Star 🎀🌸🩰

if your comfy with it could you please write a fic with julie x fem reader at eden hall whos connies roomate and thats how they met. and like connie goes out for a night so they have the room to themselves and get really close and snuggly but with a little bit of steamy spice at the end. not full on smut but just some cute intamacy

thanksssss

Connie had warned you that she wouldn’t be back until late. Some mixer across campus, something about “you’re welcome to come, but it’s going to be boring.” You’d passed, preferring a quiet night in your dorm.

That’s when Julie Gaffney showed up.

She’d already been hanging around more since the Ducks had settled into Eden Hall life, but tonight, without Connie there as a buffer, it felt… different. She knocked lightly on the open door before slipping in, wearing sweatpants and one of those oversized Eden Hall hoodies that looked way too comfortable.

“Connie said I could hang out with you since she ditched us for the night,” Julie grinned, dropping onto Connie’s bed before flopping back dramatically. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you said, sitting cross-legged on your own bed. “Honestly, it’s nice to have some company.”

Julie pulled her hood up, tugging the strings tight until only her nose peeked out, and you couldn’t help but laugh. That broke the ice.

Before long, the two of you were sprawled across your bed instead of sitting separately. A movie played low on your tv, but you were more focused on the way Julie’s laugh lit up the room, the way she teased you about your snack choices, the way she leaned just a little closer each time your shoulders brushed.

At one point, she stole your blanket without shame.

“Hey!” you protested, tugging it back.

“Sharing is caring,” Julie replied, smug.

It ended with you both tangled up under the same blanket, her legs brushing against yours, her head leaning against your shoulder. You could feel the warmth of her breath when she shifted, close enough to make your heart stutter.

“You know,” Julie said softly, her voice cutting through the quiet movie noise. “I didn’t just come here because Connie said I could. I… wanted to hang out with you.”

You turned to look at her, and suddenly she was so close that you could see the faint flush across her cheeks. Her eyes flicked to your lips before darting away, and you felt the tension twist between you—warm, nervous, electric.

Your hand found hers beneath the blanket, fingers brushing tentatively before interlacing. Julie’s breath caught, but she didn’t pull away.

“Is this okay?” you whispered.

She nodded quickly, then leaned in just enough for her nose to bump yours. The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, like testing the waters. But when you tilted closer, she deepened it, her hand sliding up to cup your jaw. It wasn’t frantic, but there was a hunger beneath it, a warmth that left your skin tingling.

When you finally broke apart, Julie’s forehead rested against yours, both of you grinning like idiots.

“Well,” she murmured, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Guess Connie’s going to regret missing movie night.”

Warmups and heartbeats - Guy Germaine

A/n: bro this pulled me out of a writing slump. Like, I’ve been so like busy I had like no motivation for anything

The ice in Eden Hall’s rink was freshly smoothed, the smell of cold and faint Zamboni exhaust hanging in the air. Most of the team had already finished practice, but Guy was still out there, skating lazy circles while you sat bundled in a blanket on the bench.

You weren’t sure if he was showing off or just procrastinating, but his easy smile and the way his hair curled out from under his helmet made you suspect it was a little of both.

“Practice ended fifteen minutes ago, Germaine,” you called, your voice echoing in the near-empty rink.

He slowed to a stop in front of you, leaning on his stick. “What, you in a rush?” His grin was warm enough to make you forget you were freezing.

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to keep me here, you could at least share your jacket,” you teased.

In one smooth motion, Guy skated to the bench, lifted the latch, and stepped off the ice. Without a word, he shrugged out of his team jacket and draped it over your shoulders, his hands lingering just a second too long.

“Better?” he asked, his voice a little softer now.

You nodded, feeling the leftover warmth of him in the fabric. “Much.”

He sat down beside you, close enough that your knees brushed. “Good. Now I have an excuse to stay here with you instead of heading to the locker room.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “That’s your excuse?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning in just a little, eyes locked on yours. “Well… that, and I like watching you watch me skate.”

Your face heated, and you swore it had nothing to do with the rink’s temperature. Before you could come up with a reply, he reached over and gently adjusted the blanket around you, his fingers brushing your cheek.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you warmed up for real. Hot chocolate at the student lounge?”

A/n: sorry this took awhile, I’m currently switching rooms in my house and it’s taken a lot of energy lol

Damian Wayne was not one to be easily distracted. He had trained under the League of Assassins, honed his focus under Batman’s strict guidance, and faced countless enemies without so much as a flinch.

And yet…

All it took was one kiss—one brief, featherlight kiss on the cheek—to throw his entire world into chaos.

