#aka he did this in front of the person and his mother who was the grandfather's daughter

[isekyaaa]

I really want more non-villain male characters that rank really high in emotional intelligence and use it to their advantage. I want men that know the ins and outs of how people work and tailor themselves and how they act to get the desired reactions and results out of them. I want men that can turn angels out of demons and make even the bitchiest of Karens worship the ground they walk on. But I don't want them to do these things to achieve lofty goals. I just want them to act this way because that's just how they naturally are.

[nosyrobin]

I NEED WONDER BOY READER AND HOW THEY MET DAMIAN AND JON!!

“Is that a girl?” “IM NOT A GIRL?!”

Summary: meeting the new addition to the duo, there’s already wild first impressions

Genre: fluff

Pair: Superson trio. (Supersons x Wonderboy!reader)

Damian and Jon were in the watchtower, practically there because their fathers had a meeting. But slowly the meeting felt longer, Damian and Jon sat across from each other. Jon was asleep while Damian was awake. He dared not to close his eyes and fall asleep to an “important” meeting with his father. After the adults were done talking, Diana looked over at the supersons. She smiled and points to the two boys, “Yknow, I have a child of my own. Not very social, but would make a good addition to these two.” Immediately Damian snapped his head at the Amazon woman.

Clark smiles warmly, picking up his son who is still knocked out. “Oh yeah! Y/N. I think so too.” Damian raised a brow. He didn’t want to seem curious about this “Y/N” kid he was hearing about. But learning that the child is half Amazon or fully Amazon. He smirked, another kid to join “his” team. Amazing, maybe he can show his father that he can be a true leader. As the others leave the watch tower. Bruce drives back to the bat cave as Damian looks ahead. “Father.” Bruce hummed for his son to continue. “…when will I meet wonder woman’s heir.” Bruce smirked. “Eager are we?” Damian scoffed, now looking out the window. “Not like that father. Its just..I wanna see how she is. I wanna see if she’s just like her mother.”

Bruce held his tongue. He knew whatever happens next would be a surprise for his son. “Yes, I can see your curiosity about Y/N’s personality. But I assure you that you would be shock at how she acts.”

And oh boy would the two supersons would be shocked. Now it’s a new day, Jon and Damian were in their costumes. Batman, aka Damian’s father, aka Bruce Wayne himself asked the boys to meet him in the batcave. They did as they walked inside to see the present trinity of heroes. Batman had his stoic face and Superman was smiling. Wonder Woman was standing in-front of someone who clearly had the same material outfit as her. But when the Amazon lady moved, that’s when the two boys caught the beautiful sight of the child of the Amazon. They looked exactly like Diana. But wore pants other than a skirt. And looked more masculine, but the face is what threw the super off. Along with the boy wonder. Jon pointed a finger at the kid who seemed a little older than them. 11 at most. “Is that a girl?”

……..

“IM NOT A GIRL?!” The Amazon yelled shocked. The adults let out chuckles, even the Batman let a small one out before regaining his face. Jon felt heat hit his face of embarrassment, Damian showed shock before he switched his expression. “Wow superboy. I thought you would use your x ray vision.” Jon, still flustered looked at his best friend. “X ray vision is not supposed to be used like that Robin!” The older Amazon male snickered, which brought the boy’s attention to the male. “Jeez, what a first impression.” Wonderboy says. He walks up, holding his hand out. “Sup, I’m wonderboy. Son of Wonder Woman. But honestly, I already know your identities. Doesn’t take a genius to know.” The boy says. Jon didn’t care about his identity being known as of the minute. His manners were taking over as he shook the Boy’s hand.

“I’m superboy, Jonathan Kent. But you can call me Jon when we aren’t superheroes!” He giddily says. The boy only nods, “Okay Jon. I’m Y/N Prince. But you probably heard my name already.” Y/N winked at the super, Jon felt heat hit his face again. His ears tinted red as he quickly pulls his hand back. Damian moved forward, his arms crossed looking at the boy in-front of him. “So, you know who I am?” His face hardens. Y/N snorted with a smirk, a smirk that lifted one side of his lips to his ear. “Course I do, Damian Wayne.” Y/N ruffled the hair of the tanned boy. Damian huffs and immediately pushes the male’s hands off his head. His ears are a little red but it soon calms down. “Funny how I’m the oldest of this trio. Was hoping you guys would be at least my exact age. But that’s okay.” The Amazon boy shrugged and started to float.

Jon’s eyes light up, immediately started to float off the ground. “You can fly?! I mean of course you can fly, you’re wonder woman’s son! Omg we can fly around and catch bad guys! Have flying races! There’s so much things!” Jon was so excited to have an another flying person like him. And his age range as well! Damian clicked his tongue in distaste. Damian wasn’t jealous that his best friend was practically flying around the bat with the new addition. The superson trio was so caught up knowing about each other that they didn’t know their parents had left.

As Damian stare at the flying boys, Y/N smiles down at the boy wonder. The Amazon male swooped down and lifted the bird in his arms. “Aww birdy don’t be sad you can’t fly.” Y/N coos playfully, Damian scoffs. He can feel his facade melt, Jon chuckles as the two flying boys flew around the bat cave. Damian was fully relaxed in the boy’s arms, leaning his head against the amazon’s chest.

“Boy. It’s time to go home.” The flying boys stopped their flying. Damian immediately realized his softened demeanor and pushed himself off the Amazon male. Landing on his feet like a cat, Bruce raised a brow under his cowl at the quick switch up. Damian could only just stand there as Clark and Diana came in the batcave. It seems their little meet up to hang out has ended. Jon frowns, “Awe man…” Jon looks at Y/N. “Think we can hangout tomorrow? I have these comic books I want to show you!” Y/N nods. “Sure man!” Clark and Diana fist bumped each other, smiling as Jon hugged the Amazon boy goodbye.

After the Amazons are gone, leaving just the supers and bats. Jon pulls his dad’s cape. “Could he come to our house? PLEASEE” Clark chuckled and patted his son. “Sure sport. Sure.” Damian had his arms crossed. Looking down, Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want Y/N to come over as well?” Damian stayed quiet before a curt nod was received. Bruce smiled. “Alright then, I’ll set up your play date after Jon’s.” The Kents were now gone, leaving the Waynes to their home.

Neither the less of tonight, Damian was interested in the Amazon male. His charming smile, his compassionate nature , his calming attitude that he oddly find..attractive. Jon felt the same way, his eyes were blown out wide. You would’ve seen a tail behind him wagging when he sees that the male was strong just like him. But of course Y/N is strong like him! Y/N’s an Amazon, he’s a kryptonian. Plus he loves his heart beat makes him calm. Hopefully he can get a playdate with him soon!

This trio would be legendary for the future of heroes.

[pedroscurls]

playing with fire (one-shot)

summary: wyatt (aka, jamie) always had one thing on his mind: money. so after he and jonathan part ways, he meets you - a woman that suddenly makes him realize that there's more to life than treachery, manipulation, and violence. but when he has another chance at getting more money than he's ever had before, he goes back to his old ways... and you're more than willing to help him in any way possible. pairing: wyatt bose (jamie getz) x fem!reader content warnings: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MDNI, light dom/sub dynamic, possessiveness, violence - mentions of murder, blood, wyatt is very rough, light power imbalance in the beginning, manhandling, light choking, brief orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, multiple creampies (oops), one scene of a breeding kink, multiple scenes of oral (m and f receiving), fingering, spanking, marking, no use of y/n. word count: 13.9k (oops - i got distracted) a/n: ok y'all, this is just complete filth. hugh plays such a good bad guy (i really want him to play more roles like this bc damn) and that one fucking line where he says "oh, what i'm gonna do to you" DID things to me jfc. anyway, please heed the warnings and if you do decide to read this, hope you enjoy! had to end it with a happy ending obviously 🙂‍↕️

WELCOME TO THE CLUB — You didn’t know how you ended up here. You had just broken up with your boyfriend of two years after realizing that you were just settling for a relationship that you were no longer happy in. At this age, you should have already been married, should have already become a mother – it was something that your own family liked to remind you of what you’ve been missing. 

But that never did appeal to you. You didn’t want to become a mother, didn’t want to be married. Your family had originally hoped you would find someone to settle down with, someone to change your mind and they had thought your ex-boyfriend was that person, but… Things had become redundant. Boring. You spent most days daydreaming what it would be like to live a life you wanted. 

And the sex – well, you were always left disappointed because he just couldn’t get you to come. No matter how hard he tried. So, you resorted to your own vibrator in hopes to relieve the pressure and tension that you knew you couldn’t get with him. 

He wasn’t a bad man – in fact, he was perfect. He just wasn’t perfect for you. 

And now, you’re sitting at the edge of the bed in a hotel room that you paid for, waiting for this stranger to arrive. You had met a woman one night at the bar who had let you know of an exclusive club that she was in, a club that piqued your interest. You had all of the information written down and every day for the next month, you reviewed it every night. Never taking the initiative to finally be part of this club. 

Until tonight. 

You were tired of using your vibrator. Tired of trying to meet other men at bars, only to be disgusted by their behavior before they could even get to your front door. 

So, you reviewed the sticky note with all of the information the woman had told you about – the initiator pays for the hotel room, no names are exchanged, and no rough play. You weren’t sure what to expect when you finally called a number that she had given you, hearing his voice from the other end of the phone – it was deep, gruff. You spent the next ride to the hotel imagining what he would look like, pairing his voice with the image you conjured up of this man. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on the door. You suddenly feel self-conscious, nervous – this is your first time in this club and you didn’t want to disappoint. With a deep breath, you finally stand up and walk to the door. Gripping the handle, you slowly open it to see a man dressed in an all black suit (no tie) and one of the most charming smiles you’ve ever seen. He wastes no time in eyeing you up and down, taking note of the short black satin robe that is loosely wrapped around your otherwise naked frame. 

“Hi,” he smiles. “Mind if I come in?” 

You nod and open the door even further for him to cross the threshold. He steps in and winks in your direction, catching his gaze on your cleavage. Once he’s fully inside, you place the “do not disturb” placard on the outside handle and then shut the door. 

“This is my first time,” you blurt out, walking back to the bed and finding your spot on the corner of the mattress. “I know the rules. No names. No rough play. Other rules can be established between us and–”

He turns around and gazes down at you, hands in his pockets and that same charming smile lining his lips. “First time, huh?” 

“In this club, at least. Not the first time ever.” 

“Shame,” he eyes your legs when you cross one over the other, the robe lifting to reveal more of your skin. “Would’ve been nice to be your first ever.” 

You feel more confident with the way he’s staring at you. Slowly, you bring your hands to the knot at your robe and begin to undo it. “We could…” you bite your lower lip, the knot loosening completely as you lean back against your forearms to reveal your exposed front for him. “Pretend?” You finish. 

He lets out the most animalistic growl that you’ve ever heard come out of a man. In two strides, he’s standing between your legs, hands still in his pockets as he gazes at your breasts down your abdomen and to the apex of your thighs. 

“No fun in that,” he finally answers. 

“No?” You ask, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you let your eyes take in his frame. You can see the bulge beneath his black slacks, only fueling more of your confidence. “You don’t like to roleplay?” 

“I’d much rather have the real thing.” 

“You didn’t answer my question though,” you reply. “Do you not like to roleplay?” 

His gaze darkens as he finally pulls one of his hands out of his pockets and you see just how large it is when he lightly splays it across your abdomen, sliding it further upwards between your breasts. His touch is soft, but you can feel the calluses, can feel the roughness. 

“I’ll tell you what I do like,” he whispers huskily. 

“Yeah? What’s that?” You whimper, feeling his thumb brush against your nipple before he brings his hand further up to splay against the side of your neck. Slowly, he moves his hand to the back of your head and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging it with just the right amount of pressure for you to tilt your head back, exposing your neck and throat for him. 

“I like to be in control,” he says quietly, leaning down until his lips are near your ear. 

“Thought one of the rules was no rough play…” you point out, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his soft lips begin to nip at your earlobe. 

“We can make our own rules, baby.” 

“My first time in this club and you’re already getting me to break the rules,” you smile, moving one hand to grab onto the lapel of his blazer. 

Instead, he grabs both of your hands and pins them above your head. His grip around your wrists tighten as he pushes them into the mattress, staring into your eyes. His nose brushes against yours as the hand in your hair instead moves to cover your breast. He kneads the flesh into the pit of his palm, feeling you arch your back into his touch. 

“Something tells me you like breaking the rules,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning against your lips. “Am I right?” 

“Never had someone to break the rules with,” you whimper, feeling him pinch your nipple between his thumb and index finger. 

He smirks at that, feeling suddenly territorial over you. He pulls back enough to gaze down at you, eyes scanning every inch of your face as he commits it to memory. The way your eyes stare at him with a kind expression, giving him your undivided attention. He isn’t used to this, isn’t used to being with someone like you. You’re staring at him like he’s the only person that matters in this world and he doesn’t realize how much he craves that, how much he’s going to crave you. 

“You want someone to break the rules with?” he asks, moving his hand from your breast down your abdomen and between your legs. 

“As long as it’s with you,” you answer almost immediately. 

Wyatt (Jamie) growls at that and breaks his own rule by pressing his lips firmly against your own. Since he joined this club, he never kissed the person he was with. It seemed almost too personal, too intimate to be shared amongst strangers. In the last fifteen minutes of meeting you, he’s already yearning for more, already planning for ways to have you his. Only his. 

Your hands move to his hair, tangling your fingers into his locks as your lips move slowly against his. He groans against you, your lips so soft and inviting. 

He has to pull away, has to gather his thoughts because he’s losing control and he never loses control. Once he stands upright, he pushes off his jacket and reaches down for his belt, undoing it as he watches you scramble up further onto the bed, sliding the robe off your entire frame. He can feel his cock straining in his pants and when he finally undoes the belt, zipper, and button of his pants, he pushes it down his legs with his boxers and kicks it off to the side. 

He smirks to himself, seeing your eyes gaze down at his cock that springs at attention. He holds onto his base, veins throbbing and tip leaking with precome. 

“You’d do anything I’d ask, wouldn’t you?” Wyatt (Jamie) asks, grabbing your ankle and tugging you back to the edge of the mattress. “You’d be a good girl, listen to what I tell you to do–”

“Yes,” you say almost breathlessly. You don’t know if this is how it’s like with every person you’ll meet in this club, but he’s going to leave a really good impression on you. He’s awakening something inside of you that you’ve suppressed for so long, unsure if you’ll ever get the chance to live out the sex life you’ve always yearned for, but now he’s here – whoever he is – giving you the chance to have a much more exciting sex life. 

“Don’t interrupt me,” he growls, hand moving to your jaw. His gaze darkens, tries to search for any hesitation in your eyes, but instead, he sees a sense of willingness, a glimmer of obedience. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” 

Sir. He grins at that. 

“Such a fast learner,” he whispers, using his hand to guide his tip to your slickened heat. “Now, be a good girl and ask me nicely.” 

You bite your lower lip, staring into his eyes as you feel his warm tip press against your opening. You clench around nothing, whimpering in protest as you lift your hips impatiently off the bed. His grip around your jaw tightens. 

“Be a good girl and ask nicely,” he repeats, voice deeper, more demanding. 

“Please,” you whine out. 

“Please what?” he growls. 

“Goddammit, please fuck me!” you answer impatiently, hands reaching down to take matters into your own hands. 

He lets out a dark laugh and shakes his head, releasing his hold on your jaw to grab your hands once more, pinning them roughly to the mattress. His grip around your wrists tighten as he stares into your eyes, that same charming smile on his lips. “Am I going to have to spend the entire fucking night teaching you manners?” 

“N–No,” you whimper. “Please, I’m sorry. I just– Fuck, I need you.”

“Then… Ask. Fucking. Nicely.” he repeats. 

“Please, sir,” you moan. “Please, can you–” you gasp quietly, feeling the head of his cock push into your tight heat. When you can’t seem to find your words, he pulls out of you and smirks. 

“Continue, baby.” 

“Please,” you mumble. “C–Can you fuck me, please?” 

“Please what?”

“Sir.” 

Wyatt (Jamie) grins in accomplishment and slams into you without warning, feeling your warm heat encompass his throbbing cock. You’re so tight, so wet that sliding into you is so effortless. Your back arches as you feel every inch of his length press against your walls, a painful stretch to accommodate his size. 

And for the rest of the night, you both remain entangled in each other’s limbs, only leaving the bed to have him bend you over the dresser or to ride him in the small loveseat in the corner. 

When morning rolls around, you’re already dressed in your normal clothes and so is he. It was a night to remember – this club had initially made you anxious, but now, you’re looking forward to the next time you’ll get to meet another stranger. 

Wyatt (Jamie), on the other hand, makes sure to add your number to his phone. His mind drifts to the possibility of you being with other men – even women – in this exclusive club and he feels a sudden sense of jealousy wash over him. He reaches down and grips your hip, pulling you to him and leaning down to capture your lips with his own. He hopes that he’s made a lasting impression that no other man would ever compare to him.

Slowly, you’re the one that pulls away – a small smile lining your beautiful face and eyes gazing at him once more with such kindness. 

“I hope I see you around,” you finally say, biting your lower lip. 

“I’m sure you will,” he says with confidence. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“We don’t know each other’s names,” you let out a quiet laugh. “And I’m sure you have other women that call you–”

“You jealous?” he teases with a grin.

“And if I said I was?” 

He clears his throat quietly. “Then I’d say tough shit,” he answers. “Deal with it.” 

Your face falls momentarily, but you recover quickly and lean in to peck his lips lightly. “Well, good thing I’m not jealous then. I’m eager to meet other men after last night.”

He tightens his jaw and brings a hand up to grab another fistful of your hair. You whimper quietly, hands moving to grip his shoulders. “When you fuck those other men,” he whispers, moving his lips to your ear. “You better be thinking about me.”

Your eyes flutter shut. “Not unless there’s another man who does it better than you.” 

He growls at that, turning you around and bending you over the dresser. He wastes no time in lifting the ends of your dress over your hips as he kicks your legs apart. Wyatt (Jamie) undoes his zipper and reaches into his slacks to pull out his hardening cock – giving it one, two, three strokes before he pushes into you from behind. 

Your hands reach out to grab onto the edges of the dresser, the grip around it so tight that your knuckles turn white. You hadn’t expected that kind of reaction of him and certainly didn’t expect him to fuck you yet again – especially since you both should already have left the hotel, last night’s events the only thing to remember each other by. 

Instead, he’s fucking relentlessly into you from behind, his balls slapping against you. This time, he doesn’t care about making you come first. He wants you – no, needs you to understand that there will never be anyone like him. That you are meant for him, made for him. Only him. 

He reaches down and grabs your hands, pinning them against your lower back as he slams into you. You squirm back against him, the edge of the dresser digging into your hips that you’re sure will leave another mark on your body. 

“You’re mine,” he groans aloud, tossing his head back as he uses your tight walls to bring him closer to his own release. “You’ll only ever be mine.”

“Y–Yes!” you moan loudly, your arousal dripping out of you. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix in with the wet squelching noises coming from between your legs – it echoes throughout the hotel room. 

“Fucking say it,” he demands, using his free hand to grab your hair and pull you upright. “Say it. Say I’m the only one. Say you’ll only ever think of me. Say you’re mine.”

“I–I’m yours!” you moan, his hand moving from your hair to pull down the front of your dress. He covers your breast with his large hand, squeezing it tightly as he thrusts into you repeatedly. “I–I’ll only ever think of you, fuck, please!” 

“Please what?” he groans into your ear. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

“Need to come!” 

Wyatt (Jamie) groans and empties his seed into you, your walls milking every last drop he has to give you. He pulls out and growls at the sight of his release trickling down the inside of your legs. You’re trembling, hands reaching out to rest on the dresser for stability once he releases his hold on you. He tucks himself back into his slacks and gives your ass a rough slap, smirking to himself. 

“Wait, but–” you whimper in protest, turning around slowly to face him with furrowed brows. “I didn’t–I didn’t come.”

“That’s too bad, isn’t it?” he smirks, grabbing his phone and keys from his pocket. 

“Are you really going to leave me like this?” 

He steps towards you and cups your cheek lightly, staring into your eyes. “You know my number, baby. Give it a call when you need me.” 

