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adascore · 1 month

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Out Of The Blue | J. Fleming

pairings: jessie fleming x chelsea!reader

warnings: angst. swearing. crying. jessie’s transfer.

author’s note: inspired by @pixiesfz (fic: moving on) and @jflemings (fic: inevitable), I definitely recommend checking out their versions of the transfer!

masterlist

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January, 2024

''Yeah, that does sound great. I'll, uh, think about it and call you tomorrow… Okay, thanks… Bye bye.'' Jessie hung up the phone, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She sighed as she glanced back into the living room, her girlfriend sitting on their couch, blissfully unaware of anything.

Y/N wasn't entirely oblivious to Jessie's agent researching new clubs. It had been an ongoing discussion for a while now, fueled by Jessie's frustration with her dwindling game time at Chelsea.

Jessie quietly sat back down on the couch, not wanting to disturb her partner's tv-show.

''Everything okay?'' The Canadian turned her head, finding Y/N's eyes on her.

She nodded, biting her lips. ''Yeah, good… just my agent.'' She replied, trying to mask the turmoil in her voice.

''Any news?'' Y/N asked.

Bless her heart, Jessie thought. Despite not being the biggest fan of no longer getting to be teammates, Y/N had been very supportive of her girlfriend's search, believing her talent was indeed being wasted at Chelsea.

''Uh, nothing new,'' the midfielder lied, ''she's still in talks with a few clubs.''

''Oh, okay.'' The forward smiled, redirecting her focus back to the series she was watching.

Jessie didn't want to lie, she really didn't. However, telling the love of your life that you received a great offer from an American club and that you're really considering it, isn't an easy thing to do. The Canadian tried telling herself she should only tell Y/N when it's official, but Jessie knew from the moment her agent informed her of the option, that this was the right direction for her to go.

Her game time would improve compared to Chelsea's, and Janine and Christine would become her club teammates- she'd be stupid not to accept. But Portland was far from London, and Portland was far away from Y/N, her true home.

She promised herself she would tell her when the time was right, when the offer from the Thorns was official and her future was certain.

''I think she might stay until the end of the season, and then see what her options are.'' Y/N responded to Erin, after the Scot asked about Jessie's future.

Erin nodded. ''Nice, we can give her a proper sendoff then.''

''I'd say a party, but I don't think she would want to be the center of attention.'' Millie chimed in, thinking about how they could celebrate the younger woman's time at Chelsea.

''She'd look more like a tomato than she already does.'' Erin laughed, imagining her fellow midfielder's reaction.

''But it's good that we'll have at least this last season with her. The last match is gonna be emotional, Emma leaving, Jessie leaving…'' Millie said once the laughter had died down.

Y/N nodded her head. ''Yeah, but I just want to see her happy, you know? She loves the team, but, you know, with the game time and everything.''

Both women nodded, understanding Jessie's reasons for wanting to play somewhere else.

''Do you know where she's maybe going?'' Millie asked, curiously.

The younger woman shrugged her shoulders. ''She has plenty of options,'' Y/N grinned proudly, ''I think she's staying in Europe, though- Champions League and all.''

''She's gonna become a rival.'' Erin teased, rubbing her hands together in feigned mischief.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the thought, but the underlying sadness of Jessie's departure lingered in the back of her mind.

''I also see her staying close by, at least near you.'' Millie lightly nudged her teammate's shoulder, sending a wink.

Y/N grinned back, but there was a hint of dejection in her eyes as she glanced at her friends "She's gotta do what's best for her," she said softly, her gaze drifting to the floor, "that's the most important thing.” She murmured.

As Y/N's thoughts lingered on Jessie's impending departure, she was abruptly pulled back to the present by the sound of someone's voice.

''Hey, you're ready to go?'' Jessie asked, her arrival at their table breaking the somber silence that had settled over them.

Amazing timing, Fleming, Y/N thought as her girlfriend approached their table.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jessie, her dejected mood momentarily forgotten as she met her girlfriend's gaze. "Yeah." She replied, her eyes lighting up and a smile gracing her lips.

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, their amusement evident as they observed the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor in the presence of her girlfriend.

Y/N got up from her chair. ''See you tomorrow, beautiful ladies.'' She bid her friends goodbye.

''Tomorrow, love birds.'' ''See ya!''

Jessie silently grabbed her partner's bag from the floor, and the pair walked together to the parking lot.

''They're so adorable it makes me sick.'' Erin muttered.

Millie laughed at her teammate. ''I think you might be allergic.''

As they drove out of the Chelsea training complex, a heavy silence enveloped the couple, weighing down the air in the car. Silences weren't necessarily unusual for them, but there was something about this one that had Y/N feeling confused and worried at the same time.

Glancing sideways at Jessie, Y/N noticed the furrow in her brow, the tension etched into the lines of her face. It was clear that something was bothering her, something she was struggling to articulate.

"Hey, Jess," the striker began hesitantly, breaking the uneasy silence that hung between them, "is everything okay?”

Jessie's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she wrestled with her thoughts. ''Yeah, just a bit tired.'' She responded, her voice strained.

Her answer did nothing to soothe her. There was a distance in the Canadian's eyes, a hesitancy in her voice that spoke volumes. "You can talk to me, you know." Y/N said, and she reached out to Jessie's hand.

For a moment, Jessie tensed up at the display of affection. Her breath was caught in her throat as she struggled with what to tell her partner. ''Can we talk about this when we're home? I don't want to have this conversation while I'm driving.'' She asked, momentarily making eye contact with her.

Y/N nodded, though the unease still gnawed at her. "Of course," she replied gently, withdrawing her hand but keeping her gaze fixed on Jessie, "we can talk about it when we get home."

The remainder of the drive passed in an uncomfortable conversation about their thoughts on the training that day.

As they finally pulled into their driveway, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of the impending conversation sending a wave of anxiety crashing over her. She followed Jessie inside, the heavy silence hanging between them like a dense fog.

Once inside, Y/N took a seat on the couch. Her eyes fixed on the midfielder like a hawk as Jessie paced through the room.

Taking a a few deep breaths to ease herself, Jessie finally broke the silence that had enveloped them. "I... I received an offer." She confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N perked up at the revelation. ''An offer?'' She repeated. ''That's great, no?'' Her voice tinged with uncertainty.

But as she watched her girlfriend unconsciously shake her head, she knew there was more to the story than Jessie was letting on.

The Canadian hesitated, her gaze shifting to the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "From the Portland Thorns," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible, "they want me to play for them.”

Y/N's heart sank at the news, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. ''Portland?'' She muttered. ''In the U.S.?''

Jessie silently nodded. ''Yeah, the NWSL.'' She confirmed.

Her heart sank even further at the confirmation, the reality of the situation settling in like a heavy weight on her chest. ''Wow… that's, uh, that's amazing- with Janine and Christine, that's really nice, babe.'' She tried to muster a smile, but it felt hollow on her lips.

Despite her attempt to be supportive, the weight of Jessie's decision bore down on Y/N like a heavy burden. The thought of being separated by thousands of miles was something out of a nightmare.

But as she looked at Jessie, her heart ached at the thought of holding her back from pursuing her dreams. She knew that she had to be strong, to support her partner no matter what path she chose.

''Thank you.'' Jessie was unsure of how to proceed, it was clear that her girlfriend wasn't expecting a transfer to the other side of the world. "I... I know this isn't easy," she continued, her voice wavering slightly. "But I have to do what's best for my career.”

Y/N reached out, gently squeezing Jessie's hand. "I know," she replied softly, ''and this is gonna be really good for you.''

''So… you're not upset?''

She shook her head, a forced smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ''Of course not. I know you're going to do amazing there, and I'm happy that they are seeing your talent. It's a great club, Jess. And if it means you'll be happier... then I'm all for it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Jessie's eyes as she pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. "I love you." She whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too," Y/N replied, returning the embrace, ''I think you forgot for a moment that I'm, like, your biggest fan.'' She chuckled, tears forming in her own eyes.

Jessie laughed now as well. "How could I forget?" She echoed, her eyes sparkling with affection as she looked at Y/N. "You're the best.”

As the evening wore on, the weight of Jessie's decision lingered in the air, casting a somber mood over the apartment. Despite the reassurances they had exchanged, the reality of the situation still hung heavy on their hearts.

A few days later, the time came for Jessie to face her teammates and share the news of her new club. The staff had gathered the team into the meeting room with the excuse they needed to go over some past matches.

''Before we get into some of the matches, there is someone here who has some news for us,'' Emma began, ''Jessie?'' The coach signaled for the Canadian to take her spot at the front of the room.

The midfielder quietly walked towards Emma. ''Hey, everyone,” she awkwardly greeted the room, "I, uh... I have something I need to tell you.” A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to Jessie.

Y/N's eyes became fixed on the floor, not feeling ready to hear this for a second time.

''I've received an offer from the Portland Thorns,” she said, still a bit on edge, ''and… I've decided to accept it. So this is actually my, uh, last day as a Blue.''

"I... I know this might come as a surprise," Jessie continued, her voice faltering. "you guys are an amazing group, and I'm so lucky to have shared the pitch with such incredible players. All of you will always have a special place in my heart, and, yeah, just thank you for everything.'' She finished her small speech, becoming emotional.

She received applause from the squad and staff in the room. Emma was the first to give her a hug. A flicker of irritation flashed through Y/N at the thought of their coach's role in Jessie's decision to leave, but she pushed it aside, knowing that now was not the time.

All the players got up from their seats to say their own ‘thank you's' or give their own hugs to Jessie. However, the young striker remained seated, finding herself unable to follow her teammates.

With a heavy heart, Y/N quietly rose from her seat, her footsteps barely audible as she made her way towards the door.

She felt a hand on her shoulder as she almost went for the door handle. ''You okay?''

Y/N was met with Sam as she turned around, the Australian's face expressing concern over her teammate's exit without having said anything to her girlfriend.

''Yeah, just need the bathroom.'' She replied, quickly.

Sam nodded and let her go, but she was not convinced. The No. 20 shared a look with her captain who had also watched the young woman's escape.

Millie swiftly ruffled the Canadian's hair, before walking over to Sam. ''What was that?''

''I don't know, said she needed the bathroom, but she went before the meeting.'' The experienced striker explained, a furrow in her eyebrows.

''I'll talk to her.'' Turning back to Sam, she offered a reassuring smile before making her way towards the door.

She caught up with Y/N in the hallway, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. "Hey," the Brit said delicately, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "Mind if we chat for a moment?”

Y/N hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to meet her older teammate's eyes. "Sure." she replied quietly.

She led the younger one to a more secluded area, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on their more personal moment. Millie's face was full of concern as she turned to her. ''Are you okay? What happened there? Didn't Jessie tell you already?''

''She did, she did… a few days ago.'' She answered, her voice still quiet and full of emotion.

''Then, what's wrong? Why'd you leave?''

Y/N pulled her attention from the ground to Millie's eyes. ''It's just… that, like, it seemed to have only hit me now that she's actually going, you know? She's gonna go to Portland, while I'm staying here in fucking London.''

Millie's expression softened with understanding as she listened to Y/N's words, her heart aching for her younger teammate. ''I get it,'' she put her arm around her, ''it's tough knowing that she'll be so far away, especially when you're used to having her here with you every day.''

The striker nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she struggled to contain her emotions. "Yeah," she murmured, ''I'm…'' she trailed off.

''You're what, sweetheart?''

''I'm scared.'' Her voice was small, if her teammate wasn't standing so close to her, she probably would have missed it.

''Of what?'' The captain frowned.

''The distance, I don't think I can handle it, Millie.''

Millie's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/N's voice, her own eyes brimming with tears as she wrapped her younger friend in a warm embrace. "I understand," she murmured, offering her a comforting squeeze, "it's okay to be scared. It's a big change. For the both of you.''