It had been three days. Three agonizing, infuriating days since you had kissed him and gone about your business like nothing had happened. Meanwhile, he had replayed the moment in his mind more times than he cared to admit. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still feel the ghost of your lips against his skin.

And the worst part? You were acting like everything was normal. Like it was just some casual, friendly gesture. Like you hadn’t sent his pulse into overdrive and shattered the carefully constructed walls he had built around his emotions.

It was unacceptable. Unfair. Maddening.

So, naturally, Damian did what he did best—pretended he was completely fine.

He was not fine.

You found him in the Batcave that evening, sharpening a batarang with a level of intensity that suggested he was either incredibly focused or trying very hard to ignore something.

“Hey, Damian,” you greeted, hopping up onto the nearby workbench. “Busy?”

“Tt. Not particularly.” He didn’t look up, keeping his hands occupied.

You swung your legs idly, watching him. “You’ve been weird lately.”

His grip on the batarang tightened, but his face remained impassive. “I’m always ‘weird.’”

“Yeah, but this is a different kind of weird.” You tilted your head, studying him. “You’ve been distracted. Avoiding me.”

Damian internally cursed. He should have known you’d pick up on it.

“I have not been avoiding you,” he said evenly, finally looking up. “I’ve been—”

“You so have,” you interrupted, smirking. “It’s almost like… I don’t know… you’re flustered about something.”

Flustered. Flustered?! The word itself was an insult. Damian Wayne did not get flustered.

“I do not get flustered,” he said firmly, narrowing his eyes.

Your smirk grew. “Says the guy who can barely look me in the eye right now.”

Damn it.

You hopped off the workbench, stepping closer. Damian didn’t move, but he felt his heartbeat pick up slightly. He refused to let it show.

“Damian,” you said, your voice softer now, teasing but curious. “Does this have anything to do with the fact that I kissed you the other day?”

His muscles tensed. He had walked straight into that one.

For a brief moment, silence stretched between you. His mind raced, trying to calculate the best way to respond without giving too much away.

“…Tt. Hardly,” he scoffed, turning back to his batarang. “It was an insignificant gesture.”

Your lips twitched. “Oh? Insignificant, huh?”

“Yes.”

“So if I did it again right now, you wouldn’t care?”

Damian’s hand twitched. His entire body betrayed him for half a second before he forced himself to stay still.

“You wouldn’t,” he said, though it sounded more like a challenge than a statement.

You raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t I?”

And before he could react, you leaned in and—this time—kissed the other cheek. Slow enough for him to process it, but quick enough that he couldn’t stop you.

His breath hitched. Just barely.

You pulled back, watching him with amused eyes. “Still insignificant?”

Damian clenched his jaw, staring at you with an unreadable expression. On the outside, he looked as composed as ever. Inside?

Absolute. Utter. Chaos.

You grinned. “Thought so.”

With that, you turned and walked off, leaving him standing there—stiff, stunned, and utterly doomed.

@catholicladybaby

A/n: sorry it took awhile lol!

A/n: sorry for disappearing for 2 months or so, I had an upper respiratory tract infection, which still might have. But I’m gonna try and post more!

The blinds barely held back the midday sun, casting a faint golden glow across the room. The sheets were rumpled and soft, still carrying the lingering warmth from a lazy morning. You laid sprawled across the bed, fingers absentmindedly toying with a small shell you’d picked up on the beach the day before. Its ridges and curves caught your attention in that way small treasures always did.

“You see this one?” you began, tilting the shell towards Rafe, who was lying beside you with his arms folded behind his head. His blue eyes flicked over to it briefly, his face softened by the rare tranquility that only you seemed to pull from him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, his voice gravelly from disuse. “What’s so special about it?”

“It’s a moon snail shell,” you explained, turning it in the light. “See the spiral? It’s perfect. Like… how does nature even do that?”

Rafe chuckled under his breath, the sound low and almost disbelieving. “I swear, you’re the only person I know who could get that excited about a seashell.”

You ignored him, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, crossing your legs as you began to dig through a small box on the bedside table—your latest collection of odds and ends. “I’m serious, Rafe. There’s beauty in these things. You just don’t pay attention.”

“Maybe,” he muttered, rolling onto his side to face you. One arm rested against the pillow, his head propped up lazily. “Or maybe I just like watching you pay attention.”

His words made you pause for half a second, heat creeping up the back of your neck. But instead of looking at him, you grabbed another shell and held it up. “This one’s my favorite. It’s a scallop shell. It has these little ridges, almost like rays from the sun. Doesn’t it remind you of a sunrise?”