“Maybe I’ll call someone else,” you pout, walking away from him to go into the bathroom, cleaning yourself up from the mess he’s made between your legs. 

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head. He’s trying not to let this get to him, to let you get to him, but he can’t help it. He clears his throat and walks towards the door of the bathroom, watching you toss the toilet paper into the trash as you make yourself more presentable. 

“Maybe next time,” you begin to say, walking past him and towards your bag that’s resting on the mattress. “Maybe next time you’ll be the one that should be good for me.” 

He chuckles at that. He feels his feet glued to the floor as he watches you walk towards the door of the hotel room. “Don’t think that’s how this works, baby.” 

“Guess we’ll see next time then, hm?” you throw him a smile over your shoulder and open the door. Before walking out into the hallway, you turn to him and nod in his direction. “Thank you, by the way. For last night. For what happened just a few minutes ago.”

He nods, feeling an unfamiliar warmth blossom in his chest. “You made it easy, baby. Welcome to the club.” 

MEETING “WYATT BOSE” — The next time you see him, it’s unexpected. You’re working at the local library, reading a book at the front desk when he walks in. The same charming smile, a confidence and swagger that he walks with. His eyes scan the building, unsure of exactly what he’s looking for, but he walks further into the library and disappears into one of the aisles. It makes your heart race even faster as your mind drifts to the night you shared with him almost six months ago. You had been more regularly part of this club now – men now giving you a call instead of the other way around. 

He was right, though. Every other man you had been with him after him wasn’t the same. Sure, it was by far better sex than what you would have had with your ex-boyfriend, but it never was quite as amazing as your first time with him. Even as you came, you imagined him. 

You stand from the front desk, telling your coworker that you were going to put some books away. Truthfully, it was just an excuse to find him – the stranger that had left a lasting impression on you. 

You’re pushing a cart of books, going through each aisle. You’re distracted, putting two books away in its appropriate place and then glancing around to see if you can even get a glimpse of him. It feels like maybe you might have just imagined him, maybe your mind is playing tricks on you. 

With a heavy sigh, you round the corner and see him standing with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing yet another suit and that same fucking charming smile lining his beautiful lips. He’s gazing at you with an already darkened gaze. 

“Well, hello you.” 

“It’s really you,” you whisper, gripping the handle of the cart. 

“You never called again.” 

“Hm,” you answer. “I never received a call from you either and I saw you save my number that night, so I know you had–”

He steps towards you, removing one hand from his pocket to gently brush his thumb across your cheekbone. “You’ve been very popular, from what I’ve been hearing.” 

You clear your throat, feeling a quiet gasp escape your lips at his touch. “Maybe not that popular if you never called.” 

He chuckles, thumb moving lower to brush against your lower lip. “You miss me, baby?” 

“No,” you lie. 

He just smirks. “You’re such a fucking liar.” He grips your chin and pulls you to him. He removes his other hand from his pocket and lifts it up to gently brush against your nametag. Now he knows your name – another rule broken. 

“Pretty name,” he whispers. 

“You gonna tell me yours?” 

He grins, hand moving from your chin to splay against the side of your neck instead. His thumb brushes against your throat down towards your collarbone. “No names, remember?” 

“Well, that isn’t fair though, is it? You know mine.” 

“Didn’t ask you though. You’re wearing a nametag.” 

“What if I say please?”  

“Would you get on your knees and then say please?” He asks. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t think about you, didn’t think about that night you shared. 

“You’ll have to give me a call if you want me on my knees in front of you, baby.” 

He smiles to himself, tilts his head as he gazes into your eyes. Since Jonathan had let him go freely almost a year ago, Wyatt (Jamie) had tried to change his ways, tried to live a better life, but old habits die hard. It wasn’t until he met you that he started thinking about things other than money. 

How could one person leave such a lasting impression on him? 

“Just because we’re in public doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t take you in the bathroom–”

“If you want me that badly, then give me a call.”

His eyes narrow as he moves his grip around your throat. He pushes you against the dark corner and moves his free hand against the wall near your head, staring deeply into your eyes. “Thought we established that you don’t interrupt me.” 

“Maybe I need another reminder on how to be a good girl,” you whisper, feeling his grip around your throat tightening, leaving you almost gasping for air. 

He grins, loosening his grip around your throat. He likes that you can match him, can leave him speechless like this. “Wyatt.” 

“What?”

“Name’s Wyatt.” He lies, dropping his hand to your cheek and slowly he leans in, lips lightly brushing against yours. “I’m gonna kiss you now, unless you want me to give you a call for that,” he teases. 

You don’t answer. Instead, you reach up to grab him by the end of his tie and pull him into you. You press your lips firmly against his own as his hand slides to cup the back of your neck. He growls lowly against you, sliding his leg between your own. 

He’s missed the feeling of your lips, has missed the sounds you make. He feels you roll your hips against his strong thigh and he smirks, pulling away from the kiss to look down at you. Your pupils are blown out, lips slightly parted, and gaze filled with want, with desire, with need. 

“Wyatt,” you whisper. 

His smirk falters momentarily at the sound of his “name” leaving your lips and it’s in that moment he contemplates what it would sound like if you had said his real name. 

“I’ll give you a call,” he says. “Tonight. I’ll give you a call tonight.” 

“And if you don’t?” 

“Then you know my number,” he winks. 

You bite your lower lip and pull him back to you, the front of his body now pressing firmly against yours. He keeps his hand pressed against the wall above your head as he stares into your eyes. 

“What?” He asks quietly. 

You smile, shaking your head and leaning up to press your lips gently on his cheek. “Hope I get to see you tonight, Wyatt,” you whisper into his ear. “Until then, I suppose.” 

—

Wyatt had given you a call just a couple of hours after seeing you. When the phone rang and you heard his voice on the other end of the line, an excitement bubbled within you. 

Excitement. Anticipation. Yearning. 

And now, you’re entering the lobby of the hotel that Wyatt had told you he would be at tonight. You look around and bite your lower lip when you see him standing there with a small smile. He’s wearing a simple black t-shirt over a coat and black slacks. He nods in your direction and you walk over to him, biting your lower lip nervously. It feels like it’s your first time all over again. 

“Meeting me in the lobby?” You tease. “That’s new.”

“Well, consider me excited to see you.” He grabs your jacket and pulls you to him, feeling your hands reach out to rest on his chest. “Been thinking about you.” 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, moving your hands from his chest to wrap around his shoulders. 

“Yeah,” he moves his lips to your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. “Don’t think I forgot about you interrupting me earlier,” he growls lowly. “And how maybe I need to fucking remind you that I’m in control here.” 

You bite your lower lip and shut your eyes, tilting your head back to expose more of your neck for him. He takes the hint, moves his lips down the side of your neck with gentle kisses. “I don’t think you have control after not calling me for six months.” 

Wyatt (Jamie) growls. He tightens his jaw and bites down on the side of your neck, sucking on it roughly to leave a mark. He hears you let out a quiet whimper and he pulls away, looking down at you. “Keeping track of how long we haven’t seen each other, huh?” 

You narrow your eyes. “Just a guess. I have been pretty busy with other men and–”

Wyatt (Jamie) glances at the growing mark that’s darkening on the side of your neck. He feels suddenly territorial again. “Hm, we’re not gonna be talking about other men, are we?” 

“That depends. Will you be as good as the first time?” 

He chuckles, his gaze darkening even further. He’s finding that he enjoys this little game that you play with him. He leans in and whispers huskily into your ear. “We both know that you’ve been thinking of me while you were with those other men. Now, let’s get upstairs before I take you where you fucking stand and show these people who exactly you fucking belong to.” 

You nod, too obediently, and pull away from him slowly. You take his hand in his and lace your fingers with his own. The action takes him off guard, because for a split second, you see a surprised look flash across his features. He squeezes your hand and takes you to the elevators. 

Wyatt. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t tried to look him up earlier that day. You didn’t know his last name, but how common was the name Wyatt anyway? Apparently very fucking common because every Wyatt that exists showed up in your search except him. You knew you were playing a dangerous game – trying to get to know more about him, to find ways to spend more time with him outside of this. 

He pulls you out of your thoughts by releasing your hand and instead resting his own on your lower back. He steps into the elevator with you and presses the top floor, leaning back against the railing as he looks at you. Really looks at you. 

You’re biting your lower lip, eyes staring up at the numbers at the top of the elevator as it highlights for each floor you’re passing. Wyatt (Jamie) is starting to feel an unfamiliar warmth settle in the pit of his stomach. He has to wonder if this was how Jonathan and S felt for each other – the possibility of something more real. 

For once, he imagines sharing his life with someone else, with you. He imagines that it’d be filled with a lot of laughter, intense intimacy… but he also believes that he’d feel a sense of belonging with you – something that he’s been lacking for most of his life. 

But then he thinks about having to tell you the truth, having to be honest with you and with himself. His name isn’t Wyatt. Not only has he lied to you, but he’s also hiding the fact that he’s a dangerous man. Manipulative. Conniving. Murderous. Why would anyone like you ever be okay with someone like him? 

When the elevator doors finally open to the top floor, he watches you step out and waits for him patiently, eyes lighting up with a cute fucking smile on your face. There’s a part of him that wants to spend the entire night just getting to know you. He yearns to know more about you… aside from the information he’s already found when searching you up online. 

He was able to find you pretty quickly – an outdated Facebook account, but a more active Instagram account instead. Facebook tells him that you’re newly single, having gotten out of a relationship almost six months ago, which makes him wonder if you were still in a relationship or not when you two first met. He also knows you’re a librarian, but instagram tells him so much more about you. 

You like going to coffee shops, taking pictures of the different cups of coffee you order. He also finds that you like working out, being outdoors, and being active. You’re family oriented – he’s noticed from the handful of pictures you’ve posted with your family on birthdays and holidays. 

As Wyatt (Jamie) had searched you online earlier that day, he continued to imagine how he would fit into your life. And every time he tries to imagine it, he’s always left with a tug in the pit of his stomach that reminds him that as long as you don’t know the truth about him, he can never fit into your life. 

“You gonna show me where to go?” You ask, finally pulling him out of his thoughts. 

He lets out a quiet breath and flashes you a broad grin, slipping back into the same persona that you’re used to. “That eager, huh?” 

“I mean, you called me so we’re on my time.” 

“Oh, we are? You got somewhere else to be?” He walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind as he leads you to the door at the end of the hall. 

“And what if I do?” You ask, leaning back into him. “What if there’s another person I’m supposed to meet, hm?” 

He reaches over to swipe his hotel key card over the door and opens it for you. He pushes you inside roughly, shutting the door behind him as he turns you around and pushes you against the door. He hears you let out a gasp, eyes staring into his own and filled with desire. 

“You just like to push me, don’t you?” He asks, moving his hand to wrap around your throat. He sees the corner of your lips lift upwards. “You think this is a game, baby?” 

You nod slowly, feeling his grip tighten. “Mmm,” you mumble out. 

Wyatt (Jamie) darkens his gaze, stepping up to you as he moves his lips to your ear. “You fucking belong to me,” he whispers. “Do you understand?” 

You nod again, feeling the wetness begin to pool between your legs. “D–Does that mean you belong to me too?” You manage to whisper, his grip around your tight lessening to let you speak, to let you take a breath. 

He stares down at you, feels his resolve faltering for a moment at your question. Instead of answering, he drops his hand from your through and leans in to press his lips firmly against your own. It’s urgent, rushed, messy. 

Your arms wrap around him, bringing your hands to his hair and running your fingers through his locks. You part your lips and feel his tongue move past your lips  – your tongue now dancing with his, matching the intensity of this kiss. His hands move to reach around and grip your ass in his large hands. He feels his pants become increasingly tighter as he pushes against you. 

Pulling back, he stares down at you and narrows his eyes. You’re staring up at him with a dazed look on your face as he takes your hand and brings you further into the hotel room. He removes his jacket and sets it on the chair off to the side. 

“On your knees,” he says, turning back around to look at you. He reaches down and undoes his belt, a smirk lining his lips. 

You arch your brow and tilt your head, removing your own jacket as you stand before him in a pair of jeans and a white low v-neck. 

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he growls, eyes taking in your frame. How can you be so beautiful when dressed so casually? 

“Can I take my pants off first?” You ask quietly, hands reaching down to begin undoing the zipper and button of your jeans. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he nods in your direction and watches you begin to push your jeans down your legs, clad in a white v-neck and a pair of white panties. Then, you stand in front of him and slowly kneel down until you’re on your knees in front of him. 

“Look beautiful like this,” he points out, bringing a hand down to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb gently across your skin. He pushes down his pants and boxers, his cock now springing to attention in front of you. He kicks off his pants and boxers to the side, using his free hand to take hold of his base. He steps forward and glides the head of his length across your lips, his precome smearing across your lips. “Fuck,” he growls. 

Slowly, you part your lips for him, darting your tongue out to slide across his tip. He loses his resolve for a moment, sliding his tip past your lips and feeling you lap at his precome. He moves his hand from his base to grip around your hair, pushing his hips forward so that more of his cock disappears in your mouth. 

Your eyes gazes up at him, hands moving to rest on his thighs to prevent him from moving any further. His tip touches the back of your throat and you pull back to take a deep breath. He stares down at you and releases his hold on your hair to reach down and grab the ends of his shirt. Once he tosses it aside, he pushes back into your mouth and places both hands on your head. He hears you gagging and holds you firmly against him, feeling your saliva begin to coat his entire length. When he pulls back, he stares down at you and sees your lips swollen and parted for him, chest heaving as you try to take a deep breath. 

“Tell me,” he groans, pushing his hips forward for his cock to slide into your mouth. “Tell me that you’ve thought about me when you’ve been with all those other men. Tell me that you always think about me,” he groans, thrusting his hips forward. “Tell me that you’ll only ever be with me.”

He pulls back and watches you catch your breath, nodding up at him in response. 

“Say it,” he says. 

“It will only ever be you, Wyatt,” you answer honestly. “Even when I’m alone, all I think about is you. Who you are, what you do, how you can fit into my life,” you admit, slowly standing up and grabbing his shoulder to push him into the bed. He falls back as he looks up at you, his gaze softening momentarily. 

You pull your shirt over your head and undo your bra, completely exposed and bare for him as you straddle his waist and reach down to grab a hold of his cock. Slowly, you slide down his length and let out a quiet moan, his girth and size stretching you only in a way that he can. “I think I could fall in love with you,” you whisper almost inaudibly as you push yourself further onto him until you’re firmly sitting on his lap, his manhood sheathed within your tight, warm, and wet heat. 

Wyatt (Jamie) could have come right there. He stares up at you, taking note of your head tilted back with your arms pressing against his chest. You’re moving your hips slowly in a forward and backward motion, but all his eyes can focus on is you. 

I think I could fall in love with you. It lingers in his mind, mixes in with the sounds of your moans. He sits up, arms wrapping around your waist as he guides you to move forward in his lap. He leans in and presses his lips against the side of your neck, nipping and teeth grazing across your skin. He’s obsessed with you.

“Wyatt,” you moan, arms wrapping around his shoulders as the hair at his base brushes against your bundle of nerves. 

Something takes over him and moves a hand to your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure. He doesn’t want to hear you say that name because it isn’t actually his. He thrusts his hips upwards, your moan coming out almost inaudibly to the tight grip he has around your throat. 

“You’re only ever going to be mine,” he growls. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the hotel room and you reach up to wrap your hand around his wrist. “Ain’t no one gonna be with you but me.” He presses his feet against the floor and slams upwards into you. He releases his hold on your throat and hears you take a deep breath. 

“A–As long as I’m the only one you’ll be with too,” you answer through a loud moan. 

He slowly rolls you onto your back and slams into you. His thrusts pick up in speed, the tightness in his lower abdomen beginning to build and build as he uses you at his disposal. He’s afraid of what this could be, afraid of what you could mean to him, because he can imagine a life with you. He doesn’t answer you though, determined to fuck the idea out of you. He’s sure that once he tells you the truth that you’re going to want nothing to do with him and he isn’t sure that he’s ready to let go of you just yet. 

“I’m gonna come,” you moan, feeling his hands grip your wrists to pin them above your head. 

“Yeah, you are,” he groans. “Fucking come for me, baby.” 

That’s all it takes. You shut your eyes and arch your back, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix repeatedly as your body begins to tremble. Your walls tighten even further around him and his hips stutter, unable to hold back himself as he releases into you abruptly. He pulls out of you and watches his come trickle out of you, the sight causing him to grab ahold of his length and pushing into you once more. 

“Wyatt!” you exclaim, reaching down to push against his lower abdomen. “Wait- Baby, wait–”

“No,” he groans, grabbing your hands once more and holding them firmly against the mattress. He continues to thrust into you, looking down at where you’re connected and seeing his come mix in with your arousal. “Fuck, you look good like this.” 

Your eyes flutter, squirming against him as the sensations become too overwhelming. “Wyatt, please… I can’t–”

“You were made for me,” he interrupts, using his free hand to draw circles against the bundle of your nerves. “And only for me. D’ya understand me?”

“Y–Yes!” you can feel your body giving way to him as yet another orgasm approaches. “Wyatt–”

“It’s Jamie,” he corrects. “Call me Jamie.”

Your brows furrow in confusion and stare into his eyes, but he looks determined. Your mind is all over the place and it doesn’t help that he’s still thrusting into you with his thumb circling your clit. “J– Jamie!” you moan loudly and he groans to himself, pulling out of you to watch your body shake through another orgasm. 

He moves to lie on his back and bites his lower lip, glancing over in your direction. “That’s my real name.” 

You’re breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as you slowly move to lie on your side. “Why’d you give me a fake name?” 

He clears his throat and looks down at you. Quickly, he comes up with an excuse and feels your fingertips run along his chest. “Guess I was still a bit hesitant giving you my real name at the time.”

You nod slowly and then lean up to kiss his cheek. “That’s fair. I’d probably give you a fake name too if you hadn’t seen my nametag.”

Jamie lets out a relieved sigh and then wraps his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side. 

“I meant it,” you say quietly. “I’d only ever wanna be with you… as long as I’m the only one that you’d be with too.”

He tilts his head and glances down at you. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, baby.”

“I’m thinking…” you whisper, slowly moving to straddle his waist again. “I’m thinking I’d do anything for you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Then give me a chance to.”

THE TRUTH AND AGREEMENT — It’s been a week since the last time you’ve seen him. You aren’t sure whether you’re ignoring him or he’s ignoring you. Neither of you have tried to give the other person a call, but despite the things he’s told you, it surprisingly doesn’t deter you from wanting him. 

You’re at work again, reading a book at the front desk when you hear someone clear their throat. Slowly shutting your book and looking up, your eyes slightly widen at the sight of him standing in front of you. He’s dressed more casually today, a black t-shirt underneath a dark colored jacket paired with jeans. His eyes soften at the sight of you as he glances at the clock over your shoulder. 

“What time are you off?” he asks.

“Well, hello to you too.”

“Hi.” he sighs. “What time are you off?” he repeats.

“Not for another few hours. You haven’t reached out,” you answer. 

“Neither did you.”

“I wasn’t sure–” you bite your lower lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Shouldn’t be.” 

“I still want to–”

“Meet me after you get off work?” he interrupts. 

Excitement flickers in your eyes and he lets a small smile line his lips at the sight. “Where?” 

Jamie takes his phone out and hands it to you. It’s his personal phone, not the flip phone that he uses for the club. “I’ll text you.”

You nod and enter your personal phone number as a contact in his phone before you hand it over to him. “I’ll see you soon, Jamie.” 

His eyes gazes up at you at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He isn’t sure why it has so much of an effect on him, why the way you’re smiling at him makes him want to just reach over and kiss you. This isn’t what he usually does – he doesn’t see the same person more than once, at least not if there’s anything that could benefit him. 

He says your name quietly and then looks over his shoulder to see someone standing in line, waiting for him to be done. “I’ll see you soon,” he repeats. 

Stepping off to the side, Jamie watches you interact with the person behind him. He notices the way your eyes light up, your smile so broad and infectious. Even when your eyes meet his momentarily, he feels the faintest feeling of warmth in the pit of his stomach, blossoming further into his chest. 

He doesn’t know what this means, but he really needs to figure it out soon. He needs to gain back control because he fucking hates feeling like this. 