Y/N nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she struggled to articulate the depth of her fears. "I... I'm scared of losing her," she admitted softly, ''that she'll forget me while she's there.''

"You won't lose her," she reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity. "Jessie loves you, Y/N. And distance won't change that.”

Y/N sniffled, a small hiccup escaping her as she leaned into Millie's embrace, finding solace in her comforting words. "But what if... what if she meets someone else?" She whispered, her voice tinged with fear.

Millie's grip tightened, her heart breaking at the thought of her friend's pain. "Jessie loves you," she repeated firmly. "And nothing, and I really mean that, nothing will bloody change that.''

''Thanks, Mills.'' Y/N said, her head resting on her shoulder.

''You're welcome, darling. I'm always here for you. And Erin, and Sam, and Guro, Niamh, Z, all of us.'' She reassured her, wanting her to know that they'll stand by her while she goes through this difficult time.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at Millie's words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I... I really needed to hear that.”

''Anytime, bubs,'' the defender pecked the top of her head, ''I do think you need to tell Jessie this. It's important for her to know how you feel about all this.''

The younger one nodded, taking a moment to compose herself before pulling away from Millie. "You're right," she agreed, her voice a bit steadier now, ''I'll talk to her about it.''

Millie gave her a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with encouragement. ''Great, she'll understand. It's Jessie, remember?'' She chuckled, trying to get a grin out of her friend.

She was successful as Y/N managed to crack a smile. ''Yeah, it's Jessie,'' she straightened her posture as if ready for battle, ''thanks again, Mills. I really appreciate it.''

The defender nodded, the smile on her own face widening. ''You're very welcome, sweetheart.'' She gave Y/N a small pat on the back.

The next evening, they sat together in their dimly lit living room, trying to watch a movie. Y/N glanced over at Jessie, whose eyes were focused on the television.

"Jessie," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, ''can I, uh, talk to you about something?''

The Canadian's brows furrowed in concern as she turned towards her partner. ''Of course.''

Y/N took a deep breath. ''First, I am so happy for you that you're going somewhere where they are appreciating your talent, and that you'll be closer to your family and your siblings...'' she began, her words slow and measured. She paused, struggling to meet Jessie's gaze. ''I just don't think that I, uh, am gonna be able to handle the distance.''

Jessie's stomach twisted with unease as she absorbed her words. In the days since it had become official that she would be moving to Portland, they hadn't really discussed how their relationship would proceed. Each of them had spoken about it with their friends, but they both seemed hesitant to broach the topic with each other, perhaps afraid of the uncertainty it might bring.

''I want to, Jessie, I really want to try- I just want you to know how I feel, it's been bothering me.''

The midfielder found it hard to respond as she observed her girlfriend who looked like she was about to burst out in tears. Tears welled up in Jessie's eyes as she reached out to gently cup Y/N's face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. "I understand," she whispered, her voice strained, "and I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Y/N's own eyes started to water. She leaned into Jessie's touch, her heart breaking at the thought of losing her. ''I love you, J Flem.''

''I love you.'' Jessie reciprocated as she took her partner into her arms, wanting her as close as possible.

''I don't know if I can handle being so far apart, not seeing you or speaking to you every day. International break is already a killer for me, and it's difficult to just go back-and-forth between Portland and London.'' The striker whispered into Jessie's neck, not able to say it any louder.

The Canadian nodded, completely understanding her perspective. ''I know,'' she whispered back, 'I never wanted to put you in this position."

For a moment, they simply held each other in silence, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air. But as the minutes ticked by, the reality of their situation became increasingly clear.

''I don't want to hold you back.'' Y/N said, her voice muffled against the fabric of Jessie's shirt.

''You're not holding me back at all.'' Jessie immediately retorted, ruffling her hair.

Y/N weakly chuckled. ''It feels like I am.''

''Please don't think that, babe.''

They were both aware of what was coming, they were simply wasting time as if that would somehow work and they wouldn't have to leave each other.

''I remember when I first joined Chelsea, and I was watching some of you guys' matches, and thinking you were so intimidating,'' Jessie broke the silence.

''but then you were actually one of the first people to say hi to me, and you just looked so different than on the pitch. You were smiling, and trying your best to make me feel welcome.'' She laughed, an affectionate smile playing on her lips.

Y/N grinned as well, while wiping some loose tears away. ''I just remember thinking you looking super awkward.'' She dryly responded.

Jessie gave her a light push. ''Hey!''

''I also thought you were very cute… with your flushed cheeks.'' She quickly added.

The midfielder ironically blushed at the admission.

It became quiet between the two of them again, reminiscing their early days as teammates at Chelsea.

''We'll find our way back to one another, I'm sure of it.'' Jessie nodded.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat at Jessie's words. ''We're still so young, you never know what can happen.''

''And I know what's going to happen. You and I, together- whenever, wherever that may be.'' She reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity.

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening with the weight of their impending separation. "I love you, Jessie." She told her, the pair locking eyes.

"I love you too," Jessie replied, her voice catching in her throat, "more than anything."

jessie fleming requests are always welcome!

#jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso fic #chelsea women x reader

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livwritesstuff · 3 months

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So Steve obviously loves Valentine’s Day.

This didn’t ever come as a surprise to Eddie, and in the years between when they started dating and when their kids were born, it was something that never changed.

When Steve walked in the door fresh off the afternoon carpool route with their three daughters in tow and said, “Dude – I swear to god this has gotta be the best Valentine’s Day ever,” Eddie wasn’t exactly taken aback, more just unsure what could have happened so early in the day that had him this confident that V-Day of 2012 would be the best one ever.

“Why?” Eddie asked suspiciously.

“When I dropped off Ava, David invited me over to watch the basketball game,” he replies, still with a massive grin on his face even as their daughters dump their backpacks and jackets and shoes all over the ground instead of hanging them up like they should be doing.

Eddie made a face – David, one of their neighbors and an unfortunate addition to the elementary school carpool circuit, is notably a total fucking loser.

He’s also obsessed with Steve (and not even in a gay way, which Eddie could at least understand – no, it’s in this weird, loser, ex-jock who peaked in high school kind of way).

“I know, right? I’m pretty sure he’s that fucking desperate for something to do tonight that isn’t his wife,” Steve continued.

“What’s wrong with his wife?”

“Ed, believe it or not, it gets even better.”

“Tell me,” Eddie demanded, finally getting that Steve’s got a whole-ass story for him.

“I’m going to, man, holy shit,” Steve shook his head as he stepped over the mess their kids left behind (because one of them would be corralling them all back downstairs to deal with their shit like they’re supposed to)

So Eddie listens as Steve launches into a retelling of the conversation he apparently had with David, who, predictably, acted like a total fucking loser about how Steve actually wanted to spend time with his family on Valentine’s Day.

“What does this have to do with his wife?” Eddie asked when Steve reached a stopping point, “Other than how incredibly sad it is for her.”

“Right – so get this. David ended up telling me that his wife is going out tonight with Chris, and I figured he meant Chris, like Christine, Liam’s mom, because I know they’re friends, but it’s not. It’s Chris, the divorced dad on the PTA, and apparently they hang out all the time.”

Eddie’s eyes widened as he pieced together what Steve was implying.

“No fucking way.”

“Right?!? And, look, you know I think cheating is wrong, but…I dunno, I really hope she has a fantastic Valentine’s Day.”

#idk idk something about middle-aged Steve knowing all the hot goss in their suburban town #this doesn’t really count as a valentine’s day post lol maybe i’ll fathom something else up later #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #also this is inspired by a tiktok - will link if i can track it down #rereading this there are a *lot* of F-Bombs srry if that’s not your vibe #i feel like they’re at that stage in parenthood where they know their kids know the words #so what’s the point in hiding it anymore?#judgy-steve my beloved

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wosowrites · 9 months

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Moose (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: none

prompt: in which the reader and jessie play for chelsea and before they leave for the world cup reader makes jessie a crochet moose which becomes the team mascot for canada.

a/n: based off this request here also a super short fic because i’m still broken.

You were not at all a crafty person. Jessie had grown up with a craft room in her house and she liked to paint, draw, and do artsy things to calm herself down like her mother had taught her. When you started dating a year into her contract at Chelsea, her calmness had rubbed off on you. You had always been a stressed out person and moving in with Jessie had made you into a much more relaxed and happy human. You would go on bike rides, hikes, make crafts, paint the house every time you got bored of it and do everything together.

However the only thing you started doing on your own was crocheting. Jessie had tried it but was never big on it, so all the spare yarn in the house went to you. You loved it. You were horrific at it however. Everything turned into little colourful blobs and your creations were constantly either too loose or too messy. That’s why, when you walked into the house one day and pulled out a beautifully crocheted moose with a Canada jersey on, Jessie was baffled.

For the past three weeks, you would escape to a café every day and crochet for about an hour before going back to your girlfriend. Jessie was not a worried person and as madly in love as you both were with each other, spending a small amount of time away from each other every day just made you closer. Some days you would tell her you were grocery shopping, other days it was a meeting with your agent, a hang out with one of your German teammates.

But today, Moose was finally done.

You finished him a week and a half before the departure of the World Cup and you were in Canada with Jessie and her family. It would make it harder to travel all the way back to Germany and then to Australia but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be girlfriends instead of rivals for as long as possible.

At the dinner table that night, you picked up your glass and straightened up.

"Um, I’m not big on words as you guys have seen by now but I wanna say a couple words," you said.

Jessie’s entire family put down their cutlery and looked up at you. "I’m terrified for this World Cup. Like… horrified. It’s been four years since I’ve played a major tournament so far from you, Jess. The olympics are in one city so we can visit but in Australia… we’re constantly going to be flying around. So… I made Moose," you said.

From under the table, you grabbed a bag and pulled out the knit animal. He had a red and white swear and big old antlers. Jessie’s mouth fell open and a large smile cracked her freckled face. "I’ve been making him for weeks, and he has like… five half knit siblings that went wrong if you want them," Jessie laughed loudly and extended her hand to take the crocheted animal. "Baby… it’s perfect oh my god," she said, smiling down at the animal. "Klara taught me how to make him. That’s why I was always out for an hour or so these past weeks," You said.

Jessie hugged the plushy to her chest and then put it beside her plate. The brunette stood up and walked to behind your chair, wrapping her arms around your neck and squeezing you.

Elysse took a quick picture as Jessie’s parents raved over your new talent.

Over the next couple weeks, Jessie was seen carrying Moose during press, in the bus, around the city, at training, everywhere. She always had Moose. And if she didn’t, she had entrusted Christine Sabrina, or anyone else on the clamer side to take care of the little mascot.

After Canadas 2-1 win over Ireland, Jessie was interviewed and eventually, the subject of Moose came up.

"Is that a moose?" the woman asked, looking down at the plushie tucked under Jessie’s arm. The camera followed the reporters eyes and then went back up to the Canadian. "Yeah it is," she laughed shyly, holding up the mascot. "Is there a story benne that? I mean it’s been showing up everywhere. "There is, yeah. My… uh my girlfriend made it for me. She’s at the world cup and her friend taught her how to make it for me. We won’t be seeing each other for a while depending on how the games go so she said she wanted me to have a piece of her. It’s cute, and I didn’t think she was this artsy so it caught me by surprise for sure," Jessie said, shyly and gently.

The reporter awed over Jessie’s story but the midfielders brain was just full of images of you. She missed you so much.

That night, she called you and the whole Canadian team joined the call behind the vice- captain, thanking you for the mascot.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #jessie fleming #canwnt #gerwnt

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year

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Part Of Your World ~ p.p

pairing: Peter Parker x mermaid!reader

chapter three: out of the sea

series masterlist

“I need some legs.”

