had given her earlier. We were both sweating and writhing together as I pushed her further onto the bed with each thrust. My cock was buried entirely within her pussy, penetrating her all the way down to my balls as she groaned in uncontrollable pleasure. I doubt she had ever received such a strenuous fucking, but she was loving every second of it.

I spread her legs wide open and leaned down to kiss her neck passionately, smelling the hair under her ears as my moist lips pressed up to her skin. The sound of her panting in to my ear just turned me on even more, and after a minute or so I could hear the unmistakeable noise of an impending orgasm. She wheezed and cried out in ecstasy as her hips began to tremble, and then all of a sudden the extreme pleasure took hold of her and her eyes rolled into the back of her skull.

I continued to pound her even harder, relentlessly fucking her wet pussy as she squirmed with gratification on the bed. It was only when she came down from her breathless climax that I remembered I was supposed to be punishing her.

She went limp on the duvet and tried to catch her breath while I pressed her thighs up to her chest, exposing her insanely tight little ass hole. I didn’t want to have to keep struggling with her, so I took the belt and quickly wrapped around her legs, fastening it just under her knees and binding them up to her chest. She hadn’t even noticed what I was doing as she was still coping with the aftershocks of her intense climax.

I crouched in front of her ass again and pushed her cheeks slightly further open— they were already well parted by the position of her legs. Her vaginal muscles were still contracting and causing her labia to pucker up as I leaned in. I stretched out my tongue and licked over her anus once again, tasting the pussy juices as they flowed from her vulva and down through her ass crack.

Her cheeks were still red raw and burning with pain, but I continued to lightly spank them as I licked around her ass hole, prodding my tongue against her rim for a little while. I ran my finger around her pussy lips, lubricating it in her juices before pushing it through her sphincter. She tensed up as she finally realised what I was doing, and started to grimace and moan anxiously. I slid my finger inside her ass hole and pulled it out repeatedly, watching as her hole enclosed around it.

I stood up between her legs and rubbed the head of my cock around her quivering, wet vulva for a moment, coating it in a mixture of spit and her juices as I had done with my finger. I pushed my dick up to her ass hole and started to nudge it gently through the small opening. Her rim stretched around my cock as I pushed it through, expanding the soft ripples of her anus to a smooth, gaping hole.

The juices and saliva squelched out around the sides of my cock under the intense pressure of her tight anus as I started to thrust it in to her rectum, tunnelling my way deeper and deeper inside. With each insertion I was able to gain an extra quarter of an inch and after a minute or so of gruelling ass fucking I was burying my cock balls-deep in her colon. “Ah fuck, yes Toji— shit shit, ahh! fuck me like I'm a slut!” She started to scream loudly with each thrust that I slammed in to her ass, so I slapped her face again, sending a trail of saliva across the bed. She continued to groan noisily despite my defiant slapping, giving me no option but to silence her.

I reached down to the floor and picked up her thong, rolling it in to a tight ball as I jammed it between her jaws. She tried to clamp them together, but I squeezed firmly at her cheeks to pry them open and wedged the screwed up knickers between her teeth, holding my hand over her mouth and pressing her head back down to the bed as I continued to destroy her ass hole. I heard her trying to squeal in pain as my cock slid in and out of her anus, but the sound was nicely muffled by my makeshift gag.

I knew the ultra-tight young ass hole was going to make me cum soon, so I fucked her even harder and a few moments later I felt a great swell inside my balls. I moaned and stretched my neck, and she could see the veins protruding from the skin on my neck as I started to pump my hot, milky semen deep in to her ass hole. The orgasm seemed to last for hours and the cum shot out of my cock endlessly, oozing out between the sides of my shaft and the walls of her rectum.

I removed my penis from her ass and watched the thick, white fluid seeping out of her asshole. It was too hot of a moment not to get at least a souvenir, so I picked up my phone and took a few pictures of her hot, naked body and her obliterated pussy and ass hole.

“So, have you learned your lesson?” I asked, leaning over her exhausted body as I unstrapped the belt and freed her arms from behind her back. Her skin was marked with red lines from the various spankings and the force of being tied up so tightly. She laughed and said “I’ll have to steal from you again as I enjoyed the punishment,” she smiled sweetly.

“Good. So, same time tomorrow?” I said, helping her to stand up from the bed. Her legs were like jelly and barely supported her weight as she rose to her feet.

“Yes sir.” she said in a subdued but slightly naughty fashion. She tried to hide her smile as she reached for her clothes, but I caught it regardless. I was worried that I had lost a great babysitter, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Not only did I retain her as a babysitter, I gained her as a slave and that first encounter was just the tip of the iceberg.

425 notes · View notes

void-of-unparalled-chaos · 6 months ago

Text

Star Shoes

"Things had been going so well for him lately. He should have expected the other shoe to drop. Or the metal pipe in this case."

In which Danny and his totally normal boyfriend who is definitely not Red Hood are abducted by cultists. Danny is super concussed, but he's got the spirit.

@deadonmayn Day 2: Jason Has Magic | Ritual | Danny and Jason are abducted by the same cult | "You were never monstrous to me."

AO3 Link

One day! Danny had asked for just one day! One day free from ghosts and vigilante stuff! A single day off! Was that too much to ask?

In retrospect, he should have known something bad would happen. Things had been going too well for him lately.

Six months ago he began his degree in astrophysics at Gotham University. Since moving to Gotham, Danny and his apartment had yet to be caught in any sort of rogue attack or crime. It was certainly odd considering he was living in the crime capital of the country, but Danny decided he would take it.

Most of his classes were able to be taken online, which was much more accommodating for Danny’s schedule. Sometimes a baby ancient of space just had to stretch themselves out amongst the stars and let their form slip. Frostbite said it was important for his development. He even offered to write Danny a doctor's note, but something told him it wouldn’t go over well with the school.

Danny Fenton requires up to five days of star exposure per month or else he breaks out in fins and eyes that may cause you feelings of cosmic terror. Please excuse him from lecture.

Yeah. That would work.

He didn’t need a note if the lectures were online anyway.

The online lectures were also easier for him on bad tremor days. Sometimes his legs would ache and shake and randomly lock too much for him to walk. It was so much easier to float on those days and just… let loose. His human visage had begun to feel too small and restricting. He could put up with it normally but it itched. It was harder to stay restrained when he also had to deal with the tremors. Luckily for him, the bad days had been decreasing lately.

By far the best part of the past six months was Danny’s new boyfriend. Jason was great! Better than great! Jason was amazing! They had only been dating for a month but Danny swore if anything happened to Jason he would kill everyone in Gotham and then himself (again). He had a sharp way with words that never failed to make Danny laugh, and though he may seem rude and grumpy on the outside, he was secretly a big sweetheart.

Danny had once seen him cry because of a feral (possibly radioactive) Gotham rat that was “just too small”.

There’s really no repairing your facade after that.

Truly, Jason was everything Danny could ask for in a boyfriend. Danny had worried that the questionable functionality of his legs would be a turn-off, but he had been pleasantly surprised. Jason never pushed him past his limits, in fact, he fought to keep Danny from doing so. On the bad days, Jason would make him soup and drape heating pads over his limbs. He would knead his knuckles into Danny’s muscles and press kisses to his trembling fingers. It didn’t make the bad days stop, but they became more bearable.

Danny was so lucky.

So really, he should have expected the other shoe to drop.

Or the metal pipe in this case.

Groaning, Danny struggled to open his eyes. His head hurt like he had been doing shots for twelve straight hours and his mouth tasted like iron. He must have bitten his tongue. Or lost a tooth. They grew back so fast that it was honestly hard to tell.

“D…n..”

Someone was talking.

“Da…n…”

Someone needed to shut up. Danny hated that name.

“D…ny!”

Ugh.

Vision swimming, Danny peeled open his eyelids. This… he was in a pawnshop? Why was he in a pawnshop?

“Danny!”

Oh.

Jason is here.

Hi Jason!

“Hey, baby,” Jason huffed in amusement.

Did he say that out loud? Fuck. He probably has a concussion.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t with all the blood on your head.”

Blood? Danny tries to feel his face for it but instead finds his hands bound behind his back. He struggles to free them, not accomplishing much besides wiggling around on the carpet like a sad worm. He pauses once for breath and then resumes his wiggling in earnest.

Now hypothetically, Danny could just phase out of the restraints. One issue…

Jason was completely in the dark about the whole Phantom thing. They had only been dating for a month and like- how could Danny even bring that up?

Hey, just so you know I’ve died before and I’m technically still dead depending on how you think of it? Apparently I’m also a baby god which is news to me too so if that’s distressing for you imagine how I feel! And while we’re at it, I should let you know that your entire concept of the afterlife is probably wrong. Enjoy that crisis!

Okay, so Danny wouldn’t use those words exactly but that’s the gist of it. It’s some world-changing information and people have been dumped for less. Danny doesn’t want to scare Jason off!

And even if he was fine after that conversation, what about Danny’s other form? The one that Frostbite keeps calling his true form? It was… a lot, and he hadn’t been joking about the cosmic terror. If he were being honest, Danny barely felt human some days.

Danny allows his head to fall back to the floor with a thunk.

“Careful, darlin’,” Jason sounded concerned from where he was bound adjacent to him, “I think it's stopped bleeding. Don’t want you to open it again.”

“It’s fine. Worse than it looks.”

“...Do you mean better than it looks?”

“Yeah, that. Head wounds bleed a lot.”

It really was better than it looked. With Danny’s healing, it was probably entirely gone by now.

Jason looks like he is about to say something else when the backdoor opens.

In comes the most stereotypical cultists Danny has ever seen in his life. Actually, they were stereotypical but worse. The robes they wore looked plasticy and the black was off with a gross yellow undertone. Overall it was giving purchased off some shitty cheap website vibes. Like Wish.

They circle around Danny and Jason so perfectly synchronized that Danny knows they had to have practiced this. He imagines them running through their steps as if they were practicing for a dance recital. Did they have a choreographer?

“Why would we have a choreographer?”

Oh, Danny is speaking out loud again. Did he say the stuff about the robes?

“What’s wrong with our robes?!”

“I love you, baby, but I need you to shut the fuck up.”

Understandable. Have a nice day.

Danny passes out.

When he wakes up again they are in a different room. Jason is struggling against a cloak’s hold and cursing up a storm in true Jason fashion. The cultists look a little worse for wear. The one holding his boyfriend looks like he might have gotten into a fight with a weedwhacker.

“Touch one hair on his head and I’ll fucking kill you!” Jason snarls.

He’s largely ignored by the cultists who continue with their preparations.

Danny finally takes stock of where he’s at. He’s still on the floor, but the carpet feels slightly different. The room is bare compared to the one they were in before. A desk and office chair are pushed against the wall to make room for the summoning circle. A summoning circle that Danny was currently resting in. As an offering. Great.

Flashing lights distract him from their predicament.

The guy closest to Danny was wearing light-up sneakers. Danny didn’t even know they made those for adults. Neat!

“Hey man, where did you get your shoes?”

He can’t see the cultist’s face but he assumes he’s raised an eyebrow with the way the hood crooks to the side.

Danny genuinely wants to know! The lights look like little stars blinking in the darkness. He has to have them.

Danny is about to ask again but is cut off by a loud curse.

Jason?

Jason!

Danny has to save Jason!

He growls, eyes flashing for the briefest of moments before he can tone them down. Jason can’t know about Phantom. He’ll have to figure something else out. Actually, he might not need to figure anything out! Depending on who this circle summons this could be a nonissue.

Danny cranes his head to look at the circle.

Groaning, he allows his head to fall back against the floor for the third time that night.

This isn’t just any summoning circle. This is his summoning circle.

He lifts his head again to double check and yup, these idiots are using him as an offering for himself. Great job. Gold star.

This is both good and bad. Good because they are in no immediate danger outside of the world’s worst Grim Reaper cosplayers. Bad because Eldritch horror.

If these yahoos actually go through with the ritual and summon Danny, he’ll be forced into his ancient form in front of Jason. Probably. Danny wasn’t entirely sure that the ritual would work in the first place what with him already being there.

Danny spends too long thinking about the summoning logistics and not enough time actually stopping it. Before he can come up with a plan the cultists are chanting. He can feel the tug in his chest getting stronger and fins pushing against his skin. This was happening whether Danny wanted it to or not.

“Jason, close your eyes!”

“Danny!” Jason was still squirming in Weedwhacker’s hold and valiantly trying to get to Danny. His teeth snapped dangerously close to the cloak’s fingers. Ancients, Danny loved his boyfriend.

“Trust me, Jason!” Danny yelled, choking down the mist trying to escape from between his shark-like teeth, “Close your eyes!”

With one last glance to verify that his boyfriend’s eyes are squeezed shut, Danny lets go.

His very being unravels.

It feels good to be this big, no longer vacuum-sealed into a too-small bag. The fins along his tail flick, stretching now that they are no longer confined. The luminescent lights travel up and down them as if doing a calibration run. His body parts disappear into fine vapor whenever they move before reforming in their new positions. The very pulse of the universe thrums in his chest. He can feel so much. He can see so much. He lets out a cool, dead, misty breath.

His eyes open.

The screaming starts.

Danny grins, displaying his sharp teeth proudly. He flies through the air, knocking person after person to the ground. They fall like blades of wheat to a scythe, small and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Just a speck in the eye of a giant.

Jason’s eyes are still closed. Good.

Danny plucks him from Weedwhacker, setting him gently to the side. He can’t stop himself from getting into Weewhacker's face and screeching. He watches with satisfaction as he crumples to the ground seizing.

The screaming eventually stops, the cultists catatonic on the carpet. Jason’s eyes are tightly shut. He’s breathing heavily, unmoving from where Danny had placed him.

Softly, ever so softly, Danny covers Jason’s eyes with his hands, careful not to prick him with his claws. He winds himself up tight, shoving himself back into his body like clothing in an overpacked suitcase. Gradually his claws shrink back into normal human digits.

His fingers shake with familiar tremors, still covering his boyfriend's eyes. Danny breathes shakily as Jason’s hands slide over his own.

“Danny?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

He swallows hard, mentally preparing himself. Jason’s going to leave. Jason heard the screaming and felt his claws. He’ll see the cultists and know what he’s done. Jason knows what Danny truly is and he is going to leave.

“...Yeah,” it already sounds heartbroken as it leaves his lips.

Jason’s hands take Danny’s with care, removing them from over his eyes. He blinks, surveying the room and Danny knows this is it. He’s waiting for the look of horror or sneer of disgust he has become so achingly familiar with.

Jason’s eyes meet his own.

“Hey baby,” He presses kisses to Danny’s quivering fingertips with careful affection. Just like on the bad days…

Danny sniffles, turning away with watery eyes and grit teeth. He wasn’t expecting this last scrap of kindness from Jason.

“No no no,” Jason squeezes his hands with gentle pressure. Not enough to hurt, never enough to hurt. “Look at me, Danny. Please?”

Danny’s head pounds, his vision is blurry, his skin itches, and his heart hurts. He just wants this night to be over. But he could never deny Jason.