Rafe didn’t answer right away. You glanced over at him, and your heart did that stupid little flip it always did when you caught him looking at you like that. Soft. Uncharacteristically gentle. Like you were something he couldn’t quite believe was real.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low. “I guess it does.”

“You’re just agreeing with me to shut me up.”

“Nah,” he said, smirking slightly as he reached out to brush his knuckles against your arm. “I like hearing you talk about it. You’ve got this… glow when you’re rambling.”

Your cheeks burned, and you shoved him lightly, laughing. “You’re so full of it.”

He caught your wrist before you could pull away, his fingers wrapping around it just enough to hold you there. “Nah, I’m serious,” he said again, his voice softer now. His thumb ran absently over your skin, a contrast to the rough reputation he carried everywhere else in Kildare. “People think I don’t care about anything. But I care about this. About you.”

The sudden sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and you looked down at where his hand held yours. For a guy with a reputation for being violent, for losing his temper and pushing people away, he always treated you with a kind of tenderness that left you speechless.

“You’re gonna make me cry,” you joked, your voice wobbly as you tried to lighten the mood.

Rafe grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “Nah, can’t have that. I’d have to start fighting seashells or something.”

You laughed, and the sound filled the room, wrapping around the both of you like a warm blanket. He let go of your wrist but stayed close, his fingers tangling with yours.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The world outside could wait. For now, it was just the two of you—shells, sunlight, and a side of Rafe Cameron no one else got to see.

Rating: fluff

A/N: I’ve been like super busy, plus I got a boyfriend. I have been working on more stuff, this has been sitting in my drafts for like ages.

Alex Summers, also known as Havok, had always felt like a walking storm. His power to unleash devastating plasma beams, fueled by cosmic energy, made him a force of destruction. He tried to control it, but every blast seemed to unravel more of him than he could contain. He’d seen enough damage in his life to know that sometimes it was best to stay distant from others.

That all changed the day he met you.

It was a crisp fall afternoon when Alex found himself at a remote training facility, hidden deep within the woods. Charles Xavier had suggested he come here to work on his control, to find peace with the chaos that roiled inside him. But peace was something Alex wasn’t sure he would ever find. That is, until you showed up.

You were sitting on a large, flat rock by a stream, hands gliding through the air. Small, glowing orbs floated from your fingertips, transforming into intricate shapes—a flower, a bird, a tiny glowing tree. Your ability to create from nothingness felt like magic in comparison to his destructive energy.

Alex watched, mesmerized. The contrast between you and him was startling. His very presence had often turned beauty into ruin, yet here you were, making the world around you bloom with life. He felt an odd pull, a need to be near you, to understand how you could be so calm, so at ease with your powers.

He approached cautiously, unsure of how to start the conversation. You noticed him before he spoke, your eyes meeting his with a gentle curiosity.

"You’re Alex, right?" you asked, your voice soft but clear. "Havok?"

"Yeah," he replied, feeling a knot of tension in his chest. "And you are?"

"(Y/N)," you introduced yourself, smiling slightly. "I’ve heard about you. Your powers… they're intense."

Alex braced himself for the usual wariness people felt around him. But instead, you continued, "It must be hard, balancing all that energy."

He let out a breath, surprised at your understanding. "You could say that. Destruction isn’t exactly a talent that makes people feel comfortable."

You nodded thoughtfully, your fingers still weaving through the air, creating tiny light sculptures. "I get it. But I think destruction and creation are two sides of the same coin."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Without destruction, nothing new can come. It’s like clearing a forest to make room for something new to grow," you explained, your hands falling to your sides as the glowing objects drifted into the breeze.

"Except my destruction isn’t always controlled," he muttered, thinking about the damage he’d caused in the past.

"Maybe you just need the right balance," you said gently. "The right company."

At first, you kept your distance. Despite the strange connection you felt, you couldn't deny that Alex was, by nature, destructive. His powers could obliterate things in an instant, while yours gave life and form. It was unnerving to think about the clash of energies.

But over time, as you continued to train together, you realized something. Around you, Alex’s chaotic energy seemed to settle. His blasts became more focused, more precise. It was as though your presence grounded him, kept him from tipping over the edge into uncontrollable destruction.

And Alex noticed it too. He found himself drawn to your calm, your sense of purpose. You weren’t afraid of his power like others had been, and that gave him the confidence to trust himself more. The more time he spent with you, the less reckless his energy became.

One evening, after a long day of training, you sat beside him by the stream where you had first met. The sky above was filled with stars, casting a soft glow on the water.

"Thank you," Alex said quietly, breaking the silence.

"For what?" you asked, glancing over at him.