“Excuse me?” Dr. Strange asked as he put down his newspaper to see Peter standing in his doorway.

“Not for me. For my girlfriend. Perhaps you haven’t heard, but I’m dating a mermaid.” Peter shrugged like it was no big deal.

“No, I haven’t heard. I’ve been in Kamer-Taj for the last month. I’m just here to get some things.” Strange said dismissively as he gathered some things and slipped them into his satchel. He brushed past Peter to leave the room, then stopped.

“And by the way, even if I had been living here, I don’t take any particular interest in your personal life. I would like to make that clear.” He reminded Peter before walking away.

“Did you do something new with your hair? It looks amazing. Your hairline didn’t get further down, did it?” Peter laid the flattery on thick as he followed Strange down the hall.

“What do you want?” Strange sighed and stopped.

“I need you to cast a spell and give my mer-girlfriend legs so we can be together.” Peter said and clasped his hands under his chin.

“No.” Strange said immediately and walked away again.

“Please? She’s dreamt of being on land her whole life. There is nothing she has ever wanted more. I promised her I would get her some legs.”

“Well, you should not have have that promise since you have 0 way of fulfilling it.”

“But you do. You can do anything. I’ve seen it. Can’t you give my girl some legs?” Peter pleaded and continued to follow him.

“No. I don’t do favors. And I don’t mess with nature.”

“Please, Strange. She’s in trouble.” Peter begged, making Strange stop.

“What kind of trouble?” He asked and tried not to sound too interested.

“Her dad is super possessive and controlling of her. He’s gonna marry her off to someone she doesn’t love and keep her under the water the rest of her life.”

“She’s a mermaid, kid. She belongs under the water.” Strange reminded him.

“Not this mermaid. She’s always felt out of place down there. She belongs up here. She knows it and I know it. It’s all she’s ever wanted. Haven’t you ever wanted something so desperately that you’d give anything to get it?”

Strange was silent as he pondered Peters question. He thought of Christine and the watch she’d given him. Then he thought of how she looked on her wedding day.

“Bad things happen with you mess with nature. Things you would never see coming.” He said finally.

“I’ve seen you part a puddle so your cape wouldn’t get wet.” Peter pointed out.

“Is her dad really that bad?” Strange asked, knowing he was caught.

“Yes. He won’t let her do anything that makes her happy. He controls every aspect of her life. She has no freedom.” Peter told him. Strange was quiet for a minute and felt a twinge of sympathy for this girl he had never met.

“Fathers shouldn’t reprimand their daughters.” He said quietly. Peter smiled in relief, knowing he’d gotten through to him.

“Will you help her?” Peter asked hopefully, making Strange look at him.

“She really wants this?”

“More than anything.” Peter nodded. “And so do I.”

“Will you ever stop asking if I say no?” Strange asked, already knowing the answer.

“Never.” Peter confirmed. “I’ll be so annoying, you’ll wish you stayed a pile of dust.”

“Fine.” Strange said finally. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, Strange. You won’t regret this. I swear.” Peter grinned and tightly hugged him.

“It’s fine. Just don’t hug me anymore.” Strange said and wriggled out of the hug.

“I won’t.” Peter promised and quickly let go.

“I guess I can manipulate nature just this once. If your girlfriend wants legs that badly, I can give her some legs.” Strange decided.

“Now, these legs.” Peter began. “Will they come with…”

“Come with what?” Strange asked when Peter trailed off.

“You know, everything?” Peter asked and gestured with his hands.

“Yes. She’ll have toes, thighs, ankles, all of it.” Strange shrugged. “I’m not trying to trick you. I’ll give her legs and everything that comes with them.”

“Everything, though? Like, everything everything?” Peter raised his eyebrows.

“What?” Strange asked, starting to get annoyed.

“He’s trying to ask if she’ll have a coochie or not.” Sam said as he passed them in the hallway. Strange hung his head in disappointment as Peter blushed a deep red.

“Yes, she’ll have the proper anatomy of a biological female.” Strange said as he rubbed his eyes.

“Meaning?” Peter asked for clarification.

“She’ll have a coochie.” Strange said, unamused.

“Awesome.” Peter clapped. “For her. Not me. I really hyped up Charmin Ulta Soft toilet paper.”

“I have to warn you, though. Messing with reality like this can have consequences. I’ve never done this before. I can’t promise you what the outcome will be.” Strange warned.

“As long as I get to be with her, it’ll be okay.”

“All right. I need to perfect the spell first. Give me three days time.”

“Three days time?” Peter whined. “Is there no instant spell we could do?”

“Damn. He really wants that pacific coochie.” Sam said from down the hall. Peter groaned when he realized he was still listening and stamped his feet like a little kid.

“Stop listening! You’d do the same thing if you had a mermaid girlfriend. Which you don’t!” Peter shouted down the hallway.

“Says who?” Sam shouted back, making Peter go silent. Dr. Strange sighed again and shook his head in disbelief that he actually agreed to help Peter.

“So, I’ll see you in three days?” Peter said with a cheeky smile.

“Three days. And then we are taking a long, long break from each other.”

“Deal.” Peter grinned.

Meanwhile, you were in your cavern where you kept all the things you had collected. You were showing one of your sisters, Indira, the things Peter had brought you from the land.

“What’s that?” Indira asked when she noticed the bead bracelet on your wrist.

“Isn’t it neat? Peter calls it a bracelet. He made it himself. He even spelled my name with beads, see?” You smiled proudly and held your wrist out.

“Wow. Just like the humans wear.” She gasped and touched the plastic beads in awe.

“I know. I’ve never seen my name spelled out before. And look what else Peter brought me.” You clapped your hands in excitement before handing her a butter knife that Peter had brought on one of your dates.

“A sharp dinglehopper?” She asked as she took it in her hand.

“Peter said it’s called a “knife”. And apparently, the humans call dinglehoppers “forks”. Isn’t that amazing?” You gushed.

“I’m happy for you, Y/n. This Peter might be the one.” Indira smiled fondly at you.

“I hope so. I think I’m falling in love with him.” You confessed to her.

“But he’s a human. How could it ever work?” She asked as she took your hands.

“I’m not sure yet.” You admitted. “But Peter and I will figure it out. Together.”

“Who’s Peter?” Your fathers voice came booming through your cavern, making you and Indira jump and cling together.

“Daddy! Hi. I didn’t hear you come in.” You faked a smile and held your sister close.

“Who’s Peter?” He repeated as he looked disapprovingly upon your collection.

“No one. Just a merman I met.” You lied.

“I know all the mermaids in our reef. I’ve never heard of a Peter.”

“He’s new. His family just got here from the Atlantic.” You continued to lie as your father examined some of your newest additions. Your collection had grown significantly since meeting Peter and you father could tell.

“Where did you get all this stuff?” He asked, making you gulp.

“I collect things that fall into the water, daddy. You know this.” You played dumb. He grabbed your wrist suddenly and looked at your bracelet.

“Someone dropped a bracelet with your name on it into the water?” He asked skeptically.

“It must be a popular name with the humans.” Indira came to your defense. Your father turned your wrist over and saw that Peters name was also spelled out in beads.

“Peter.” He read off the bracelet.

“Oh, right. I forgot. Peter made this for me.” You laughed nervously.

“Peter had string and beads that spelled out both your names?” Your father asked and tightened his grip on your wrist.

“I had it in my collection. I let him borrow it.” You said quietly and tried to pull your wrist away. Your father threw your arm back at you and swam deeper into your cavern to look at the rest of your collection.

“What is this?” He asked as he held up a little Spiderman keychain Peter had gifted you.

“A keychain, daddy.” You said innocently. Your father tossed it back without a care and moved on. He picked up a laminated piece of paper and scanned the contents of it.

“A love letter?” Your father said in a low voice as he slowly looked up at you.

“Yes, daddy.” You gulped and squeezed Indira’s hand for comfort.

“It’s hard.” He said as he flicked it with his finger. He’s never seen paper before since it wouldn’t last under water, but he knew what it was. Beyond that, he knew there was no way you had just found this at the bottom of the sea.

“It was laminated.” You said quietly. He narrowed his eyes at you, not knowing what that word meant but not wanting to seem weak.

“Don’t use big words like that. You don’t know what they mean.” He sneered at you.

“I do know what it means. It’s when you put a piece of paper in a machine and it covers both sides with a layer is plastic to protect it.”

“And Peter did this?” He asked when he saw Peters name at the bottom.

“Yes, daddy.” You said with less confidence this time.

“Under the sea?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?” You squeaked out, knowing he didn’t believe you.

“You’re lying to me. This is from a human, isn’t it? All of this is from a human.” Your father bellowed as he used his trident to smash parts of your collection.

“Daddy, no! My collection.” You cried out and tried to stop him from breaking anything else. You’d spent your whole life building your collection. It was all you had in the world. Watching him destroy it in a seconds felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest.

“I am so sick of your obsession with the humans. This is all human garbage. I won’t tolerate it anymore.” He shouted as he continued to break your prized possessions.

“No!” You cried and caught whatever was floating around you.

“Humans killed your mother. They will kill you too.” Your father screamed at you.

“Good! I’d rather be dead than live down here in this prison.” You screamed back at him.

“When I find this Peter, he will feel the wrath of Titans mighty trident.” He threatened and swung his trident at you. You quickly swam away from it as Indira swam away scared.

“But daddy, I love him!” You professed.

“You can’t love a human. I’ll be arranging your marriage to one of the mermen in the reef straight away. And believe this. You will never go to the surface again. You will never go so much as out of my sight. And you will never, ever see Peter again.”

“You can’t keep me from him. I love him. That’s my choice.” You stated firmly.

“Who do you think you are? You don’t get to make your own decisions. You’re not smart enough to. I make the choices around here. And I choose to forbid you from ever speaking of the humans again.” He shouted as he smashed the rest of your collection. You cried as you watched your life’s work get destroyed to pieces that floated around you. Once he was done, he grabbed the knife Peter had given you and swam towards you.

“Daddy, what are you doing?” You asked as you swam upwards.

“If you can’t keep quiet, I will keep you quiet.” He said and reached out it grab you. You dodged him and started to swim upwards as quickly as you could. He grabbed onto your tail but you quickly spun around and got loose. You smacked him with a flick of your tail and swam off in a blur. Since you explored often, you were able to lose him by swimming through every nook and cranny you’d discovered on your adventures. You could hear him swimming after you but never looked back. You darted and zig zagged until you were sure you lost him. You swam all the way to yours and Peters rock and hopped up on it just as Peter was swinging over. When he saw you already sitting there, he got worried that something was wrong. He landed and kissed you hello, making you burst into tears. He held you close and rubbed your back until you calmed down enough to speak.

“Hey, hey, hey. What happened? It’s okay, darling. It’s okay.” He said as he wiped your face.

“My dad knows about us. He’s already destroyed my collection. If he finds me, he’s gonna clip my tail and cut out my tongue. I’ll never see you again.” You cried against his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let that happen. No one’s gonna hurt you, baby. I won’t let them.” Peter assured you.

“If we want to be together, we have to run away. Now. Were you able to talk to your people about getting me legs?” You asked and gripped his shirt.

“I was. But my sorcerer friend said he needs three days time.”

“Three days time?” You sighed.

“That was my exact reaction.”

“I don’t have three days. I need to get out of here now.” You gulped and looked around for your father or any of his men that may have followed you.

“I’m gonna swim back to shore. Wait for me there, okay?” Peter said as a half baked idea came to him.

“What’s the plan, Peter?” You asked him. Peter cupped your face and pulled you into a long kiss.

“The plan is I return the favor and rescue you.” He said once he pulled away.