Jason smiles at him, hands coming to rest on his cheeks. He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb, smudging some dried blood away with it.

“There you are, handsome.”

More tears race down Danny’s face. His voice cracks, “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand, baby?” Jason asks, checking his hair for a wound that’s probably already gone.

“You’re still here.”

Jason pauses his minstations, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I-” Danny stops, addled brain thinking. Jason waits patiently for him to form the words, “I’m wrong. I’m not supposed to be like this,” Danny’s not sure how much sense he actually makes between the persistent concussion and rampant emotions, “I’m a monster.”

The look in Jason’s eyes turned steely, “You're not a monster, Danny.”

“But-”

“No buts. You're not a monster. You wanna know how I know?”

Danny remained silent, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Jason considers him for a minute then continues anyway.

“I’ve seen monsters before. Monsters do awful things with only themselves in mind. Monsters go out looking for someone to hurt just because they can.”

Danny turns to look away again. It doesn’t matter that the timeline is gone or if he’s trapped in a thermos, the very concept of Dan will always haunt Danny.

“Danny,” Jason redirects his attention, gently turning his face back to him. Danny’s not prepared for the pure unbridled devotion in his eyes.

“You are the most selfless person I’ve ever met. You go so far out of your way to help others even when it becomes an inconvenience to you. It doesn’t matter if they are a stranger or not. Sometimes I worry you're going to get yourself kidnapped.”

Like today goes unsaid. Jason looks like he’s on the verge of tears too.

“You were never monstrous to me, and you never will be. How could you possibly be a monster?”

Danny sniffles again, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch. Jason readily accepts him into his arms, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“Sorry…” Danny finally mumbles into his… shirt? Whatever Jason is wearing feels hard against his cheek. Danny doesn’t really care. His head hurts too much to think about it, “I shoulda told you.”

Jason quietly laughs, “Technically you still haven’t told me anything.”

Danny nods solemnly, wiping the last of his tears away, “Complicated.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he scoops Danny effortlessly into a bridal carry.

Danny yelps as the movement jostles his head. Jason makes a sound of apology.

His boyfriend’s eyes scan the room again, “How about you explain it all to me when you're no longer concussed? Besides, I have some things I need to explain to you too.”

“Sounds good,” Danny slurs as Jason walks them to the door.

They are about to step over the threshold when Danny suddenly REMEMBERS.

“WAIT!”

Jason startles, looking around wildly, “What?! What is it?!”

“The shoes!”

“The shoes?”

“Yeah! The shoes! The star shoes!”

“...do you mean the light-up sneakers?”

Danny pouts at him but nods anyway, “The star shoes.”

“The star shoes, then,” Jason easily confirms, “What about them?”

“I need to take em.”

Jason grimaces, “...Why? I can just buy you your own pair.”

“No! It’s not the same!” Danny whined, “They summoned me using me as an offering. I didn’t actually get anything!”

“Okay, I’ll go get his shoes-”

“My shoes.”

Jason laughs, setting him down on the table just outside the door, “Wait here.”

Danny waits. His vision is still swimming in a blur of colors. Colors. He’s pretty sure he can taste colors now. The dull brown carpet is disgusting.

Jason remerges victoriously with star shoes in hand. Danny cheers, immediately making grabby hands. Jason passes them over with a look of mild disgust.

“You ready to go now?”

Danny bats his eyelashes, throwing his arms (and shoes!) over Jason’s shoulders and around his neck. He presses in to rub his nose against his boyfriend’s, “Take me home?”

“Of course.”

Danny had the best boyfriend.

#Jason gets Danny a shirt that says “I was abducted by cultists to be used as a bargaining chip and all that I got were these stupid shoes”#My kitten Finley helped beta this fic everyone say “Thank you Finley”#deadonmayn24 #dom24d2 #dead on main #dpxdc #my writing #Star Shoes

430 notes · View notes

wannabespacesmuggler · 2 months ago

Text

L.H. | When You Call My Name

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Decades after the events of 1973, Logan finds himself drowning yet again at the bottom of the Potomac River. Luckily, you're there to help pull him out of his nightmare.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: depictions of drowning, mentions of death, discussion of nightmares, Logan's claws make an appearance, mentions of religious trauma and biblical imagery, mentions of abuse (it's on sight when I see you, William Stryker), mentions of self-deprecating thoughts, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, not really a warning but set after the events of Days of Future Past, loosely based on "Like a Prayer" by Madonna, Logan's POV, gender-neutral reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Author’s Note: So this one got away from me and my own religious trauma may have taken over a tad bit — sorry in advance (If you find comfort and solace in religion, more power to you. This is simply written from my own perspective and lived experience.) This came to me while listening to "Like a Prayer" by Madonna for the thousandth time since seeing Deadpool and Wolverine. Intended this to be shorter, but then I got possessed by some fanfic phantom and this was created. Super proud of the finished product though — hope you all enjoy.

As Logan’s eyes shoot open, he’s only got one thought running through his mind: his lungs are on fire. He attempts to move but is met with a sudden searing white pain shooting through his veins. His eyes, still adjusting to the eerie darkness surrounding him, search for the source of his injury. Panic rises in Logan’s chest as his gaze follows the metallic glint of rebar weaving through his body. He attempts to draw in a shaky breath, and his chest burns as water fills his lungs.

No.

It can’t be.

He’s drowning at the bottom of the Potomac River.

Logan wants to scream out of frustration, but it’s impossible. He has no more air left in his lungs, and he has no hope of reaching the surface to take a much-needed deep breath. Even if he could endure the agony caused by his body’s movements, the weight of the rebar Erik impaled him with is pinning him to the riverbed. He’s going to die here.

Cold. Alone. Suffering.

And yet, a sudden tranquility washes over his body and mind as he realizes that maybe he can finally rest in peace. He knows he placed his trust in the right people — somehow, Charles and Hank will find a way to stop Erik, and finally, the world will see that not all mutants need to be feared. He did his part — he brought everyone back together against all odds.

Logan knew the risks before Kitty sent him back in time, but there was no other choice. Because he also knew what the future would hold if he did nothing — he’d watch the sentinels eviscerate the last of his friends until he was the only one left. And that’s not a future he can live with. But what he can live with is no one remembering his life before 1973 as long as they’re safe — as long as you’re safe.

His body relaxes at the thought. He may not have a future with you in this new timeline, but knowing you’ll have the life you’ve always dreamed of puts Logan’s mind at ease. You’ll finally be able to live a peaceful life teaching at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters instead of being forced to play the part of a loyal soldier. Although Logan is deeply saddened by the fact he won’t be a part of this new life, he has more than enough memories of you from his timeline to keep him content in the afterlife.

Logan’s eyes flutter closed as he begins to feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. His regenerative abilities may be able to keep the rebar from killing him, but it cannot save him from asphyxiation. But before he can completely drift off, something grabs his body, pulling him towards the surface. Once free from the river’s grasp, he begins coughing up water. His body desperately gasps for air, and it feels like his lungs cannot get enough oxygen.

Logan finds the strength to open his eyes and takes in his surroundings. It’s bright — too bright. He blinks several times to adjust his vision to this sudden change. His attention gets drawn to the sound of several men talking in hushed voices. And as he looks up at his rescuers, the panic in his chest starts growing like a wildfire through his body. Logan might have let out a dry laugh at the sight if he wasn't in excruciating pain. Because instead of being met with any type of salvation, Logan seems to have been cursed with eternal damnation, no matter the timeline, in the form of William Stryker. Some things never change.

He’s younger than when Logan met him in his timeline, but as Stryker smiles down at him, Logan knows this is the same man — the same sick, twisted man he knows all too well. Panic turns into terror as he realizes what he’s about to endure. Agonizing years of torture and torment that he’ll be burdened to forget. He can’t do this again. Not after knowing a life full of not only hardship and loss but also friendship, laughter, and love. He can’t let Stryker take that from him — all those years of happiness. He can’t let him take you.

Stryker opens his mouth to speak, but instead of his condescending tone, Logan hears your voice call his name. Logan’s brow furrows at the sound. Maybe his extended lack of oxygen caused some sort of brain damage. But then he hears it again — a voice he’d recognize in any timeline. Your voice.

And suddenly, it hits him. This isn’t happening. There’s no river, no pain, no Stryker. This is a memory — a nightmare.

His eyes snap open, and his body jolts forward until he’s sitting up. He coughs hoarsely, as if his body is still trying to expel imaginary water, as he attempts to catch his breath. A layer of sweat has formed over his toned body, and his muscles flex as he rolls his shoulders back. He shakes his head roughly, trying to get a grip on reality.

And then you say his name again.

His head snaps up, and he looks at you with wild eyes. You’re standing across the room — arms wrapped around yourself tightly as you watch him worriedly. You take a hesitant step toward him. Logan’s brow furrows at your unsureness, concerned about what he might have done in his sleep. But then he follows your gaze to his extended metal claws, and your hesitancy becomes understandable. This isn’t the first time Logan’s claws have come out in the middle of the night. His eyes nervously scan over your body for any injuries he may have inflicted as he retracts his claws.

“Did I hurt you?”

You immediately cross the room as he speaks. Logan watches as you climb onto the bed and sit crisscross before him between his legs. You gently take both of his hands in yours and pull them onto your lap — the hesitancy long gone in your actions.

“No, Logan. I’m okay.”

He lets out a relieved sigh as he leans forward until his forehead meets yours. He takes a moment to simply relish in the warmth of your touch. Logan relaxes his tense shoulders and melts further into you as you draw lazy circles into the palm of his hand.

“Where’d you go?”

You pull away slightly to meet his eyes, and his breath hitches. Regardless of how many lifetimes he spends by your side, he’ll never get used to the fondness in your gaze as you look up at him. He remembers waking up in this timeline, thinking he actually did drown at the bottom of the Potomac River. Because this had to be heaven: having you tucked neatly into his chest, legs tangled up with his, steady breaths fanning across his neck. But as he felt you stir in your sleep, arms tightening slightly around his waist, he realized that this was real. He’d come to terms with his own death because at least his two hundred years spent suffering on this earth would mean something. But then he woke up from that nightmare, and he’s spent every day since then wondering when he’d inevitably be pulled out of this dream — waiting for history to repeat itself yet again. But he’s still here — and so are you.

“D.C., 1973.”

You hum quietly before bringing his hand up to your mouth and placing a tender kiss to his palm. Logan waits for you to ask another question about his nightmare, but you silently return to tracing circles into the palm you just kissed. He shouldn’t be surprised; you know him better than anyone by now — better than he knows himself. You know not to push him. And he appreciates it more than you’ll ever know. After years of having his autonomy stripped away, you wait for him to come to you — allow him to open up at his own pace. Soothe him whenever he feels that he is sliding backward instead of moving forward. Healing isn’t linear. This has become your mantra for him on the nights when he’s sure that he’s slipping back into the past — when he longs for the familiarity of his vices and self-destructive tendencies. And you sit next to him with relentless patience through the highs and lows as he continues to navigate and grieve the fifty years he lost.

He’s come a long way since he first woke up. And he still has a ways to go before he can say that he’s processed everything he’s lost. Truth be told, he’s not sure he’ll ever truly heal entirely from his past. But you tell Logan that it doesn’t matter. Every time he begins to think that he’s too damaged — too broken — you reassure him that you love him as is. But he still tries to piece himself back together, for your sake. Tries to open up — to show you that he trusts you more than anyone he’s known during his two hundred years across two separate timelines. And so he continues, letting you into the depths of his tortured mind.

“I was drowning. Again. And it all felt so real. I couldn’t breathe, and I was sure I was slipping into the darkness, but then Stryker was there…”

As Logan trails off, he notices how your body tenses at the mention of Stryker’s name. Your hands tighten ever so slightly around his, and Logan lovingly sweeps his thumb over your knuckles. He knows that name holds as much weight to you as it does to him. He knows about the years of abuse you endured at the hands of William Stryker. He vividly remembers when you confided in him. After months of running into each other in the middle of the night, Logan found you silently crying with your back pressed against the railing of your favorite balcony in the mansion. Without a second thought, he slid down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He didn’t know you — not like he does now. You’d recounted how you first met on Three Mile Island when Scott and Jean brought him to the mansion. And he was thankful for the small piece of his past that you gave back to him. But under the dim light of the night sky, you revealed precisely what you endured during your years of captivity at Stryker’s facility. And that night, Logan made it his life’s mission to get revenge against the man. Not for his sake. No — for you. He would tear Stryker apart limb from limb for what he had done to you.

“You aren’t there. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Although the words are directed towards him, he knows you’re equally trying to convince yourself of that fact. He knows that even though William Stryker is long dead — after Logan made good on his promise to you — he still haunts you. Unlike Logan, your trauma does manifest in the form of nightmares but insomnia. He thinks maybe this is why the two of you work. After years of feeling alone in this world, Logan finally found someone who understands him and what he’s been through. Although your torment isn’t identical, the similarity in your stories bonded the two of you together. You help him piece together the shared fragments of your past as you heal alongside him.

“I know, you pulled me out.”

Your brow furrows at his confession. He lets go of your hands and gently holds your face. Your face flushes as he openly admires you. The faint light of the single side table lamp that Logan had left on softens your features, making you look damn near angelic. Logan isn’t a religious man, but his mother was. He was a sickly child before his mutation restored his body. His mother would often sit by his bedside with a bible in hand. And on the nights when he wasn’t delirious from his fever, he would listen to his mother read to him. One verse always stood out to him: “God is faithful, and He will not let you be tested beyond your strength but with your testing He will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.” She meant for the words to comfort him, but the words only angered him.

He remembers finding himself down on his knees multiple times during his years as Stryker’s mindless, faithful soldier. Praying to that same God that his mother once trusted to save her baby boy from the illness slowly degrading his frail body. He begged Him for salvation — to be given the way out that was promised in the bible verse his mother once recited. But instead of an answer, Logan was met with silence. So if the years of physical and psychological abuse he endured were nothing but a test from the Lord above to prove his faithfulness, then that’s no God worth following.

“I heard you call my name, and it brought me back home.”

God never did anything for him. He didn’t bother protecting the innocence of a broken, misguided child. He refused to provide respite from the harshness of humanity. He never offered him any form of help or guidance during his times of greatest need — but you did. Without even knowing, you came into his life like an answered prayer.

Seemingly at a loss for words due to the intensity of his gaze, you grab onto the front of Logan’s t-shirt and pull him into a tight embrace. Your hands slide under the white fabric and slide across the contours of his back. He melts into your touch — finding relief in the direct contact of your skin on his. He’s never considered himself desirable, but you hold him like he’s something to be coveted. And then you murmur his name again. It’s barely a whisper, but the sound rings in his ears because your voice is heaven-sent.

“You’re a goddamn saint, you know that?”

A melodic laugh escapes your lips as you shake your head at his words. You pull away from him slightly and tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“I’m nothing special, Logan.”

You don’t mean it in a self-deprecating way. Logan knows that — knows that you simply see yourself as ordinary. But you couldn’t be more wrong. Because you might not actually be a saint or an angel, but you are the only person in two hundred years who’s managed to restore his faith in what this world has to offer.