He’s scared. Scared because he finally told you the truth and he isn’t sure if he’s going to lose you because of it. If you do decide that you no longer want this, then Jamie will have to make sure that you don’t talk about it to anyone else… which means having to clean up loose ends. 

Which means having to get rid of you. 

—

A few hours later, you’re driving to the hotel that Jamie sent you the address for. There’s an excitement bubbling within you, but not because of the possibility of having sex with him again, but because you’ll finally get to know more about him. To anyone else, they’d have run and cut ties with him the moment they found out the truth.

When you park your car in the parking garage, you’re surprised to see Jamie standing near the elevator with his arms in his pockets. You take a deep breath, trying to hide your excitement and the smile that’s itching to spread across your lips when you climb out. He walks over to you and gently takes your hand – a complete difference than what you’re used to with him. 

“Hey,” he says first. 

“Hi,” you answer. 

“Figured we could talk,” Jamie says quietly. “That okay?” 

“Yeah, more than okay.” You can tell he’s nervous, anxious because he won’t meet your eyes and the gentleness and softness he’s displaying isn’t what you’re used to. He’s always been so in control, so rough with you that this makes you a little uneasy. 

Once inside the hotel and elevators, Jamie releases your hand and presses the button to the top floor. Turning around to face you, his eyes take in your frame before he walks closer to you. Slowly, he cages you in between his body and the railing of the elevator, his own hands resting against the railing as he stares into your eyes. 

“You know you shouldn’t even be around me after everything I’ve told you,” he whispers hesitantly. 

Jamie lets out a quiet and shaky breath when he feels your hands come up to rest against his cheeks, thumbs brushing against his jawline. 

“I said I’d do anything for you, Jamie,” you answer. “I know I should leave, shouldn’t even be here with you, but I just–” you bite your lower lip. “I can’t imagine never seeing you again.” 

Before he can say anything, the doors to the elevator open and he pulls away from you. Gently once more, he takes your hand and leads you to the room at the end of the hall where he opens the door for you. He steps inside with you and takes your bag, setting it down on the counter as his hands move to your hips, guiding you further into the room and onto the bed. 

“I’ve killed people before,” he admits out loud. “I’m a greedy man. I’m not– I’m not a good person, but I can promise you that I’d do anything to give you the life that you deserve.” 

Slowly, you turn around and run your hands through his hair. “I should run from you,” you say honestly. “You’re the type of man that people warn women about… toxic, dangerous…” your eyes gaze into his, watching as he stares at you deeply. “But I want you… what does that say about me?” 

Jamie shrugs. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But if you decide that you want this… You’re going to have to commit yourself to me. There’s no leaving this, there’s no leaving me.”

“And if I choose not to want this?”

His jaw tightens. “I think you know what I’ll have to do.”

“Well then, do you need a partner?” you ask with a small smile, biting your lower lip. 

Jamie narrows his eyes, moving his hand to rest on your neck lightly. “I do it alone,” he whispers. “I’d be the one in control. You do what I tell you to do.”

You nod, hand coming up to rest over his wrist. “Y–Yes, sir.”

Sir. 

“So, what do you want?” he asks hesitantly, thumb brushing against your throat.

“You.” you answer immediately. “Whatever that means, I’m in it. I’m in this.”

Jamie lets out a relieved breath and gently tightens his hand around your throat. “I’m the one with the power… I’m the one that tells you where to go, what to do…” 

You nod. “I’ll do anything… as long as I just have you, Jamie.”

His gaze darkens and he releases his hold from you to push you back against the bed. Jamie places a hand on the mattress as he leans down over you, lips brushing against yours. “You don’t call me by my name,” he says. “You never call me by my name from now on.”

“But your name is so–”

He clicks his tongue and roughly rolls you over onto your abdomen. Quickly, he tugs down your skirt with your panties as you lean over the edge of the bed, ass in the air for him. Without hesitation, he brings his hand back only to connect with your ass cheek, the sound of the slap echoing the large hotel room. 

“You don’t talk back either,” he points out. “When you go against what I say, what I tell you, this is punishment.” 

You nod, letting out a quiet whimper as you feel the sting of his slap rush through your entire body. You grip the sheets tightly, looking over your shoulder at him. “Okay…”

He shakes his head and slaps your ass roughly once more, seeing your cheek redden instantly with the imprint of his large hand. “Hmm… Not good enough of an answer.”

“Yes, sir. I don’t talk back. I do what you say. I go where you tell me. I’ll do anything for you.” 

“Good,” he smirks, sliding in two of his thick fingers past your folds. His brows lift upwards at the feel of your slickness and he leans over to whisper into your ear. “You like being punished, hm?” 

“I just like when you touch me,” you moan, the roughness of his fingers thrusting in and out of you causing your toes to curl. It’s painful, the way he’s moving his fingers in and out of your depths so roughly, but you can’t help the way your body reacts to him. 

“Well, it isn’t quite a punishment if you like it then, is it?” he asks, pulling his fingers out of you abruptly. He looks down at his hand, the way your slickness drips down and he brings it to his lips, letting out a low growl at the taste of you. 

“Wait, but–”

He shakes his head and moves to sit on the edge of the bed with you, resting his hands on the mattress as he looks over at you. His eyes move to your backside, can see your slickness along the length of your sex slowly begin to trickle out of you. It glistens under the light and he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs, but he can’t. He needs to show some restraint, needs to stay in control. 

“You only see me from now on, are we clear?” he asks, reaching for you to kneel down in front of him. 

You scramble to your feet and drop to your knees between his legs, hands resting on your thighs as you stare up at him. You nod obediently, batting your eyelashes up at him. “Yes, sir.”

“We’re gonna the rule the world, baby,” he grins. “You and me.” He reaches down and cups your cheek, using his free hand to undo the button and zipper of his pants as he lowers it to his ankles. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of his throbbing cock, now fully erect and leaking at the tip. You lick your lips, eager to wrap your lips around him as your hands itch to reach out for him. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” you reply. 

“Won’t be easy,” he admits, stroking himself at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” you answer. “The only thing I need is you.” 

His eyes soften at that. He’s not used to feeling like this – usually, he’d have to negotiate or offer some cut of the money he’d receive, but with you… it’s easy because you don’t want any of those things. You just want him and he can’t help but feel that same warmth in his chest again. He won’t ever admit it out loud, but he’d do anything for you too. 

He doesn’t answer, but instead brings his tip past your lips. You’re eagerly lapping at his precome, sucking his tip as he continues to stroke the base of his length. He groans quietly to himself, pulling back to run his tip across your wet lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he says lowly. “And I think good girls get a reward.” 

“Please…” 

“And begging too? Yeah, baby, you get a reward.” He gently lifts you back on the bed as he lies back. “Over my face.”

Your eyes widen, clearing your throat anxiously as you do what he says. He moves further up the bed as you settle yourself over him, hands resting on the headframe as his lips hover inches away from your throbbing heat. With one arm, he reaches up and rests it over your waist, bringing you down until your sex is firmly pressed over his mouth. 

“Oh god,” you whimper, hands gripping the headboard of the bed frame. No one’s ever done this before and you’re unsure of how long you’d actually last because his mouth sucks your clit aggressively, tongue flicking against you repeatedly. You feel so vulnerable like this, completely at his mercy. You want to scream his name, but you force yourself not to. 

His eyes flutter closed as his mouth laps at your juices. You’re so wet, dripping down his chin as he moves his lips towards your hole. He flicks his tongue against you as his other hand continues to stroke himself, squeezing the base of his cock at the taste of you. He hums against you, causing a vibration to reverberate through your entire body. 

Your legs are placed at either side of his head and you begin to roll your hips against his face, feeling his tongue flatten along the length of your sex. You look down at him, the look on his face only urging you closer to your orgasm. You lift your hips slightly and he growls, shaking his head as he removes his arm from your waist to thrust two fingers inside of you. He wastes no time in thrusting his fingers as he moves to suck your clit with his mouth, tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves. 

“Baby,” you whimper. “Baby, please… I’m close–” 

His hand around his cock quickens, gripping his base tightly as he feels his own release approach. He feels a tightness in the pit of his stomach begin to build as his free hand continues to pump his fingers in and out of you as his lips pay close attention to your clit. 

Your grip around the headboard tightens until his knuckles turn white from the grip, your body trembling and shaking against him. You lift your hips away from his mouth as his fingers fill you to the knuckle. He smirks up at you, curling his fingers within your walls to help you ride out your orgasm. At the sight of you gripping the headboard, head tilted back and mouth agape, Jamie thrusts his hips slightly off the bed as he finds his own release. His come lands on his shirt, letting out a loud groan. 

Slowly, you lift yourself until his fingers slide out of you and you look over at him, seeing his hand continue to stroke himself. Quickly, you kneel down between his legs and wrap your lips around his tip, sucking the remnants of his come into your mouth and swallowing eagerly. 

He shudders against you, eyes gazing down at you as he slows his strokes, the feeling of your lips and tongue at his tip causing a shiver to run through him.

When his cock finally softens, he sits up and removes his shirt and pulls on his boxers. You bite your lower lip and move to lie down on the bed instead, feeling him lie down with you as his arms wrap around your frame. 

“If I can’t call you by your name,” you whisper quietly. “Can I call you baby instead?” you ask. 

He smiles and leans down to peck your lips lightly. “I like that, baby.” 

You grin and bury your face against his chest. “I think I’m gonna like this life with you.”

He looks down at you, watches your eyes flutter closed as the same warmth blossoms in his chest again. 

THE CON — It’s been about six months since your agreement with Jamie and you both managed to slip into a routine with each other. It’s almost domestic, how easy your life has entangled itself with his own. Right after the agreement, he tells you to move in with him, having found out that he lives permanently at the hotel, living on the top floor. You don’t disagree with him, instead, you agree and break your lease, moving most of your things to his place within a week. 

He takes you to work, picks you up, and every night, he makes sure to show you just how good of a decision you made with choosing him. You find yourself falling for him more and more every day, but there’s a part of you that’s too afraid to tell him. Afraid because if you admit how you truly felt about him, you aren’t sure how he’s going to react. You know that you’re a liability; at any moment, he can change his mind about you and you’d know that there would be nothing that you can do if that were to ever happen. 

So, you love him in silence. You stare at him lovingly when he’s cooking for you or when he’s working. You go to sleep every night with your arms wrapped around him, focusing on the sound of his breath to lull you to sleep. When he’s too busy, you make sure to cook him dinner so that he remembers to eat. You hope that he can see how much you’d do for him, how much you’d sacrifice for him. 

You haven’t seen the type of man he makes himself out to be. He’s sweet, considerate, thoughtful. You wonder if he’s hiding that part of himself from you – the man who’s killed, who’s greedy, who would do anything to make sure that he benefits from it. 

By the time he gets home, you’re seated on the love seat with a book in your hands. It’s late, but you like to stay up and wait for him until he gets home. You see the smile on his face and when he looks over at you, his eyes light up. 

“Hey,” he walks over to you and removes his coat, setting it over the back of the couch as he leans down and kisses the crown of your head.

“Hey, what’s got you smiling?” you tease, looking up at him.

“I found my next job,” he grins and gently takes your book from your hand, setting it on the coffee table as he picks you up and sits in the love seat with you on his lap. “Everything’s going to work out perfectly. In just over a month, we’ll have made more than five million dollars.”

Your eyes widen as you wrap your arm around his shoulders. “F– Five million dollars, baby? Oh my god…”

He nods with a grin. “Five million fucking dollars.” 

“What can I do?” you ask, biting your lower lip. “Can I do anything to help?” 

“Oh baby,” he says, leaning up to peck your lips. “There’s plenty of things you can do to help.” 

“Yeah?” you ask with a hopeful look on your face.

“Yeah, but first…” he bites his lower lip and brings a hand to cup your cheek, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “I want you. Gonna spend the entire night showing you how grateful I am of you.” 

You smile, staring deeply into his eyes as you run your hands through his hair. “Baby, I–”

“I know,” he whispers, interrupting you. 

“You know?” 

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Is that okay?” 

Jamie bites the inside of his cheek, eyes gazing into yours. He had noticed the way you would look at him when you thought he wasn’t looking, how much care and love you put into everything that you did for him… The five million dollars payout after this job was not only going to be for him, but also for you and what he can do with the money to make sure you had a life that you deserved. 

He knew that had fallen in love with you too, especially when his mind had drifted to you when he realized the amount of money that he could walk away with. It was no longer just him. You were now in the picture and he can’t imagine his life without you in it now. 

“Yeah, that’s okay, baby,” he finally answers. 

You smile, letting out a breath of relief. Slowly, you move to straddle his lap, continuing to run your fingers through his hair as you begin to roll your hips against his own. You had been dressed in one of his old t-shirts and nothing else, your wetness beginning to stain his pants. 

“You gonna make a mess on these expensive pants, baby?” he asks, hands moving up your thighs. “Because I don’t know how I’d feel about that. These are very expensive.” 

“Then take ‘em off,” you whisper, leaning in to peck his lips. 

“Oh, did we forget who’s the one in control here? The one in charge?” he asks, gripping your hips tightly. 

“I– I’m sorry…” you mumble, ceasing your movements as you lift your hips off his lap. 

He growls lowly, wrapping his arms around your waist and standing up from the love seat. Slowly, he walks you over to the couch and sets you down as he kneels between your legs. He holds your legs open for him, gaze darkening with lust at the sight of your sex glistening with your slickness. 

“The things I’m gonna do to you,” he says with a low tone.

—

“So, are we clear on the plan again?” he asks, readjusting his black jacket as he stares at you in a skin tight red dress. He lets his eyes rake over your frame, feeling slightly jealous that you’re likely going to be dancing with the man that he’s been getting close to, the man that’s going to be the reason why he’s getting five million dollars. 

“Yes, baby,” you tell him, straightening out your dress. “Buy him a drink, ask him to dance, leave him wanting more.” 

“Good,” he answers, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “Just a dance, nothing else.”

You nod in agreement. “I’m going home with you,” you repeat. “This will just give him the confidence that he lacks and you’ll be there to cheer him on, to get him to trust you even more so than he does now.”

He grins. “Yeah, baby. Good. Good.” 

“Five million dollars for you, right?” you smile.

“For us,” he corrects. “It’s going to be for us,” he admits. 

“I love you,” you whisper quietly, turning around in his arms and bringing a hand to rest on his cheek gently. “Let’s have some fun tonight.”

His heart races at your words and he nods, turning his head to gently press his lips against your palm. He pulls back and then takes your hand, leading you out of the hotel room and towards the elevators. Once at the lobby, he releases your hand and gently kisses your cheek. “I’ll see you at the club, baby.”

You nod and then run your hands down the lapels of his jacket before you turn around on your heel and walk out of the hotel. He looks around the lobby, his hands placed in his pockets as he watches the men in the lobby turn their heads to watch you walk away. He feels a mixture of emotions – jealousy and pride. Pride because you’re his, but jealous because other men are looking at what’s his. 

With a heavy sigh, he stretches his neck and then grabs his phone from his pocket to dial the man’s number. 

—

Jamie’s leaning back against the seat, drink in hand as he fakes genuine laughter at what the other man’s saying. His eyes scan the room, noticing the splash of red in the midst of neutral dark colors. Your eyes meet his and he smiles, watching as you bite the tip of your straw to sip on your drink. 

Then, he turns his attention back to the other man, listening to him go on and on about his divorce and how he hadn’t been able to meet anyone new. 

“Oh come on, Daniel,” Jamie says with that same charismatic grin on his lips. “A man like you can’t get another woman?”

“To be honest,” he whispers, fidgeting in his seat. “I haven’t been with anyone other than my ex-wife. I doubt a woman would want to be with a man who’s inexperienced like me.” 

“You’d be surprised,” he answers. “Because it looks like that one has been looking at you since we got here.” Jamie points his chin in your direction, watching Daniel turn in his seat to look over at you. 

“No– No way. She’s looking at you.”

Jamie laughs, shaking his head. “Her eyes are all on you and she’s walking over here.” He stands from the bar stool and gently slaps a strong hand over Daniel’s shoulder. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom. You go and have some fun.”

“Wait, but–” 

Jamie’s already walking away by the time you make your way to Daniel. You’re leaning against the counter of the bar, biting your lower lip innocently as you wave your hand to get the bartender’s attention. “His next round is on me,” you tell the bartender with a sweet smile. 

Daniel clears his throat. “I– I– I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that and–” he loses his words when he feels your soft touch on his forearm, eyelashes batting up in his direction.

“Is it too unconventional for the woman to buy the man a drink?” you tease. 

“N– No,” he stutters. “I’m just not used to women buying a drink for me… or women looking at me in general,” he mumbles under his breath. 

“Well, good thing I’m not like most women.” 

Daniel nods, eyes lingering on your frame. The bartender sets down another drink for him and you lean in, lips near his ear as you whisper over the loud music. “Do you want to dance?” 

“Oh, I–” he clears his throat. “I’m actually here with a friend and if he–”

“I’m sure he’s a big boy who can take care of himself,” you interrupt. “Just one dance? Please?” You can sense his hesitation and you bite your lower lip. You know this wasn’t discussed with Jamie, but your advancements were just not working with Daniel. Slowly, you lean in and gently brush your lips against his cheek. “I promise, I don’t bite… unless you like that.”

Daniel glances at you and then over his shoulder to see Jamie with a dark gaze, but he’s smiling encouragingly at the other man. All it takes is for one nod before Daniel downs the drink and stands up. You look up at him, smiling broadly as his hand immediately darts out to rest on your hip. “It would be very rude of me to deny you one dance,” he says softly. 

“Good,” you smile. “I’d hate to dance by myself.” You lead him to the dance floor, playing with his fingers as he follows you closely from behind. Once on the dance floor, you turn to face him and rest your hands on his shoulders. He’s stiff and anxious around you, slowly moving side to side to the beat of the music. “Relax,” you coo, taking his hands and placing them back on your hips. “It’s just one dance.” Then, you turn your back to him and sway your hips expertly to the sound of the song that filters the entire club. 

He bites his lower lip and pulls you flush against his front, his hands gripping your hips as he watches your backside brush against his front repeatedly. 

You reach around him and tangle your hand in his hair, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder as you keep your eyes focused in front of you. Jamie’s staring directly at you, hidden in the shadows as he watches you move against the other man. He can see Daniel progressively gain more and more confidence as his hand moves around to splay against your lower abdomen, lips now brushing against your earlobe. You feign an inaudible gasp, eyes falling shut as you feel the other man become increasingly excited with the way your body moves against his own. 

When the song finally comes to an end, you pull away from him and turn to face him. You reach up to rest your hand on his chest, smiling sweetly in his direction. “Thank you for the dance.”

“Wait, can I get your number?” 

You bite your lower lip and lean in to give a kiss on his cheek once more. “Maybe next time,” you whisper, pulling away from him and turning on your heel to walk towards the bathrooms. 

Jamie follows you closely, taking your hand roughly into his own and pushing you into the bathroom. He locks it behind him, eyes dark with lust as he pushes you against the wall. “I don’t think kissing him on the cheek was part of our plan, baby.”

“It wasn’t… I’m sorry. He just– He wouldn’t dance with me and I figured–”

“It wasn’t part of our plan,” he repeats, hand moving up to tangle itself in your hair. He growls lowly, tugging on it roughly which causes your head to tilt back. “It was already hard enough for me seeing you dance like that with him.” 

“But that’s what you told me to do,” you whimper. 

“Are you talking back?” he whispers, moving closer until his lips brush against the side of your neck.

“N– No, I’m sorry. I just–”

“You just what?” he asks, staring up at you. 

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I’m–”

“Thought I told you to never say my fucking name.” He clicks his tongue and pulls away from you, moving his hands into his pockets as he stares at you from top to bottom. 

You clear your throat and reach out for him, hands moving to his chest. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do good, make you proud, and–”

“Oh, baby,” he coos, taking one of your hands in his own. “You did do good. You did make me proud.” He takes your other hand and grabs your wrists to pin them above your head, looking into your eyes. “I just don’t like sharing.” 

“I– I’m all yours, I promise.” you bite your lower lip, your own eyes now darkening with lust. “All I could think about while dancing with him was you. I only ever think about you, baby.”

“It’s hard to be angry at you,” he says. “You’re just so sweet on me.”

“And I– I love you,” you add. 