“I like that plan.” You smiled softly. Peter kissed you one last time and then dove into the water. He swam until he reached rocks that he could swing off of off to get himself back to shore. By the time he got there, you were waiting in a bed of seaweed that concealed your tail. You’d never been this close to the shore before and it almost made you forget the situation you were in. Once Peter landed, he scooped you up and carried you to the beach.

“Why are you so heavy?” He groaned and struggled to run on the sand.

“I’m a human sized fish.” You reminded him.

“Oh. Right.” Peter realized and continued to carry you up the beach. Luckily, the sun had set and no one was around for miles so you didn’t have to worry about being seen. Peter was focused on getting you to his apartment without being seen, but you were focused on the world around you.

“My first time on land.” You whispered to yourself as you took in absolutely everything around you. The sand, the lights from the cityscape in front of you, the salty breeze, and the sound of seagulls in the distance filled you with the greatest joy you’d ever known. Peter noticed you looking around in amazement and stopped to give you a chance to see it all.

“Do you like it?” He asked, catching your attention.

“I’ve spent my whole life in the ocean. I’ve never been on the beach.” You sighed dreamily and looked around again.

“I’ll take you back one day. But first, you need your legs.”

You grinned and nodded your head as Peter continued walking. He carried you to the street and started running in the direction of his apartment. Since he needed two arms to carry you, he couldn’t use his webs.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to carry me all the way to your house?” You feared as he ran through the back streets of the city with you.

“I’m super human, remember? I got you, girl.” He said suavely.

“Okay.” You sighed happily and rested your head on his shoulder. Luckily, Peter didn’t live too far from the beach and was able to get you back to his apartment within 20 minutes.

“Okay. We’re here.” Peter said you arrived.

“This is where you live? It’s huge.” You gasped and looked at a building for the first time.

“You’re impressed by this? Wow. You really don’t know much about the above world.” Peter said out of the corner of his mouth.

“How will we get in?” You asked him.

“Great question. How am I gonna get a mermaid into my apartment without May seeing?” Peter chewed his lips and tried to think.

“Oh right. I can climb walls.” He remembered. He carefully maneuvered you around his body so that you could wrap your arms around his neck while he climbed the side of his building. It wasn’t safe to swing with you like that, but a quick climb felt okay. Once he got to his window, he opened it and threw you inside. You bounced off his bed and rolled onto the floor with a heavy thud. Peter quickly shut his window and was about to apologize when you sat up with the biggest smile.

“Your floor has hair!” You gasped and rubbed your hand on his carpet.

“That’s called the carpet, darling. And I wouldn’t touch it too much. There’s about a thousand Dorito crumbs in there.”

“What’s this?” You asked and patted his bed. Peter scooped you up and laid you down on his bed before explaining.

“This is called a bed. It’s where I sleep at night. Do mermaids sleep or are you guys like sharks?”

“We sleep. Usually on a pile of seaweed. Nothing like this thing.” You said as you rubbed your hands up and down his bed. You winced suddenly and rubbed your waist where your tail met your skin.

“Are you okay?” Peter worried.

“Sorry. My tail gets itchy and tight when I’m dry for too long.” You winced again and shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, shoot. Let me run you a bath.” Peter said and quickly went into his attached bathroom. He waited for the water to get warm and then went to go get you. When he came back into his room, he found you chewing something.

“Um, sweetness, what’s in your mouth?” Peter asked calmly. You shrugged and held up a stick of deodorant with a bite taken out of it.

“Candy. Like the Sour Path Kids.” You said through a mouth full of deodorant.

“Oh God. Oh no. Okay. Let’s put that down.” Peter smiled sweetly and took the deodorant from your hands.

“Just one more bite.” You whined and tried to hold on to it.

“I’ll get you some real food once you’re in the bath.” Peter promised as he scooped you up off his bed. He carried you into the bathroom and gently put you in his bathtub.

“Okay. Stay here. I’ll go get you some food.”

“I can’t really go anywhere else.” You reminded him as you flicked your tail up and down.

“Right. Sorry.” He smiled tightly. He felt guilty when he looked at you in his tiny bathroom knowing you were used to swimming in the open ocean. He left the bathroom and soon returned with some of your favorites foods. He sat on the bathroom floor with you and ate while Peter explained all the things in his bathroom.

“I’m just so happy you’re here.” Peter said as he slipped his hand into yours.

“Me too. I’m finally on land!” You gushed and looked around Peters bathroom. It wasn’t exactly what you imagined for you first time on land, but it was still something you never thought you’d get to experience.

“And I’m with you. That’s the best part.” You turned back to Peter and squeezed his hand. Peter squeezed yours back before kissing your knuckles.

“You’re safe now.” He promised you. “And all we have to do is keep you hidden from my aunt for the next three days. Then you’ll get your legs and we can live like a normal couple.”

“Easy.” You smiled. “How hard could that be?”

🌊🌊🌊

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rosewaterandivy · 9 months

Text

the workin’ of my hands— a whatever’s still to come oneshot

summary: a stretched summer night between you and steve.

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

word count: 2271

warnings: prosaic smut, too many metaphors, and an over abundance of chiaroscuro - the usual!

note: am I positively feral for unreal unearth? 100 percent yes, do you even know me at all?! like I’ve said, this series is a long way from seeing the light of day, but enjoy a lil’ taste in the meantime.

Nota bene: Reblogging, commenting, and liking my work is always appreciated; reposting, however, is not.

Enjoy! 💜

It feels destined and star-crossed, the way his heart kicks up when your fingers brush against his.

Finally worked up the courage to ask you out, and it’s holding hands that does him in?

He shakes his head minutely, biting his lip and tearing his gaze from you. Not noticing your upturned face, thinks you’re looking at the stars when in reality, you can’t stop looking at him.

So familiar yet so different from what you imagined he’d be.

No matter.

Not when he squeezes your hand and he cuts the engine of the beemer.

It was a casual date, all things considered; dinner at the diner followed by a movie. During which Steve had been a perfect gentlemen, opening doors and keeping his hands to himself.

He doesn’t exactly want to and would rather propriety be damned, but the thing is he likes you. Really likes you. To the point that Robin is getting sick and tired of his moping and making cow-eyes at you whenever you’re in Family Video.

“Shit, or get off the pot, Harrington.”

He snorts, and continues to stock the new releases across the shop. “Such language,” he taunts, “And from a lady, at that.”

Robin rolls her eyes and Steve swears he can almost hear it. “‘M tryin’ to give you some advice, dingus.”

“Uh huh,” he replies, walking back to the counter for another stack of tapes. “No offense Robs, but I think between the two of us, I’m the dating expert.”

Now it’s her turn to snort. “Okay, big guy.” She taps the keys of the computer idly, “Then when is the last time you’ve used this so-called expertise?”

“Pfft.” He rolls his eyes, “I dunno, like last week? Crystal or Christine— whatever her name was.”

Robin smirks, “You think that was last week? Try a month ago. Poor Christine only stopped calling you last week.”

Steve stops, a tape nearly falling from his grasp. The door chimes, signaling a customer walking in, and he nearly falls over himself trying to assist them.

Only to see you standing by the door.

Robin lets out a low whistle and busies herself at the counter. And Steve would like nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

You look divine.

A bright summer dress, skirt skimming just above your knees to reveal sun-warmed skin. The faint aroma of sunblock and chlorine clings to you, invading his senses while he forces his eyes upward.

The bodice of the dress is damp, clinging to your rib cage and waist; it’s clear you’d just come from the pool and had thrown the garment on as a cover-up, a lone bikini strap slipping down one shoulder and chest heaving.

You’re clutching a tape in hand, something you’d rented last week, and that’s when it all slides into place.

“I—uh,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “I forgot to return this earlier, how much in late fees?”

It’s at this point that Robin has the sense to make herself scarce.

“Oh,” Steve replies, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not a huge deal since it was due this morning.”

His free hand comes to take the tape from you. Your fingers brush for the briefest of moments before Steve is turning to deposit the tape with the other returns.

He tries to stifle the shudder that runs through him, the sensation of your soft skin against his.

“Did you like it?”

“Hmm?”

Steve clears his throat, “The movie, did you like it?”

“Sure,” you say, fingers lingering on the tapes he’d just stocked. “It was fine.”

How Steve got from there to here, on a bona fide date with you, he’ll never know. Though Robin is insistent, it has something to do with “the Harrington charm offensive.”

Usually, somewhere between dates three to five, Steve maybe gets his dick wet. If he’s lucky.

But you flutter your lashes and look up with those big doe eyes and he finds himself defenseless.

“Wanna come up?”

He all but stumbles up the stairs to your apartment, tittering giggles spilling from your mouth as you unlock the door.

Steve’s eager, and you like it.

Is it such a bad thing, that he’s desperate for more of your time?

It’s like his mind finally rests in your presence, his soul is at peace. No longer constantly looking over his shoulder for the next big, bad thing.

You quiet the agonies inside him.

Replace them with warmth and light.

His mouth is on you as soon as the door is locked. Boozy and warm, with the faintest hint of tequila from your drink at dinner. You sigh into the kiss and Steve swears it’s a sound he’s heard only in his dreams.

Heat licks up the ridge of your spine, Steve’s hands everywhere, as if he can’t get enough of you. Leading him from the entryway, your hands land on his hips fingers hooking into belt loops.

A gentle tug brings you both into the dim light of the bedroom. Hands glide up his chest to settle along his shoulders as your lips part from his with a soft click. He takes slow breaths, mindful not to pull from your orbit.

Your arms drape languidly around his collar, fingers idly caressing the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Eyes blown wide with lust, starry and enchanting; if he’s not careful, Steve swears he could get lost in them.

A slow smile graces your lips as your hands drift to his chest— a soft push sends his back to the downy duvet while you nudge his legs apart.

“Honey,” he rasps, running a hand through his hair, watching your deft fingers pop the button on his jeans. “You don’t have to—“

A disapproving cluck from you as you unzip the fly. “But I want to, baby.”

Steve’s dick jumps.

Baby.

Sticky sweet falling like spun sugar from your ruddied lips. He groans, eyes screwing shut and head falling against the pillow. He’s as good as gone now; your intoxicating smile and the working of your dexterous hand, freeing him from the confines of his boxers and sealing his fate.

Because Steve isn’t used to this— being cared for. He plans the date, picks her up, pays for dinner, drives her home, and pretty much does all the heavy lifting in the bedroom. He’s a generous lover, or so he’s been told.

“If you’re down for a good time, call…”

So to say he’s unprepared when you get your mouth on him and sluice him up with lover’s spit, is an understatement.

Steve’s soul could leave his body at this moment and he would be none the wiser.

Not when your pretty little mouth is wrapped around his cock in a smile. It’s everything he can do not to blow his load right then and there.

You work him up easily. Not that it’s that difficult, because he really, really likes you. Your hand working in tandem with what your mouth can’t fit and Steve is losing his damn mind.

The sounds are obscene.

Wet sucks and licks from your mouth, moans as you sink him further down, crushing against your molars. Low whines pouring from his own mouth, begging,

“Oh, fuck. Jus’ like that— ohmygod your fucking mouth.”

His hands cradle your head tenderly, like he can’t bring himself to believe that this is happening. And as heavenly as your mouth is, Steve knows, deep in his bones, that he has to be inside of you.

Like, yesterday.

“Honey,” he says, fingers sweeping along your jaw, coaxing you to look up.

When your eyes meets his, Steve has to stave off an orgasm from a particularly harsh suck of your mouth.

“C’mere,” it comes out more desperate than he’d intended, but you don’t seem to mind.

Fingers wipe away the lover’s spit that had gathered on your mouth and chin, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What is it, baby?”

Your voice is a wrecked low rasp, and pulls at something primal in his guts. The weight of you settles against his lap, a wiggle of your hips stoking the heat trapped in his veins.