“Well. You’re special to me, sweetheart.”

#logan howlett #james logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #hugh jackman #x men #x men fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine x deadpool #marvel #marvel fanfiction

239 notes · View notes

cipheress-to-k-pop · 7 months ago

Note

Hello, Happy Holy Ramadan. I know your request box is closed, but when your request box is opened, can you make this request? if it doesn't bother you, could you do Long Ramadan headcanons for Damian Wayne and the reader? I saw your Damian wayne x muslim reader post before. And I thought it was appropriate to ask you this. If this request bothers you, feel free to ignore it. Have a nice day 🩷🩷🩷🤚

Ramadan HCs

Muslim!Damian Wayne x Muslim!Reader

hey there sweetheart and Ramadan Mubarak <3! firstly i'm so sorry that it took me so long to respond to the ask! im ashamed it took me a year honestly. requests are closed but i still wanted to be able to write for this because we obviously need more muslim representation and also the last time i posted the muslim hc for damian there were just so many of the readers who texted me or sent asks or commented saying that they really appreciated the representation

anyways i wasn't sure if i was going to respond or not because it has been a year but since it is currently Ramadan and it's going to end very soon I figured why not

Thank you for being so respectful in your ask, I really appreciate it and I hope you like it. Hope you have a very blessed Ramadan and wishing everyone a lot of health and happiness during this time. Even to my non-muslim readers, I hope you all are doing well and you're all healthy <3333

also i know that there is a very slim chance of this happening because all of you are amazing but i will not tolerate any hate of any kind. if you

your first Ramadan after being married to Damian was certainly a new experience

before being married, you were just used to your parents handling everything for you

by the time you wake up for suhoor, the table would be set

by the time you'd be home from university, your mother would be waiting by the door with a date and a glass of water

so now that you were married and you had to handle everything on your own, it took a little bit of getting used to

luckily for you, Damian is a very hands on type of man

he's the kind of person who'd just drink a cup of water or a glass of milk, maybe a couple of dates or a fruit and he'd be ok for the remainder of the day

but god forbid you even think of doing the same thing

he'd just about have a heart attack

absolutely not

initially, he'd request Alfred to make meals for you so he could bring them home for the both of you to have suhoor together

just until the both of you got the hang of it

after that damian would either help you cook before patrol so there would be food ready for the both of you

or he'd swing by some restaurant that was open and grab some takeout for the both of you

he'd heat up the food and set the table and making sure everything was absolutely ready before finally waking you up

practically carrying your sleepyass to the table and handfeeding you so he can make sure you're eating properly

since he handles suhoor, you handle iftar and keep the table set so you can eat together

you could always just stay at the manor so you wouldn't have to worry about the meals, like bruce or dick have suggested so many times

but you prefer living alone with your husband

no offense to them at all

but it's just easier for you to maintain your modesty at your own home

anyways

your marriage gets really tested during Ramadan

the two of you are barely getting any sleep and it's difficult for you both to get used to

the only time that you both spend together and are completely present is when he should be patrolling

the lack of sleep makes you both kind of cranky

and it's difficult to not snap at each other

eventually you both get pretty tired and exhausted and just slip into routine

but of course it's nothing some sleep and some time spent together can't solve

and since you've been trying to reduce watching movies and listening to music during the holy month, you end up playing board games together or going for long drives together where you just talk and talk and talk

you thought you were extremely secure in your marriage

that was until you saw damian pout and give you the silent treatment after losing a game of gin rummy

then claiming you shouldn't be playing a game called 'jinn' in the first place

not swearing or talking shit during ramadan was especially hard for him

especially with tim and steph yelling 'fi ramadan?' at him everytime he makes even the slightest snide comment

you find it hilarious but i digress

whenever you go to the masjid for nightly prayers, damian and you will go and find a new ice cream place to try out late at night

you mention in passing how the women's side of the mosque is so bland compared to the men's and damian immediately looks into getting the mosque refurbished so that you and other women can enjoy it

damian's shoes get stolen once and the great detective actually couldn't find out who it was

you hear him complain about it constantly

CONSTANTLY

this time is when you both really lean into the adorable muslim couple aesthetic

matching prayer mats with each of your names embroidered on it

matching tasbih

and other things you get the picture

you both go all out for ramadan and decorate your home from top to bottom

since you both don't really celebrate many of the western holidays, he really wants to make this a memorable time for the both of you

and so do you

you hold an iftar party at your place many times with all your friends and family

it started out with you just inviting everyone but eventually it became a weekly potluck, which you really appreciated

bro damian is more excited about Eid than you are

he literally has to keep reminding you to get your dress ready for Eid al fitr

because he wants to get a jubbah in a matching color and surprise you

you know how you have those cute texts of girlies asking their bfs for their opinions on their nails?

the exact same thing

except with HENNA

you send him like 100 different pictures a week, planning which design you want to wear for Eid

he responds to all of them with utmost seriousness

obviously, he's an artist

he knows whats the difference between arabic and indian designs for henna

but secretly he's wondering why you're sending him so many when you only have 2 hands

but um hello he's never going to tell you that

because it's ramadan and obv ramadan related stuff is going to be appearing on everyones fyp he has to deal with both you and dick sending him videos of the scholars being funny (iykyk)

hey guys let's start ramadan w a bang

also has to deal with jason asking him CONSTANTLY how he's still able to walk around when all the demons are supposed to be locked up for the month

plus he has to now deal with you watching mukbangs and restaurant reviews and crying to him about how you're starving

why on earth did silent asmr mukbangs of wingstop get so popular only during ramadan?

believe me every single prayer damian makes during this month, he is thanking god for bringing you to him and praying for your health and your happiness

when you found out, you cried in his arms for a good solid 5 minutes

he also secretly kind of prayed for kids on laylat ul qadr but you didn't hear it from me

not only is this month really special for the both of you, you take it as an opportunity to give back

damian has wayne enterprises run soup kitchens for the entire month and they serve all people meals as well as suhoor and iftar

you both volunteer there personally

you donate money of course and damian will tell you that everytime he does it, he feels fulfilled in a way he never has before

you honestly feel so proud of the man you feel blessed to call your husband

also, like the perfect husband he is, he sends gifts and food to your parents

who quickly begin to regard him as better than your own siblings

much to his secret pleasure

uk i wish i could keep going

honestly ramadan is such a magical and rewarding time of the year

and you are so happy to spend it along with damian

P.S.

while damian completely understood the point of sacrificing a goat for Eid al adha

he still cried about it to you the night before out of guilt

you definitely donated the meat that came out of that

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

484 notes · View notes

buckysdollbarnes · 3 months ago

Text

you are in love series - part one

one look, dark room

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

warnings: mild language

word count: 4.7k

a/n: this is my first time EVER writing fiction, usually I only ever write academic papers so this is fun. :) I read over and revised this chapter so many times, so I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed and I'm excited to start on the next chapter.

a/n: also!! sorry for it being so long genuinely just so much had to happen in this chapter for it to be set up the way I wanted, which I think I did well enough. lmk what you think <3

Why did I think carrying this by myself was a good idea? It might be cute and a great deal, but I don’t think I'll be able to feel my arms tomorrow. I might need to hit the gym again before I find more bargains like this. Hell, maybe I'll even invest in a neck towel, because this heat is unbearable. I’ve been searching for some larger pieces to fill my apartment, and this vintage bar cart should fit perfectly. Just five more blocks to go.

Moving here alone has certainly come with its challenges: being on my own in such a big city, dealing with a lot of stress, and managing on a tight budget. But I’m determined to make it work though and prove everyone wrong. Growing up, you see so many romcoms where the heroine leaves everything behind to chase her dreams in NYC, landing a job at a magazine or fashion house, living in a gorgeous high-rise, and meeting the perfect guy. It’s a beautiful fantasy really, but the reality is much tougher. New York isn’t a movie set; it’s a real city with real people, and you have to work just as hard, if not harder, to be here. I know that, but it feels like a majority of my people back home DON’T know that I know that.

I came here for school. In about two months, I’ll be starting my Master’s program at NYU. I don’t think I’ve ever been as proud as when I received my acceptance email. I worked my ass off in undergrad to earn strong recommendations and good academic standing, and seeing it all come together was a huge relief—until the reality of the cost hit me.

Luckily, a friend's dad has a connection with a landlord in Brooklyn and got me a good deal on a place of my own. It’s incredible not to have a roommate in this market, especially in a place where your bed doesn’t touch your stove, though it can be a bit lonely.

Finally, reaching the stoop, out of breath, you set the cart down on the pavement. Wiping your brow, you notice the street is unusually quiet for this time of day. The city never truly sleeps, but the residential streets seem to take occasional naps. A little breath of air somewhere where it feels like oxygen is running out sometimes. Light filters through the trees, momentarily blinding you, and you turn back toward the building.

“How on earth am I going to get this up to my floor?”

Carrying it down the street was one thing, but hauling it up the stairs is a whole different challenge. Plus, who knows when the building's maintenance has last been here, the steps might not hold up under the cart’s weight. They usually feel like they could give away holding one person.

Deciding that falling to your death and being crushed isn’t really how you want to go, you open the double doors and drag the cart into the lobby, using the wheels on one side. Passing the main desk where the worker, who looks completely uninterested, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, you make your way to the end of the hall and start pulling the cart backwards up the incline of the stairwell.

“Nah, I can’t,” you say aloud, after struggling up two floors, letting the cart rest on the landing. There’s still three more floors to go, but your body is clearly telling you the cart belongs right here. Maybe the universe wants it to stay here—who knows, maybe the entire second floor needs a communal bar more than you do.

“Excuse me,” a quiet but rough male voice comes from behind me. You turn around to see him—a guy you’ve seen around your floor a few times, though you’ve never talked. One of the neighbors. You quickly realize you’re blocking the entire staircase.

“Sorry! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I’ll move this um — just give me a second.”

You shove the cart closer to the wall to make some space for him to pass, but he stays put, his gloved hands in his pockets. He’s definitely handsome—tall and solid, but not intimidating. His furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression don’t exactly scream “welcome,” but he’s still got a certain charm.

He shifts a bit, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Feeling a bit awkward under his gaze, you decide to try talking to him again.

“You can just squeeze by if you want. It’s just really heavy, so I’m taking a quick break before I try lifting it up again.”

After a moment, he seems to make up his mind and asks, “Do you need help?”

Looking back at him, you consider saying no. You pride yourself on being independent and capable, and part of you wants to insist you can handle it. But then you think about the struggle of getting the cart up the last two flights of stairs—only this time, it's three—and decide against it.

“You wouldn’t mind? You’re headed down, I’m sure you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

He gives a little smirk that makes you feel a bit dizzy.

“Well, I’m already here so.”

You nod slowly, a small smile appearing on your face.

“Sure, you can take this end, and I’ll get this o—” you start to say, but before you can finish, he’s already in front of you, lifting the cart with ease and starting up the stairs without breaking a sweat.

“Hey! Be careful, uh—,” you pause, realizing you don’t know his name.

He picks up on your hesitation and hesitates himself, considering whether to give his name. He’s wary of how others might perceive him, potentially recognizing his name from past news broadcasts or papers, still dealing with the shadows of his past despite his efforts to make amends. Not wanting to be dishonest, he chooses the safe option.

“James.”

“Be careful, James. I don’t want you tripping and falling on my account.”

“Won’t happen, doll.”

“What-,” you start, caught off guard by the pet name, “what if it does?”

“It won’t, see?” With the last few steps, you and James arrive at your floor. “Already here.”

He must have seen you around before too, to know where you live.

He gives you a quick look and then carries the cart to your door.

“This is yours, right?” He turns and looks at you expectantly. You rush over, fumbling for your keys to unlock the door. If he’s willing to move it all the way, who are you to turn him down?

You lead James into your apartment, wondering if it looks anything like his. The layout can’t be that different; it’s not exactly a luxury building.

He strolls further into the room.

“You can set it right here,” you say quickly. “Thank you for bringing it up for me. I was honestly thinking about giving up when you showed up.”

Setting the cart where you indicated, he straightens up, rolls his shoulders back, and gives you a look that feels intense.

“It’s no problem.”

His gaze wanders around your apartment, taking in the mix of vintage furniture and eclectic decor. On a student’s budget, you’ve filled your space with secondhand finds. It’s more affordable and personal that way. The place might not be filled with new things, but it’s entirely curated by you. Finding beauty in the mix of old and new is something you do well, and now, thanks to James, you have one more piece to add.

James’s eyes land on your turntable setup. He seems intrigued by your collection of records but doesn’t say anything, turning his attention back to you.

“I have to go.”

Your eyebrows lift at his abruptness. Sensing your surprise, he quickly adds, “I’ve got an appointment.”

You nod vigorously, urging him to go and thanking him again for his kindness. Feeling a bit sad that this chance encounter with your new neighbor is ending so quickly, you call out as he heads for the door.

“I’ll see you around then? Since you live here too.”

He turns on his heel, giving you one last smirk.

“Yeah, you’ll see me.”

As he heads down the stairs, you shut your door and lock it behind you. Wandering over to where James’s gaze lingered, you pull an album from the shelf, lift the acrylic cover on your turntable, and set the record down. You close the cover, push play, and let the needle softly drop onto the vinyl. As the music starts, your mind drifts back to James.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself hoping this isn’t a one-time encounter. You don’t know much about him beyond his name, but there’s something about him that makes you want to see him again.

“Two hundred bucks for this is crazy,” you mutter to yourself, staring in disbelief at the sofa you’re eyeing on Facebook Marketplace.

“People are practically giving this stuff away.”

Not wanting to miss out on such a good deal, you message the seller to check if it’s still available.

Since you got the bar cart about a week and a half ago, you haven’t picked up anything else. With the July heat blasting, just thinking about moving a sofa in this weather makes you want to rip off your skin to cool down.

You can’t help but think of James, who you’ve seen briefly in the hallway since your last encounter. He just nodded as he passed by, and that was it.

Your phone dings, snapping you out of your thoughts. The seller confirms the sofa is still available and offers to deliver it since they have a truck.

Excited, you reply with a yes, and they let you know they’ll head your way soon.

You get up to rearrange your furniture, making space for the new sofa. You don’t have much to move since you’ve been slowly collecting things. As you shift the pieces around, your turntable stops, signaling it’s time to flip the record. After you do, you take a moment to picture how the sofa will fit in the space.

Then it hits you—moving a sofa is way heavier than the bar cart. If you struggled with that, how on earth will you manage this?

“Independent woman, my ass.”

With the delivery imminent, you decide on the only solution you can think of. Without hesitation, you head to the apartment across the hall and knock softly on the door. You wait, hoping James will answer. After a moment of shuffling and then silence, you start to wonder if you should just try something else.

Just then, the door cracks open, revealing half of James’s face. He looks curious but not annoyed—no one usually visits him.

“Hey! James! Great to see you again! I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? I just bought a sofa from this marketplace deal, and the seller’s coming to drop it off right now. He said he’d deliver it, but didn’t offer to help get it up to my apartment. I realized a sofa is way heavier than a bar cart, and you saw me struggle with that, so I was kinda sorta hoping you could help me bring it up here?”