He falters momentarily, clearing his throat as his grip around your wrists loosen just slightly. “Yeah?” he asks.

You nod immediately. “Y– Yes. I’m so in love with you and–”

He interrupts you by pressing his lips firmly against yours, dropping your wrists as his hands now move to your hips. The kiss is messy, urgent, and he wastes no time in sliding his tongue past your lips. He can hear you whimper against his lips and the jealousy he felt earlier is now replaced with a sudden desire to make you completely his. 

“Yeah? How much do you love me, baby?” he mumbles, pulling away from you as he grabs the ends of your dress and begins to lift it higher to bunch around your hips. 

“So much,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pepper kisses along his jawline. 

“So much that you’d let me put a baby in you, hm? Would you like that?” he uses his free hand to tug down your thong, watching you step out of it once it pools around your ankles.

You bite your lower lip and nod, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yes,” you answer breathlessly. “Yes, baby.” 

“Good,” he smiles, turning you around. He watches you rest your hands on the wall as you bend down just slightly and he groans at the sight of you, pushing his pants and boxers down his ankles as he grabs a hold of his length and slowly runs his leaking tip across the length of your sex. He leans over you, one hand coming up to tangle itself in your hair again. “Gonna fill you up, baby.”

“Please,” you plead, pushing back against him as you feel his tip slide into you. 

“Mm,” he groans, pulling away from you. “Patience, baby. Let’s not forget that I still didn’t like the way you kissed Daniel.” 

“It was just on the cheek,” you whimper. 

He growls and pulls you upright, tightening his grip around your hair. “Your lips should only be for me,” he whispers into your ear, slamming into you abruptly. He groans quietly, hand moving from the base of his cock to rest on your hip. He releases his hold on your hair to bring his hand around your front, gripping your throat lightly. “You should only be for me.”

“I– I’m yours… All yours, baby,” you moan, bringing a hand to reach around for him. His breaths come in short pants near your ear, hand lightly squeezing your throat as his manhood moves in and out of you. He’s desperate to bring you closer to the edge, his desire to fill you up with his come overwhelming his entire body. 

“Gonna make sure everyone knows that you’re mine,” he whispers into your ear, the sounds of your moans echoing off the walls of the small bathroom as his skin slaps against yours repeatedly. “You’re gonna look so beautiful all pregnant with my baby,” he nips at your earlobe, breathing heavily against you. “God, you make me so fucking happy,” he admits. “You have no idea how much you’ve changed my life, baby… how you will change my life. I’m a better man because of you,” he groans, eyes falling shut as he releases his hold on your throat to grip your hips instead. 

“I love you,” you gasp, walls tightening even further around his length. A loud moan escapes your lips as you move your hands to rest over his own, lacing your fingers over his. 

He groans and rests his forehead against the back of your shoulder as his fingertips dig into your hips, driving his own further into your own. He feels the tightness build until he slams into you, painting your walls with his come. He moans quietly, his hips stuttering as he uses your tight heat to get every last drop of his come. “Skip your birth control tomorrow,” he whispers breathlessly. 

You nod, turning your head to gently kiss his cheek. “Anything for you, baby. I really do love you,” you admit quietly. 

“I know,” he nods. “I know.” 

—

Later that week, Jamie gets home with blood splattered on his white dress shirt and knuckles bruised and cut up. You widen your eyes, ushering him into the bathroom as you grab the first aid kit. You feel a sense of dread wash over you, eyes filled with concern at the sight of him.

“Oh my god, what– Are you–” you shake your head, looking up at him. “What happened?” 

“What needed to happen,” he answers. His own eyes are distant as he stares at the wall ahead of him, feeling your hands begin to undo his dress shirt. “He transferred the money,” he grins. “And I had to get rid of a loose end.” 

“Y– You killed him?” you ask quietly, pushing the shirt away from his body. 

He nods and finally turns his gaze to you, staring deeply into your eyes. “He found out who I was,” he answers. “So, I had to do what I had to do.” 

You nod slowly, taking his hand as you begin to clean the cuts along his knuckles. Your mind drifts momentarily, knowing that you’re now forever tied to the man in front of you. You never did have to think about his capability of murdering someone, but here he is… standing in front of you with someone else’s blood on his hands, on his clothes. 

“Does that scare you?” he asks, pulling a hand away from you to hook a finger under your chin. He looks into your eyes, narrows his own as he tries to search for any hesitancy in your gaze. “Does knowing that I can kill someone for my own personal gain scare you?” 

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. “No,” you answer. 

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Then why does the expression on your face say differently?” 

You sigh and set aside the cotton ball and alcohol. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he asks, jaw tightening. “I told you what I am, who I am.”

“I know and I still love you,” you reply. “What you did doesn’t change a thing, but these hands… it’s hard to imagine that they can cause so much pain for someone else when you’re so gentle with me.” 

“Hm,” he answers. “Not always gentle with you.”

“But never with bad intentions,” you quip back. “Listen,” you begin. “I told you that I’m in this with you, whatever it takes and whatever that means.” 

“There’s no going back, you know that, right?” 

“I know,” you sigh quietly and move your hands to rest on his bare chest. “So, what’s the plan?” 

“We go wherever we wanna go, baby,” he answers. “Where do you want to go?” 

“Anywhere,” you smile, gently leaning up on your toes to peck his lips. “As long as I’m with you.”

“You love me that much, huh?” he smiles, hand reaching down to rest on your hip. 

“More than you know.” 

“I’m a lucky man,” he says softly, gently lifting you to sit on the edge of the bathroom sink as he stands between your legs. “We’ve got the entire world at our fingertips.” 

THE AFTERMATH — Six months after Daniel, you and Jamie had decided to go to Italy. You had fallen in love with the country, Jamie buying a small house away from all of the touristy areas. It’s quiet, serene, peaceful. 

You notice that he seems so much more relaxed here. The money he managed to obtain from Daniel and Jonathan providing a comfortable cushion for the both of you. You fall into a comfortable routine with him again – waking up in his arms, falling asleep right next to him. He no longer needs to work and neither do you, so you spend most of your days entangled with one another. 

He still hasn’t told you that he loves you, but through his actions, you know that he does. 

You’re in the kitchen, making lunch when he walks in through the front door. He gazes at you with a small smile, arms crossed over his chest. He walks further into the kitchen and leans against the counter, biting the inside of his cheek. Through everything that he’s been through, he never thought that he’d be here, with someone he was so deeply in love with. He never thought that he'd ever give his heart to anyone; he had always told himself that he was meant to be alone, that the life he wanted to live was never meant to be shared with anyone else.

But you… You had captured his attention from the moment you both met. Even after the first night you shared together, you were all he could ever think about. You were never part of his plan, but now, he can’t ever think about his future without thinking about you. 

When you look up from what you’re doing to see him, a smile instantly lines your lips. You set down the knife and move to wash your hands, feeling him come up from behind as he turns his head to pepper kisses along your neck. 

“Mmm, hello you,” you smile, leaning back against him.

“Hey,” he whispers. “What are you making?” 

“I was craving chicken parm,” you answer, turning around to face him. “You hungry?” 

He nods and cups your cheek lightly, thumb brushing against your soft skin. “Yeah, baby.” 

“Okay, I’ll make enough for the both of us.” 

“Thank you,” he says with a small smile, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I love you,” you smile to yourself, eyes falling shut when you feel his lips on your forehead. 

He takes a deep breath and wraps his arms around your frame, lips moving to the top of your ear. “I love you too,” he finally admits. 

You feel your heart race even faster, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “Y– You love me too?” 

He nods slowly. “Yeah, baby. I’ve loved you for a long time now.” 

You grin broadly, your teeth pulled between your lips. “I think you just made me the happiest woman alive.” 

“Oh yeah? The five million dollars didn’t do it?” he chuckles. 

“No amount of money would ever make me as happy as hearing those words leave your lips,” you admit. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he smiles. 

“We’ve got the world at our fingertips, right?” you ask.

He grins and moves his hands to rest on the edge of the sink as he brushes the tip of his nose against your own. “This world is ours,” he nods. 

“And our little girl’s,” you add, moving one hand to rest on your baby bump.

He smiles to himself and shuts his eyes, face burying against the side of your neck as he moves his own hand to rest over your own. He had always thought money would be the reason for his happiness, for his contentment, but now that he has you in his life with his child on the way, he couldn’t imagine living his life the way he used to. 

“Everything I do from now on will be for you,” he whispers, feeling a kick against his palm. “And for her.” 

---

npt: @ovaryacted - @yxtkiwiyxt - @princessanglophile - @gelibean522 - @angeiulst

[ink-stainedkiss]

You’re Nothing Special (AKA: Perfect)

- Kusuo Saiki

Synopsis: Today, Saiki is faced with the biggest challenge; going to your home. The pyschic isn’t sure what to expect, but in the end, he figures out more than he believed he would.

Guys I’m am so sorry for taking so long on the Pt.2. I fear I grew a writers block when writing Saiki, but also because I had no clue where to begin with the Reader being so boring (LMAO) so that’s why she has an average life, but she’s not a complete robot. Also, can you guys catch which Laufey song I was inspired by while writing this?

“Regular speaking.”

Regular thinking.

‘Saiki Speaking.’

Saiki Thinking

Warnings:None

Word Count: 1.6k

Pt.1 ᯓ★ Pt.2

Today was the day. Saiki was going to come over to your home to work on the project. He was more nervous than he would like to admit. He just didn’t want to mess up. It was too late to back down because he was walking through the icy winds, about a minute away from the address you had sent him. His mind raced with dooming thoughts. What if her parents barrage me with personal questions? I hope it’s not awkward. He shurred not at the cold weather, but the feeling of unpleasantness.

Before he knew it, the psychic was standing in front of your home. There was only one word to describe it. Average. Just the way Saiki liked it.

You opened the door, a blinding smile on your face as recognizable pink hair came into your view,”Saiki!” You said cheerfully,”I was wondering when you were going to show up.” Saiki softly smiled at your happiness, ‘I’m sorry, I forgot my coat at home and had to turn back.’ That’s a lie. He spent most of his time contemplating if he should go or text you and say he felt under the weather. You frowned at him, glancing past and noticing the flurry coating the sky,”Well come in, I don’t want you to freeze.”

That would likely never happen, but it was sweet you cared. He walked into your home, noticing the cleanliness of the place. There wasn’t a lot of decorations and it was easy to see you and your parents had just moved here. Even if, the psychic saw trinkets that showed off the love growing from this home. A tiny picture frame that held your child-like smile or a hung painting of your baby handprint that was worn down. Saiki took off his coat, placing it on the coat rack next to him, ‘You have a very cozy home.’

You gave him bewildered eyes,”Seriously? I think it looks pretty boring.” ‘Is that a bad thing?’ Your face showed how in thought you were about his question, and soon enough you smiled,” I’ve never thought about it that way,” Looking around, you started to see what Saiki was talking about,”I guess it isn’t.”

“Honey? Who’s at the door?” Oh no. You turn your head toward your mother, who had walked out of the kitchen,”Just my work partner,” Saiki freezes up as your mom’s gaze lands on him,”Oh! Is this Saiki?” Did you mention me before? The blush rising to your cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by the psychic,”Yes, mom.”

A delighted look fell onto your mothers face as she stuck out a hand for him to shake,”It’s nice to meet you Saiki.” He nodded softly, shaking her hand, ‘It’s nice to meet you too. Thank you for inviting me over.’ Your mother glanced at you with an impressed look,”You should bring him over more often, Dear.” Your face flushes and you whip your head around to hide it,”Mom, please quit.” You give a desperate look towards Saiki and he quickly picks it up,”We are going to head up to my room.”

Your mother has a cheeky smirk on her face, one that makes you glare at her. Eventually, she drops her teasing and lets the two of you leave. You were finally alone and it looked like you had started on the project before Saiki even got to your home. You chuckled slightly at the sigh of your floor being covered in working tools. Notebooks, pencils and pens, sticky notes, and your laptop open,”Sorry, I just wanted to work ahead.” He shook his head, ‘I don’t mind. I’m glad you care about the project.’ Saiki could have easily done the work on his own, but he respected the fact that you weren’t…well a Nendo.

Saiki watched as you dropped to the floor, getting comfortable on the wood tiles,”You can work on my bed if you want or my desk.” Saiki glanced at the options, but ultimately sat down in front of you, ‘The floors fine.’ There was a split second where you just stared at him, an indistinct expression on your face. His brows creased and completely forgot to use his powers, instead quickly asking you, ‘What?’

You shook your head in amusement,”You’re just something else Saiki.” Am I supposed to take offense to that? Seemingly reading his mind, you continued,”Not in a bad way, it’s just, most people at school they’re so loud and judgmental, but you’re not like them.” Saiki was very confused. Is it a good thing that he stuck out of the crowd? Maybe, if it meant you saw something good in him.

The day continued, the sun slowly sinking and making you turn on soft lights and candles. Somehow, you both moved to your bed and really the only thing running through your head was information that Saiki already knew. The teacher said five slides, so we can just split it evenly. I hope he’s not feeling uncomfortable. Should I speak up? But we are both working, I don’t want to-

‘Are you finding your own way around the school?’ Saiki wasn’t one to start a conversation, but you seemed to be overthinking, so he stepped in to help. There was a flash of surprise on your face, but it was gone in a blink of an eye, replaced by a light grin,”Mhm! I’m honestly shocked I haven’t gotten lost and the teachers are super nice.” He nodded along, ‘What about the other students?’

Saiki felt an odd sense in his chest as a downcast expression landed on your face, clearly it wasn’t good. To distract yourself, you typed away on your computer,trying to act unmoved by his question,”It’s fine. I think our classmates only like people who have an interesting story.” A faux laugh sounded from you,”It feels like if you're not making a scene, then nobody really cares.” The psychic's brow furrowed at your words. I wish people saw you the way I do.

Clearing your throat, you tried to air out the awkwardness you brought in and played it off,”That’s really my fault, maybe I should have lied and said I’m the child of a billionaire.” If you would have said something like that, then I wouldn’t have tried to be your friend. The work in front of you two was slowly being abandoned and now you were leaning on your wall, staring at the open space ahead,”I think I’m only feeling like this because I’m not different. I feel like the most boringest person.”

Saiki couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You made being average sound terrible, but to him that’s all he wanted. Biting the inside of his cheek, Saiki dared to press you further, ‘It might be you’re just new to school and people haven’t introduced themselves to you.’ You exhaled softly, sorrow detectable in your tone,”Yeah, but usually new kids are always being asked questions and being greeted by their classmates, but so far you're the only one who’s made an impact.” That’s sort of good to hear.

‘Would it help to hear, if I said I like the fact you aren’t different from the crowd?’ Your jaw dropped slightly. Did he really just say that? Did I really just say that? Saiki didn’t expect to hear you giggling, a genuine giggle,”Thank you, it does help.” You sighed, leaning your head back,”I’m glad I got to know you Kusuo.” Saiki had to ignore how his heart fluttered at the sound of his name on your lips.

For the rest of the night, you spoke on and on. Saiki was sure this was the longest conversation he’s ever held. You told more about your life and he saw a tiny spark ignite in your eyes. It was no shocker to say that you were beautiful, but Saiki thought that your personality shined ten times brighter. Soon enough, the talk died down and you had turned on a movie. The psychic believed he would finish the show then leave, but then something fell onto his shoulder. He whipped his head around, but his eyes softened when they landed on your sleeping face. Are you really that comfortable around me? Saiki closed your laptop carefully, hoping to not wake you, and sat there in silence.

Your breathing was calm, quiet, and soothing to Saiki’s ears. Unbeknownst to him, Saiki rested his head on top of yours, unsure if this was a dream. While you slept, Saiki started to stare. Hard. He didn’t want to sound like a pervert, but he believed you looked so beautiful right now. There was a sharp bolt of realization that hit the psychic. As he watched your sleepy state, he concluded that friendship wasn’t what he wanted with you. The feeling pounded against his racing heart. This had to be a joke. A trick? I’ve never felt like this. It was a lot for him to take in, but you managed to slip past the psychic's vision and found yourself creating a new space in his heart.

Along with this new feeling, Saiki also realized something else. The more you talked, the more he saw you weren’t a boring person. Sure, you weren’t attracting chaos and the center of attention, but you had a personality. And Saiki thought that was just as perfect. The psychic reached a hand out, a throw blanket placed on your chair rising from its spot and floating over. He let it fly up and slowly glided down, resting comfortably on the two of you. Instinctively, you scooted closer, wanting more warmth. Saiki looked over, a little smile creeping its way onto his features. While you were sleeping, Saiki fell in love.

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"YOU ARE NOT THE EXCEPTION"

Another story with Kraven AKA Sergei Kravinoff

I hope you like it! 💛

Tags: @weepingnightmarezombie

Artis adjusted the scope of her long-range rifle again so that it pointed at the entrance to her target's cabin/house.

Her bosses had ordered her to hunt the hunter, paradoxically enough. She always did her duty and never asked questions about it, so she investigated him.

She couldn't find much about him, of course. In theory, everyone believed that the hunter was a myth, a legend, a story that mothers told their children at night to make them good.

“You have to be good or else the hunter will write your name on his list, and you don't want that, do you?” the mothers said, before giving their children a kiss on the forehead.

She had never seen him in person. She didn't know what he looked like or what he was like physically. All she knew was that he spoke several languages ​​other than his father's tongue: Russian. After making a couple of calls to high-security prisons in Russia, she discovered that one of the prisoners had escaped, killing ten officers in the process.

His name was Sergei Kravinoff, of the Kravinoff clan.

Artis thought it had to be him, she was ninety percent sure, but she had to check it out with her own eyes, so she traced the map of Russia inch by inch (which took her days) until she found a mound hidden between several trees.

The app wouldn't let her zoom in, but from what she could see it looked like a house. That's how she had ended up in Russia in the middle of winter, in front of the supposed hunter's house.

She pulled her woolen hat over her head. Her teeth were chattering from the cold. Despite her fur coat, gloves, hat, and scarf, she felt her limbs slowly freezing. She shook her head trying to focus despite everything.

She looked at the house again through the peephole, and checked that she had loaded the correct bullets for the third time. It was clear that a normal bullet was not going to kill this man, so she decided to create a special type of ammunition, which when it penetrated the skin would inject Asian wasp venom, a very potent type of poison and deadly for most people.

“We'll see if it works with him” she thought, trying to cheer herself up a bit

At that moment her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. The metal hinges resonated against the hinges as it did so. She quickly looked through the peephole.

Nothing. There was no one there. But the door was open, which could only mean one thing…

The Hunter was on the loose. She slowly began to put away the rifle and take out a hunting knife from inside her shoulder bag. She squinted when the reflection of the blade blinded her. She was putting the bullets into the gun, when she felt a strong presence behind her back.

She quickly turned around with the knife raised, ready to attack. A hand stopped her movement, placing her arm at chest level. She raised her head, the amber eyes of a dark-haired man with long hair staring back at her.

They looked at each other for a few moments, moments in which Artis struggled with him, trying to stab him with the blade, or at least graze him. He didn't succeed. He hit her wrist causing the knife to fall on the snow. Before she had time to bend down, he took out his own and placed it under her chin, dangerously close to her neck.

-I wouldn't like to stain the snow with your blood, dorogoy - he said in a chaste Russian - speak, or I will make you do it

-Please don't kill me - she said trembling due to the fear and the cold she felt - please

-Your princess in trouble acts are useless with me - he said making her get up from the ground - Who are you?

Given the situation the young woman found herself in, she only saw two possible options: tell him or end up with a knife to the jugular.

She chose the first option.

-My name is Artis - she said under his watchful gaze - I just… wanted to know if the stories my mother told me about the hunter were true - she lied -

The man's blue gaze rested on her face for a moment.

-You lie -he answered, tilting his head towards the bag where he kept his weapons- you are a hunter -he explained- no one but ours knows how to use a rifle like the one you had pointed at the entrance of my house

-It is not possible that you saw me -she muttered, going over in her head the distance between her house and the hill where she was stationed- I made sure to hide well…

-Not enough -he growled, as if he were scolding her for not doing it as it had to be-

He took a step towards her, his expressive clear eyes made her stop feeling the cold that emanated from freezing her from the outside in.