Steve takes a moment to study you: wild hair from the torment on his fingers, eyes warm and glassy, lips slick and revealing a bright flash of teeth. The strap of your dress falls from your shoulder and he wants nothing more than to wreck you.

As if you can read his mind, you wink and reach back to unzip the dress. You pull the fabric up and away inviting the moonlight to gleam against your skin.

It steals breath.

His hand reaches out to trace the curve of your breast, earning him a lustful sigh that falls from your open, panting mouth. You’re so soft under his fingertips, Steve wants to get his mouth back on you, he has to.

But then you pull your pantries to the side and, oh god, is that hotter than he thought it’d be— only to grip the hot, firm line of him against your petaled heat.

Steve goes to say something, anything to warn you, that he can’t possibly fit. That you’re not loosened up enough. He hasn’t even eaten you out or worked your open on his fingers.

But all that comes out is a groan as he disappears into the divine, wet heat between your thighs.

Jesus Christ in Heaven.

“S’okay, baby,” you coo. “I can take it.” You lean closer, hair tickling his neck and breath fanning against his skin, “I was made for you.”

Steve has no idea what comes out of his mouth at that. Just thrusts up uselessly, hands holding firm to the flare of your hips. You chuckle lowly and brace yourself against his chest, finger nails scraping along his skin.

You ride him like it’s your job, alternating slow, winding thrusts with quick, percussive ones. You’re so tight. And wet. And hot. Half-lidded eyes trained on him, changing your tempo to suit his pleasure.

Steve can feel himself growing warm, heat climbing up his neck and chest. A rag-doll beneath you, a sheen of sweat along his skin, mouth open in a wet gasp. The quirk of your lips sends a rush through his veins, a low keen falling from his lips.

“Slow down, gonna come if you keep that up.”

You settle into a slow, lazy roll of your hips, but just barely.

“Why, don’t you wanna come, baby?”

He’s in so deep that his skin blooms with a shudder when his cockhead kisses your cervix.

“Big and filling me up so well, Stevie.” A plaintive moan erupting from your lips, accompanied by a vicious clench of your walls. “God, you feel so good.”

Steve smiles delirious and completely captivated by you. Extricates a hand to drag you back down to him, rests your forehead against his, as if your souls could become intertwined, and kisses you like he’s a dying man.

And, hell, he might as well be.

“Fuck,” rushes out in a hoarse breath. “Fuck!”

The room spins out of control and he can feel you smiling against his collarbone. You wind your hips and flutter your walls against him, as Steve grinds deeply into you. Steadies himself by palming at your hips, thumbs tracing the jut of bone there, as if it would ground him.

His orgasm crashes on him like a tidal wave, bringing with it a sense of deja vu— you and him but in a different time and place. Your eyes and smile remain the same, as does the feeling— a bone-deep sense of home.

But the clothes are different, as are the words that fall from your lips. Dappled in light from the moon or sun, the images keep coming and so does Steve.

“Philtatos,” you gasp, reaching your peak with a full body shudder. Steve’s hands anchor you to him, points of heat flaring against your skin.

And it’s glorious— you are glorious. Moonlight cutting through the shade of night to illuminate your pleasure. The clench of your cunt is nearly enough to make him come all over again, and wrests a strained moan from the confines of his throat.

By the time Steve comes to his senses again, you’re sponging open-mouthed kisses and bites to his neck and chest, a hand laid over the steady beat of his heart. You wiggle against his hips and thighs, wet and sticky between your legs.

He clutches at your waist, breaths evening out once more. Fingers trace the curves of your ribcage while he revels in the comedown.

“What was that thing you said? Phil—“

The crescents of your nails drag delightfully against his skin. “Philtatos.”

“Yeah, that.” Steve’s hand settles at the nape of your neck, playing with your hair idly. “What does it mean?”

You hum contentedly, nearly melting at his touch and earning a raspy laugh form him.

“S’like a nickname,” you supply softly. “It’s Greek.”

He doesn’t press further. More interested in the working of his hands, wants you boneless and sated spread out before him. His cock kicks up at the thought.

“Baby,” you ask, syrupy sweet.

“Uh huh.” He’s woozy.

“What’s your refractory period like?”

A shiver courses up his spine. He laughs and shakes himself alive, pulling up to take you down to the mattress. You acquiesce easily, back arching and lips searching for him in the near dark.

“Okay honey,” he says with a knowing lilt and grin, “Now it’s my turn to fuck you.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fan fiction #stranger things fan fiction #fic: wstc #Spotify

250 notes · View notes

muirmarie · 4 months

Text

i do tho need to have mccoy dragged into any/all situations at all times. i need him to exist, and be sitting innocently by himself, and then be fully dragged into a Situation, be it a relationship or a girls' night or what have you.

the girls' night is my point, btw. i need:

the crew staying at a fancy hotel for a fancy work shindig

mccoy grabbing a drink by himself at the hotel bar

chapel and uhura dropping by to grab a drink (#pregaming) and making small talk with mccoy

them bullying him into coming upstairs to their room to show him something vaguely work related (looking back: this was clearly a lie)

he is now trapped in their room. they are getting ready to go out, but they're still talking to him. he is too southern gentleman polite to just leave.

his fingernails are getting painted. they actually look really great so he can't even complain. but he's going to complain anyway.

they are ignoring his complaining.

there are now five other women in this room. he's a little tipsy. someone is doing his eyeliner.

is he allowed to leave?

no, no chapel and uhura have informed him he's not allowed to leave. hmm.

oh, they're all going to a club.

uhura, he loves you, but he's a doctor, not a -

what a great point all twelve (12??) of you make. to the club he will go.

he's not a dancer, he's -

all right, he has been informed he's both a doctor and a dancer

i mean, this is actually pretty fun.

he does actually know how to dance quite well, he took lessons, he just -

chapel if you are filming this he is going to -

excuse him one moment someone is being a creep and he needs to go stand menacingly behind his girls (who will definitely clean the floor with said creep, but still.)

oh look jim kirk rushing to the rescue what a shocker

sorry jim i have been informed that i am not allowed to hang out with you and spock tonight. i am otherwise occupied.

christine, are they allowed to -

no, jim, you are not allowed to hang out with us. it's girls' night.

jim i swear to fuck this is not me not allowing you i don't even know why i am here jim i -

yes, spock, i am wearing nail polish. thank you. that's nice of you to say.

hold on, is nail polish something like???? sexy??? for vulcans???? because of y'alls hand kinks????

lmao jim look at how much he's blushing

i don't care how good i looked - if you took a video of me dancing james tiberius kirk i will end you. i will end -

oh wait sorry i have just been informed i have to go. we're going to another club.

(help me)

#star trek #star trek tos #st:tos #leonard mccoy #and a smidge of:#mcspirk #put that doctor in Situations!!!!!#anyway sometimes one just has to ramble into the void lmao sorry

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jflemings · 3 months

Text

— inevitable

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: jessie’s leaving chelsea which means she also has to leave you / part 2

warning: ANGSTTT, breakup but soft bc ur both still so in love, suggestive towards the end

a/n: i put my whole pegussy into this like…

It's inevitable everything that's good comes to an end

tears begin to cloud your vision, blurring the image of jessie standing in front of you in your living room “you’re not here for dinner, are you?”

the canadian looks down at her feet “no” she mumbles, almost shamefully “i’m sorry”

you knew she was being honest. you could see it all over her face, this was something that she didn’t want to do to either of you. if you know jessie well, and you do, you know that she would’ve gone over a million and one different scenarios in her head before landing on this one. she would’ve tried to come up with a solution that suited the both of you, one that ensured she wouldn’t end up standing in your apartment breaking up with you the way she is now.

unfortunately, life hasn’t worked out that way.

“no, jess. i get it” you say softly, trying your best to put on a brave face “this is for your career, your future”

she shakes her head almost immediately at your words “you— you are my future” she rushes, eyes wide in an effort to show you she’s being honest.

you can’t help but sigh and hold your hand out to her, urging her to take it. she does so delicately, her fingers curving into your palm slowly as she lets you guide her to the spot next to you on the couch. she keeps her distance but continues to hold your hand as a means of keeping grounded and secure in the moment she’s been dreading since she made her decision.

the mascara that you applied this morning is now making its way down your face and you use your free hand to swipe under your eyes “i’m not anymore” you whisper to her “and that’s okay” the small smile on your face isn’t convincing at all, but it’s the best you’ve got “i’m so proud of you”

that seems to completely break jessie. her brave face crumbles in a matter of seconds, she finally lets the tears that have slowly been building stream down her face, choked sobs escaping her throat “th-is wasn’t what i wanted, i swear” she emphasised “i tried to find another way and i just couldn’t”

you run your fans soothingly up the length of her spine “baby i know, i know” you coo into her ear “but you’re gonna go to portland and you’re gonna have the fucking time of you life, jessie” you swipe your thumbs under her eyes “christine and janine are gonna take such good care of you”

“that doesn’t make me feel any better”

“but it makes me feel better” you mumble “knowing somebody is gonna have your back”

she leans her head on your shoulder silently, the hand that’s running up and down her back never pausing. the two of you sigh and catch your breath, both breathing deep to try to calm yourselves. you’ve broken up with people and been broken up with before, but none of them have ever made you feel the way you feel right now. you swear you can actually feel your heart breaking in your chest, splinter fine cracks splitting it open over and over again like you’re reliving the moment whilst still being in it. this is more then just some breakup, this is the love of your life, and you are actually losing her.

“you’re the one” she sniffles “this is temporary i swear, one day i’ll make you my wife and we’ll have a life together and this will all be worth it” the midfielder looks up at you from her position on your shoulder “there won’t be anyone else. not in this lifetime”

before you can even think of what to say you’re shaking your head in disagreement “no, no, no jess. you can’t treat this as a waiting period” you whisper forcefully, causing jessie’s eyes to well up again “you need to live your life without me, see all it has to offer! this is only your second professional contract you have no idea where you’ll end up–”

“with you. i’ll end up with you” she cuts you off fiercely and grips both your hands tightly “this move is for my career but my future is with you. i know what i’m talking about, y/n, please don’t treat me like i don’t”

she leaves you speechless and you can’t help but feel a bit guilty for the way you’re behaving. you’re not intentionally pushing her away, god only knows you want to wrap your arms around her and never let go, but you don’t want to hold her back.

“jess i swear i’m not, i just…” you pause and purse your lips “i just don’t want you to make up your mind so quickly, you don’t know what kind of people are in portland” it’s a weak attempt at a reason but you at least want to put the idea in her head. breakups are miserable, especially when you’re not going to have the support system you’ve been building for the past four years around you.

that’s what worried you the most, that perhaps sinc and janine wouldn’t be enough for jessie. you knew that the bond the three of them shared was unbreakable but they were no niamh.

jessie let’s go of your hands as her eyes go wide “do… do you want to see other people?” she whispers the question like she’s afraid of the answer and you feel your heart once again breaking

“no” you say sternly “what i want is for you to stay here with me so that i can put you in my pocket and keep you forever” you try to joke, earning at least a smile out of the woman in front of you “but this isn’t about me” you smile sadly.

she takes your hands again, running her finger over your currently unoccupied ring finger “one day it will be” she assures quietly before looking into your eyes. she lets go of your hands and grabs the sides of your face, not giving you any warning before she kisses you.

you’re both crying, and you can feel the heaviness of jessie’s heart, but that doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter because she’s kissing you more fiercely then she ever has before, and she’s giving all the love she has for you back. jessie wants you to take it and to keep it all for yourself. she wants you to always have a part of her heart with you, even though you own all of it.

she wants to know that she’s not leaving you loveless when she gets on that plane.

you seperate from her, leaving about an inch of space between your lips “stay” you mumble

her eyes close momentarily “y/n–”

“jess, please” you cry “just tonight and then– then it’s over, i swear” you plead, almost beg, to her as you grip the hem of her shirt tightly.