After your rambling, you offer him a hopeful smile, waiting for his response.

A few moments of silence later, that smirk you’ve been missing appears on his face. Opening the door wider, he comments with a grin.

“You bought another thing you knew you couldn’t get up the stairs?”

“I honestly didn’t think it through. The deal was too good to pass up. I’m really sorry for bothering you. I can try to find someone else if you’re busy.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, doll.”

The smile that blooms on your face is unavoidable.

As the delivery guy drives away, James shows you where to grab the sofa and effortlessly lifts the other end. He encourages you to take the lead, making sure the weight is on him as you both navigate the stairs. With minimal effort, you get the sofa up to your place.

After some awkward maneuvering, you finally get the sofa into your apartment through the thin door and set it down. You put your hands on your hips and exhale deeply, only to find James already looking at you with that same intense gaze from before. It makes you a little nervous.

You can’t help but feel grateful—there’s no way you would have managed this on your own.

“I could have handled the bar cart,” you say, nodding toward the cart now adorned with bottles in the corner, “but this? No chance. Thanks so much for your help.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. “I wasn’t busy.”

As you look at him, you start to feel like you know him from somewhere beyond being just a neighbor. Maybe you’ve seen him around the city before you moved?

Brushing off the thought, you offer, “You’ve helped me out twice now, and it doesn’t feel right not to return the favor. If your whole evening consists of not being busy, why not stay for dinner? I promise I’ll cook something totally good and not poisonous.”

James looks surprised by your offer but quickly hides it.

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe me anything,” he says, not wanting you to feel obligated or uncomfortable. He worries that his presence might not be enjoyable.

He wishes he could be as charming as he was back in the 40s. Being friendly used to come easily, and if he were still the same person he was at 26, he wouldn’t have left so quickly after helping you on the stairs the first time. He wouldn’t have had a therapists appointment to go to and he wouldn’t have a hidden arm made of metal. He’d have asked you to dinner or for you to let him take you dancing instead in return for his brawn. Now, he struggles to make new connections beyond a few familiar faces, like Sam, and asking someone for a dance feels out of reach.

“No, no! Stay, I insist! It gets kind of lonely around here, doesn’t it? Why not have a friend dinner?” you press, hoping he’ll take you up on the offer.

Seeing your sincerity, though still feeling a bit miffed, he finally agrees.

“Yeah, sure. I can stay.”

James settles onto the sofa while you work in the kitchen. You’ve decided on making some stuffed ravioli and garlic bread—easy, delicious, hard to mess up.

Before getting into cooking, you switch out the record, letting new music drift softly through the space. Unbeknownst to you, James watches closely, paying attention to how you handle the records and the turntable. The care you take when putting a record back in its slip, taking a new one out of its dust cover, and gently putting it on.

Seeing you focused on cooking, James gets up and strolls over to your setup. He runs his fingers lightly across the spines of the record sleeves, feeling a surprising sense of comfort. He hadn’t realized people still used record players so often.

The setup looks quite familiar to him, with many aspects reminiscent of the record players he used back in his earlier days. In his life before this one.

As you finish preparing the pasta and pull the bread from the oven, you call out, “Hey, food’s ready!”

You glance back to see James hovering by the turntable. He quickly moves to the table and sits down.

Over dinner, the conversation flows comfortably. James seems to be relaxing a bit, his initial reserve fading. He’s still somewhat guarded, but what he does share is genuinely interesting. You sense that opening up is challenging for him, so you respect his pace and take whatever he is willing to give. Laughing with each other a few times and getting through some odd topics, he mentions that he hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in quite a while and thanks you with a smile.

After a pleasant dinner, you decide to bring up something you’d been curious about.

“You like records?”

Caught off guard by the question, James tries to answer without revealing too much about himself. It feels strange to be here, knowing you don’t really know who he is, but he worries that being too open might scare you away. He decides to keep his secrets for now, selfishly hoping to get to know you better before revealing more.

“Yeah, I used to have quite a few records as a kid. My ma would play them too, especially when she was cooking, just like you. I didn’t realize they were still so popular.”

Excited by this glimpse into his past, you push further.

“Oh, there’s definitely a huge market for vinyl. Lots of people who think it makes them superior, but also a lot who just love the physical aspect of it.”

“So which one are you?” he asks.

You laugh and reply, “Maybe a bit of both.”

You glance up at him from beneath your lashes, catching his rare smile.

“But really, I just like having it. There’s something different about the listening experience. It requires more effort than just hitting play on a playlist. It’s about choosing a full album and actually sitting down to listen. That feels more intentional to me, and that’s why I do it.”

James seems to ponder your answer, his expression softer than before. He then turns his gaze back to the turntable.

“So, since you mentioned you had records as a kid, do you not have any now?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“Haven’t had any for a long time. Talking about it makes me miss them. Everything these days feels so complicated. I like simple things like that.”

Watching him as he looks away, you hesitate but notice the nostalgic shine in his eyes. You sense he might appreciate physical music even more than you do.

“If you ever get any and don’t have a place to play them, you’re welcome to use mine.”

He turns to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I mean, I know it’s not the most convenient offer, but it’s there. One record lover to another,” you add with a smile.

He returns your smile, saying, “Okay… thank you. I’ll keep that in mind, Doll.”

That night, Bucky lies on his makeshift bed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of the day. You knocking on his door for help with the couch, inviting him over for dinner, and all the easygoing conversation you shared. It was such a stark contrast to his usual rigidity. He'd let his guard down just a little—letting himself smile or flirt ever so slightly.

He wishes he were better at this. It used to come so naturally. Hell, before he left for war, he’d gone dancing with both his own date and Steve’s at the same time. Now, he finds himself listening to you talk while struggling to share anything of his own.

He doesn’t want to pass up your invitation, especially since you’re inviting him into your space again. Clearly, his reserve hasn’t put you off too much.

“What would I even bring?” he wonders aloud.

All he’s ever listened to is 40’s music and big band. He doubts that’s readily available these days.

Rolling onto his side, he grabs the cell phone Steve had insisted he get before he went back in time to live his real life, without Bucky.

“You can do anything on here, Buck!”

Scrolling through the three contacts he has, he taps on the name of the guy who’s been trying to reach him for weeks.

“So, is there a valid reason why you haven’t picked up my damn calls?” Sam’s voice comes through.

“Sam, hi.”

“Did you finally learn how to click the screen? Is that why I’m hearing from you now, old man?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the thing. Too confusing,” Bucky says, grimacing as he fiddles with the phone.

“Okay, okay, what’s going on, man? You doing alright?”

“I’m fine. I just have a question and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t harass me about it.”

“Is it about wizards?”

“What?”

“Wizards. Is the question about wizards?”

“No, what the hell. Look, I had dinner with one of my neighbors tonight—”

“Was it a girl?”

“Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters. And from that response, I KNOW it was a girl, so—”

“It doesn’t matter. She has a record player, which I didn’t know people still used, and she offered to let me use it, but I don’t have anything to play on it.”

“I’m not getting the problem.”

“I only like the stuff from the 40’s and—”

“Did you listen to that Marvin Gaye playlist I sent you?”

“Not interested.”

“C’mon, man, it’s good stuff. Give it a listen.”

“Not feeling it.”

“Alright, your loss, I guess. Still not seeing the problem though.”

“What do I bring? I can’t just bring around the stuff I know because where would I even get it?”

“Whoa, man, what do you mean, where would you get it? Just go to a record store and hit up the vintage section or something.”

Bucky pauses, mulling over Sam’s words.

“They have that?”

“Duh. You know, you could answer these questions a lot easier if you just looked them up on your phone—”

“Thanks, Sam. Talk to you later.”

Lying back down, Bucky decides that the next time he’s out to see his therapist, he’ll first stop by a record store to find something to bring over to your place.

Your easygoing presence was so comforting, and he found himself longing for it as he drifted off to sleep. He’d see you again soon enough.

Later in the week, as you wind down from a busy day, you focus on making your space as calming as possible.

You light some candles and turn on an orange floor lamp, the soft glow wrapping around you and setting the perfect mood to sink into your sofa with the book you’ve been neglecting.

You’ve just started settling into your reading when you’re jolted out of your half-nap by the sound of someone knocking on your door.

You get up and peer through the peephole, and there’s your dinner guest from earlier in the week.

Opening the door with a smile, you greet him.

“Hey James, unexpected visit! What’s up?”

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he speaks. You glance down and realize your outfit—shorts that really lived up to their name and a tank top—might not be the most guest-appropriate.

Brushing off your embarrassment, you look back up at him.

“I’ve got something I’d like to play, if that’s alright?”

Bucky’s mind races. Standing at your door, he worries maybe you only offered your place to be nice, and now he’s making a fool of himself. Of course, you didn’t want him there—he could barely talk.

Just as he’s about to get lost in his own head, your bright smile pulls him out of it.

“Oh my gosh, please, come in. What do you have?”

His doubt fades away as he sees your genuine excitement.

“Brought some Sinatra. Not sure if you’re into that, but I used to like his stuff when I was younger.”

You spin around abruptly, staring at him in disbelief.

“There’s no way you think I don’t know who Frank Sinatra is…”

Bucky stumbles over his words.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly new stuff so—”

“You think I wouldn’t know ‘Fly Me to the Moon’? ‘Singin’ in the Rain’? ‘New York, New York’? I mean, I even moved to New York—I had to get the romanticism from somewhere.”

“What are those?”

You pause, confused.

“Like, the most iconic Frank Sinatra songs. You are talking about Frank Sinatra, right? Not some other Sinatra I’ve never heard of?”

“No, you’re right, it’s Frank.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I guess I don’t know those ones.” He admits.

“So, what era are we talking about?” You ask, reaching for the record.

As you grasp the sleeve, you notice a glint of light catching James’s bare hand. Realizing he’s not wearing gloves, confusion sets in before it clicks. You HAD seen James before.

Looking up at him, he seems frozen, obviously panicking. He planned to tell you eventually, but not like this. Not when you weren’t close enough yet.

He thought there is no way you are going to want anything to do with him now.

You thought there is no way was there's an actual Avenger in your apartment right now.

You’re frozen, just like him, but more in shock rather than fear.

“Do you… usually go by James?” you ask cautiously.

Hesitating, he shakes his head.

“What do you usually go by then?”

Bucky feels anxiety creeping up his back. You’re both still holding the record, and he can’t tell if you’re scared or just surprised.

“Bucky.”

You stay silent for a moment while Bucky’s nerves are on edge.

“So… metal hand…”

Clenching his jaw, he replies, “Arm.”

“You’re that Bucky.”

“Yes.”

After a long pause, you start again.

“You’re an Avenger and you didn’t tell me?”

Bucky hesitates, his discomfort visible. “I’m— I’m not an Avenger.”

“What do you mean? You’re totally an Avenger! Why wouldn’t you tell me? How did I not recognize you before?” you ask, laughing in disbelief.

Bucky’s taken aback. You really thought he was an Avenger? You’re not scared of him at all, which surprises him. You must not know much about his past if you’re still standing this close.

“No wonder you don’t know ‘New York, New York,’” you say, almost to yourself. “It’s from after your time! This is crazy, I—”

You’re interrupted by his response.

“Are you not scared?”

“Of course not.”

Bucky closes in on himself, panic evident. “If you really knew me, you’d want nothing to do with me. I’ve—”

“I might not know the version of you you’re talking about, but I’ve met James, who helped me not once, but twice carry stuff he definitely didn’t have to up the stairs, stayed for dinner, has been very polite to me, and has given me zero reasons to be scared of him.”

He looks at you, his piercing blue eyes revealing an internal struggle. That one look holds more weight than his words. You can see the battle within him, torn between his past and the present moment.

“Listen,” you say, finally letting go of the record, “if you don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. But I’m not scared of you, and I actually like your company. So, regardless of whether you’re James, Bucky, or whoever, you’re still welcome here.”

You pause, adding, “And we can still play this if you’d like.”

Bucky struggles with his inner turmoil. The idea that you know who he is but still want him around is foreign to him. He doesn’t feel worthy of the kindness you’re offering, but it’s been so long since he’s received such warmth that it’s almost impossible to turn it down.

He’s not comfortable with his identity or his past, but in this moment, he wants to push it aside. If you don’t care, maybe he can allow himself not to care, even if just for a bit. Maybe he can prove something to himself, or even his therapist.

Handing you the record, he relaxes his face slightly. You’ve always thought him handsome, but in the dim light of the dark room, he looks almost ethereal.

You’re hoping he believes you because your excitement for his company tonight feels more significant than it probably should, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m Bucky.”

You smile warmly at this change. “Alright, Bucky. What do you want to do?”

He gazes at you deeply, his look sending a shiver down your spine and warming your chest. “Play it.”

a/n: well, hope this was alright. as I mentioned before, ive never wrote fiction before, but ive definitely read enough to get the gist.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader series #marvel fanfiction #Bucky Barnes slow burn

379 notes · View notes

etheries1015 · 1 year ago

Note

I'm not sure if requests are open or not but can I have more content on Twisted Wonderland x Obey Me. No preferences really, it can be anything like the demon boys reactions or even the reactions of our Twisted Wonderland acquaintances.

Maybe the reader could successfully summon one of the boys?

If requests are not open please ignore this.

Requests are always open, because I kinda pick and choose what I like to write and what I don't...so no worries! Thank you for submitting this request! I had a lot of people ask me to write another part about twst x obey me so...

click here for: Pt 1

Twisted wonderland X Obey me crossover where MC goes to twisted wonderland from obey me but has their full range of magical powers.

Only problem is, you finally figured out how to use it to summon the brothers, but now you had a whole other issue upon your hands.

TW: None

General warnings: Gender neutral reader, probably a lot of OOC moments, but I tried!

The day you managed to get in contact with Lucifer was well deserved. You had read and practiced all sorts of magic in your free time, Endless sleepless nights studying, and practicing. And it all has to do with...that mirror. You had managed to contact Micky through the mirror who lived in another world, so why not try contacting the brothers the same way? With a few sigils and a couple other magic tools given to you over time at NRC, you chanted your summoning ritual and the mirror glowed brightly. Next thing you knew, Lucifer was standing in the mirror in front of you.

"Lucif-"

"(Y/NNNNN)!!!" A bunch of voices cried out. Your magic worked a little...too well, because the next thing you knew you were being tackled by a hug. Err...many hugs. They had actually stepped out of the mirror, Asmodeus chocking you in a hug and twirling you around with tears streaming down his face.

"Asmo- Asmo stop! You guys can't-" you tried to warn them to go back through the mirror, however it was too late. The mirror returned to its normal state, and you now stood in your dorm room with 7 demons all in tow. Stuck there.

This can't possibly be good.

But luckily, with you somehow managing to break the laws of magic in Twisted Wonderland, all of the brothers were able to use their full range of magic. Including you.

Their reactions:

Lucifer

"Let me talk to the manager." After he finally sees that you are safe and sound feeling a wave of relief, he is immediately on the mission. He wants to speak to Crowley, which you tried to explain was...difficult. But this is Lucifer we are talking about, anything is possible with him around.