-No one can hide from me -another step, for each one he took forward, she took another back- no matter how hard they try, I will always find them

Artis's back hit something hard. "The trunk of a tree" she thought as she noticed the bark digging into her spine.

-And you are not the exception," he finished, as he put his knife back in the sheath around his waist.

He watched her for a moment before speaking again.

"You can go back to where you came from and tell your bosses that The Hunter is real, and that if they're not careful, I'll write their names on my list," he murmured. Artis nodded.

"I can't do that," he whispered, making Artis frown.

"Repeat that," he asked. Artis shook her head negatively.

"My mission is to kill you," he confessed under her watchful gaze. "I can't go back and tell all the people who trusted me for this job that I haven't been able to do it."

"You can do it," he said. "But you'd be dead before you could get your gun out." He tilted his head. "You decide."

"Okay," Artis sighed. "I'll go back and tell them what you told me." He snorted. "I'll lose my job because of you. Do you realize that?"

-Better to lose your job than your life, don't you think? - he asked with a crooked smile - have a good trip home, printsessa

He began to walk through the snow back to his house. The young woman noticed that he was barefoot. Before he went any further she stopped him with a question.

-Wait! - she asked, he turned back to her - What is your name, hunter?

His blue eyes shone a deep yellow when he said:

-Kraven

Then he disappeared from her sight as quickly as he had arrived.

[chasing-posts]

People who deserve redemption, according to Thomas Astruc, written from least to worst of a bad character.

Kim Lê Chiến

Dumbass teenage boy who could have killed Marinette with a dumb prank he was completely concious of, and willing to commit. The boy was also a brat/ bully throughout season 1, but after Dark Cupid had apparently decided to be nicer off screen. Became friends with Max and got a girlfriend... BUT still refers to Chloe as the funniest and prettiest girl, IN FRONT of said girlfriend. Sees nothing wtong with what he did to the point of getting upset enough to become akumatized over the issue. He was allowed to be a super hero without even apologizing to Marinette dor over a year, and did a lot of dumb stuff tht was also forgiven just because. Is also one of the most inconsistently written characters in tbe story.

Jagged Stone

Possibly the most likable man on the list. However this man abandoned his twins and didn't contact them for 14 years. He kept his identity a secret and it's not even known if he paid child support before coming back into their lives, and constantly having fights with their mother.

That said he's put low on the list because we don't know if he did or did not pay child support. He's not mean to his children or kids in general, he is legit trying to make up for his absence and he originally left because his life was too chaotic to have custody. There's a lot of ambiguity and behind the scenes drama that is not explored (*cough thought out cough cough*) in this family, and it's even possible the mom fought for full custody to keep him away after a big break up. The situation is too ambiguous to judge.

Sabrina Raincomprix

Sabrina has been Chloe's number 1 supporter and follower for almost a decade. They were childhood friends and wherever Chloe went, she went. She has been supporting Chloe bad deeds and even happily participating throughout most of them. There were two incidents in season 1 where they almost stopped being friends and Marinette made an attempt to leave the friendship once, but for the most part has stuck throigh and done everything Chloe has wanted her to do and loved doing it. This includes stealing, faking notes, doing her homework, coming up with schemes to bully, laughing at all the chaos, making grown women and other teens cry and so much more. She was even given the dog Miraculous in season 4, by Marinette, despite doing nothing to earn it and only being good at soccer and wanting to SAVE Chloe, so they could bully another day.

In the end she's given a redemption arc because she feels bad for stealing (all of a sudden), and because Chloe was becoming friends with Lilah. The fact she's an active participant in bullying who gets off on the power trip of putting others drown, is not brought up again

Alec Cataldi

Alec's career is based on putting other people down, and is responsible for the first akumatized victim in the show back in episode 1. For four seasons, his entire personality was finding people, mocking them, on television or in person, and getting views off it. He's a spiteful man who makes his living off the suffering of others.

However in season 4 we find out that his biggest dream was to become a drag queen when he was little, and he was mocked for it. After that happened he shaved his hair off and started putting down other people's passions, in the same way his had dreams had been squashed. After his first and only akumatization, he has a break down and epithany, decides to live his true self and raise people up instead instead. On paper, he has the best redemption arc so far.

Félix Fathom

Fèlix was introduced in season 3, and his first on-screen acts include destroying Adrien's things, trying to ruin his cousin's reputation and leave him friendless, sexually assaulting Ladybug, and stealing from the Agreste family. He continues his bad deeds in season four with identity theft, and stealing all the Miraculous' from Ladybug and giving them to Gabriel/ AKA Hawkmoth, in return for the Peacock Miraculous.

We learn in season 5 he's a sentimonster who's been acting out due to an abusive father and his fragile existence in the world. He uses his power to remove everyone in the world in a misplaced effort to make him and his cousin happy, before eventually being talked down by Kagami and Adrian.

He eventually starts stalking Kagami and after revealing himself, they start a relationship together. He seems socially inept and yet despite all his knowledge on his, Adrien's and Kagami's situation, he decides to never tell Adrian aboht what's happening and only Marinette in the most awkward dance number ever.

All in all Fèlix had every opportunity and all the power to reveal Hawkmoth's true identy from the start, but never took the steps to reveal his identity and work towards true redemption. And if he decided to tell Chat Noir/ Ladybug the whole story, the three of them could have defeated monarch. And Adrien and Kagami would nit have been forced to goto London.

André Bourgeois

Andrè is a corrupt mayor, who uses his elected title and money to regularly take advantage of the people of Paris. He has fired people without just cause (even his own "friends"), tried to steal things he was denied, abused funds, and enable his daughters worst decisions. He raised Chloe alone since she was 4-6, and has both neglected her emotional needs, refused to parent his child, rewarded her bad behavior with material possessions, and allowed her to idolize her mother, and even encouraged her to model her behavior after her mother she abandoned them, and then abandons her and hands her over to her abusive mother at the end of the series, while taking in her half sibling, who he has not raised and has no legal claim over.

Andrè blames the women in his life for how he's turned out. Claiming he only wanted to be a film director, and only left to be a successful business tirant and corrupt political figure, for his wife Audrey. Who he still stays married to after she cheats on him, and moves away for half a decade, abandoning hik and their own daughter. He chooses to stay married. Chose to stay in that career and chose to constantly rip off and screw over the people of paris. Often being the cause of akumatization, and ruinging big events for his daughter's whims. Keep in mind, the only reason Chloe is like this now, is because of Aundrè's parenting, yet he never takes responsibility for that, and instead decides to abdocate his position, illigally allow his daughter to take control of the city, let her take all the fall for HIS crimes, and then abandon her to live with his step daughter instead.

All this to say that Andrè may be the second worst on the list, but I hate him the most.

Gabriel Agreste

What can't you say about this man. This man loves being evil. He dances through the halls when a scheme looks like it's about to work. His entire power is taking advantage of people at thier worst, enslaving them and then making them do his bidding. His list of victims includes literal babies, children of all ages, the mentally ill, the elderly, and even his own son. The son which he claims to love but whom he actively manipulates, abuses and mistreats throughout the ENTIRE series. He literally controls him to make him do whatever he wants, and when he acts out or says something he does not like, he belittles him and will actively punish him if he gets less than perfect.

Gabriel also disrespects and will backstab all his allies. Has enslaved 2 kwami's and claims everything he does is for his dead wife, whose corpse he keeps locked away in his basement. He is actively going against her wishes to stay dead and manipulates the love of the women around him, like Natalie, to move forward with his evil plans.

Lastly when he says he does it all for his wife, he's lying. Because the when he has the opportunity to go back in time and save his wife, or fight Ladybug, he actively chooses the latter.

He constantly terrorizes Paris, actively makes situations worst for people to make more akumatized victims, destroys property, all while he hides away in the shadows. Then finally in season 5, when he is confronted by Ladybug, he is given the opportunity to reform and really think about what he did. To reflect on all he's done. He uses a moment of vulnerability and weakness to manipulate Marinette and treats her like the puppet she's named after. His last act of the show is stealing the Miraculous, using the cat and Ladybug to destroy and recreate the world how he wills, where he's the hero and no one knows he's the villain, and his son who he abused for 5 seasons and now has left parentless, now sees him as a hero.

[emmabirb8]

My first official venture into a super rare pair, EmmaStan, aka Emma-May Dixon and Stanley Pines!! @cosmo-shell and @slug-ball opened my eyes to the concept of these two, and WHOA the potential really stole my heart. It's absolutely not what they're serving out front, lmao, but the ship has bewitched me body and soul nonetheless. I just fell in love with the idea of these two tortured souls finding comfort in each other during the most difficult periods of their lives. They've been through HELL and deserve nice things. 😊💖 (And Emma-May in particular deserves WAY more love and attention in this fandom!)

My personal interpretation of Emma-May was mainly inspired by this piece by @birdskullz and this piece by @cosmo-shell.

Check out my AU fic for them here if you want! I haven't attempted a multi-chaptered fic in a VERY long time, lol, so hopefully this one will pan out well. First two chapters are up, but I've got more drafted out that will be posted very soon!

Writing out some key HCs about Emma-May and a rough timeline of events I constructed for my AU fic under the cut here:

Emma-May's family moved from Kansas to Tennessee when she was less than a year old, so she was raised in TN

Her mother is black while her father is white, and she has two older sisters

She became friends with Fiddleford and his siblings sometime during childhood

She attended college in New Jersey (went to a school I made up called “Gertrude University,” sort of a ref to the real university of Rutgers), majoring in botany, while Fidds ofc went to Backupsmore somewhere in the midwest 

Met Stan by chance once as a college student about a year after he was kicked out of his house and was still struggling with treasure hunting (probably around 1970 or 1971)

Married Fidds anywhere from 1973-1975 when they were in their 20s – felt pressured from family and society to get married, but they were best friends and did love each other (but the marriage was covertly strained from the beginning bc neither could get what they truly needed from each other – best friends don't necessarily work as a married couple even if some level of attraction is there along with the love)

Had Tate in the early-mid 70s, both love him to pieces and Fidds was a very devoted father up until he started unraveling 

Fidds left his family around the very late 70s to early 80s to work with Ford

Fidds abandoned the portal project in the early 80s, at that point already having started his descent into madness due to his reliance on the memory gun

Emma-May filed for divorce after becoming fed up with his bizarre behavior, lack of calls home, and a big fight they had around Christmas of the early 80s

The “homicidal pterodactyl-tron” attack happened during springtime after that Christmas, and this solidified Emma-May's decision to take Tate someplace safe (to stay with her aunt who lives in another state) while she set off to Gravity Falls herself to try to track Fiddleford down and figure out wtf happened to make him so different and dangerous 

At some point either right before or after the pterodactyl attack, Fidds created the Society of the Blind Eye and subsequently lost what remained of his mind and memories

Emma-May bumped into Stan, once again by chance, the night before he arrived in Gravity Falls upon Ford's request

[thatgirlstrawberry]

See this?

That’s the look of pure horror, when his girlfriend’s father aka Aaron Hotchner storms into the working space the chief landed them (just imagine they are on a case somewhere far away) and LITERALLY seething and *angry vocalising* his disagreement with theirs relationship, because Spencer’s 5-10 (just age gap idc) older (reader’s over 18 for dear life) and she just started working there (7months). Derek has to physically restrain him from hurting his not so soon son in law. He calms down soon enough to get to work, but they’ll have a big talk about it, including Rossi. Cuz this man can’t hold a secret for dear life. I can imagine the ANGRY FACE Hotch does 🤬🤯 when he finds out about it. Also can you make it a lil bit longer with spice? Like after the big disapproving talk with Hotch, that they freely have a long hot makeout sesh, not worried about her dad finding out about them. In their apartment, where he’s sitting with his back to the headboard, hands tightly squeezing her hips while she’s whining on his lap.

I Hope this text above was coherent enough for you to consider making something with it. I hope that both sides of your pillow are cold. Ily<3

YESSS OMG

Not-so-happy Hotch

In which Hotch finds out that Spencer and Y/N have been seeing each other and is not happy about it

Warnings: angst, angry angry Hotch, spoilers from season 5, age gap (9 years), reader is 18+, heavy making out near the end + grinding kinda, sadness a lil bit, fluff, lmk if I missed anything!

Spencer Reid x fem!hotch!reader

Y/N sat on her bed alone, in the hotel room. The team were in Massachusetts investigating the murders of a variety of women. It was her third case. She’d only been there for about 7 months.

She’d been dating Spencer for 4.

The day she walked into the BAU in her little white blouse and tight black jeans, Spencer had his eyes on her. Not just because of her body but because of her bright personality. He couldn’t believe how wonderful she was even after what she went through.

He obviously knew her before she started on the job, she was Hotch’s daughter. She first fell for him when she was 18. The day Haley died. She was with Jack and her in the house. Foyet had tied her to a chair and had her watch him kill Haley.

It messed her up. It made her want to stop people who did the same to other people and their families. She had originally wanted to be a teacher but everything she saw that day changed her entire life.

Spencer was the one to untie her because her father moved right past her, putting a finger to his lips with his gun raised in the other direction.

Y/N felt her mother’s blood splatter all over her face and clothes as Foyet shot her in the head. She squeezed her eyes shut and let a muffled scream out over the gag he had tied around her head. The sound of Haley’s body hitting the floor made her flinch.

She didn’t dare open her eyes but she could tell Foyet moved closer to her. “I’m gonna go find that little brother of yours and you can watch me kill him too.”

And he moved her mother’s body.

Y/N cried and didn’t open her eyes until she knew he was out of the room. She tried so desperately to get the cloth out of her mouth but nothing worked.

Moments later, her dad appeared. She widened her eyes and whined. He let a tear slip from his eye and pressed his finger against his lips.

He moved past her and looked forward, making sure that his gun was pointed forward. Then all the noises from fighting and gunshots were heard.

She let out more screams hearing her father fight for his life. It was almost like she couldn’t breathe., she was screaming so hard.

Then she heard them tumbling down the stairs. Punch after punch.

“Reid, get her out of here!” She heard the voice of her uncle Derek Morgan behind her.

Suddenly, Spencer Reid appeared in front of her, making sure not scare her. “You’re okay. You’re okay, look at me, Y/N.” Spencer rushed as his hands tore at the knots around her hands and feet.

She looked into his eyes trying to stop the tears. When her hands were untied she reached up and tore the cloth from her mouth. When her feet were untied, Spencer wrapped his arms around and pulled her up from the chair.

She buried her head into his shoulder trying to contain her sobs as he carried her out of the house. “Is my Dad okay!?” She asked when he set her down on the ground. “Is he dead too— what about Jack— where is Jack!?”

Spencer shook his head and watched her eyes dart around. Her chest heaved but she was barely taking in any air. “Y/N, stop. Look at me, please.” Truth was, he didn’t know if Hotch was dead or alive.

The woman stopped looking everywhere else and settled on his eyes. “Take a deep breath in.” He held her hands tightly in his. He watched her body shake as she did what she was told. “Now let it out.” She nodded and squeezed his hands a let her deep breath out through her rounded lips. “Good. Keep breathing just like that.”

Y/N had always had a little girl crush on her father’s coworker. He was cute and awkward and had a nice smile. So, when she started working there, she was able to get to know him better.

“Everyone, meet our new liaison, Y/N Hotchner.” Garcia squealed and clapped, Morgan smiled and went in for a hug and Spencer stood back with his hands in his pockets with a small smile on his face.

Hotch turned to the rest of the team. “She’ll start out as a liaison but we’re working to get up to profiling level. She is a part of this team just like all of you.”

Days after that, past her mother’s funeral, she left town. She went to college, pretty much reset her entire life. One day, after all her classes she went to get coffee. All by herself. She didn’t have many friends anyway.

While she sat by the window with a book and her coffee, someone familiar walked in. She didn’t see him at first but when she heard his voice across the shop, she looked up. “Spencer?” She called.

He turned around and was pleasantly surprised. “Y/N!” He raised his brows. “What— how—“ he paused. “Hi, how are you?”

She pressed her lips together. He had the same look on his face that everyone did when they asked her that question. Pity. “Y’know, I’m okay.” She shrugged.

Spencer nodded. “G-good.” Y/N took the pause to look at him. His hair was longer, stubble was grown out, he was really fucking pretty.

She inhaled deeply, a wave of confidence washing over her. “Can I… buy you a coffee?”

Spencer tilted his head with a smile. “No.” He shook his head. Y/N visibly deflated. “I-I already bought one.” He leaned in a bit closer. “You can buy me a chocolate donut with sprinkles though.”

She scoffed jokingly. “Wow. Begging a broke college student for food.” She rolled her eyes with a teasing smile, pulling her wallet from her back pocket and walking up to the counter. Spencer blew a raspberry and followed behind her.

In her hotel room, Y/N pulled her knees up to her chest waiting for his knock at her hotel door. Her heart always raced when she realized that they could be caught by her father. But she loved Spencer and she fully believed that nothing could stop her from seeing him. She knew her dad would probably have a big problem with it. Y/N was now 24 and Spencer was almost 33. She knew also that he didn’t want her dating anyone for that matter.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She smiled and bit her lip, climbing out of the bed. She walked to the door and opened it. “Yes?” She raised her eyebrows, trying to keep her composure as Spencer stood there with a small smirk and a small pink box in his hands.

“I have a delivery for a Ms. Y/N? Is she here?” Spencer asked, his eyes gliding down her body.

She shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. “Depends. What’s in the box and what do I owe my amazing delivery man?”

Spencer stepped forward a bit. “There’s a donut in the box. And you owe me a few kisses as the delivery fee.” He smiled, his eyes were soft— puppy dog like.

She bit her lip. “Well in that case…” She pulled him into to room by his tie and shut the door quietly.

Unbeknownst to both of them, Hotch was standing at the end of the hall watching this.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N was outside talking to a few news reporters who were asking questions. Her dad and Derek went to check out the latest crime scene. When she saw the SUV roll back into the parking lot of the station where base of operations was set up.

She nodded at a man with a microphone who had asked her a question. “Everyone should stay inside, lock all doors and windows. Don’t answer the door after 7. Be safe and if you know anything, call the number on the screen.”

She walked away towards the SUB and furrowed her eyebrows when Hotch got out of the car hurriedly.

“Hotch— wait! Hotch, you gotta cool down!” She heard Derek’s voice from the other side.

She furrowed her brows and tilted her head to the side. “Dad, what’s wrong-“ He pushed past her and walked towards doors of the station.

Derek rushed past her too. “What the hell?” She whispered, following them.

“Hotch, just give the kid a damn second!” Derek called after him.

Their voice disappeared as they entered the station. Y/N’s eyes widened when she realized “the kid” was Spencer.

Inside, Spencer was drawing lines across the map of Massachusetts where the murders happened when he heard Derek yelling. Luckily, the place was clear of cops because they were in a small town and all eight cops were assigned to keep watch of a few people.

“Spencer Reid, get your ass here right now!” His voice boomed and all of the blood seemed to drain from his face. He whipped his head around in shock and turned away from the board nervously. “Mind telling me why I saw you go into my daughter’s room last night?” He asked, his hands placed on his hips.

Y/N walked up beside Morgan who had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. Her eyes desperately tried to connect to her boyfriend’s but the poor man was so scared he didn’t look anywhere but at Hotch. “I-I…uh…”

Hotch walked forward closer to him a little too quickly for Derek, Spencer and Y/N’s comfort. “You better give me a real good excuse and o don’t wanna hear what I’m thinking.” He shook his head, his voice low and intimidating.

Spencer didn’t say anything so Hotch all but lunged forward and Derek reached and grabbed his arms, pulling him back.

“Dad, stop!” Y/N cried.

Derek pulled him back more. “Come on, Hotch. Take a breath.”

“Let me go, Morgan.” He shook his head and shut his eyes.

The man shook his head too. “Not unless you can truthfully promise me that you won’t hit the kid.” He paused for a moment and when he didn’t get an answer, nodded. “Guess I’m not lettin’ you go then.”

Rossi walked into the building with JJ and Prentiss behind him, all of their faces contorting in confusion. “What the hell is this?” The man asked, holding his hands out.

Hotch didn’t spare a glance at them. “Reid’s messing around with my daughter.” He said.

Spencer shook his head. “I-I’m not messing around with her, I love her!” He blurted. The room was silent and it seemed to make Hotch even more mad.