“we’re meant to be breaking up” she sighs sadly

your hands ball up in her shirt “we are” you assure “but please let me have tonight”

jessie caresses your cheek lovingly, pudding stray bits of hair out of your face. her brown eyes droop as the sadness weighs them down, a fresh wave of tears spilling over her waterline. she kisses you harder than before, slowly standing and bringing you with her. you know that this is the best answer she can give you, that if she were to speak her voice would betray her and break.

“no one else” she says against your lips “my forever”

you smile sadly and wrap your arms around her neck as she hoists you up onto her waist. she walks her way to your bedroom blindly, having done this a thousand times by now, and lightly kicks open the door. instead of laying you down like she normally would, she sits you down on the edge and grasps your chin in between her thumb and forefinger.

“you’re so beautiful” she whispers, her thumb stroking your chin lightly as you look up at her through glassy eyes.

“just tonight, i swear” you whisper back to her. the room is clouded by sadness and all you want to do is keep her here with you. you want to be selfish and tell her that this will work through long distance and that the two of you can make it, but you know that’s not true.

the love is real and true between the two of you, but it’s also fierce and passionate and sometimes hard to handle. you and jessie both know that if you stayed together you’d eventually run yourselves and your careers into the ground, the distance would only break you. but right now she’s yours, even if she won’t be in twenty four hours, she is right now.

“just tonight” she murmurs

#pegs writes #pegs woso #jessie fleming #jessie fleming fic #jessie fleming blurb #jflem #woso fic #woso angst #woso blurb #woso x reader #woso imagine #jessie fleming x reader #Spotify

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gravedigginbbydoll · 8 months

Text

Hawkins University : The Munson Edition

AN: Hey y'all! I'm sorry for the brief hiatus, this past week has been insane. Working at a University is NOT FOR THE WEAK. I've been doing quite shit tbh (blame crazies and my job). Anyways, this chapter is a little sad (I'm so sorry, I swear there'll be comfort later). Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Also pls remember reblogs and comments are appreciated ! I love feedback!

→ cliches: friends to lovers, heavy use of nicknames instead of Y/N, we're all just struggling college kids, Music Tutor! Eddie, Resident Assistant! Reader, good girl x bad boy, instant connections, 'I don't trust most people but I trust you', 'are we friends or more?', and 'I can't believe you're such a slut that you have a special dtf drawer...'

→ warnings: mature topics, insecurity, hurt and comfort, drinking and drug usage, strong language, bullying, mental health, discussion of suicide and self harm, mature thoughts, eventual smut, minors dni

→ pairing: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader

Chapter 6

Bugs POV

It had been two weeks since your sleepover. You had found yourself staying over on weekends, you and Eddie falling into even more of a comfortability with one another. You both discussed everything under the sun, getting to know all the intricacies behind the other. You learned Eddie loved his tattoos and hated needles, how his family was really from nearby Hawkins but he often refused to go home due to his reputation in town. He let you know how he was the town pariah as an openly bisexual metalhead delinquent and how Hawkins was the first place he began to feel like himself. You learned he loved thrift stores and record shops, could live off of cereal and beer, and hated the smell of overly fruity vape juice (“If it fucking smells like a middle school girls locker room, why would you smoke it?”). You even learned that Eddie had a…reputation…on campus. You hadn’t heard about it until your American Government class, where the girl behind you (Christine?) had been giggling with her friends about the way the ‘punk guy who deals’ had fulfilled her ‘wildest dreams’. She went further into detail, but you tried to zone her out at that.

Anyways, you decided to help Eddie out to face his fear of changing his major. Which led you here.

You were standing at the door of the Advising Office, Eddie fidgeting beside you. You could feel his anxiety rolling off of him in waves. Eddie was often an overthinker, but equipped at hiding it with putting on a show. He tended to not do so around you, though. You reached out gingerly, grabbing onto his elbow, the denim jacket he wore soft and worn from use against your hand.

“Eds, it’ll be okay. I’ll be right here. I promise,” You softly whispered, eyes searching his face to try and get him to meet your gaze.

His brown eyes met yours, full of worry as he gulped. He looked back towards the doors, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I don’t know if I can do this, Bug. What if Wayne-”

You cut him off with a light smack to his elbow, rolling your eyes playfully. “You specifically called Wayne to talk about this. I was there. He just wants you to be happy. I remember because you put him on speaker and I still could barely hear the man.”

Eddie sighed, nodding and huffing out a breath before he headed to the door, marching inside. You smiled, your heart squeezed softly in pride. Eddie had talked with you and leaned toward Music Therapy. He felt something tug him towards helping young kids through music, letting you in on a small bit of his own struggles. You were grateful and didn’t push, only being told that he had ‘gone through some mental distress’ last year, causing him to get put in inpatient for a bit, falling behind in classes. You recalled his face as he sat on his bed with you, strumming Sweetheart (his electric guitar) softly, voice shaky with emotion.

“The only thing that called out to me was music. I just want to be there for people who feel the same way.”

You were snapped out of your thoughts as Eddie exited the office, face in a soft smile, eyes watery with tears. You rushed over, worry sinking in.

“What happened? Is it too late to enter those classes? Eds, I-”

“I filled out the application to switch over. She told me that it may take a few days, but because I was within the music department anyways, it wouldn’t be a difficult switch. I have to wait to take some of the courses, but I can drop my two Production courses without penalty,” He sighed softly, his tone full of relief as he looked down at you, blinking away tears before hastily pulling you into a hug. He squeezed you softly, mumbling thank yous into your hair, clear relief flooding into your system. Eddie was affectionate and loved touch, so you were glad he was feeling better.

You squeezed back, heart soaring.

Everything was going to be okay.

You stood in the local Rosa’s Costumes, the store filled to the brim with props and clothing. It was a favorite of the theater department at Hawkins and had been running for years. You and Eddie were among the clearly haunted prop items and section of the store that was for some reason themed as pirates. Eddie was perusing the hundreds of clothing and costumes on the aging racks, the familiar smell of Rosa’s incense wafting through the store.

“I don’t think we should go as anything basic, because we are anything but,” Eddie stated cheekily, wiggling his brows over at you.

You felt your stomach twist and turn as you plastered on a smile as best as you could. Eddie was referring to the Kappa Nu party that he had extended an invite to you to. You knew Eddie usually sold at parties and while it made you nervous (he had called you his favorite little square after you expressed concern), you were more anxious at the idea of being anywhere near the Kappa Nu house. You knew it boasted the hottest girls in Hawkins and it would be packed tight with bodies on Halloween night.

You originally had a plan of doing what you always did with Eddie: renting a lot of campy horror movies and cuddling on the couch while drinking and Eddie would smoke, the two of you laughing at the practical effects. And then maybe after you’d head into town to see the local Ghost Walk that occasionally came through detailing all the spooky haunted places in town with an over the top narrator.

But Eddie had burst into your study period at the library with Nancy, excitedly telling you about his success in his new courses and his ability to catch up. He called for a celebration as Nancy laughed and bid the two of you goodbye to head into work. Then he told you about getting an invitation to Kappa Nu, his eyes twinkling with excitement. And honestly…

How could you have said no to that face?

So now you were here, in a theater kids wet dream of a store, thumbing through costumes to try and stumble upon an idea. Eddie was zipping up and down aisles, a pep in his step. He was recently more animated and less stressed, the clear joy from his new classes clear as day. It warmed your heart.

Eddie grabbed your hand, walking briskly toward an aisle before turning to grin that megawatt smile at you. “I think I just had the perfect idea,” He gushed, turning back around to lead you with determination, clearly on a mission.

You felt your heart race and face heat up as tingles ran up and down your arms. Eddie was unaware but your crush was carving and worming it’s way deeper into your heart, the affliction becoming harder to ignore. You tried to tell yourself that it was better this way, Eddie being too good of a friend to pass up. But every hug, every cuddle, and every warm cheek kiss led to more and more of an entanglement, your mind at war with your heart.

Even Robin began to notice. You told her there was no way he would like you back, what with being Eddie, but she wouldn’t hear your excuses. She stated that it was clear that the two of you were ‘dumbass lovesick puppies’ who ‘couldn’t read the room worth shit’. You had finished the conversation at that, seeing a resident come up to the desk, and the last thing you needed was your hall gossiping about your romantic life or lack thereof.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Eddie let go of your hand, grabbing for a ridiculously large leather jacket with a huge collar, clearly meant as a biker or greaser costume. You cocked your head at Eddie, eyebrows furrowed while you fought back a smile.

“What are you doing with that thing?”

“We can go as The Driller Killer and an 80’s girl! From Slumber Party Massacre 2!,” Eddie said excitedly, his dimples appearing as his grin grew.

You laughed a bit, shaking your head with a smile. Eddie would pick the campy serial killer who was based off of a greaser and had an electric guitar with a murdering drill on the neck. It was perfect.

“Sure, why not?,” You laughed a bit as Eddie grabbed your hand immediately to drag you off in search of the other pieces.

Maybe the party wouldn’t be so bad.

You were standing on the front lawn of the large white mansion, knees shaky as you felt your stomach churn. Suddenly your makeup felt stupid and your clothes too tight. You tugged on the jean shorts and blue cropped t-shirt you wore, your body feeling as though it burst into flames. Eddie grabbed your hand, squeezing it and giving you a soft smile.

“It’ll be okay, Bug,” He said softly.

You looked up at him, his hair coiffed carefully with the rest back in a bun, his large ridiculous leather jacket and tight jeans still looking like a dream on him. He wore the fake cutout prop of the guitar drill slung on his back and some fake blood splatter across the thing. Even in his campy get up, and laughable oversized leather collar, he looked adorable. You pinched your own leg discreetly, trying to curb the feelings.

You nodded up at him, squeezing his hands and turning to face the house once again, walking toward it. Once you entered, you felt your senses become overwhelmed. You saw flashing lights and a million bodies stuffed within the house. The smell of weed and alcohol along with perfume, cologne, sweat, and sugar lingered in the air, making your head spin. You felt the bass of the music playing inside vibrate through the floor, traveling through your bones almost. You clung to Eddie, feeling as if you’d either vomit or faint if you let go. Eddie rubbed your hand softly, leading you deeper inside to the kitchen, the room’s island filled with various bottles and bar piled high with boxes and cans of soda, Twisted Teas, Trulys, White Claws, a large plastic tub of bright pink alcohol brimming with fruit. Eddie grabbed a cup with ice and a coke can and the Jack Daniels bottle, quickly mixing up a Jack and Coke for you. He handed you the cup, your fingers brushing as you grabbed the sticky red plastic. Your heart sped up as your whole body felt a burst of heat and electricity. You tried to brush it off.

“Thanks, Ed,” You shouted over the music as he nodded softly at you, a smile on his lips.

You took a sip, determined to let loose and forget this impending tornado of feelings swirling in you. You could be calm. You could let go.

Eddie grabbed himself a beer, smiling at you and pointing to turn your attention towards Robin and Steve, the two clearly already intoxicated. They were dressed like Doc Brown and Marty, Robin amusingly dressed as the doctor (though she had removed the wig and was twirling it in the air it seemed) and Steve dressed as Marty, puffer jacket and all. You laughed, waving at them. Robin waved, and elbowed Steve to wave back.

Jonathan and Argyle appeared then, dressed as Cheech and Chong. Jonathan smiled at Eddie as Argyle nodded at the two of you.

“Killer costumes, dudes. No one appreciates campy horror these days,” He mused, taking a sip of his soda.

Jonathan furrowed his brows and shook his head, clearly not as aware of the reference to your costumes as Argyle. He was about to open his mouth when Steve and Robin came up. Steve slung his arm around Jonathan’s shoulder while holding his half empty cup in the other hand, grinning.