The moment he sees Crowley, he internally groans. The things you had said about him were indeed true, he was avoidant of your issues and was trying his best to downplay the problem at hand.

"How were they able to summon such magical beings...According to the dark mirror, (y/n) should be absolutely powerless, an average human with no merits." Crowley had said.

Lucifer was startled at this accusation, so what you had said about them not taking you seriously due to your lack of magical aptitude in this world...was correct as well. This made his blood boil, however he didn't feel the need to defend you. He knew you would have shown your worth regardless of this hiccup, he had full faith in your abilities in personality, despite what they believed to be "useless" or not.

Easily threatens Crowley. He demands you be given a proper living space with accommodations without treating you as some sort of slave to his issues, despite being under the impression that you had no way of using magic to assist you in your endeavors. You had dealt with him and his brothers enough, why must you be burdened with NRC students issues?

Crowley almost shit his pants bro. When lucifer went into his demon form, Crowley shrunk down in his shoes. The other teachers were the same honestly, they were also present during this meeting. They couldn't bring themselves to fight against the large wingged and horned man that emmited such power before them.

"You dare allow my little sheep to live with such horrible conditions and treated them with such avoidance... I suggest figure out a way to make up for what you have done. I also highly suggest you find a way for all of us to return, it is indeed your fault or whatever "magic mirror" that called upon (Y/N) that had made this mistake. I presume you will work with us to fix this issue?"

"Of course!" Crowley exasperated with a laugh of nervousness, "I promise! However, it is no small expense to-" No. Lucifer was not playing around. He was easily able to keep any big emotions in check, however when it comes to you...

"you WILL assist us. Or you can say goodbye to this school you call 'Night Raven College'- " A ball of light of immense magic began to swirl around his hand and his eyes glowed with deadly intent.

He left the building with a smile of success, leaving behind the teachers almost shitting themselves.

after settling business with Crowley, he ran to you. He had to make up for the lost time of course! You wouldn't be able to leave his grasp for a long while afterwards.

When you tried to ask what he spoke to Crowley about, he simply smiled and told you not to worry, he had it all handled. For now, he wanted to hold you in his arms, it's been a while since he had seen you after all, he needed to recharge.

Mammon

"Mannn, is there anything to do in this run down place?" He put up his feet on the table of the ramshackle dorm lounge, you were caught in his grasp. He had been holding onto you ever since he went through the mirror.

"Please don't cause me trouble here, too." You groaned, bags underneath your eyes, "This situation is bad as is, it's probably best you-"

There was a knock on the door. You sighed and got up, opening the door before revealing Azul. Your eyes widened, you totally forgot you offered to help at the Monstro lounge today!

"Hah? Who's this?" Mammon stood behind you looking down at Azul, who was equally as shocked to see him. But he quickly got over it, shaking his head before returning his gaze towards you.

"I believe we had a deal (y/n)..." Azul said with a glint in his glasses, "You had promised to help out today. Our prefect wouldn't flake out on their duties, would they?" Azul went to grab your hand to drag you out, however Mammon quickly grasped his wrists roughly with eyes slitted in annoyance.

"Who are ya and what do ya think you're doing putting your hands on what's mine?" He growled. You rolled your eyes and slapped your face. Here he goes. You can already tell where this is going.

"yours?" Azul shook his head in shock, "Huh? And you don't look like a student here," Azul pointed out, pulling his hand back from mammon, "Anyhow. Are you saying you will take the Prefects place instead? What would you have to offer me? Prefect is rather popular here despite their lack of magical abilities, and having them would really boost our sales for the week-"

"lack of magical abilities? what are ya on about? My (y/n) is super powerful!" Azul stared blankly before looking at you with doubt in his eyes. You turned your gaze away and sighed in defeat, you knew there was no way he would believe what Mammon had said.

"Well. Magic or no magic, I need somebody to take the job (y/n) had promised. I have a business to run, after all-"

"Oh so you're a business man, huh? Well look no further! I'm the Great Mammon, I have a lot of experience in these things. I'm a total cash grab, a model-"

Mammon went on about his accomplishments and proudly declared he was willing to make a deal with Azul, something you tried to talk him out of, but it was too late. He was already signing the scroll.

"Mammon!" You growled, "You are not listening to a single thing i'm- you know what, whatever. You do what you wanna do. Good luck."

Que Mammon being dragged off to do his manual labor...he will learn the hard way like he always does. Oh well. Leave it to Mammon to run off as soon as he arrived to try and make a deal with the worst person possible!

Leviathan

Hugging you so tightly. He missed you so much! But boredom soon took over. He had no idea what to do, you have no video games, not even a T.V In the lounge! How could you have possibly lived this way?!

"Here, I can call up Idia. He's probably the best person who-"

"You found a gaming replacement?!" Levi whined, "I thought you were my player two! But now you're staying up all night playing games and watching anime with someone else..."

You lightly punched the top of his head. "I didn't, you idiot!" You laughed, "We play games, sure, but you'll always be my player 1. I just don't want you to get bored while you're here."

You called Idia and he was so so so so so reluctant to do it. But it's you, of course. How could he say no? Ortho also did some convincing, saying it's good to find another recluse like Idia. But the trade off was you had to be there too.

Dude. They played games for HOURS in the Ignyhide dorm lounge, and you probably forgot something pretty important...

Idia was a gamer unmatched. Not even Levi could beat him at a lot of these pvp games, and began to become unnerved.

"Bro lol you're such a noob, hey (y/n) I thought you said this guy was good at games, why'd you send this guy? He's practically a normie-"

No way he just said that. THAT was Levis breaking point.

He summoned Lotan

He flooded the entire lounge

You had forced him to submit, and Idia was just staring....wide eyed...what the hell just happened...?

"You can use magic this entire time?!" Idia called out in shock after witnessing you submitting Lotan and Leviathan to your call. Levi did make note of this, however was far too upset and preoccupied by cleaning up his mess before he could mention anything about it.

He was banned very quickly, but now thanks to the giant sea monster, he really piqued the Leech twins curiosity (who happened to be in the mirror chamber at the time, when Lotan escaped Ignyhide and also flooded the chamber of mirrors.) Jade asked Levi to study Lotan and Floyd started admiring Levis Demon form. He's never seen such a cool tail from any creature before!

Levi was on house arrest. You wouldn't permit him to leave ramshackle, but he surprisingly made good and quick friends with the brothers. They were all quickly learning how to sew little outfits, which jade really enjoyed. Floyd was occupied by asking Levi all sorts of questions about Lotan and begging to touch Levis tail, before falling asleep out of boredom on the couch.

They managed to stay entertained with each others company somehow, but it worked out.

Satan

You knew he would be best occupied in the Library, where there was an entire pile of books he had never seen before. He was in heaven. How you managed to get him into the building without him being an authorized student? Crowley gave them temporary access, thanks to Lucifers (threats) negotiations.

He began going through each shelf and picking a bunch of books that looked interesting. He was mainly interested in the magic of this world

He emptied an entire book shelf and huddled into a corner surrounded by a mess of books.

Riddle came in to witness this, and was NOT happy.

"What do you think you are doing?" He confronted Satan. Satan glanced up and was at first upset he was interrupted, however seeing riddle...

"Cat..." Satans mouth dropped open

"Cat? excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?" Riddle folded his arms, "No matter. You are supposed to check out these books before utilizing them, and you do not look like a student here. As house warden of Heartslabyul I demand you put these back, or it's off with your head!"

Satan TRIED to explain to him in a civilized way that he was a special guest of the prefect and was given access to as many books as he desired, but Riddle did not believe him. and demanded some form of proof. Satan did not take well to this.

"I'm not going to take demands from a small cat such as yourself. I suggest you find someone else to bother," Satan returned to his book now ignoring Riddle.

"W-wha...EXCUSE ME?!" Riddle yelled, his face turned a bright red and pulled out his wand, "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" Next thing Satan knew he had a heart shaped lock around his neck.

He REALLYYY did not like that. The green aura that surrounded him startled Riddle as Satan stood up towering over him, demon form and all.

"I swear I-" He bared his teeth and raised his hand, before someone yelling "SATAN, SIT!" Caused him to gasp in shock and fall to the ground with a heavy 'thud', something that surprised Riddle.

You ran over and sighed shaking your head. You apologized to Riddle and explained the situation, to which Riddle took off the collar he had given Satan.

"Don't worry, Riddle. I will make sure I check out every one of these books and return them accordingly, I will take them to ramshackle for now as to not cause another...scene and disturb the other students."

Riddle was mildly satisfied with this answer and allowed you to do so, not without mumbling about being called a small cat...but no matter.

"how were you able to do that, Prefect? You made him submit," Riddle pointed out, "Without any magical power," He began to say. Satan quickly interrupted with a tilt of his head and a "Huhh??"

"(y/n) Is one of the most powerful human sorcerers," He pointed out, "Solomon is teaching them himself. They have plenty of magical aptitude," He told Riddle, much to his dismay.

You sighed and ignored the topic and Riddles confusion, dragging the pile of books to check out and leaving the library as fast as possible.

Satan spent the rest of the time in ramshackle sitting in a dorm room he found himself, and read to his hearts content. Not without asking you many questions about this world and the contents of some of these books

Asmodeus

The first one to hug you and twirl you around, and had a very hard time letting go.

When he finally did let go, he was nitpicking about everything.

"Oh my dear just look at those bags underneath your eyes! And that uniform...you just look horrible,"

"Yeah. not the first I've heard that," You sighed. When Asmodeus asked you to elaborate, you explained to him about Vil, the super star of NRC, and the person who liked to remind you how to care for your appearance.

Asmo was upset at first, until he met Vil. Annnddd fell in love. Until Vil pointed out Asmos "strange" choice of outfit, being his school uniform from devildom.

Asmo scowled at this and gave Vil a run down of every flaw Vil had, in the end, Vil actually began to see he was similar to Rook in a way, very observant in a persons design and look. Although Asmo did not have much tact about it.

"(y/n), how did you manage to become friends with such a magical person? He's practically oozing with magical charm," Vil pointed out. Not without Asmos confusion.

"What do you mean?" Asmo asked, "We have a pact! They are rather powerful, one of the many things I absolute love about our (y/n)~" Before you could explain further to Vil what Asmo meant, Rook had walked into the room.

ROOK. FELL. IN. LOVE. WITH. ASMO. Bro was enamored, he was shocked, jaw dropping, and eyes widening. He made it almost his life's mission to discover EVERYTHING about Asmodeus.

"Monsieur! I beg of you, let me study you!" he cried out, "I've never seen someone as mangnifique as you!"

Bruh. Right in front of Vil? Vil was kind of offended to be honest, but Asmo... he was loving this. Finally, somebody here that could appreciate true beauty!

Rook started listing everything he loved about Asmo, and when he asked Asmo where he was from and Asmo mentioned he was a demon, Rook lost. His. Mind.

Asmo went into his demon form, ironically this is when Epel walked in.

"What in tarnation is THAT?!" He cried out in his thick southern accent. Asmo did not like that.

"What do you mean THAT?" He scoffed, going up to Epel.

"Who's this sparkly lookin' guy with the horns? ya don't look like a fae to me..." vil scolded him for using such words, but Epel couldn't help it! He was beyond surprised at this being standing before him in his dorms lounge!

Asmodeus was pretty close to using his charm upon Epel, probably to convince Epel that he was as amazing as Rook pointed him out to be, but you quickly got involved and forced Asmo to stop.

"It's not that big of a deal," You sighed, "We all know how amazing our Asmo is..."

Anyway a little bit of back and forth, and all of the sudden Vil Rook and Asmo were all sitting in a circle like a bunch of little girls at a sleepover talking about Musical theatre, Beauty, and everything else that involved Asmo talking about himself. you and Epel were quickly used as their own little dress up dolls, they managed to find a way to occupy the time by having competitions on which party could make you and Epel look the best with what techniques.

Beelzebub

Coming through that Mirror on an empty stomach was such a bad idea. But not to fear! You knew the perfect person to help!

Trey. you had to beg Trey to make as many desserts as he could and that Beel would be probably the best person to taste test all sorts of things he baked. Trey honestly took you up on this, and whipped up a bunch of things he had been itching to try.

"They are really good, but Lukes treats are the best," Beel said with his mouth full of tart. He began to pick apart what was good and what was bad about every dessert he tried, however that did not satiate his hunger. He was so excited to try every single new thing that this world had to offer.

You guys ended up going to Scarabia, where Kalim was more than happy to share his culture and their food. Jamil ended up cooking a meal fit for a king as asked by Kalim. Kalim and Beel got along so well it was kind of sweet to watch....but eventually the food was all out in a matter of minutes, and Jamil had to talk some sense into Kalim.

"He has a healthy appetite! It's amazing, isn't it Jamil? Haha!"

Jamil was not very amused. It was obvious he was exhausted, so you all parted and said your goodbyes.

Ace Deuce Grim and you ended up going into town and stopping at the most popular restaurants.

"this guy is real beefed up, how did you manage to get so much muscle with an appetite like that?" Ace pointed out. Deuce agreed enthusiastically.

They spent probably two hours asking about all sorts of sports in Devildom and exercises, until Jack walked in and walked over.

"Jack!" You smiled. He walked over and greeted everyone with a gentle "hello," Before introducing him to Beel.

"I wonder who would win in an athletic battle between you guys," Grim pointed out. Their bets were on Jack, but of course you knew better than that. You knew Beel would win by a landslide.

they headed to Savanawclaw, and even Leona ended up getting involved after seeing Beel standing next to you.

"Whos this guy?" He pointed at Beel. You guys introduced each other, and Jack explained that they were about to have an athletic competition. They were going to do runs, hurdles, push ups, pull ups...honestly everything.

"What about a Spell drive competition?" Jack suggested. Leona pointed out that it would not be evenly matched, as you were magicless and Beel wasn't even from here.

"Huh? (Y/N) isn't magicless," Beel defended you, "They are actually really powerful. I mean, enough to have pacts with all of my brothers, even Lucifer" He smiled at you and patted your head. Leona began to laugh at you two, not truly understanding what Beel meant by that. Beels friendly demeanor faltered and he frowned.

He was confident in your abilities, so Leona finally agreed to a spell drive contest. They explained the rules, and began. Leona started out so confident, but was quickly humbled the second Beel turned into his demon form and went all out.

You two walked out victorious, leaving an absolutely shell shocked Leona and Jack behind. You and Beel had perfect teamwork, and won by a landslide. You were even able to showcase some of your magical abilities, something else that was unprecedented by the two NRC students.

"Thank you for sticking up for me," You smiled at Beel, "It's been a while since somebody did that to me.. Even though I had to make you sit because you were using too much of your power. You were gonna destroy the disk!." Beel gave you a warm wide smile before picking you up and holding you into a up into a tight hug.

"I missed you, (y/n). And Nobody should talk bad about you like that!

Belphie

Joined you, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and Beel on your outing to eat. Although when you guys ended up splitting ways at the point when you guys left with Jack. Belphie quickly departed to find a good place to sleep at ramshackle. He found a perfect tree for this!