He turned, ripping himself away from Morgan, pointing at his daughter. “Outside. Now.” He walked past her and towards the doors, pushing Rossi’s hand away when he tried to reach for his shoulder.

Y/N looked around at everyone, holding eye contact a little longer with Spencer before sighing and turning to leave the station.

When she got outside, her father was there with his arms crossed and a stone angry look on his face.

“Dad—“

“You are not to see him in a romantic way ever. Or I will fire you from this job.” He saw how her eyes softened and tears filled them.

She shook her head. “Do you think— I mea do you think I’m just messing around, dad?”

“Yes, I do. Y/N, It’s wreckless and unprofessional.” He nodded.

Y/N squinted. “You think so little of me? That I would let him play me like some game?”

“You are a child, Y/N—“

“I am a grown ass woman and I’ll see whoever I want to see.” She stopped him.

“He’s almost 10 years older than you!” Hotch scoffed.

She groaned and covered her face. “We are both mature adults. I don’t think it’s that much of a problem, dad.”

He stopped moving and looked at her. “I mean It, Y/N. Stop seeing him or I will fire you.”

Y/N have him a challenging look. “Do you want my badge now, then?” She raised her eyebrows and stuck her hand on her hip.

Hotch seethed. His daughter was just like him and it sucked.

“Get back to work for now but it’s mine when we get back to Quantico, understand?”

She shook her head with a roll of her eyes and pushed past him.

“And I don’t want you near him either!”

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Case closed. And now they were on the way back. The entire jet was uncomfortably silent.

Y/N didn’t show it on the way back but she didn’t think that her father was bluffing anymore. They landed on the air strip and when everyone was off, her eyes filled with tears.

It was only her and her father left. She pulled her badge from her coat pocket and walked up to him, holding it out.

He looked at the badge for a moment and then at her. He sighed heavily and turned away from her, exiting the jet.

She raced after him. “So, what— you’re not firing me?” She called. He stopped and turned to her.

“Get Spencer and meet me in my office.”

He left her there, a billion possibilities racing through her head. Would he fire Spencer instead? Would he fire both of them?

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

“Spence!” Y/N whisper shouted as she walked behind him.

He flinched and turned. “H-hi.” He nodded. He hadn’t spoken to her since the day Hotch almost beat him up.

“Uh… my dad wants us in his office.” She nodded.

He nodded and visibly grew nervous. “I- okay.”

Y/N stopped him from walking and tilted her head. “Spencer, wait.” He looked down at her. “Don’t be… scared. I won’t let him do anything. And he won’t fire you. You’re too good at this.” She smiled, placing her hand in his.

He opened his mouth but then closed it before deciding that he was going to say something. “I-is there any way we can hold hands until we get to Hotch’s office?”

She tilted her head to the side and didn’t respond, she only squeezed his hand tighter.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N, for Spencer’s safety not for her comfort, net go of him when they reached her father’s office. And she walked in first. Spencer followed behind her, his nervous stare causing him to move quicker and knock over a file that was on the little table near the door.

Y/N saw Rossi standing in the corner. She furrowed her brows and tilted her head.

She looked back at Spencer before looking at her dad who still looked very angry. They stood side by side and in silence until Hotch spoke.

“Sit.” He pointed at the two chairs in front of the desk. Spencer almost immediately fell into the chair, Y/N slowly sat down in the other one.

They were enveloped in silence once again. Hotch sighed and looked down at his desk. “Listen,” He started. Y/N bit her lip. “I do not approve of your… relationship in any way.” He shook his head. “But, I can’t afford to lose either of you. This job needs you.”

Rossi shook his head. “This team needs you.” He crossed his arms.

Spencer and Y/N looked at each other. “I think your relationship is premature, unprofessional. I expect you to at least think about a break up for the good of the team.” He nodded. Y/N looked down at her lap. “Y/N, you may go.”

“But-“

“Now, Y/N.”

She looked at Rossi who nodded his head comfortingly, telling her silently that Reid would be okay.

She got up from the chair and took one last look at her boyfriend before leaving.

She decided she would go home because there was no way her father’s little talk wouldn’t take more than and hour.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Y/N paced in her kitchen, worried for her boyfriend’s well being. She hadn’t heard from him in two hours.

She had changed from her work clothes into a shirt that belonged to Spencer and a pair of pajama pants. She had also cooked because she knew Spencer would not have eaten between the time he left the BAU and when he got to her apartment.

She heard the familiar knocks at her door and rushed to it. She flung it open and there stood her boyfriend who looked sad. Y/N pulled him inside and wrapped her arms around him wordlessly. He leaned down to bury his head in the crook of her neck.

“Are you hungry?” She whispered, her nails lightly gliding over his upper back. He shook his head. “Do you want to go talk?”

He nodded and she pulled away from him, keeping her hand in his. She walked with him to her bedroom.

He climbed up on the bed first, his back pressing against the headboard. Y/N began to sit down next to him but he pulled her over his lap, hands settling on her thighs. “Spence…” She brushed a piece of hair out of his face.

“He Uh…” He cleared his throat. “He told me that he wanted me to break up with you. And then when I told him that I couldn’t do that, he told me not to hurt you or he would ruin my life.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side and rubbed his cheek bones with her thumbs. “I know you’d never hurt me Spence.” She shook her head.

He smiled and leaned in a bit. She kissed his lips slowly. “I don’t care that he doesn’t want us to be together.” She shook her head.

“Me either.” He nodded, trying to catch her lips again. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands found her hips.

Their kiss deepened and his hands guided her body back and forth over his lap. A little noise came up from her throat and she accidentally bit his lip. She pulled away when he hissed and giggled quietly. “I’m sorry, baby.”

He let out a deep chuckle, squeezing her hips. “Bite me as much as you want. You know I love your mouth.” He whispered in her ear seductively. Y/N’s eyes all but rolled into the back of her head.

She whined and leaned back in, his tongue entering her mouth almost immediately. She absolutely loved his kisses. He always tasted like peppermints and chocolate.

His hands moved her back and forth again, she tried to ignore the feeling of his hardness underneath her. She moaned into his mouth, her fingers tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck.

Desperation to just be close to each other enveloped them. When they broke away for just a second, his name left her mouth breathlessly. It wasn’t to get his attention, it was to tell him that she was scared. She had been scared of losing him.

They felt closer than ever before, both of them on fire for the other. They had no care I. The world of who approved of them or not.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

Helloooooo i hope you enjoyed this! If it’s not how you expected I will happily rewrite it to the best of my ability!

I tried to add some flashback scenes to make it longer. Also, I made Hotch really mean bc I didn’t know how else to write him but I love him so much!!

Thank you for requesting @thbidkbutok !!! Luv you babes!

Also, feel free to request anything you want! In my ask box or private message!

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[zahri-melitor]

Dick isn't Damian's Parent

Thinking again about the push to see Dick as parental towards Damian and the reasons it does not land for me (and is not my reading of the Dick!Bats era):

There’re a few points I want to establish up front:

Not every person who cares for or supervises a child is their parent or guardian.

Having the ability to set boundaries and consequences for a child is more persuasive of parenting but not determinative.

My fundamental determination is the ability to make decisions on behalf of the child and about the child, including in respect to boundaries and consequences, is what places a person in a parental position to a child.

If you have ever spent any time around parenting groups or online parenting forums, you have heard the debate over “the dad is not ‘babysitting his kids’ he’s parenting”. (My apologies for everyone who just experienced immediate war flashbacks) But while this traditional devaluing of what is expected from fathers in relation to active parenting of their children, it’s a discussion that at its core has an important kernel of truth: when is the person supervising a child parenting the kid, and when are they a carer? And in traditional divisions of childrearing, fathers did not do a lot of the hands-on parenting, leading to the ‘babysitting the kids for the wife’ joke. Because the guts of parenting: setting boundaries; setting and enforcing consequences; the day to day ‘keeping a kid alive’ work of food and clothing and medical appointments; of supervising children; of teaching rules and emotional regulation; of making care decisions on their behalf? A lot of that fell on the mother. (Even in that awful dynamic of the consequence of bad behaviour being ‘wait til your father gets home (as he’ll belt you)’ from a mother, she’s still the one establishing the boundary that was broken, and setting the consequence – seeing the father for discipline).  

Fundamentally, the relationship between a superhero and their sidekick is not a necessarily parental one. It’s better framed as mentoring, particularly when there’s an adult-child dynamic in the relationship. Is Dick!Bats and Tim!Robin a parent-child relationship? No, even though Dick actually spends a chunk of their time teaching Tim skills and mentoring him (including housework! Actually a lot of housework! Dick cooks for Tim and gets him to help sweep and shows him how to do laundry).

‘Is Dick parenting Damian’ comes accompanied by a second question: is Alfred parenting Damian? Because I will happily argue that Alfred is doing the lion’s share of day to day childcare of Damian outside of costume.

If we define the period that Dick has effective custody of Damian as Battle for the Cowl to Flashpoint (given Bruce is only intermittently home between his return and Flashpoint), then we have a number on panel moments outside of things that are pure vigilante field decisions that should be considered in regards to ‘who is Damian’s parent’.

We have Alfred declaring that someone needs to take responsibility for Damian (as he won’t, step up Dick). However. Once Alfred has arranged the situation to his liking (aka he is not the Official Person In Charge of Damian), he…proceeds to act exactly like he always does in regards to anyone living in the Wayne household: he cooks their food, cleans their clothes, supervises underage members of the household during the day when other people aren’t around, tends their injuries, may send them to bed, is arguably educating Damian during this period if Damian is in fact receiving any formal education (Damian is not in school during Reborn), etc. This is actually a massive chunk of the day to day responsibilities of parenting. Now, that doesn’t make Alfred Damian’s parent: first of all there’s the ‘Alfred is paid to do this’ aspect of Alfred’s relationship with all the Waynes, which can never be overlooked, just like another family might hire a babysitter or an au pair or a nanny or a servant/’help’ to do a lot of the basic labour associated with raising a kid. Or that child might be in daycare or school where they are again under paid adult supervision. Secondly, Alfred very clearly is disclaiming his responsibility for making decisions on behalf of Damian. He is saying it is not his job to arrange education for Damian or to financially support him, or to set boundaries and consequences for Damian’s actions. He can and will enforce rules and boundaries others set, but he won’t decide what they should be.

Setting Boundaries and Consequences This is something I do agree Dick does somewhat, in regards to Damian. However I will point out he is…not great at it.

This is a major issue, as Damian is in desperate need of boundaries given his upbringing, even more than an average child his age, and his testing those boundaries is rarely reacted to in an adequate manner to make Damian feel safe while still enforcing consequences for bad behaviour. (This is a recurring problem for Damian as a character ever since his introduction, up to the present, actually).

There are a lot of children who have parents who are bad at setting boundaries and consequences. Ask any teacher or coach (or any parent about That Kid at playgroup). But it’s also a sign of someone who’s not actually parenting a child, particularly when there isn’t a more convincing argument for why that person is the ‘parent’ (such as legal responsibility as parent/guardian).

There are three prominent moments I can pick out around the early Dick and Damian relationship over Dick enforcing boundaries and consequences with Damian: the Red Robin #1 fight Dick breaks up between Tim and Damian; the Hit List fight in Red Robin #14 between Tim and Damian; and the War of the Robins situation in Batman & Robin (2011), particularly Dick’s reaction in #12.

In short: Dick is trying what’s commonly considered ‘gentle’ parenting, but fails to enforce any consequences for Damian’s actions. Let’s go through this.

Red Robin #1: this is the least parental and most big brother and ‘overwhelmed and just reacting’ of all three situations. In terms of what Dick does towards Damian’s actions: he tells Damian to ‘shut up’ after insulting Tim, twice; and grabs Tim to stop him punching Damian again. We don’t ever see whether Dick talks to Damian about his language or attitude (because it’s not a comic focused on Damian), but honestly this shouldn’t be considered parenting; Dick’s a frustrated older brother here breaking up a fight between two of his siblings. His focus is to the stop the fight and then attempt to continue the conversation he was having with Tim about the support Dick’s looking to get from Tim. The consequence of Damian’s behaviour is being told to shut up, which…eh. Unlikely to be effective in any way.

Red Robin #14: Again focusing on the situation that Dick walked into – he gets the story of what happened from Tim and Damian (we the readers know it wasn’t a full story, but Dick’s working with what they said). Dick then validates Damian’s feelings and sends him out of the room to recover while saying he’ll talk to Tim about this, and proceeds to work with Tim to stop the situation happening again (by talking through what Damian’s feeling with Tim, and then working with Tim to upgrade his password). Notably, while Damian has his hurt emotions recognised, Dick never points out to Damian that Tim should be able to expect for Damian not to snoop through a password protected computer file and it’s Damian’s own fault for looking and getting hurt. There are no shown consequences from Dick to Damian over ‘this is the result of you breaking a boundary (hacking Tim’s files)’. I again note this is in Red Robin, but that conversation does not say that Dick will come and talk to Damian once Damian’s cooled off. Dick’s actually managing to parent Tim better here on page than he does Damian.

The reason I’m not convinced there was any follow through from Dick to Damian in Red Robin #14? Batman & Robin #12 (2011).

Batman & Robin #12 (2011): in this issue we again see Dick stepping in to acknowledge Damian’s feelings, after Damian’s just declared ‘war’ on Dick, Jason and Tim to ‘defeat’ them and show his superiority as Robin (and take a trophy). They’ve just finished a boss fight and Damian offers to drive the other three back in the Batmobile. Tim and Jason extract themselves from this with the minimum level of politeness possible. Dick takes up the offer and at that point says to Damian: “you don’t need to try so hard, Damian. If you hadn’t noticed, kid, you’re already wearing the ‘R’ on your chest” and proceeds to hand Damian one of his escrima sticks as a ‘trophy’. This is again an example of Dick validating Damian’s emotions about a situation (feeling he needs to compete to be the best), but fails to provide Damian any boundary over his actions here. Damian gets to keep the ‘trophies’ he took from attacking his siblings without warning. He doesn’t get explained to him that this behaviour is unacceptable and why Jason and Tim have refused his offer to drive them home and left precipitously.  Dick doesn’t talk out the situation with Damian and work through what he should do next time when he feels hurt or overlooked, and about how he should respect Tim and Jason’s boundaries and spaces.

This is a common failure point seen in parents pursuing gentle parenting options in the modern era. They acknowledge the child’s emotions over the situation (good!) but provide no follow through on why the situation arose in the first place and how to avoid it happening again (and in the case of bad behaviour, some level of consequence/discipline, even if it is ‘and that’s why your friend doesn’t want to play with you’ or a time out or an apology).

Really, Dick’s not setting adequate boundaries for Damian’s behaviour, particularly in terms of family/civilian behaviour not vigilante behaviour. And he’s definitely not holding Damian to consequences (outside of outraged yells of ‘Damian!’ or ‘Robin!’ at bad behaviour in the field) for his actions.

Decision Making Power

The main evidence of Dick asserting the power to make decisions on behalf of Damian during this period is over Damian being Robin. He ‘gives’ the mantle to Damian and sanctions taking him out as Robin. He tells the Teen Titans to take Damian on the team. Dick also chooses that they will live at Wayne Tower not the Manor. He does not really make any other decisions on panel on behalf of Damian during this period, as an individual outside the mantle (and within the mantle Dick can choose these things anyway, as Batman, as the original Robin, and as someone with a lot of authority over what a Titans team is). He states or jokes to Damian that the position of Robin is conditional (“I can still offer Tim Drake his old job back”). He accepts responsibility for being a carer for Damian when Alfred pushes it on him, but is frequently reactive rather than active in terms of making decisions.

And he does not exercise decision making power, he actively defers to two people he sees as having more authority to make decisions on behalf of Damian: Bruce and Talia.

Dick doesn’t question Talia’s right to walk in and arrange medical treatment for Damian after he’s been shot and his back broken. He also accepts Bruce’s decision to leave Damian in Dick’s custody after his return and not initially take over care as a decision Bruce has the right to make on both their behalf.

I’m aware of the panels far later on when Dick tells Damian he considered fighting to adopt Damian, but alongside being writer metacommentary later on rather than textual back in 2010-2011, it’s simply not something that would have been possible; for Dick to adopt Damian would have been a fight given that he had two living parents who legally were still considered fit parents for Damian. A custody dispute resulting in “actually the 10 year old is going to live full time with his older brother, who will have legal guardianship” would be something that required legal sign off from a judge, who in that circumstance would have concluded that both Talia and Bruce were unfit to have custody of their child. Now whether or not Talia is a fit parent for Damian is obviously up in the air (if you know about the LOA), but at this point publicly, Bruce has cared for Damian adequately: he took Damian in in being informed of his existence, he provides and pays for all of Damian’s needs, he pays for home supervision of Damian when he’s away (Alfred), Damian’s living in one of Bruce’s houses (the Penthouse)… the family law system is probably only going to have an issue with Damian’s education situation, and that can be clarified by either on page confirmation he’s either enrolled at a school or is being homeschooled, but there is no evidence of any abuse or neglect that would have a judge decide to remove parental responsibility from Bruce, or make it supervised only.

Conclusion:

Dick caring for Damian does not make him Damian’s parent. There’s the possibility inherent in that if Bruce had never returned and Dick had eventually made the moves to have Bruce declared dead, he would have taken over legal guardianship of Damian and learned to act more as his parent, but in the circumstances we see on the page during Reborn and up to Damian’s death, particularly with Dick’s immediate deferral to Damian’s biological parents, he’s better described as a carer for Damian, or part of the village it takes to raise a child. He has a lot more responsibility than your average older sibling does, or even a mentor, but he’s not acting in a way that suggests Dick believes he has the right to make all the decisions about Damian’s care and on behalf of Damian.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

It's wild bc Harry made it clear he was desperate to get married and have children but it's starting to feel like it's not what he really wanted.

Harry wanted a wife and kids that could compete with, and be better than, William’s wife and kids.

He thought he got that with Meghan - remember, one of his requirements was that his future wife needed to be media-savvy and be comfortable in front of cameras and crowds (aka the only criticism Kate had). But instead, it’s been made painfully clear ever since 2018 that Meghan is only media-savvy when it comes to the people she pays and the only crowds/cameras she’s comfortable in front of are the ones that she’s paid, which is why the Megxit Manifesto included that corollary in which the Sussexes refused to work with Fleet Street (aka the ones who wouldn’t bow down to Meghan) and pledged to support small, indie journalists (aka the ones who’d write what Meghan told them to and use only the photos Meghan told them to).

Anyway, back to the point. Harry did want a family and by all accounts, he would have been very happy being a husband and a dad. Except he chose a wife for competition’s sake, and he chose a wife that doesn’t actually like him. She likes his title and his money. And that’s chipped away at everything Harry is. He loathes her because she didn’t deliver worldwide domination and instead made him lose everything. He’s probably OK with the kids, but he’s not bonded to them, not the way we see William being bonded to/with his kids, and doesn’t have a problem being away from them for so long.

Personally, I think Harry doesn’t like young kids. Maturity-wise, he’s stuck at age 12 and because of that, I think he likes that older kid age group more the ones who are 10-14ish with the same sense of juvenile immaturity. So he’s comfortable leaving his family behind for days, weeks, months at a time because he doesn’t like how needy and helpless and boring babies/little kids are. My sense is that we’ll see a huge change in Harry’s attitude towards the kids when they’re closer to age 10ish, but by that point, the damage will have already been done. Kids who aren’t close to/bonded with a parent when they’re small most definitely don’t want to hang out with a parent who’s suddenly interested in them after X years of being ignored.

(And frankly, I’ve long felt that if Harry were to divorce Meghan, he’s definitely the kind of guy who’ll get a second wife and see the kids with her as a “do over” and we’ll see him be more open and fatherly with those than we’ve ever seen him with Archie and Lili, and he’s going to blame it all on Meghan being the “wrong” wife and the “wrong” mother.)