“Wassup guys? I- I had a little too mu-much,” Steve hiccuped, grinning.

You laughed softly, covering your mouth with your hand. Steve could be a bit of a worrywart and mother hen, so it was nice to see him let loose on these occasions.

“Hey-hey….psst….Roomie!,” Steve frantically whispered to Eddie, causing Eddie to grin a bit.

“Yes, roomie?,” Eddie teased, clearly keeping a mental note of the interaction to tease Steve for later.

“I- I saw that hot girl you’ve been see-ing a bi-bit…here…She was over t-there,” Steve slurred, lifting a weak finger to point behind you.

You felt your stomach churn. Eddie had been seeing someone? You knew he hooked up with plenty of people before but had put a pause on it for a bit. You looked up to Eddie out of the corner of your eye, seeing his face pale a bit as he faked a laugh, eyes guarded as he tried to change the subject. Was he hiding a girl from you? Something serious? Your heart raced as you felt as though a thorned vine wrapped around it, squeezing and puncturing it, your mind going through every scenario.

While lost in your thoughts, Steve lost his footing and slipped from Jonathan's grip, losing his hold on his drink. The bright pink liquid mostly splattering on your shirt, making you come to your senses while also feeling anxiety bubble up and tears sting the back of your eyes,.

“Oh-Oh Bu-bug I’m soo sorry, I-,” Steve blubbered, eyes wide in panic as he looked at you and you felt your walls come up. You needed to get out of here.

“It’s okay. I’m just gonna go clean up,” You said softly to the group, eyes with a blank stare as you pushed through the crowd to go upstairs.

You happened upon a miraculously empty bathroom, entering and wetting a towel while dabbing at the bright blue shirt, actions getting more frantic as your vision began to blur. You began to feel your hands shake as you sobbed softly,

You were a fool.

Girls like you didn’t get Eddie Munson. Girls like you didn’t get dates, period. You studied and worked snitchy jobs and lost sleep over not pleasing people. You avoided new things and never stepped out of your comfort zone. You pinpointed every flaw in the mirror until it was all you could see. Boys like Eddie Munson knew nothing but kindness and courage, building a thick skin, and women pinning and giggling after them. Eddie Munson knew adventures and spontaneity, he knew dates with people and sudden hookups. Hell, he knew sorority girls.

You leaned over the bathroom counter, the sobs wracking your body now as you lost control. You felt your insides twist and turn and pull. You were a lost cause. You couldn’t lose your friendship, but you felt the feelings pouring out of your skin and bones, shattering your insides.

You sobbed more, scratching your throat raw, your whole body aching with pain.

It hurt. Knowing you were not enough.

You should’ve known it was coming, as it did always, but you felt it so deeply now that you wouldn’t soon forget.

You sobbed until there were no more tears left, hands gripping the counter as you looked up to assess the damage. Your bright blue eyeshadow and liner were now muddy splotches on your face, swirling colors. You sighed, wetting the towel again, going to scrub off the evidence, your heart sinking.

You’d have to put walls up. You wouldn’t give up Eddie. Just…be more realistic.

You scrubbed until your face was rubbed raw and felt warm from all the friction of the scratchy guest bathroom towel, your mind and heart too fresh with pain to consider the germs. You splashed some water on your face before beginning to head down,

You headed down the stairs when you spotted it in the dark corner of the crowded room.

Eddie. And a petite blonde.

She was giggling at something he said as they talked, her hand on his arm. She was dressed as a cheerleader, the costume clearly a real uniform from her days in high school. Eddie was speaking animatedly with her, clearly unaware of your current state.

You raced down the stairs, dodging bodies as you zoomed past Argyle, barely hearing him call out as you rushed out the building, heading outside to the cold and lonely air.

Fuck Halloween.

Taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles @corrodedcoffincumslut @kirisuteg0men @bebe07011 @amira0303 @vintagehellfire @lottie-90

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woah-uhuh-uhuh-uhuh · 7 months

Text

Christine Canigula was socially ostracized & developed a complex to protect herself: an essay

(suddenly i NEED to infodump about Christine actually so here)

Something I only noticed on rewatch: the way Christine will say something silly and then just kind of gingerly wait to see if Jeremy reacts well to it before continuing, almost like she's asking permission?? (e.g. the gap after the first stanza of "Play Rehearsal"). And it's only after he riffs off her bowling alley bit that she feels comfortable talking about her personal feelings with him (right before "Guy that I'd Kinda be Into"). The same happens with their "weird noise" exchange immediately before "It's pretty killer to sit and chat with you." I know theater relies on being succinct, and that 'bonding over shared quirks' and 'feelings talk' are both just crucial parts of relationship development... but I don't think it's a coincidence that it always goes in that order!

It's like Jeremy has to pass these *trials of weirdness* before she feels safe opening up to him and it drives me BONKERS so I wrote a whole 1000 word thing about it under the cut and this got too massive and I'm sorry. Also some autistic Jeremy meta at the end if that sweetens the pot hehehe

Table of contents:

Why she was ostracized

How she was ostracized

How that might inform her pattern of relationship development with Jeremy and Jake

How gender caused Jeremy's experiences to differ from hers, and how that affects their current relationships with "popularity" and peer acceptance.

1. Why she was ostracized

I am just so certain that Christine has been bullied or at least majorly outcast for a lot of her life. She's very obviously neurodivergent and because of that she can have these obnoxiously deep and repetitive interests, she can't judge if a piece of information will be genuinely interesting to someone, and she doesn't take social cues very well.

She frequently interrupts people when they're talking (an ADHD symptom btw), even when they're literally talking to her about the thing she wants to hear!

(C: "Do you find that? Because I totally find that!" J: "Uh, yeah, I-" C: "-And no matter how hard I try....")

(J: "I know the last thing I deserve is another shot, but-" C:"Jeremy, just... say what's on your mind.") (girl I'm sorry but that's what he was doing..... I have a whole other thoughtpiece on how this particularly fucks with Jeremy while they're dating but thats another thing...)

She doesn't seem confident in her interpretations of people's emotions and she'll ask/talk about them point blank (both theirs and her own) in a way a lot of people would find rude

("Uh, you seem really nervous...") ("Popular people are fucked up! *mutual laughter* …I mean, you're one of them!") ("I am flattered, this is new / still I'm not sure what I should do" <- as a response to getting asked out, that's pretty bold! Plus the entire part where she laughs at Jake's "rich boy routine") (also compare and contrast to Jeremy's "I don't know what I'm supposed to say right now." idk. are your allistic stage dorks in the room with us right now motherfuckers)

I'd go on about her hyperfixations/special interests too but I think Play Rehearsal pretty much sums it up lol

2. How she was ostracized

All this to say that I am CERTAIN she spent a lot of her schooling having "nice girls" patiently let her sit with them at lunch for weeks at a time until they finally get sick of her rambling and faux pas. Only when they leave does Christine realize that they didn't actually care about anything she said... And this happens over and over and over. (I know this seems hella specific but I swear it's an actual phenomenon... at least I'm pretty sure? sdjflksjf)

But anyway, it's clear that by the time they're juniors, Christine has kind of (and I do only mean kind of) figured out what behaviour other people respond poorly to. And from evidence I stated in the intro, I think she's become really careful about which people she lets herself get attached to. She doesn't want this to ever happen again - which means if she's going to hang out with someone, she has to know that they actually care about her, that they know she will sometimes be obnoxious or blunt, and they'll still be okay with that forever.

3. Applying this to her canon relationships

You can extend this to Jake, someone who sees her in her element in drama rehearsal (the thing everyone finds annoying about her because she won't shut up about it) and STILL likes her. I think it's a totally valid reading that her bluntness with him later ("Upgrade") is just because she misreads him / doesn't quite get the social standard that she should be white lying instead. But I think you could also read her as testing the waters. If she's really going to commit to dating this guy, she's gotta know he's okay with her being herself. And the fact that this guy (and I think it's significant that he is a boy, for reasons I'll explain in the end note) genuinely seems to like her is a whole new level of peer validation ("I am flattered, this is new") -- so of course she's gonna fall at least a little! It doesn't hurt that he's "tired of being the person that everyone thinks that I am..." just like her!

Her history with being pity-liked makes Chloe's "advice," that Jake's just toying with her and is going to move on soon, even scarier, because that's genuinely happened to her (on a platonic level) so many times before.

Jeremy is also a good candidate from the beginning because he's weird he's a weirdo he doesn't fit in and he doesn't wanna fit in you ever see him without this stupid cardigan on? that's weird! And she keeps warming up to him not only because they're getting to know each other but because he gets progressively more willing to not only tolerate (as Jake does) but *participate* in her weirdness!

First, she does something weird and he tolerates it ("Play Rehearsal"); the next time she's weird, he participates! (bowling ball before GTIKBI). Then finally finally finally he initiates the weirdness and lets her join in! ("weird noises" exchange before GTIKBI reprise).

And notably, it is THIS moment that canonically signifies that they've hit the apex of their canon relationship development. If there was an achievement called "Befriend Christine," it would have popped up right then and there!!!

IN CONCLUSION: YOUR HONOR I LOVE THEM T_T

4: Christine vs. Jeremy: Gender differences & how that ultimately impacts their social goals

I also think all of this would have happened to Jeremy too if he'd been a girl. But because, generally, young boys feel less social obligation than girls to take pity on the autistic kid (and because boys tend to be more quickly recognized as autistic) he just ends up completely alone for most of his school life (Michael nonwithstanding - and yeah there's an important distinction between your childhood friend putting up with you and knowing that, woah, I guess literally nobody else ever will).

Meanwhile, Christine has had people "put up" with her, and she's SICK OF IT!

That's part of why their complexes are so different, because Christine is trying to check everyone she meets to make sure they'll be okay with her weirdness before she gets attached, Jeremy is trying to eliminate his weirdness altogether because he's never even experienced his peers listening out of *pity* so how the hell can he expect someone to ever listen to him out of *interest?*

Jeremy has never had someone pretend to like him before, so he completely lacks Christine's fear of befriending someone who secretly hates you. He doesn't realize how bad it'll hurt him if he destroys his real self for popularity, if he befriends people who would have bullied his real self. He doesn't know what disingenuous friendship feels like, so like a very young Christine he's still actively trying to get there because he thinks it's the only kind of validation he'll ever get.

Do you see what im saying? Do you see it???? AUAUGUGUUGGH

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! If you have thoughts or even rebuttals please share i am so desperate to discuss the blorbos

#theres gender theres autism theres stagedorks what more could you want #bmc #be more chill #christine bmc #christine canigula #jeremy heere #stagedorks #bmc meta #my posts #meta #essay #my meta #jeremy #christine #character analysis #guys academia ruined me actually #this literally genuinely hits the full word count requirement for a midterm paper i was supposed to start writing today #but instead i did this

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y0ur-fr1endly-queer · 4 days

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Wip, I’m doing like a split screen ‘past the point of no return’ drawing w/ christine, I hope it turns out good bcs I like this rough sketch so far

Its really messy 💀 itll get better I swear, and I might change a few things around

#sketch #art wip #digital art #fanart #phantom of the opera #poto #wip

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refiwrites · 2 years

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Weddings and Butterflies

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Fem! Avenger! Reader

Requested?: Yes.

Summary: After being invited to Christine's wedding, you also come across the person you haven't seen for the longest time.

WC: 2.6k

Warning/s: MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS! fluff, little bit of angst, anxiety mentions lmk if i missed anything

Note: after watching MoM I have fallen harder for this man I swear... feebacks, reblogs and likes are appreciated! let me know what you think!

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

The door opened with a clicking sound, filling the silence of the empty apartment as you walked in, phone to your ear as you shut the door with the use of your feet.