He ran into Malleus. Tall guy, big horns...

'Who're you?" Belphie asked, looking down at the tall Fae from the tree he found to sleep in. Malleus looked up in shock, his green eyes staring at Belphie.

"Are you a new student here?" Malleus inquired, "I wasn't aware that child of man was taking in new students at Ramshackle," He pointed out, folding his arms. Belphie had an unnerved feeling about this guy.

"What do you mean 'child of man'?" Belphie yawned, "Are you talking about (y/n)?"

"Yes, I am," Malleus said, "And you might be?"

"Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth. Why'd you call (y/n) that?" he frowned.

"Well (y/n) is a human," Malleus pointed out, "I suppose I grew up in a more traditional Fae household, so many of the humans we tend to call "child of man"..." Belphie had no clue what this guy was going on about, but decided it wasn't worth his time. He started to doze off again until Malleus pestered him with another question.

"I came here looking for (y/n), He called up to Belphie, "Might you know where they are?" Belphie began to become slightly irritated at this point. He jumped down from the tree and looked at Malleus in annoyance.

"Why do you wanna know where they are? they'll be back soon," he pointed out.

A little bit of back and forth and passive aggressiveness not gonna lie...it escalated to the point where Belphie became so agitated at this guy and his "fancy" way of talking and the fact malleus kept calling you "child of man" or whatever, he turned into his demon form.

"Oh? A duel?" Malleus chuckled, levitating slightly with his arm lifting up and magic swirling around his hand, "Shall I take it you-"

"Belphie, sit!" Belphie gasped and was suddenly dropped down to the ground, you and Beel walking up to them.

"Oh, hey Malleus. I'm sorry if he was bothering you...what was-"

"ugh. This is so annoying," Belphie growled, "this guy here was calling you weird nicknames, and said you were a magicless human," He pointed out. Malleus looked at you with slight surprise at witnessing you drop Belphie to his knees.

"you...can use magic?" He asked, "How come I was not aware of this?"

"Of course they can use magic, idiot!" Belphie hissed, standing back up and protectively moving to hug you from behind. His head lay upon the crook of your neck, glancing up at Malleus with a light smirk upon his features. He was trying to test him.

With his lips forming into a thin line of frustration, Malleus took a step forward, not without Belphie using his tail protectively in front of you as if warning him to stay back.

"I don't like this guy," He pouted to you. Your tired eyes rolled to the back of your head, giving another apology to Malleus.

The commotion soon got the attention of the other demons, who then gathered in the courtyard and demanding to know why everyone around them was trying to say you were magicless. After a little explaining, each of the brothers were less than forgiving. This entire time you were powerless, and the students had treated you differently for it? Malleus was kind enough to recount a lot of the things the headmaster had put on your shoulders, while you were trying your best to downplay it. A bunch of the other students had ended up gathering around ramshackle as well, witnessing Each and every one of the brothers now in their demon forms, the immense amount of magic traces had caused quite a stir among the students. Even the housewardens had shown up, hearing down the grapevine of the events that were unfolding. If you hadn't done something and done something fast, things could easily go south. So, you did what you thought was all you could do.

"SIT!" You yelled as loud as possible, each of the brothers dropping to the ground with a yelp. The magic power that was gathering around was now coming from...you. Murmurs were heard between the students, eyes of shock filling their eyes and unbelievable amount of students actually had pulled out their wands, obviously feeling threatened by your sudden showcase of strange magic they had never seen before.

"I'm afraid, my dear students, this has gone too far!" A voice cried out in the middle of the chaos. Crowley had walked between his students until he made it to you, staring down upon your figure with a look of annoyance and sigh.

Crowley declared there was a way for you to return home, and summoned the mirror in which you used to get them back in the first place. Lucifer couldn't help but scoff and sneer at the headmaster.

"Now, please explain, why have you suddenly found a way for us to return when you haven't been able to sort a way out in the year our (y/n) has been in this dreadful place?" He roared in anger. Crowley shrunk down and tried to laugh it off, playing it to be nothing short of a coincidence.

"Enough..." you sighed, annoyed, "Let's just get this over with and go back home."

"Indeed! what our prefect said! Although, you will be strongly missed, (y/n). You were incredibly helpful in dealing with- I mean- supporting our students! With you gone, I'm not sure what we will do! Oh Woe is me!"

Ignoring his obvious attempts to keep you there to handle his students, you said your final goodbyes to everyone you had made friendships with. However attached you may have gotten with these students, it was inevitable that you had to return to the Devildom, where you truly belong.

Thus ends your journey with Twisted Wonderland!

----

I'm sorry that ending was a little bit rushed, I was having a hard time figuring out how exactly to go about it! But, despite this, I hope you all enjoyed this despite it's length. If you have any more suggestions or ideas for a crossover, please let me know! I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions.

i'm also so bad at writing belphie lol he's my least favorite brother ngl so i'm not that good at embodying his personality. L.

Check out my masterlist for more of my works!

1K notes · View notes

supernovafics · 11 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 (𝟏)

PART ONE | PART TWO

pairing: singledad!steve harrington x divorcedmom!fem!reader

word count: 9.4k words

summary: in which you hate him and he hates you— and that mutual disliking is perhaps the only thing you and him agree on. you make it your mission to avoid and ignore steve at all costs, and nothing more or less than withering stares and annoyed eye rolls are shared among you both whenever you have to see each other, which luckily isn’t that often. but when your son and his daughter end up in the same first-grade class and quickly become friends, it forces things to change between you two. it means that you and him also have to be friends, or, at the very least, tolerate each other’s presence. which is something that is much easier said than done

warnings: modern!au, enemies (to friends) to lovers, steve and reader are in their late 20s/early 30s, bestfriend!eddie, mentions of cheating/an affair (reader’s ex was an absolute asshole), explicit language, some angst

author’s note: i had the idea for this lil two part mini series (and have been working on it on and off) for like a thousand years at this point and i'm so glad and excited that it's finally free from the jail cell that is my google docs lol. i really really wanted to finish this and have it up before this year was over, so part two is coming new year's eve<3333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

For the first time in the past two weeks, you were early. Granted it was only by two minutes, but you still counted that as a win.

You stepped out of your car and headed to where the other parents were on the sidewalk, waiting for school to be over and the kids to come out. You inwardly ran through the list of things that you still had to do today— on a Friday that should’ve been calm, but instead, it had been pretty hectic.

It felt like pure luck that you were able to step away from your coffee shop for thirty minutes to pick up Oliver from school. God bless Jude for being willing to take over the rush that was happening. She was your favorite employee, and you knew that she definitely deserved a raise for being able to effectively keep up with the insanity that the last two weeks brought.

That transition from summer into the beginning of the new school year was harder than you had anticipated, and you knew it was mainly because this time last year you weren’t running a business full-time when Oliver had been starting Kindergarten. Instead, the coffee shop was still just an idea, a dream, that felt like it solely lived in your head; even though it had actually been in its final stages, and with each passing day, you only got closer and closer to that October opening date. And when the long-awaited opening finally came, it actually didn’t alleviate an ounce of your stress; instead, it was only increased practically tenfold.

You’d never say it out loud for fear of being deemed as a bad mom, but it was so fucking hard juggling everything and trying to handle it all.

However, somehow, you were doing it and you were actually doing it pretty well. Although at most times it felt like you were so close to drowning, for the time being, your head was completely above water.

You kept running through your mental to-do list as you waited for the time to go from 2:29pm to 2:30pm, indicating the official end of the school day.

Call the vendors that supply the coffee beans and teas and see if they can change the next delivery date, finalize the work schedule for next week, prep the ingredients for the pastries that will be baked tomorrow—

Your eyes instinctively went to check the time on your watch right as the first handful of kids came barreling out of the front doors.

When you saw Olly, you waved until his eyes landed on you and he immediately smiled.

Suddenly, you couldn’t care less about the time and the rest of the shit that you needed to do throughout the day.

“I made a new friend!” Were the first words he said to you when he came over to where you stood.

“That’s awesome!” You kneeled down so that you were pretty much at eye level with him. Hearing him say that made your heart feel so happy. You knew how shy he could be and he rarely ever talked about any kids that he was friends with, especially not with this much enthusiasm. “Who is it?”

“Maddie,” He answered and then pointed in the direction of where you assumed the girl was standing.

There were a handful of kids standing with their parents in the direction Olly was pointing to about ten or fifteen feet away, but when he further specified that she was “the girl holding the blue lunchbox,” you saw her. A girl with brown hair who was smiling at her dad who was smiling back at her and holding a hand up so that she could give it a high five.

You recognized him immediately.

In your mind, his name was “the worst person in the world.” In reality, his name was Steve Harrington.

You didn’t really pay attention to him until this past January because your kids weren’t in the same Kindergarten class. You actually didn’t even learn that he was the only other single parent in the grade until then.

It was one of your New Year’s resolutions to become more active and involved in school activities, PTA meetings, etc. Mainly because you knew that the other Kindergarten moms were judging you for barely doing anything aside from the occasional bake sale and the school was way too small for you to slip under the radar and not be noticed; those moms noticed everything.

Therefore, on the first meeting back after the Winter holiday break, you were there— five minutes late, but there nonetheless. Although, it could’ve been assumed that everyone thought you were an hour late with the amount of withering looks you received when you entered the gymnasium.

You offered a small apologetic smile and made a mental note to never be even a minute late again.

Leslie, the PTA president, was droning on and on about what big things were planned for the second half of the school year— somehow dragging out a short list of things that you thought could’ve been simply sent out in a mass email— when Steve walked in fifteen minutes after you. You fully expected him to receive the same type of annoyed looks that you had gotten, and maybe even more because he showed up later than you, but he got nothing but happy smiles from the majority of the moms.

That complete opposite reaction severely confused you and you wondered how he was able to receive such niceness when all you got was the coldest of shoulders.

Meeting after meeting it was continuously proven that he was the favorite among the moms, and it didn’t take you too long to learn why. He was a charmer, which everyone absolutely loved, and he seemed to effortlessly throw money at any school activity or fundraising event, another reason why he was so goddamn adored.

You were probably the only one that didn’t give a fuck about his charming personality, and instead, you would inwardly roll your eyes or scoff at pretty much anything he’d say and how easily the moms ate it up. Because when you really looked at it, you two were pretty much doing the same exact things— only moderately participating in events, showing up to the big monthly meetings instead of the weekly ones (and he was still always late to them), and not signing up for fields trips or activities that happened during school hours because of how overly demanding your jobs were; you’d learned from one particularly chatty mom that he worked at a pretty intense marketing firm. However, there was such a stark difference in treatment because he was the “hot single dad that gave a lot of money;” all of the moms practically fell at his feet and seemed to only tolerate you.

Maybe it was a hint of jealousy talking, but he still always managed to piss you off and you didn’t like him at all. It was an animosity that was perhaps just one-sided, and you hated yourself for caring so much, but that changed in April; during a moment where if the circumstances were different, it would’ve felt like some sort of romcom-esque “meet cute.” But, you basically despised Steve, so instead the whole situation just made your blood boil.

It was a Thursday at almost five o’clock during parent-teacher conference week; it was the only day that could work in your insanely busy schedule and you managed to get the latest time slot with Oliver’s teacher. You were pacing in the hallway where all three of the Kindergarten classrooms were; a coffee in one hand, because it was the only thing keeping you going that late in the day, and your phone in the other as you texted back an employee who was having problems with the oven. You were seconds away from calling him— because you knew that the issue would probably be solved quicker if you did so— but before you could, you were bombarded by someone who was quickly coming around the corner and they crashed into you. The abrupt collision was forceful enough to make your drink spill on you and your phone slip out of your hand.

You glanced down at your now coffee-stained white shirt and then up at the person who had caused this mess, and of course, it was Steve Harrington standing in front of you. You had to fight the immediate urge to roll your eyes.

“Oh, shit. My bad,” He quickly said. “I’m minutes away from being late for my parent-teacher meeting, so I was rushing from the parking lot. Now it really does make sense why teachers always said no running in the halls, right? Because something like this can happen.” As he rambled, you picked up your phone off the ground, glad that it wasn’t broken, and then you tossed your now mostly empty coffee cup into the trash can nearby. When you looked back at him, you saw that he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. “Anyway, maybe I can pay for your dry cleaning? Or so you can at least get another coffee later or tomorrow?”

If it had been anyone else, you would’ve thought that the gesture was nice. But, since it was coming from Steve Harrington it only pissed you off because, of course, money was his immediate thought solution.

That time it was too difficult to not allow yourself to roll your eyes at him. “Y’know, throwing money at everything doesn’t make you a good dad. It actually makes you kind of an asshole.”

You knew that you were being a little too harsh, but it was still too hard to feel completely regretful about your words; you were pissed at this current situation that was fully caused by him and you were also pissed simply because he was him.

You weren’t sure what you expected Steve to respond with, but he easily matched your angry energy. He narrowed his eyes at you. “Well, at least, I can do something. You barely show up to things and can’t give money to make up for it, so how much of a ‘good mom’ does that make you?”

Before you could say anything in response to that— a response that probably would’ve started and ended with a simple “Fuck you”— you heard your name being called from behind you by Oliver’s teacher. With everything happening with the man in front of you right then, you’d almost forgotten the meeting you were at the school for in the first place.

Instead of saying anything to Steve, you simply buttoned up the black cardigan you were wearing to cover the majority of the coffee stain on your shirt and then walked away from him, putting on a smile and greeting Miss Wilson.

It wasn’t outwardly stated right then, but it was pretty much sealed then that this disliking could no longer be confused for being something that was one-sided. You two hadn’t said any words to each other since that moment in the hallway, and instead only annoyed looks and glares were shared anytime you saw one another; which lucky for you, actually wasn’t too frequent.

On the first day of school, you learned that his daughter was in the same First Grade class as Oliver due to the emergency contact form all the parents had to fill out, which was then condensed into one sheet and shared among everyone for “just in case” purposes, and Steve’s name and number was on there. You really didn’t think it would be that big of a deal because you could still avoid him like the plague that he was, and that was exactly what you’d been doing for the last two weeks.

However, you did not think that your kids would become friends.

“Can we have a playdate tomorrow?” Oliver asked.

You racked your brain for a response; a way to say no without actually saying it because you really did hate disappointing him. “Oh, um, this weekend is gonna be really busy. But, maybe soon though, okay?”

He frowned a bit but still nodded. “Okay.”

You held out your hand so that he could slip his in and then you started heading to your car.

“We have to go back to the coffee shop for a few more hours before we can go home. But, how does pizza for dinner tonight sound?” You asked as you buckled him in his car seat. The offer was an attempt to cheer him up and you hoped it worked; probably like every other six-year-old, Oliver loved pizza.

He smiled at that. “Ooh, yeah, that’s good.”

You smiled back at him and inwardly hoped that this playdate idea would blow over over the next few days. And that the thought of you having to spend any sort of willing time with Steve Harrington would become a scary thought that only occasionally haunted your dreams, instead of it being something that actually became real.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Of course, it did not blow over.

Excuse after excuse would fall from your lips, but Olly was determined and your words of “Today’s really busy” or “This weekend probably won’t be good” didn’t discourage him from continuing to ask.