[plutoccult]

ALWAYS THE ARTIST, NEVER THE MUSE

pairing: eren yeager x gender neutral reader

description: you know you shouldn’t have let yourself fall for eren, but you did anyway, and it only left you with nothing but hurt when you knew his heart belonged to another. after months of torture, you finally have the strength to let go, granting you the happiness you so desperately needed back in your life.

word count: 1.7k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: happy december? no, angsty december. this particular one shot is a little personal for me because it’s based off a final conversation i had with someone who i essentially let have hold of my heart for far too long and finally had the strength to let go of them a few months ago. he’s like jake gyllenhaal minus the age gap. i say this because he gave me the ability to relate to the moment i knew aka not being there for my 21st birthday! insane! i did however make it less personal by giving it some how i met your mother vibes, but there’s still inklings of my personal life in it. writing helps me heal and express my feelings in a way that i’m comfortable with, so i feel good writing this as part of my healing journey? corny to use fanfiction for healing, but to each their own. sorry if this is too angsty, but imagine how my life has been LMAO. anyway, big shoutout to my friend @toorubobatea for beta reading this. i really wanted her to read it before i posted it, so thank you queen!! and now i hope you guys can enjoy it just like she did! mwah! and i’m tagging @jeanboyjean since she so kindly asked me to <3

you knew that the day you met eren yeager, your life would never be the same, but my god, did it your life turn upside down. pulled in so many different directions you couldn’t tell what was left or right anymore. you felt like you were losing yourself in the process, but you wanted more of him like you wanted to breathe air.

it was always a mistake. one beautiful, soul-crushing mistake. he’d lead you on with mixed signals and uncertainty, but you lived for the thrill because it was the only interesting thing going on in your life. it’s “for the plot”, as you’d always say. even if your friends told you a million times he was bad news and you would only get hurt in the end, you didn’t care.

he was just your friend, that’s what you two always claimed; just friends, but you always sensed a hint of a lie in those words. you couldn’t be just friends. not when he remembered everything you said down to what you had for lunch last week or that time your mother fainted as she watched you get stitches for the first time as a kid. not when he spoke to you everyday like clockwork, a routine that seemed to come easy. how could you ever be just friends? how could it not be more?

you were inevitably in love with eren yeager, and it crushed you when you realized he never once had those feelings for you. not only that, but he was in love with someone else; mikasa ackerman, his best friend since childhood. it all made perfect sense, and you wished you never met him in the first place. but even then, you couldn’t keep yourself away from him. as long as he didn’t know of your feelings, everything would be fine, right? oh, how you were so, so wrong.

you tortured yourself every time you spoke to him. you listened to him as he pined for mikasa, too scared to admit his feelings to her. of course you knew what it was like to be in that position, the one you wanted was sitting right in front of you and he didn’t seem to have a clue. it frustrated you so much, but even so, you’d rather have something instead of nothing with him. such a sad way to feel, such a sad way to live when you think about it now. always the artist, never the muse. constantly crafting for others, nothing ever created just for you.

you’d push those feelings deep down into the darkest pit of your heart, but no matter how hard you tried, it would all come back every time you saw his face or even thought of him. those thoughts of maybe if you were prettier, funnier, and just overall better plagued your mind, but you had to shake them away. one day, you knew, you’d ultimately become fed up and blow up about it. it was the only way you knew how, the only way you could be free.

so now here you were, sitting at your usual booth in your favorite bar—assuming it may no longer be yours after tonight—waiting for eren to arrive so you could talk. you assumed he could sense your seriousness and urgency when you texted him, but you figured so be it. one way or another, you’d do this.

he arrived like you expected. you refused to let him make you second guess yourself, so you kept your cool and acted as normal before you dropped the bomb on him. besides, the shot you took before he showed up was quite the help, plus the drink you swirled around in its glass now.

eren walked over to the bar to grab a drink before heading over to the booth, expecting you to stand up and greet him with a hug like always, but you remained in your seat, clutching your drink in your hands.

“hey, i got your text.” he said as he sat down across from you.

“i see that.” you reply. he noticed you were acting different, not like the y/n he knew. it was obvious you had something on your mind, and since he knew you so well, eren could sense you were going to spill your guts about something.

“what’s up? is something wrong?” eren asked. this was it.

“i just.” you pause. oh god, you were really doing this. “i just wanted to say that i’m done with whatever this is.”

he’s silent, he doesn’t know what to say. you feel like the words are all coming out like vomit. you almost wish you were spewing real vomit right now, but you weren’t quite drunk enough for that. you had to get through this hellish conversation first, at least.

“i’m done. i’m not going to make a fool out of myself anymore. i’m done trying. i’m giving up.” you say, tears threatening to stream down your face, but you fight them away. “i’m done exhausting myself of trying to be something i’ll never be because deep down i know i’ll never be yours.”

eren should’ve seen this coming. all those times you fell silent when he ranted to you about his love problems. you always wanted to scream in his face about how the one person in this world that actually wanted him was always right there, that it was you. even so, he could never give you what you wanted, and he felt like the worst person in the world because of it.

you wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t say anything. if this was going to be your final conversation, he might as well say something. “well, speak now or forever hold your peace because i’m clearly not holding mine.”

“i mean, it’s just not what i was expecting to hear.” eren finally spoke. “i’m just shocked.”

“trust me, i never expected to say it either, but if i’ve learned anything, it’s that i care too much.” you tearfully admit. “too much about you when i know where your heart belongs and it’s not with me.”

“i’m sorry, y/n. i never meant for things to get like this.” he said with sincerity, although you wondered if it was all a lie. “and you must know that there was never any hostile intentions behind any of my actions.”

“that’s funny. it always seemed like there was.” you looked down at your drink, quickly moving your gaze back to him as he spoke once more.

“no, you…” eren paused, trying to put the words together in the best way he could. even if he didn’t seem like it, he did care someway, somehow. “you’ve been there for me when i needed someone most and i’m really, really grateful for that, but i can’t give you what you want, and i’ve been unfair to you as a result. i’m sorry.”

huh. this really wasn’t what you were expecting. where’s the insults? where’s the twisting of your words? why is he actually being apologetic and taking accountability? you wanted to say this was crazy, but this is eren you’re talking about. you always knew he was too good. too good to ever be yours, even.

“you know, this is usually the part where you flip out and make it all my fault instead by calling me delusional and crazy.” you force a laugh. might as well laugh through the pain, right?

“i’m not gonna flip out.” eren said.

“why?” you question him.

“because i know i’ve done wrong by you.” he replied.

“well, that’s a shock.” you take a sip of your drink, tempted to chug it, but eren’s words shocked you into stopping the liquid from going past your lips.

“it shouldn’t have to be, y/n.” he frowned. “you deserve someone who won’t weigh you down. you deserve to move on, even if it’s not flattering for me.”

you set down your drink as you let out a sigh and briefly cover your face, rubbing your eyes before showing yourself once more. “i hate that you’re being so nice about this. i was expecting to yell at you or something.”

“do you want to?” eren asked you.

as much as past you would have loved to, you didn’t have the energy to be bitter anymore. “no… i’m okay. this is better.”

“you sure?”

“yeah, positive.” you say, followed by silence. there wasn’t much for you to say anymore, and you couldn’t beat on this dead horse any longer. it was time to finally say goodbye, no matter how much it pained you to do so. “um, i guess we should just end this here, huh?”

“yeah, guess so.” he looked away. this hurt eren too, but you both knew this was for the best. you’ll be thankful later down the road.

“would it be totally wrong to sneak in a taylor swift quote right now?” you ask, almost immediately regretting the question.

“no, go for it.”

“eh, maybe not. too corny.” you thought it would be best to keep those words to yourself. besides, it was too hard to pin it down to just one thing. he was worth a hundred songs, ones you may never listen to the same way, but that’s okay.

“she’s a wise, wise woman, you know.” eren said, a grin slowly creeping up on his face, despite the circumstances.

“yeah, she is.” you softly smile. at least you could end this on a little good note.

“goodbye, y/n. i wish you the best in everything.”

“goodbye, eren. i really hope you get her someday.”

and with that, you placed a twenty dollar bill on the table and left the bar, no longer claiming it as your favorite and leaving it to eren, along with your favorite place to sit. like with everything else in life, nothing lasts forever, nothing stays the same, and that’s okay. you knew that now.

it was such a strange feeling, having this weight lifted off your shoulders. you had been burdened with this boulder for so long you forgot what it felt like to be weightless. you were finally clean of eren yeager, light as a feather, but most importantly, happy, and freeing yourself of such delusions was the greatest gift you could ever receive.

© plutoccult / 310802. please do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my content in or outside of tumblr. reblogs are appreciated <3

[bisectionofthemind]

𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄;  PERCEPTION  OF  HIS  INDIVIDUAL  SELF  [  INNER  WORLD  AKA  '  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃'𝐒  𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌  '&&  ROLE  IN  '  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐌 '  .

If  you  were  to  ask  them  who  came  first  HARVEY  or  𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄  ,  HARVEY  would  state  himself  .  While  𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐒  would  insist  that  he  was  first  .  Seeing  how  𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄  &&  HARVEY  view  themselves  in  their  inner  world  (   '  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃'𝐒  𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌  '  )  we  see  that  HARVEY  appears  as  he  once  did  before  the  acid  attack  .  While  𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄  appears  to  be  more  raw  ,  a  being  made  up  entirely  of  scars  .  Even  this  was  a  slow  process  ,  once  he  may  have  been  a  shadow  in  the  shape  of  HARVEY  when  they  were  young  ,  every  traumatic  experience  causing  a  part  of  his  body  to  present  a  scar  as  he  would  eventually  shield  HARVEY  from  the  brunt  of  the  trauma  they  experienced  time  &&  time  again.  Most  notably  when  he  would  front  during  one  of  their  father's  twisted  games  that  would  always  result  in  a  rigged  coin-toss  &&  a  beating  .   He would go on to mirror what he experienced in a misguided attempt to protect , their father's growl in this moments would become the voice he uses to speak with it is also why he speaks with a accent just like their father . In many ways he reminds HARV of their father , which is the main basis for HARV'S preconceived fears of him .

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒  that  cover  his  inner  world's  visage  are  not  just  reflective  of  all  their  trauma  but  also  representative  of  how  he  sees  himself  as  HARVEY'S  "  𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇  "  his  blood  &&  guts  &&  everything  that  you  could  call  upon  for  survival  .  What  humans  are  before  they  become  people  &&  civilised  ,  before  they  could  forget  the  primal  need  to  just  𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐄  .  So  in  that  he  doesn't  see  himself  as  '  human  '  more  an  embodiment  of  what  we  all  are  before  we  are  taught  to  sit  down  &&  behave  .  If  something  cannot  be  called  '  a  person  '  then  are  they  '  a  monster  ?  '  something  he  wonders  about  himself  truly  .

WITH  THIS  IN  MIND  it's  no  surprise  that  when  half  of  their  face  was  melted  by  acid  ,  revealing  underneath  the  skin  that  both  personalities  would  see  this  as  a  reveal  of  'the  face  inside'  ;  HARVEY'S  other  self  who  he  had  been  trying  to  repress  all  these  years  .

HIS  ROLE  IN  THE  SYSTEM  STARTED  OUT  AS  '  THE  PROTECTOR  '  but  the  misguided  words  of  judgement  passed  on  by  their  superstitious  father  that  HARVEY  was  possessed  by  a  demon  as  punishment  of  CHRISTOPHER  DENTS  '  SINS  '  began  to  lead  him  astray.  '  SINS  '  being  falling  for  &&  conceiving  a  child  out  of  wedlock  with  a  working  girl  .

HARVEY  as  he  grew  would  treat  𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄  very  much  the  same  as  their  father  had  .  Like  something  unwanted  ,  like  a  demonic  parasite  .  REPRESSING  HIM  .  LESLIE  THOMPKINS  .  A  therapist  who  also  became  a  maternal  surrogate  after  their  late  mother  would  insist  that  HARVEY  should  name  his  alter  .   Up  until  the  accident  in  the  courthouse  this  name  would  be  ‘  𝐁𝐈𝐆  𝐁𝐀𝐃  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐕  ‘   a  name  understandable  for  a  child  to  choose  though  detrimental  to  the  way  his  alter  would  perceive  himself  .  He  was  ’  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐁𝐀𝐃  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘  ’.   Not  true  but  how  could  he  believe  anything  else  ?   If  one  personality  can  only  be  good  the  other  can  only  be  bad  .

𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄   would  be  denied  of  any  life  at  all  ,  treated  with  shame  &&  regret  when  he  did  show  himself  .𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃  inside  their  own  mind  .  It  left  him  bitter  .  &&  SOMEONE  WHO  WAS  ONCE  A  PROTECTOR  now  𝐀  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑  ,  estranged  from  his  previous  role  though  it  is  not  impossible  to  help  him  find  his  way  again  he  is  most  likely  afraid  that  letting  his  guard  down  for  even  a  second  would  be  HARVEY'S  chance  to  get  rid  of  him  for  good  .  THOUGH  helping  his  host  remember  that  he  has  always  been  there  for  him  ,  to  shield  him  from  harm  ,  keep  his  promises  &&  do  the  hard  thing  when  HARVEY  could  not  has  seemed  to  have  brought  the  two  to  more  of  an  understanding  of  one  another  that  I  should  hope  continues  .  It  is  still  a  long  journey  to  recovery  but  in  the  end  they  could  make  it  . 

The  two  have  similar  goals  just  with  vastly  different  means  to  achieve  it  ,  both  care  about  the  city  they  call  home  ,  both  care  about  keeping  the  promises  they  made  to  the  city  &&  loved  ones  .  &&  𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄   despite  how  the  same  sentiment  is  not  returned  from  his  host  &&  all  his  postering  out  of  all  the  years  he  has  been  hurt  by  him  &&  his  disapproval  of  him  ;  CARES  ABOUT  HARVEY  MORE  THAN  ANYTHING  .    Roles  in  a  system  are  not  a  choice  but  he  plays  his  with  every  intention  of  fulfilling  it  even  if  he  is  lost  right  now  ,  blinded  by  anger  &&   pain   &&  needs  help  finding  his  way  again  .

IN REFERENCE TO ; DETECTIVE COMICS #1067 WITHIN ' GOTHAM NOCTURNE ' .

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART ONE: ONE NIGHT STAND

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

Notes/Background:

As mentioned before, I have decided to rewrite this story which is a story I have become invested in. I made some changes to the background, location and interactions between my characters so that I can follow a story outline and whilst the reader in this fic has a very specific racial and social economic background, I decided to use reference to “you” and “Y/N”. I hope no one is put off by this.

The fic plays in 2022 and, in midst of going through separation, Cillian has decided to take six months off from acting in order to volunteer at the Gaiety Theatre’s School of Acting, located in the heart of Dublin.

The following characters are relevant to this story:

Cillian (46)

In this fictional piece, Cillian is 46.  Just six weeks ago, he moved out of his material home following yet another argument with his wife Danielle who, just like him, works in the industry. She is an actress.

He now rents an apartment in Dublin while going through the initial stages of divorce and, whilst he is struggling to adapt to his new life, he knows that it had been coming. Their marriage had been in distress for the past two years, ever since Danielle cheated on him with another actor while on set.

Danielle (42)

Danielle is Cillian’s soon to be ex-wife. She, too, is struggling to adapt to the new living arrangements but has already gone on a few dates in order to get her mind of the separation.

Danielle will play an important part later in this fic.

Dermont (50)

Just like in real life, Dermont is Cillian’s friend who has been trying hard to get Cillian to go out and let his hair down.

Dermont too is married, with children, and will play an important part throughout this fic.

Nina (13)

Nina is Cillian’s daughter who he sees occasionally now that his wife makes it difficult for him to gain access to his children. Nina, however, has her own mind and does what she wants, causing some trouble for both of her parents.

Nina’s biggest passion is dancing and she attends an elite program at the Dublin Academy of Dance. The lessons take place twice per week, after school.

Nina also has a close relationship with Cillian’s mother, aka Grandma Murphy.

Max (16)

Max is Cillian’s son and spends a little more time with his father than his mother would like. At 16, he too does his own thing and, just like his father, he enjoys acting.

Kit (32)

Kit is Cillian’s personal assistant and will play a bigger part in this fic later on.

James (24)

James is your on and off boyfriend throughout this fic and attends acting classes with you.

Lorraine (23)

Lorraine is one of your friends. Lorraine also attends acting class with you.

Emma (23)

Emma is your best friend. You share a small studio apartment with her which, essentially, is all you can afford. Emma moved to Ireland with you in 2019 after you both received an international scholarship through an UNESCO project. Both of you migrated to America as children, without parents, and went through the so-called foster system there. You never found a real home back in the US and Emma was always the one who kept you in check and, whilst you were dedicated to your work, you did some things in your teens of which you were not exactly proud of.

You (22)

After having been in and out of foster care in the US, in 2019, you moved to Ireland through a scholarship program.

You are interested in literature, theatre, acting, music and, in particular, dancing.

You are an incredible dancer and teach ballet and contemporary dance to students at the Dublin Dance Academy after spending most of your days at the Gaiety Theatre’s School of Acting, learning how to act on stage.

You are in your final year of studies and your dream is to act, on stage, in front of a large audience. Unfortunatly for you though, you are rather self-conscious about your past and sometimes struggle with confidence.

What you do not know however is that your life is about too change following a night out in Temple Bar with your best friend. You will leave your past behind and become more confident with the help of someone who you never thought you could connect with.

CILLIAN’S POV

‘Common Cill! You need to get out of the house and have some fun. Let’s go for a pint. Or two…’ Dermont said to his friend as they were sitting on the couch, talking about how Cillian’s wife had caused some problems again with the children’s school. Cillian was frustrated and the exhaustion was written on his face.

He felt depressed and upset that it had come to this as, for years, he tried hard to stay with Danielle for his children’s sake. Eventually though, he gave up and this meant that he could see his children less often now, only three out of seven days per week, unless, of course, Danielle changed her plans.

After twenty years, the love was gone and so was the passion. Danielle was no longer loyal to him and Cillian had to revaluate his life at the age of 46. The two of them fought a lot and this affected the children who, just last week, said to Cillian’s mother that they were glad for the fact that their parents had finally called it quits.

Ever since their separation though, Cillian acted like hermit and stayed at home. He watched TV or listened to music, not feeling the need to go out until, eventually, his best friend had enough of it.

“I don’t know pal. I am not in the mood” was what Cillian said while Dermont barged into his friend bedroom and opened up the cabinet, looking for something for Cillian to wear.

“Too bad. We are going out. I am not taking no for an answer” Dermont responded before telling his mate to go and shower which, eventually, he did.

YOUR POV

It was Thursday evening, around 6 o’clock when you sat in the university library and packed up your books and laptop before making your way to Temple Bar. As usual, you were late and your friend Emma was probably already waiting for you.

Ten minutes later, she indeed greeted you at the door of the overcrowded pub, telling you that you were being impolite for keeping her waiting.

“I am sorry. I got caught up reading. Drama School is back next week and I need to be prepared” you said, apologising to your friend before giving her a tight hug.

“Nah, don’t apologise. I was just teasing you. I couldn’t possibly be angry at you” she smiled in response and, the truth was that, instead of being angry, she felt truly sorry for you.

You had recently broken up with James again and the break up itself was a difficult one. You were on and off, breaking up continuously, but this time you were certain not to go back to him. He had cheated on you after you had been with him for three years and the fact that he could do something so cruel broke you.

In the end, however, you stopped drowning yourself in self-pity and when Emma called you up, suggesting a girls’ night out, you agreed to join in.

Unfortunatly for you, however, your other friends, Nora and Lorraine did not come. They both attended Drama School with you and decided to see a play at the Gaiety, which was something you couldn’t afford to do. Thus, it was just you and Emma and Emma was certainly the odd one out between the four of you.

She was not in the same class with you and the others but, instead, studied fashion design worked as a bartender in Chelsea. She had dropped out of Drama School last year and was funky, outgoing and somewhat weird.

“So, are you ready to get tanked?” Emma asked as you simply stood there when you walked in, still pondering about your failed relationship.

“I rarely ever drink Emma” you reminded her and, the truth was, that you didn’t like to go out to bars and pubs either. You much rather sat at home with a good book in your hand while listening to some music.

“Well, too bad! Go and find a seat for us. We are going to get drunk and bitch about everything we hate about men, and believe me, I have a long list" Emma joked before disappearing into the crowd in order to fetch you a drink.

Just as Emma walked off, you looked around to see if you could find a table inside the crowded room but, to your disappointment, most of them were already taken.