"For helping me realize that maybe I’m not just a walking disaster," he admitted. "That with the right balance, like you said, maybe I don’t have to be so destructive."

You smiled, reaching out to create a small, glowing flower in the palm of your hand. You offered it to him, the light reflecting in his eyes.

"We all have our roles to play," you said. "Yours might be destruction, but it doesn’t have to define you. Not when you can choose who to surround yourself with."

Alex took the glowing flower, watching as it pulsed gently in his hand. For the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

Maybe destruction and creation weren’t opposites after all. Maybe, together, they could create something new—something balanced.

And as Alex looked at you, he knew he wanted to keep finding that balance, with you by his side.

A/N: I have more stuff in the works, also I found out that a bunch of Batman movies on Tubi

Moodboards:

Thanks in advance <3

So I totally forgot to answer this with the story so I’m sorry! The story is on my page but I will also put a link

Warnings: none!

Rating: fluff

The crisp Minnesota air greeted you as you stepped off the plane, the familiar chill seeping through your jacket. You hadn't been back in a few years—not since the last time you visited your uncle, Gordon Bombay, and spent a whirlwind of a summer reconnecting with your figure skating roots. That summer, you’d found yourself skating in the same rink as the Ducks, and more specifically, spending a lot of time with Guy Germaine. You smiled at the memory. You were both so young, so caught up in the thrill of something new.

Now, as you made your way through the terminal, the past few years felt like a blur. You’d been on the rise in the figure skating world, traveling, competing, and living a life that, on the surface, seemed perfect. But behind the flawless spins and jumps, there was a heart that had just been through a breakup. The last thing you needed was to fall for someone else—but you couldn’t help but think of Guy.

You were supposed to meet him later today. Gordon had arranged for Guy to pick you up and bring you to the rink for a bit of skating before you caught up with your uncle. The thought of seeing him again made your heart race. How much had he changed? How much had you changed?

As you walked into the arrivals hall, you saw him instantly. Guy Germaine was standing there, hands in the pockets of his jacket, his blonde hair a little longer, his shoulders broader. He was no longer the boy you remembered—he was a man. And when he spotted you, his face lit up with a smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, stranger,” he said, pulling you into a warm hug. His embrace felt safe, like you were exactly where you needed to be.

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s been a while.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “Yeah, it has. Too long, if you ask me.”

You didn’t trust yourself to say anything more, so you just smiled and nodded. As he took your bag and led you to his car, you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be with him. The conversation flowed easily as you drove through the snow-dusted streets of Minneapolis, catching up on everything and nothing at the same time.

When you arrived at the rink, it was like stepping back in time. The familiar smell of ice and the distant echo of skates cutting through it made you feel at home. You both laced up your skates and stepped onto the ice, gliding effortlessly across the surface.

At first, it was just like old times—laughing, teasing, and showing off a bit. But as the minutes passed, there was something more in the air. A quiet tension that neither of you acknowledged but both of you felt. You stopped at the center of the rink, breathless from both skating and the electricity between you.

“Are you okay?” Guy asked suddenly, his tone gentle, his eyes full of concern.

You hesitated, not wanting to burden him with the weight of your heartbreak. “I’m getting there,” you admitted finally.

He nodded, as if he understood more than you were saying. “I heard about what happened. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling a lump form in your throat. “But I’m not here to talk about that.”

He stepped closer, his voice low and full of promise. “Then let me help you forget. Let me spoil you a little.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I don’t need to be spoiled, Guy.”

“Maybe not,” he said, smiling in that way that always made you weak. “But you deserve it.”

And so, he did just that. The days that followed were a blur of laughter, late-night drives, and quiet moments where you almost forgot about the pain. He took you to all his favorite spots in the city, places you’d never been, and places you’d visited together as teenagers. He treated you to dinners, insisted on paying for everything, and made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered.

But it wasn’t just the grand gestures that made your heart swell. It was the way he listened, the way he made you feel seen and understood. He never pushed, never tried to force anything. He was just there, steady and constant, like the ice beneath your feet.

One evening, as you sat on a bench overlooking a frozen lake, bundled up in coats and scarves, you realized something. You weren’t just getting over your ex—you were falling for Guy all over again.

He turned to you, his breath visible in the cold air. “You know, I’ve thought about you a lot since you left.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching for your hand. “And I promised myself that if I ever got another chance, I wouldn’t let you go.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the same boy you’d once flirted with, but also so much more. He was right—this was another chance. And maybe this time, you wouldn’t let go either.

As he leaned in, the world around you faded away. It was just the two of you, in this moment, finally getting the chance you both deserved.

And when his lips met yours, it was like coming home.