As the days came and went and a week passed with Olly asking the same question each day, you were so close to sucking it up and calling Steve and finally setting something up, but you were still way too fucking prideful to do so.

That didn’t stop you from thinking about doing it most days, though. But it was easier not to think about it when you were busying yourself at the coffee shop, and it was almost too easy to make yourself busy in some way there. And that was something that didn’t change on this Friday.

Oliver was sitting in his favorite booth working on homework and you were behind the counter, making a simple hot chocolate for the older woman who would come in almost every afternoon, typically around four o’clock.

“Enjoy,” You said with a smile as you handed her the drink.

Things in the coffee shop were calm and quiet, and you were about to go see if Oliver needed any help with the worksheets he was doing, but then your phone started vibrating in your back pocket. When you grabbed it, you saw that it was a random number calling, and maybe you should’ve thought about that fact more before answering, but you didn’t.

“Hello?”

“Has Oliver asked to have a playdate with Madeline?” You quickly recognized Steve’s voice.

You let out a small sigh. “At least once a day since last Friday.”

“Same here with Maddie,” Steve said and then let out a sigh of his own. “We need to let this happen. I don’t think either of them are gonna let it go.”

At first, you didn’t say anything in response to his words. You wanted to disagree with Steve, but you knew that you couldn’t because it was the truth. And then there was the fact that every time you gave some sort of fake excuse to Olly, you would feel like the worst parent ever, so maybe it would be best to just finally let this happen. “You’re right. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Yes,” He answered. “We can just do a quick thing at the park if that’s good?”

That was exactly what you were about to suggest, but you didn't tell him that. “Yeah, that’s fine. Is twelve okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Steve didn’t say anything in response to you and instead simply ended the call there. The lack of an actual goodbye almost made you want to roll your eyes in annoyance, but you didn’t because you knew that you probably would’ve done the same thing to him.

You put your phone back in your pocket and walked over to the two-person booth Oliver was sitting at, sliding in across from him. “Hey, bud, I have really fun news. You and Maddie are finally gonna have your playdate tomorrow.”

Seeing the elated grin immediately take over his face made the fact that you’d be spending a few hours with Steve Harrington tomorrow worth it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You never thought you’d witness a moment where Steve was actually on time for something, but for once he was. When you pulled into the small parking lot of the park, you already saw him sitting on one of the wooden benches that surrounded the playground watching Maddie go down a slide.

Moments after the car was put in park, Oliver was unbuckling himself and rushing to get out so that he could head over to where Maddie was. You could only smile at his enthusiasm before telling him to slow down and be careful.

You took your time walking over to where Steve was because of how much you were dreading it, and for a moment you debated whether or not you should sit next to him or go to the bench that was empty and a few feet away. Ultimately, you decided to just sit next to him; you could be civil for a couple of hours.

“Hi,” You said as you sat down on the wooden bench.

He looked at you just for a second before turning back to the playground. “Hey.”

“How are you?” You asked. It was always easy to go into the mundane small talk you’d have all day with customers; aside from the ones that were the regulars that you knew too well and couldn’t simply ask how they were doing without actually meaning it.

“Good,” Steve responded. “You?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You answered with a small nod.

A silence that could only be deemed as awkward began to linger in the air because it felt as if there was absolutely nothing else to say. If he was a customer, you would’ve simply taken his order and he would have walked away by now, but obviously, this wasn’t that kind of interaction. The only sound that could be heard was the handful of other parents with their children and your own kids looking happier than ever.

It could’ve been easy for you to make some joke to Steve about how weird this entire situation felt because of how much animosity you had toward each other and now there you two were on a sort of playdate of your own because of your kids. And then the two of you would have laughed about this current set of circumstances, and maybe that would’ve allowed things to actually start to feel somewhat okay. But, it just felt way too hard to let yourself actually be civil toward him, even though you had told yourself that you would be.

“I’m very surprised you’re actually on time for something. After all the PTA meetings, I thought you were incapable of it,” You said, still staring straight ahead as you then took a sip from the water you had in your hand.

“And you’re late, which is not surprising,” He told you with a small scoff.

Aside from that first time you had been late for the meeting, there was one other time where you were late again and, of course, that was also the one time where Steve managed to be a little bit earlier than you. Given that he had been late countless times, you felt that it was both stupid and unwarranted for him to use the single time he saw you late against you.

“Whatever,” You said as you rolled your eyes. “Not that I even owe you an explanation for being only five minutes late today, but the coffee shop was starting to have a rush right before me and Olly were about to leave, and I didn’t want to leave my employee right then to completely fend for himself.”

“That’s interesting because every time I drive by the place, it looks the complete opposite of busy.”

Perhaps this entire conversation immediately taking the shittiest turn was your fault because you “fired the first shot,” but his words felt equivalent to a low blow. You pretended as if you were completely unaffected by them and tried your hardest not to recognize the slight validity behind them— the coffee shop had its peak times and also its deserted moments, and maybe sometimes it did feel a bit more deserted than not, but you were surviving and right then that was all that mattered you.

You glared harshly at him although he wasn’t even looking back at you. Muttering a “Fuck you” was right on the tip of your tongue, but you bit it back and instead got up from the bench and started moving to an empty one. Steve didn’t say anything else to you and instead seemed completely unfazed by you walking away from him.

You watched Oliver and Maddie talking and laughing at the top of a slide that was big enough to fit both of them and they went down it together. Seeing how happy Olly was and knowing that this was the first friend he actually wanted to spend time with outside of school, made dealing with Steve’s bullshit right then completely okay with you.

When two o’clock rolled around, you were waving Oliver over to you, much to his dismay.

“I know it’s time to go, but can we all get food together?” He asked when he walked over to you.

For once, the excuse for saying no that you were about to tell him wasn’t a made-up one. “We gotta go pick Eddie up from the airport, remember? Also, he told me that he has a bunch of cool stuff to give you from California.”

“Oh, yeah,” Oliver said, a smile taking over his face. “I almost forgot he was coming today.”

He went over to where Maddie was now standing with Steve and he gave her a quick hug goodbye before running back over to you.

Instead of giving any sort of verbal goodbye to Steve, you simply gave him a small wave. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that you’d now probably have to see him more often than not. With how happy Oliver and Maddie looked playing together, you knew that today definitely wouldn’t just be a one-time thing.

Somehow with the wave Steve gave back to you, you could tell that he knew that too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You were in no way related to Eddie Munson, but he felt more like family than your actual family.

He was the first person you met when you moved to Hawkins three years ago. After going through a messy divorce that felt like it had actively taken at least ten years off of your life, it felt so goddamn nice to immediately make a friend in this town that was completely new to you.

Coming from Chicago, a city that had always felt way too big for you, any small town sounded perfect in your eyes, and you were able to find a cheap-ish house in Hawkins, so it was the winner.

You met Eddie at a grocery store a week after you’d moved in. It was also your birthday, a fact that three-year-old Oliver didn’t fail to tell Eddie when you accidentally bumped into him— quite literally crashed your cart into the guy— in the bread aisle.

“Happy birthday,” He had said to you and you gave him a small smile before proceeding to say another sorry for bumping your cart into him. He then looked at Oliver. “Are you gonna bake a birthday cake for her?”

Oliver visibly brightened and turned to you. “Ooh, yeah, can we bake a cake?”

“Sure,” You nodded and smiled at his eagerness.

He smiled widely and then looked back at Eddie. “Can you come over and help us make it?”

“Oh, um…” Eddie’s eyes met yours to see what you wanted him to say.

“You can, if you want,” You told him and you genuinely meant your words. He seemed normal, and even though this was a small town, he was the first person who had been so outwardly nice to you and Olly.

“Okay, yeah, I’d love to help,” He said with a nod. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

You told him your name and then gestured to Olly. “And this is Oliver.”

“Sorry for suggesting this idea and contributing to the sugar high that will probably be happening tonight,” Eddie told you as you moved to the next aisle where all of the baking stuff was, you were giving Oliver full reign over what cake mix you got.

“Apology not accepted,” You responded but still smiled at him.

Many hours later, when the cake was baked and Oliver was tucked away in bed after having two pieces of it, you pulled out a bottle of wine for you and Eddie to drink. And then because of the wine and because of the fact that birthdays always managed to bring something severely melancholic out of you, you started crying to him about your divorce that had just been finalized, the affair that your husband had with his coworker being the catalyst for said divorce, and how you felt so weirdly alone in this new town but also not at all alone because you had Oliver.

Somehow none of that managed to scare him away— even though you would’ve been completely understanding if it had— and a friendship had been cemented ever since.

Eight months ago, he moved to California because of a huge opportunity he got with his music; it was something he had been waiting for for so many years. You had called it a “big break,” but he thought that sounded too pretentious.

You hadn’t really wanted him to leave, he was your best friend— your only friend in this town— but you were also so happy for him. And the distance actually managed to feel somewhat okay because you two would talk all the time and he’d visit every few months.

Oliver especially didn’t mind the distance because whenever Eddie did come back to Hawkins for a visit, it always meant that he’d get some cool new toys from him. And this time proved to be no different.

The three of you were in the coffee shop. It was quiet right then— you didn’t think about Steve’s words from earlier— and you watched Eddie smile at Oliver as he animatedly talked about something, you assumed he was telling Eddie about Madeline.

Moments later, Eddie walked over to where you stood behind the counter, beginning the clean-up process because you were closing in about an hour.

“It’s really nice seeing how fucking– I mean fudging,” He turned around to see if Oliver heard what he’d just said, but Olly was too busy playing with his new red toy car to hear anything. “Happy he is. All he’s been doing is rambling about his new friend.”

“Yeah, it’s really great,” You said, smiling as you thought about how happy he had been at the park earlier. You then thought about Steve and inwardly sighed. “Well, for the most part.”

“Why? Is she a bad influence or something? I didn’t think there could be bad influences in first grade,” Eddie said and then laughed a bit. “Actually, scratch that, I was definitely a bad influence in first grade.”

An amused look crossed your face. “You talk a lot about this “bad boy persona” you used to have, but I don’t know if I really believe it because all I see is a guy that actually enjoys buying toys for a six-year-old.”

He smiled at that. “I changed. Turned over a new leaf.”

“Mhm, got it,” You responded, your voice slightly sarcastic because it was still hard to imagine Eddie as anything other than the nice guy who baked a cake with you and Oliver on your birthday. “Anyway, though, it’s not the girl that’s the problem; she’s really sweet and nice. It’s her parent that’s the worst person in the world.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay, tell me all about this mean mom drama.”

“It’s a dad, actually,” You said and then started explaining everything that you had never said aloud before. You told Eddie all of it— how Steve was so easily able to throw money at anything the school needed, how he was basically treated like a King among the other moms because of that, the incident that happened last year during parent-teacher conference week where everything between you two fully came to a head, and the shitty conversation you had with him at the park only hours earlier.

“Wow, I’ve missed a lot. I can’t believe you have a nemesis, and I also can’t believe you never told me about him.”

“He’s the last thing I ever want to think about, let alone talk about. If it wasn’t for Oliver becoming friends with his daughter, you wouldn’t be hearing about him. Also, I feel like “nemesis” is a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I can call him your mortal enemy, if you want,” Eddie said with a teasing smile and you only rolled your eyes in response, refraining from flipping him off. “What’s his name? Maybe I know him. Aside from you, people rarely ever move to this town for fun, so he’s probably been here his whole life.”

You actually never thought about the potential of Eddie knowing Steve, although it was completely plausible given the reason your friend just mentioned.

“Steve Harrington.”

“Oh.”

From Eddie’s reaction, the answer to your next question seemed pretty obvious but you still decided to ask it. “You know him?”

“Yeah, we were in high school at the same time.”

“Okay, what was he like?”

“All the typical high school stuff. He was a popular guy, played sports, was kind of a jerk but pretty much all of the girls still loved him.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “That sounds very accurate.”

“By the end of it, though, he seemed like somewhat of a changed guy. Got his heart broken by the nice girl, and then became friends with actual good people,” Eddie told you, and that was the one part of his description of the Steve that he had known that managed to actually surprise you. “I didn’t know he had a kid now.”

“Yup, and he’s also changed back into the jerk that you originally knew him as in high school,” You said. “And the most fuc— fudged up part of it all is that we should be friends. Which probably makes me sound crazy because of everything I just said, but it’s true. Me and him are basically in the same boat— the only single parents in the grade, we both have time-consuming jobs, and now even our kids are friends with each other. It would just make sense if we were actually friends too.”

“I mean, you still could be, right?”

You immediately shook your head. “Wrong. There’s no way that could ever happen.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The rest of September and most of October flew by with what felt like an abrupt kind of quickness.

Absolutely nothing changed between you and Steve, even with Eddie’s idea that maybe it could. The only time the two of you talked to each other was if it involved your kids and if you were setting up the day and time for another park playdate, which quickly managed to become a weekly thing because of how adamant Oliver and Madeline were— just like you assumed they’d be.

It may have seemed a little weird, these brief conversations you’d have with one another that were nothing more and nothing less than transactional, but it worked perfectly for you two.

“This weekend is gonna be pretty busy for me, so is tomorrow after school good?” You asked Steve. A PTA meeting had just ended and you and him were lingering by the same exit that the kids would come out of when school was over.

You were pretty close to not showing up to this Thursday night meeting, but you knew that you had to because it was about the Winter Carnival happening in December. It was a huge event that would be an “all hands on deck” kind of situation, which was why they talked about it so far in advance and why attendance at any meeting discussing it was pretty much mandatory.

Steve shook his head at your question. “I have this big work thing tomorrow, so I have to pick up Maddie and then drop her off at the babysitter before rushing back to the city.”

You nodded understandingly at his words. A part of you knew that you should have left it at that, because you tried to set something up and that should’ve been more than enough of an effort, but instead, you found yourself saying, “I can pick her up and take the two of them to the park tomorrow if you want.”

Steve was quiet and your words simply lingered in the open air. You almost regretted making the suggestion because you felt as if he was somehow going to find a way to be a dick about it, but then he looked at you curiously, and another look that you couldn’t decipher crossed his face too as he said, “You sure?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, it’s really no problem.” And it honestly wasn’t a problem in the slightest; Madeline was the sweetest girl ever. She reminded you nothing of Steve, so you assumed that she got her personality from her mom; you still had no idea what that entire situation entailed. “What time will you be done with work?”

“Hopefully around five or six,” He answered. There was still that look on his face, which you still couldn’t tell what it said, but you really wanted to know.

“Okay, after the park, I can take them back to my house and you can pick Maddie up from there when you’re done with work,” You said, only a little surprised at how easily this idea came together. “Olly’s been wanting to show her his new fish, anyway.”

“Yeah, I think she’s mentioned his fish to me probably a thousand times. It’s blue and purple, right?”

“Yeah, it’s a betta fish; Barnaby.”

“Barnaby?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea how Olly came up with that name, but I will admit that it does sound more like the name of an old sailor lost at sea rather than a fish. But, in some weird way, both of those things are actually kind of related.”