“....(Y/N), the wedding’s tomorrow, I was wondering if you’d make it- or you’d like to come, it would be nice seeing you again ever since..” Christine spoke through your phone.

You took off your shoes, placing them by the door as you placed your things on the counter.

“Oh, Christine, I’d love to come by, congratulations again, I can’t believe it.” You reply, walking over to the living room. You sat on the soft sofa, getting into a much more comfortable position.

It never felt like time had passed, you even wonder if the rest of the world even remembered some of you.

You stared at the window in front of you that showcased the buildings along with the night sky.

Five minutes. All it took was five minutes and after you were thrown back onto reality again, five years had passed. It took almost a toll on everybody, with all the family and friends they feared are long gone, suddenly popping out of nowhere from when they were stood as the blip happened.

You, luckily enough, were able to lay low for a while, build your life back up again, reconnected with some friends, yet you never thought of reconnecting with the other Avengers.

The dull ache was still there in your heart at the events that occurred. Every once in a while giving you a reminder when you’d wake up in cold sweat.

You blinked as you didn’t register what Christine had said seconds before, “Wait, come again?” You say.

“I said Stephen’s going to be there too. I.. I don’t know if its a right decision to invite him since... well, he agreed, that’s what matters right? And I think he could use a familiar face like yours.”

Stephen. Stephen Strange.

You’ve seen him, you’ve fought alongside him, yet you never once remembered talking to him. He was going to be there.

You knew of their relationship before, but after the blip it seemed like things have gotten worse for him, or so you thought.

“Oh? Stephen? If he accepted then I think it’s not that bad.” You comforted her.

Your mind instantly wandering to the thought of Stephen. Why were you getting anxious? You’re an Avenger just as he is.

“I think so, but hey, I gotta get going, there’s still too many to fix for tomorrow.” Christine said.

“A bride needs her rest, doesn’t she? I can’t wait to see you tomorrow, congrats again Christine.” You responded before bidding each other goodbye and hanging up.

You stared at your phone for a minute, your reflection from the screen staring right at you.

Tomorrow. Wedding. Stephen.

You sigh with closed eyes. How bad could it be?

You stood up and immediately went to your room, you felt like you needed rest much earlier than before.

Waking up, you realized it was already morning. You were afraid you were already late when you glanced at the time.

9:00 AM

You sigh in relief, the wedding wasn’t until an hour, so you had the right amount of time to prepare.

Standing up and opening your closet, you settled on picking out a cowl neck slit maxi dress, along with a heel ankle strapped sandals to go along with it.

You yawned, covering your mouth. You blinked a few times, staring at the outfit you had planned. It looks good.

Then it was time to take a shower.

After that, you wrapped yourself up with the towel, going over to the mirror to dry your hair.

You glanced at the time, a solid 20 minutes before the wedding starts, and it was just the right time to go from here to the church.

You got dressed, straightening out the dress that hugged your figure perfectly. Having no time to struggle with the sandals, with a flick of your wrist as your feet wore it, the straps moved themselves to lock it in place.

You look in the mirror again, mustering a smile you were ready to give later. “The hair...” You mutter.

You shrug, making another movement with your hands to make the desired hairstyle happen. “That’s more like it.”

You went over to your drawer to grab a purse that matched, as well as a gold bracelet to complete your look.

You found yourself staring one last time in the mirror before nodding to yourself. “All right, let’s do this.”

The car ride from the church was tense, because it was the first time you’d be around many people publicly, at a wedding. You didn’t mind, sure, but some of the people were found to be hating, complaining that their lives had been ruined because of you.

“We’re here, miss.” The driver said. You thanked him, paying the amount before getting off the car. There were people already piling up with smiles on their faces.

You tried to make yourself look subtle, walking forward to find yourself a seat. You felt a few gazes on your way as the chatter grew.

By being too busy making yourself look subtle, you were unaware of the figure also standing to look for somebody as you bumped onto them, making you stumble back a bit until they had grab a hold of your wrist. You were looking down at their hand when you realize it was someone in a rather fancy suit.

“I’m sorry I should’ve...” You began, your eyes making the mistake of travelling upwards to meet the man’s eyes.

Cold hard blue-grey ones pierced into yours, making your words suddenly halt. You realized who this was, and how unfortunate you were to bump into him this early.

With his black hair accompanied by grey streaks on the sides, styled perfectly, his suit made him even more appealing. You realized your thoughts, mentally smacking yourself.

“Y- I’m sor-“

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” He spoke, his voice thick as he looked at you, letting go of your wrist to let you stand upright. “Christine didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head, his other hand delicately holding the wedding invitation that he got. His heart almost felt destitute of what he was about to witness, he knew Christine was happy, who was he to destroy her life? He knew it in his mind that she deserved better, and attending this wedding may as well be the closure he needed.

But things took a turn as he unexpectedly bumped into you. Stephen could note that he saw you before. Fighting alongside him. And even coming close to saving his ass a few times that he noticed.

“No, no she didn’t.” Stephen spoke. Seeing you in this way rather than messed from a fight had a slight change in thought in his mind that he ignored, still looking at you.

You both ended up looking at each other for a few good seconds before he clears his throat, moving back and gesturing to the seat. He doesn’t usually do that but he finds himself speaking. “Here, take a seat. I think it’ll start soon anyway.”

“Oh, thank you... Stephen.” You say, saying his name felt weird, thinking you should’ve just left it at thanks.

For Stephen, however, his name roll off on your tongue for the first time loud and clear had the tips of his ears tinging pink. “Yeah, no worries. “

Why was he acting this way? Acting like he was having a love at first sight moment. But you looked different from the battlefield to just... normally. He hasn’t known a lot about you, but he knows you could fight good and he respects that.

Watching you sit, he takes the one beside you, fidgeting with the invitation as the chatter resumed behind you.

As you sat, Stephen did the same beside you, both your knees brushing for a brief moment, sending warmth to your cheeks. What on earth, you couldn’t possibly be feeling like this right now? Could you..? For heaven’s sake you weren’t even sure if you could call yourselves friends yet after saving the whole world.

Stephen decided to flush out the things he felt at the moment, deciding to talk with you before the wedding started as people started taking their seats.

You didn’t know why, but as the longer the both of you talked and teased made you instantly comfortable around him.

Even as the ceremony progressed, you and Stephen were silently chuckling and smiling at each other. You even somehow forget what you were nervous about when meeting him.

Though as some might say he was intimidating and a jerk, yes, he was intimidating, but the second one? You thought not so much of, he seemed nice, genuine.

After the ceremony however, came the reception.

Everyone started standing up, getting ready to head for the reception when you realized you haven’t got a ride. But then it seemed like your prayers were answered in a mere second.

“I’ve got my car back there, seeming as you’re not leaving yet, you want to go to the reception together?” Stephen asks, standing up.

You knew better than to pass it up, so you agreed.

Arriving at the place, some looks were given your way as you arrived with Stephen. Some were smiling and pointing, some were even shocked. And some of course wanted some pictures.

The two of you, knowing better, agreed to their requests.

“So are you two together?” One guest asked, an elderly man with glasses. Your eyes widened as Stephen cleared his throat.

“Oh, oh, no. We’re not..” You shyly say. Stephen slowly shakes his head.

“Aw that’s a shame, you two look great together, and now will you excuse me I’m going to grab myself more of the food here. Its great.” The man said, walking past the both of you.

You and Stephen stared at the man, before staring at each other, then bursting out of laughter.

As the ceremony at the reception progressed, you can’t help but feel emotional as both Christine and her husband took their first dance. You could genuinely see how happy Christine looked and you couldn’t be happier for her. You almost swore you were about to cry when they were looking at each other so dearly.

Grabbing a glass of champagne at the small bar, you took a sip before sighing.

Stephen, however, was busy talking with Christine as she approached him.

“Congratulations.” Stephen says, looking at her for a few seconds before averting his gaze away. “Thank you, Stephen.”

“I could tell you’re really happy.”

Christine sighs, nodding and smiling. “I am.” She tilted her head to ask him. “But are you? Are you happy?”

Stephen felt the sudden weight on his shoulders. Was he happy?

The thing is, he doesn’t know.

Stephen nods, preparing yet another lie. “Yeah, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Christine seemed to take it well, but deep down she knows Stephen deserved someone that truly loved him the way she did. And she could see one person who’s just that. You.

“I’m glad you’re happy, Stephen. Whatever that’s going on with you right now, that’ll be over soon. I do hope you find someone, I truly do.” Christine says, but she could see you on the bar, having a drink.

“You’ll never know maybe that someone’s just around the corner.” Christine said.

Stephen wanted to shut his ears, to not listen, but who would that work out for? He’d only make things worse for himself. So he listened, taking her words in. He attended this wedding to find the closure he wanted and that’s what he did get, along with Christine being finally happy.

Stephen looks down, biting the inside of his cheek. “Yes, thank you, Christine.”

Christine laid a hand on his forearm in comfort.

“Christine! Congratulations!” Came your voice from behind them. Stephen perks his head up, turning around as Christine approached you, he saw the champagne in your hand and the bar behind, making a mental note to grab himself a drink as we walked, bidding the two of you to talk.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I’m really glad you can make it, along with Stephen.” She says.

You shake your head. “Of course, you’re almost like a sister to me. I’m really happy to see you up there.”

“Thank you, and speaking of happy, I noticed you and Stephen...” Christine trailed off, a mischievous smile gracing her lips. Your cheeks warmed as you laugh, trying to deny it. “No, no, not gonna happen, Christine.”

She shakes her head. “I saw you two earlier, you looked cute, and besides, you two would make a great pair one day.”

“That’s going to take a long time.” You joked. “Hey, if it means the two of you ending up together then why not? It seems to me you’re the only one person Stephen loved to talk to today, he’s interested in you. Trust me, I know him.”

Your cheeks were still warm as you were flustered. “Just see where it goes, who knows, you’re the one that I trust the most, if Stephen ends up with you then I couldn’t be happier.”

You wanted to believe it, but Stephen still looked broken-hearted. Maybe some other day. You just needed time. “Okay, whatever you say, Christine, congratulations again.” You say. She nods, before going over to the other guests that were calling out to her.

You took a deep breath in. Empty champagne glass in your hand.

Turning around and walking to the bar, you spot Stephen drinking a few glasses of Martini, already finishing one before grabbing another.

“Slow down there, or else I’m going to have to drive you home.” You said, standing beside him as he has his elbow propped onto the bar. “Be my guest.” He replies. You laugh, but then you place your glass down, looking at him take another sip.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He replied.

You shrugged, there was the Strange you knew.

“I don’t know, you don’t look fine to me.”

Stephen shakes his head, he was about to grab another drink when he placed it down. “I’m sorry, there’s just a lot going on my mind.”

“Yeah, I understand, it’s getting a little overwhelming, really.” You say.

Stephen looks at you, before standing upright and grabbing another glass, handing it to you and grabbing another for himself. “Then let’s forget about it for a while.”

You grabbed the drink, swirling it for a moment before looking at him.

The both of you found yourselves talking again, telling all sorts of stories. And by now the both of you were laughing again.

“And he stood there for the whole hour trying to make a portal but then he just kept on making sparks.”

You laugh. “You gotta admit, he’s dedicated.”

Stephen nods. “He reminds me of myself back then.”

“You’ve come a long way Stephen.” You say, smiling genuinely.

“Suppose I have, enough about that. Now, tell me about yourself.” Stephen asked you.

As Christine’s eyes watched the pair of you as you talked and talked, he saw the familiar glint in Stephen’s eye, the look that he used to give when he was admiring something, or rather when he felt happy. A look that he used to give her. And as for you, she could tell Stephen had made his way to your heart.

Christine smiled. She was happy for him, she was happy for you. She could tell this was heading for somewhere better, and with her fingers crossed, she hoped it was true.

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