Steve laughed at that and somehow it didn’t sound the least bit mocking or condescending, it was more amused. Hearing that sound coming from him shocked you as much as it, surprisingly, made you inwardly smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The amount of dark clouds in the sky didn’t necessarily faze you until a raindrop hit your cheek as you sat on a park bench watching Oliver and Madeline on the playground. It was a light drizzle that transformed into something heavier in a matter of minutes and you realized that you probably should’ve been more mindful of what the weather was going to be today.

Neither of the kids really minded the rain putting an end to their time at the park though, because Oliver was happy to go home so that Maddie could finally see the fish.

They bounded up the stairs to Olly’s room the second you unlocked the front door, and you headed to the kitchen, sending a simple text to Steve in the process.

You: Had to leave the park because of the rain. We’re at my place now

At first, the lack of a response from him didn’t surprise you because it was only around four-thirty and he was probably busy. He was also Steve Harrington and he rarely ever responded to you in a timely manner.

You heard the sound of footsteps racing down the stairs and you looked up from your phone, after checking it for probably the hundredth time in the past hour, to see Olly and Maddie coming into the kitchen.

“Can you convince my dad to get me a fish?” Maddie asked as she and Olly joined you at the small dining table.

You smiled and nodded at her. “I can try.”

“Thanks,” She said, smiling back at you. “The only time I get to see any pets is at my Aunt Robin’s house. She has a golden retriever.”

“Oh, that’s really cool. What’s its name?”

“Willow. She’s a girl.”

Oliver looked at you. “Can we get a dog next?”

“Let’s just worry about Barnaby for now,” You told Olly, giving him a small smile. You could only imagine how much more hectic your life would become if you two got a dog anytime soon. “I was thinking about doing dino nuggets and french fries for you guys for dinner. How does that sound?”

They both perked up at that and nodded and you got up to turn on the oven, purposefully leaving your phone on the table because you wanted a break from impulsively checking it every few minutes. It slightly annoyed you that you heard nothing from Steve yet, and it annoyed you even more that the lack of a response felt personal. You wondered if he actually hadn’t seen your message yet, or if he was simply being an asshole and not responding with a simple “Okay” or even a thumbs up to it on purpose.

It wasn’t until the time was a little after six, and you still hadn’t heard anything from Steve, that your initial annoyance toward him not responding to you and not giving you any sort of updates on what was happening with him over the past few hours, morphed into something that resembled worry.

You walked out of the living room and into the kitchen and pulled your phone out of your back pocket so that you could call him. Your gaze moved toward the window as you pressed your phone to your ear; the weather outside still looked pretty shitty. The call went straight to voicemail and you sighed as you waited for the beep.

“Hey, um, it’s me. That’s probably very obvious. Um, anyway, you said you’d be done with work around five or six, but I haven’t heard anything from you in the last couple of hours… I hope everything’s fine. Um, any sort of update would be really nice. Call, or at least text me, whenever you get this. Okay… Bye.”

You hung up and slipped your phone back in your pocket.

It was an obvious fact that you didn’t like Steve Harrington, but that didn’t mean you wanted anything bad to happen to him.

The only thing that managed to not make you feel completely worried was that Maddie seemed okay and not worried at all. Instead, she and Olly were in the living room playing in the fort you made for them out of couch cushions and throw blankets.

You went back into the living room and sat down on the small loveseat that was the only piece of furniture that still had its cushion left.

“You guys okay in there?”

“Yup!”

“Yes!”

Hearing their chorus of happy “yeses” made you inwardly sigh in relief and lean back into the chair, letting your eyes shut just for a second and muttering to yourself that everything was and would be fine.

Your phone was still glued to your hand as you grabbed the remote with your other and turned on a random Disney movie for the kids to listen to as background noise and for you to take your mind off of Steve, even though all you were waiting and hoping for was for your phone to vibrate in your hand with a call or text from him.

You didn’t realize that you’d fallen asleep in the chair until you were startled awake by the sound of the doorbell ringing. The abruptness of it actually managed to scare you, so much so that you could immediately feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears when you opened your eyes.

The second Lilo & Stitch movie was now playing on the TV and through your half-awake haze, you found the remote to pause it. You then peeked inside the fort and saw that Olly and Maddie were asleep.

As you rubbed the slight tiredness out of your eyes and got up from the couch, you checked your phone and saw that the time was 8:11pm. The doorbell rang again as you unlocked the door and the first thing that you noticed when you opened it was that it was no longer raining, you were unsure when it had finally stopped.

“Hi.”

Seeing Steve standing in front of you managed to immediately wash away the worry you had been feeling for the last couple of hours. And it was quickly and completely replaced with the annoyance you’d initially felt. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Hearing a genuine apology come from Steve Harrington’s mouth actually managed to baffle you. “My meeting at work ran over, and there was no way to get out of it, not even for a second. And then there was a ton of traffic because of the rain, so a drive that typically only takes thirty minutes took longer than an hour. Also, I have the worst and probably oldest phone in the world because it never holds a charge anymore, and it was plugged in during the entire drive but didn’t turn on at all. So, I’m really sorry that I haven’t been able to call or text or anything. These past few hours have been hell.” He let out a sigh and then looked at you, concerned. “How’s Maddie? Is she okay?”

There were a lot of words that had been thrown at you during Steve’s ramble, but hearing his full explanation and how apologetic he was made your annoyance with him dissipate into nothing just like your worry did. Instead, you felt a little bad for him because of all the shit he had to endure in the past few hours. You pushed the door open further to fully let him in.

“She’s good. She’s okay. She and Olly are sleeping in the living room. I made them a little fort,” You told him as he walked in and you pointed to where the kids were in the living room, and he nodded when he saw the construction of couch cushions and blankets.

You looked at Steve and hesitated for a moment. You knew that this was where the goodbyes for the night should’ve started, but it didn’t feel right to have him leave just yet; he still seemed sort of frazzled and stressed about everything that happened. You started heading toward the kitchen and he followed you. “Do you maybe, uh, want something to drink?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, I have water and juice boxes,” You told him and turned around to meet his eyes, he was leaning against the small island. “It’s moments like these where it sucks being the “good influence/leading by example” parent because I can’t offer you something fun, like a soda.”

Steve laughed a bit; it still felt so foreign hearing that sound from him. “A juice box is fine. That’s probably all that lives at my house too.”

You grabbed one from the fridge and then closed it. “I hope you like apple.”

“My favorite, actually,” He said as you handed the drink to him, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but you didn’t have enough time to really ponder that before he completely changed the subject. “How was Maddie when you picked her up? When I told her about it this morning, she seemed excited about it and about hanging out with Oliver after school too, but was she really okay?”

You nodded at his question. “She was great. They both had fun at the park and didn’t even mind the rain because they really wanted to come here and see the fish.”

He smiled and you could see the immediate relief wash over his face. “Okay.”

“She also wants me to try and convince you to get her a fish.”

“Of course she does,” He said before taking a sip from the juice box. You had to admit, it was a little funny seeing a man wearing professional clothes, that were probably so expensive, drinking from a tiny juice box meant for little kids.

“I’m honestly kinda surprised that you pick her up every day,” You told him as you turned and went back into the fridge to pull out a water for yourself. “Given your job, I thought you’d just have a babysitter or someone pick her up most of the time. I had no idea it was half an hour away.”

“I didn’t used to do it… Her, um, her mom would,” He said and you could tell by the way he said those words that whatever happened involving Maddie’s mom was a touchy subject. It sounded similar to how you’d usually sound whenever you talked about Oliver’s dad— a little sad and a lot like you’d rather talk about anything else.

Your mind started desperately trying to think of a way to change the subject; it was what you would’ve wanted him to do for you if the tables were turned. But, before you could say the first thing that came to mind, which was, “So, I wonder if it’s gonna rain tomorrow too,” Steve started talking again.

“It had become a routine because of how hectic my job is. She’d always drop Maddie off and pick her up. But, she, uh… She left last year, so that changed everything,” He told you. You closed the fridge and turned around to face him; you forgot to grab your water but that was the last thing on your mind right then.

This conversation suddenly felt like completely uncharted territory between you and Steve because you two did not talk about touchy subjects— you and him barely talked about anything at all. But, for some odd reason, you didn’t necessarily mind the serious turn to the conversation because maybe it was a shit ton of honesty that was needed for you two to actually, finally, not dislike each other.

Steve ran a hand through his hair and pulled his eyes away from yours. He instead fixed his attention on his juice box in hand. “It happened around this time in October. She dropped Maddie off at school, but didn’t pick her up.”

Hearing him say that surprised you as much as it confused you because you had absolutely no idea that happened last year. But with how busy you’d been then, and since you weren’t friends with any of the “gossipy” moms that somehow always knew everything, it did make a little sense why you knew nothing.

“Maddie was waiting in the office for about two hours after school was over before I could get there because I was in a meeting and didn’t see the calls coming from the school. She didn’t really know what was happening, but she was still so sad and I think that somehow a small part of her did know.” He shook his head and sighed, a look that could only be deemed as melancholic crossed his face. “I never want her to feel abandoned like that again, so I always make sure to drop her off and pick her up now.”

As he said his last words, something managed to shift inside of you in a matter of a split second. Suddenly, his name was no longer “the worst person in the world” in your mind.

In all of your months of having this “nemesis relationship” — as Eddie would call it— with Steve Harrington, you never thought that your opinion of him would ever be able to change. However, in this moment of you two standing across from each other at your small kitchen island as Steve held a freaking juice box in his hand, it finally did. He was a good person, a really fucking good person.

You were able to see it so goddamn easily then— the exact ways that he and Maddie were just alike. She got her personality from him, you were now quite literally certain of it. And you immediately felt bad for ever thinking differently.

“I’m sorry about what I said last year during conference week,” You told him, suddenly ready to give him your own burst of honesty. “I was pissed that you spilled my coffee all over me, and I was even more pissed because it was you, and you annoyed me so much. Because even though we’re kind of in the same boat with the amount of “active” things we do for the school, all of the moms love you so much and I swear they hate me, and it’s just so annoying.” You let out a small sigh and then met his gaze before saying the words that you didn’t think you’d ever say to him. “Anyway, you’re a really good dad, and I’m so sorry for telling you differently.”

“I’m sorry for what I said that day too. You’re a really great mom,” He said, giving you a small smile, and it slightly shocked you how much hearing that meant to you. Aside from Eddie, you couldn’t remember the last time someone said that to you. “And I don't think the moms at school actually like me. I think they just pity me because of everything that happened, and how they basically saw it all blow up in real time. Since pre-school, Maddie’s mom was dropping her off and picking her up, and suddenly one day she was completely gone. I swear the number of times I got phone calls that were a bunch of them saying, “We’re here for you,” but they really just wanted to get the full story about what happened, was insane during those first few months.”

“Jesus, small town moms are the worst,” You said as you shook your head. “Or, at least, ours are.”

You looked away from Steve and turned around, finally going back to the fridge to grab a water. “Oliver’s dad was kind of the same way. He left too. Or maybe it’s actually not the same because I made him leave— he was having an affair with his coworker. But, he also wanted to leave and be with her, so maybe it actually is a little similar. Sorry, now I’m just rambling about that asshole,” You said and rolled your eyes at yourself. You weren’t sure why you even decided to circle the conversation back to your exes.

“Do you and Oliver ever see him anymore?” Steve asked, and when you closed the fridge and turned back to face him, you shook your head at his question.

“Not since we moved here. He does the bare minimum and sends Olly checks for his birthday and Christmas. Which I think is dumb because no kid wants a check as a present; even I would rather get an actual gift than a stupid check,” You told Steve as you opened up your water. “Does Maddie ever see her mom, or does she ever come around sometimes?”

With the way she left, you were almost certain that the answer was no, but you were still curious.

“No, she hasn’t, and I don’t think she would ever want to,” Steve answered and you gave him a small nod of understanding before he continued. “I remember about a week after everything happened, and after avoiding my many calls and texts, she finally called me. She was really apologetic about the way she decided to leave, but she said that she just couldn’t do it anymore because none of this life that we had here was making her happy, and she didn’t want me to try and convince her to stay. When she said that, it made me realize that the smallest part of me knew that this would eventually happen. Maddie was completely unexpected and our relationship had already gotten pretty bad before we found out, so neither of us was remotely ready to be parents, but we still decided to do it and try to make it all work. Right when I saw Maddie for the first time I knew that she was the best thing that ever happened to me and I couldn’t imagine my life without her, and that never changed. But, it wasn’t the same way for her mom, and sometimes it seemed like she felt the complete opposite way. So, in a way, I can understand why she knew she had to leave. I hate the way that she did it, but ultimately I understand that this wasn’t the life she wanted, and she’d never want it.” A sad smile took over his face.

“We don’t have to keep talking about this if you don’t want to,” You told him, suddenly feeling bad that you had been the one to bring the conversation back to this in the first place. “We can change the subject to anything else. Maybe the weather? I wonder if it’s gonna rain again tomorrow…”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said. “I really never thought I’d say this because we’ve never had a real conversation before, but I think I actually like talking to you.” He shook his head at his words. “I’m sorry, that probably sounds fucked up.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I feel the same exact way. Ten minutes ago I couldn’t really stand the thought of having any sort of conversation with you, and now I feel like an idiot for hating you all this time. So, this is insanely fast progress,” You said and then immediately thought of something. “Wow, I really wish I had some alcohol for us to drink right now because us actually not despising each other anymore is a milestone that truly should be toasted to.”

Steve laughed a bit; it was nice hearing that sound after all the sad stuff that had just been shared by both of you. He raised his juice box toward you a bit. “This will have to do, I guess.”

You raised your water and “clinked” it with the juice box. “Cheers to… whatever we are now.”

It didn’t feel entirely like a friendship, but it, at least, felt like you two could actually be nice to one another and not feel pained to do so.

“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a quick nod and then finished off the rest of what was left in his small juice box. “I should grab Maddie and head home. She has dance class at eight in the morning. She hates it for the most part, but she has a recital next week and I told her that she should push through until that and then we can quit. A part of me is kind of glad that she hates it, though, because classes are insanely expensive.”

“Olly’s starting soccer at the end of the month,” You told him. “It’s for boys and girls. You should see if Maddie wants to do that.”

“If Oliver’s doing it, she’ll probably say yes.”

You nodded at that and how true it was on both sides. “I’ll text you the information.”

“Thanks,” He said and smiled.

You followed him as he walked into the living room to get Maddie. She was still fast asleep as her arms circled around his neck when he picked her up. You grabbed her bookbag that she and Oliver left by the front door and helped Steve hook one of his arms in it.

Somehow something was silently exchanged in that last look shared between you and him before you said your final goodbyes for the night, and you softly shut and locked your door behind him. It was a look that expressed that you both were glad about what happened in the past twenty minutes— the honesty-filled conversation that led to you two finally understanding one another and realizing how you were actually more alike than either of you had ever thought.

It was a realization that was simultaneously surprising and refreshing.

“Goodnight,” You said, giving him a small smile and he smiled back at you.

“Goodnight.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

PART TWO

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #dad!steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things series #steve harrington series

728 notes · View notes