It was a long weekend so the fact that most people were out drinking did not really surprise you and, when Emma returned with drinks in her hand, you could not help but laugh. She had purchased the most ridiculous looking cocktails, featuring both, a lot of cream on top and a Hawaiian style umbrella sticking out to the side. They were sickening to say the least but, unbeknownst to you, each of them had at least three shots of tequila.

“What is this? It looks and tastes awful” you then told her after you took a first sip from the large glass before, suddenly, you felt a slight nudge on your back which, ultimately, caused you to tumble forward and slosh your drink all over your friend’s shirt.

"Fuck” you spat as the man behind you who clearly ignored you even after running into you, so you turned around and scowled him.  

‘An apology would have been nice’ you said with frustration as Emma was drying off her shirt.

‘An apology?’ he asked with a thick Irish accent before telling you that it was you who stepped back and pushed into him and his friend.

“I did not!” you said before you swallowed nervously. “You ran into me” you then pointed out again as your eyes were drawn to the stranger’s eyes. They were several shades of blue, just like the deep of the ocean. You had a thing for men with big and beautiful eyes and despite your annoyance with this stranger, you had to admit that he was rather attractive.

He was Irish for sure. His accent was strong and his skin was pale, featuring many tiny little freckles. He had slightly greying hair which were not too short and not too long either. They looked a little messy but this style was exactly what suited him.

He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked a little worn around the knee area. His boots, too, were worn but probably expensive, made from brown leather and, around his right wrist, he wore a basic watch and on the other, he featured a leather band.

"Well, okay. I am sorry, alright? I don’t need an argument right now” the stranger said while you assessed him and it was obvious to both of your friend that you had caught each other’s attention. This handsome stranger was looking at you just as you were looking at him and his friend decided to take the lead.  

“Yes, my friend here can be a little clumsy at times” he said to you before shaking your hand and introducing himself.

“I am Dermont by the way and I am less clumsy than my friend here who, as an apology, will buy you a drink” he joked, causing the blue-eyed stranger to furrow his eyebrows.

“I will?” he asked Dermont who gave him a quick a but reassuring nod.  

“A drink would be nice. I am Y/N and this Emma” you said before shaking both of men’s hands and then asking for the other man’s name.

“And you? What’s your name?” you wanted to know.

“Cillian” the stranger responded and, after you told him that it was nice to meet him, Dermont prompted you both to follow them to the bar, which was when Cillian pulled his friend aside, asking him in a whisper about what he was doing.

“Helping you out with the ladies, mate. The one wearing the dress has caught your attention and there is no reason for you not to pursue her now that you are single again” Dermont whispered back while Cillian quickly shook his head.

“There is! She is in her mid-twenties at the most which is too fucking young” Cillian pointed out but Dermont was determined to make it happen anyway.

“Yeah, and? You don’t have to marry her. Just have some fun. Let loose. Take her home. I don’t know” Dermont said before making an interesting observation. “Despite, she clearly has no idea who you are so this is a huge bonus” Dermont told him before turning to you again and asking you what you wanted to drink.

“Gin and tonic would be nice” you said shyly before thanking him for the gesture.

“And your friend? What will she have?” he then asked for politeness sake but Emma was still not impressed by what happened.

“Nothing. I think I am leaving. I am all sticky and wet” Emma said angrily to the man who was looking at her somewhat dumbfounded now, which is when you spoke up and smiled.

‘Listen. She has had a bad day so, would you give us a minute please?’ you asked, not wanting the men to leave just yet.

You had your eyes on the clumsy blue-eyed stranger and, albeit the fact that he was clearly at least twice your age, he was cute, handsome and intriguing.  

“I got to go home Y/N. I smell of Tequila now. It is gross. I am sorry, but you are coming with me, right? I cannot leave you here by yourself” Emma told you quietly but you shook your head.

“Would you mind if I stayed? These guys look harmless and the clumsy one is kind of cute” you asked before glancing over to the stranger again, causing Emma to furrow her eyebrows.

“He is twice your age” she pointed out.

“And your point is?” you chuckled before you gave her a cheeky smile.

“Okay. He is attractive. I give you that. But you need to be careful, alright? He might be married or weird. Or possibly both” Emma lectured you and you raised a very important question, which clearly outlined your intentions to her.

“He doesn’t wear a wedding ring so I doubt that he is married” you pointed out before looking over towards the blue eyed stranger again and, immediately, your eyes met his. “So let’s say that he isn’t married or weird, would it be wrong if I was to hook up with him just for one night? I never had a one night stand before but he’s really hot and I really need to get over James. This could really help, you know…” you said, causing Emma to laugh.

‘It’s not wrong to have a one night stand silly. You are young and should let your hair down once in a while. James has been holding you back so I would say, go for it…” she told you, giving you the reassurance you needed.

“Now go and get him tiger. And text me if you are not coming home so that I know that you are safe” Emma then said and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“Yes mum” you joked before giving her a hug and disappearing into the crowd again to follow the stranger.

***

After a minute or so, you approached Cillian again. He was holding a gin and tonic in one hand and a pint of Guinness in the other. His somewhat random friend had disappeared and, without questioning him about it, you took your drink from his hand and walked over towards a quieter area with him.

“I am sorry about your friend” Cillian then said carefully while you smiled at him and leaned back against the wall.

“It’s fine, really” you told him almost shyly as he glanced at you with those sparkling blue eyes. They were large and magical and blended in nicely with his pale freckled skin.

“Where did your friend go?” you then asked while secretly hoping that he too had taken off.

“His wife called. He had to leave and told me to apologise to you for not saying goodbye” Cillian explained and you quickly realised that this was a set up.

“Really? His wife called, huh?” you thus teased, causing Cillian to laugh.

“Yes. That’s what he said. Although, to tell you the truth, I think that he was trying to set us up so, if you prefer, we can just leave it at that and go our separate ways” Cillian then said with great honesty and your jaw dropped.

“I knew it” you then laughed in response while trying hard to look surprised.  

“How so?” Cillian asked.

“You aren’t a good actor. I didn’t believe you for a second when you said that his wife called. He told you to say that, didn’t he?” you chuckled causing the handsome stranger to furrow his eyebrows.

“I am not a good actor?” he asked. He was surprised by your statement but now knew for sure that you really had no idea who he was.

“No” you said, earning you a chuckle.

“Well, I suppose I wasn’t trying to put on an act” Cillian pointed out with laughter.

“Okay. Fair enough” you responded.  “So, are you married?” you then asked, wanting to make sure.

“Why would my friend be trying to set me up with you if I was married?” Cillian asked surprised, chuckling again.

“I don’t know, but these things happen, so I want to be cautious. It just doesn’t make sense for someone like you to be single, you know…” you stammered before realising that you must have sounded like an idiot right now.

“Someone like me?” Cillian chuckled before answering your question. “I separated from wife six weeks ago, so I am single but, to be clear, I am also not interested in dating right now” he then pointed out with more seriousness and you smiled.

“Good. Because neither am I” you explained and, after a while, you got talking about more entertaining topics like books, music and even art.

Just like you, he was obsessed with literature and theatrics. He loved music and music was what you talked about the most. You learned that he had children and you told him about having migrated to Ireland from the US.

Talking with Cillian was fun. He seemed educated and very smart. He was funny too and, after about three drinks and endless conversations, you ended up asking about his age. You were curious and learned that he was in his mid-forties but, when he asked you about your age, you lied.

“I am 29” you said, making yourself a whooping six years older than you actually were.

“Really? 29?” he asked over yet another drink and you nodded shyly.

“Yes. Why?” you asked and he smiled.

“You look much younger” he admitted and you bit your tongue. You knew that lying was wrong but you also knew that, if you had told him your real age, the night may have ended right then and there. There was no way he would have been interested in you if he knew that you were half his age.

In the end, he believed you and, within the next half an hour or so, you were both up to your fourth drink and this is when Cillian glanced into your eyes and saw some uncertainty laced with a heavy dosing of lust.

But lust, you saw in his eyes as well and it did not take him long to close the last inch of air in between you and felt you jump at the contact.

“Do you want to go somewhere else? Maybe somewhere a little quieter?” he then asked after almost two hours of talking and drinking, which, really, turned out to be exactly what you were waiting for. He had never done this before but also knew that he had nothing to lose. He wanted to take his chances with you and knew that it would, possibly, lead to more.

“Yes. Sure. Where do you want to go?” you then stammered as his eyes just dropped to your mouth again before, slowly, he leaned in, his lips just millimetres from yours now without touching them yet.

“Where do you live?” he then asked carefully, almost whispering the words into your ear and thereby testing the waters, but you knew that you could not have taken him home with you as you were living with your friend in a tiny studio apartment.

“Darndale, but my place is being renovated at the moment” you lied again. “How about you?” you then asked and he smiled.

“Not far from here” he told you with a hint of reluctance as well and, when you suggested for him to show you his place, he nodded carefully.

“Okay. Yes. Let’s get a taxi?” he asked and, once again you smiled and gave him a reluctant nod.

***

After you got into the taxi and Cillian gave the taxi-driver his address, it did not take you both very long before you finally started to make out.

The sexual tension that had built up between you was unreal and, just as you sat there, next to this stranger, like a shy little girl, his hand came to caress your leg as if this was the most normal thing to do.

He had a certainty about him which both intrigued and aroused you and, just as his fingers traced over your skin, he could feel you trembling.

As your tainted breath became shaky, Cillian leaned towards you, this time to taste the remnants of the liquor from your lips, and you let him.

His actions caught you by surprise but you gave into the kiss nonetheless. It felt good, incredible, and passionate.

After kissing your lips for a few minutes in the back of the taxi, Cillian then leaned down further and helped himself to the delicate skin along your neck. He kissed and licked and sucked at the sensitive skin until you were writhing and making impatient little sounds from your throat. He then buried one hand into your hair and attacked your mouth again, capturing those rosy red lips with his ow.

His tongue soon demanded entrance and you were in no position to refuse. Your hands grasped at Cillian’s body as you gave into the onslaught of his tongue, darting in and out, teasing and caressing until both of you were breathless. Cillian’s mouth tasted sweet and yet bitter, the liquor still lingering on his lips. It tasted so good and you wanted more.

You were moaning freely against his mouth, your hands taking on a life of their own to roam across his back which is when Cillian broke the kiss and flirting time was over.

The taxi pulled up in front of his apartment building and you stepped out together and walked through the lobby.

***

The building itself was much fancier than what you were used to and, after less than a minute, you arrived at the elevator and Cillian pushed the button. Your heart was beating fast in your chest now and, just as you waited, you turned towards Cillian and pressed your lips against his again.

Without reluctance, he deepened the kiss and began to gently probe your mouth with his tongue. His hands roamed your body, caressing and kneading and you pulled yourself up against him feeling the length of him against your leg.

It was almost like the beast within you both had been unleashed at the same time and, when the elevator's bell chimed and the doors opened wide, you both stumbled into his penthouse.

His hands were on you in an instant again and the erotic sensation of this man’s touch alone sent a quiver through your body. He was so much older than you and, yet, you kissed and caressed each other like two teenagers in heat.

“I never…you know” you stammered nervously as Cillian’s hands were everywhere as you somehow managed to find your way in to his bedroom within mere seconds.  

“You never had a one-night stand?” he asked just as you found yourself being pinned against the wall in the heat of the moment.

“No. Never” you responded, knowing very well that this was all this was going to be. A one-night stand. Nothing more and nothing less. That was what you both wanted and he made sure for you to know that before he took you upstairs.

“Do you want to stop?” he thus asked gently but you shook your head. You did not want him to stop. He made you feel good. Too good.

‘No’ you whispered eventually as you moaned with lust when his lips connected with yours again and you swung your arms around his neck, tugging on his curls.

You kissed and then caressed each other while you began to grind yourself against him, feeling the length of his hard cock through the denim of the jeans.

“Fuck. You are something else. Simply stunning” Cillian then whispered into your ear after nibbling on it gently, eliciting another loud moan from you.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this kind of thing before?” he then teased and you shyly shook your head.

‘No, but I want to. I want you to fuck me. Right now” you whispered, running your hand over his crotch and it was becoming way too difficult for Cillian to control himself now. He wanted you as much as you wanted him.

‘Good. Because I am unable to hold back much longer’ he then said before spinning you around, which is when, finally, you got a good look at where you would be experiencing your first time with anyone but James.

To your surprise, Cillian’s bed looked like something out of a magazine with a white comforter and an abundance of pillows resting against a large wooden headboard that arched backward toward the wall. Lamps on either side of the bed cast a warm yellow light around the room, making the entire space feel soft.

Just as you looked at it, the blue-eyed stranger came up behind you, kissing your neck and whispering into your ear again “let me take this off for you”

The man’s hands then went to the back of your dress where he released the zipper and, just as he did, you pushed the fabric to the floor and stepped out of it before kicking off your shoes. You were now undressed, wearing nothing more than a pair of black lace panties, and then, when you turned around to face this much older man again, his eyes went straight to your naked breasts.

‘Fuck, they are perfect’ he said almost inadvertently as he caressed your firm flesh before, finally, pulling each of your nipples slightly.

‘They aren’t too bad’ you giggled as his hands massaged your firm numbs before they wandered deeper and deeper until he made contact with your lace covered core.

“Lay down for me” he then ordered as your breathing increased with the sudden flash of heat radiating from both of your bodies. You could feel his eyes on your breasts still as you complied with his request and climbed on the bed.

“As you wish” you stammered nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t realise how inexperienced you truly were. You had only had sex with one man before and you most certainly were not in your late twenties, which is what you had told him earlier that night.

As you laid there though, you watched as the handsome stranger began to undress himself as well and, when his shirt finally came off, you could see his pale freckled skin which aroused you. His chest was covered with a patch of hair, some brown and some grey, matching the grey streaks of hair on his head. Then, there was also some hair which traced downwards from his belly button and you could not wait to see more.

‘You are fucking perfect’ the stranger told you as you looked at him with lust and hunger and, just as you thought you couldn’t get any more excited, he pushed down his briefs and revealed his raging erection to you which was glistening with precum already.

It stood up proudly and you realised that, unlike you, he was comfortable with being completely naked like this. He was bigger than James which, too, aroused you but also made you blush and panic a little.

You starred, and starred and still starred at his cock when he finally joined you on bed with a sleek smile on his face.

As soon as he landed on bed with you, his lips connected with yours again but, this time around, there was some more force and urgency to his kisses. He demanded you to part your lips and you complied, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth just far enough to touch yours.

He flicked it up and down quickly while pulling himself further into your core which, ultimately, pushed you onto the back of the bed.

Despite the heat and passion, the stranger remained rather calm and you loved that and hated it at the same time. You could not help but want to speed him up as you could already feel your heart pounding rapidly and vibrating through your chest. But he clearly had experience and knew not to rush it even despite the fact that you were both slightly drunk.

“Your lips are perfect. So soft and sweet. I could kiss you all night” the man then marvelled and you smiled as no one had ever kissed you like this, not even your boyfriend.

“You should. You are incredibly good at this” you stammered and then you shivered again as you felt his fingertips squeeze your hips.

“At what?” he asked just after you sucked his bottom lip between yours and grazed your teeth as deep as they would naturally go. You felt his jaw clench. In fact, you felt every muscle in his body tensing and then tensing more.

“At kissing me. In fact, I don’t think anyone else has ever kissed me like this before” you said shyly as your ankles were now locked behind the stranger’s knees and you didn’t remember consciously placing them there but, then again, you didn’t remember consciously doing anything since the moment you kissed him.

“That’s good. Then, perhaps I should kiss more than just your lips, shouldn’t I?” he then teased and, immediately, your hand pulled him by the nape of his neck further, right back against your mouth.

“You should kiss every part of my body” you confirmed and the stranger groaned against your lips with pleasure before moving his hands from your hips down your thigh tusking as much pressure as he could manage before he spread his fingers out as he journeyed just as ferociously back up.

“Every part you say?” he then teased as you tilted your head back, closing your eyes and using your sense of touch to the full while inhaling his scent.

“Yes, every part” you moaned and he looked up, seeing your soft closed eyes and plump lips in ecstasy and his view trailed down your neck and between your breasts.

“Very well then” he said as his hands slid around your back and he gripped the small of your back with his powerful fingertips.

The stranger soon felt you shiver and let his tongue slid up from the centre of your collar bone to the centre of your throat where he felt you suddenly gulp.

He sure was good at this, good at teasing you and he knew it too as he had a slight chuckle at your reaction to his touch and kisses.

You moaned loudly as he kissed you everywhere, which was something that sent shivers down his spine and yours. At same time, in between his assault on your tender skin, you smiled against his, trailing kisses over his throat and to his ear.

Lips and hands were everywhere now and his hands pressed firmly against your skin as he explored your body. He started at your thighs and pressed into your tight belly. He completely encased your rib cage with his large hands before lightening his touch as he began to caress your breasts.

‘Please don’t stop’ you moaned as, finally, the stranger hoovered over you and you were laying under him.

He then made it priority to grab your face with both hands and hold you in the longest, hottest kiss he knew you would ever have. He kissed down your neck and you used your strength in your arms and legs to press yourself up into his mouth until, finally, he let his tongue flick over one of your nipples.

‘God yes’ you moaned.  It was too much for you to try and keep your hands from his body and you fought to keep your hands from trembling at the least as you streamed your fingers through his hair and made a request by tugging him further into your breast. He complied willingly, for a moment but was soon lost over your long flat stomach that he could feel quiver under his tongue. It was unlike anything else you had ever felt before and he hasn’t even gotten to your sex yet.

"What are you going to do to me?” you moaned and this stranger well and truly adored how nervous you were and how much you wanted him at the same time. You were a quivering mess and his lips and fingers did not relent.

‘Well, hopefully, I am going to make you cum” he mused, making you realise that, indeed, he knew very well what he was doing to you and your body, playing it like an instrument and tuning it to his will.

‘With, uhm…what…?” you huffed out as you could barely focus your eyes as you looked down at him just as his hands melted into your panties and lifted you up by the ass in order to take them off.

“I want to taste you and make you cum with my mouth” he clarified as his face was so close to your aching core and you gave up trying to watch him when your vision blurred from the throbbing heat wave through your body.

When this handsome stranger finally pulled down your lace panties, you heard a high pitched squeal that, a moment later, you realised came from your clenched teeth.

‘Fuck, you are perfect everywhere, aren’t you?’ he then said with a low and dark voice while glancing at your aching pussy before, with the width of his shoulders, he pushed your knees apart, opening you wide for him as he kissed you just above your core, causing you to moan.  

‘You are so wet already. I can see it’ he then said and you shuddered at his hot breath against your pussy and soon felt his fingers join in, running gently over your soaking mound.  

“Oh god. Please” you then, finally, shouted, a gasp and yell all wrapped up together, as his wet tongue lapped at you, long steady strokes over your entire wetness while he held your lips open with two of his fingers.

‘That feels so good’ you moaned as his tongue circled around your clit, flicking at it, then returned lower to slide inside you as far as he could go, then back up again to your clit.

Your hips involuntarily started pushing up against him and it wasn’t long until the feeling of him pleasing you like this became too much for you to bear. Trying to hold back, you shifted and squirmed beneath him and an involuntary scream escaped you.

‘It’s too much” you moaned as he used his hands to spread you open even wider while circling your clit. No one had ever pleasured you like this before and you bucked, writhing against him as his tongue ran over it.

“I can’t, you need to stop, oh my god please” you fought with yourself, denying yourself what you craved the most. You could cum right then and there, explode against Cillian’s lips with desire, but it felt too heavenly and too intense. You did not know if you could withstand it, feeling overstimulated already.

“You can” the stranger whispered while pressing two of his fingers inside of you, pushing them right up against your g-spot as he watched you arch your back and cling on to the sheets.

“Please. I can’t…” you screamed out, moaning, your legs quivering.

“Yes, you can” he repeated with a sly smile before continuing his onslaught on your sex.

‘Fuck, oh god” you screamed again, still trying to fight your own release which felt too intense and too surreal.

“Give in to it and let me give you what you need" the stranger then told you and, with that, you knew that he wouldn’t stop until you came. So, you decided to let go for him even if that meant that you may make a fool of yourself.

As his mouth returned to your mound and his tongue kept on at you, you felt yourself climbing and climbing and climbing towards the unfamiliar feeling. And, when he finally sucked your clit into his mouth again, you were sent over the edge.

‘Fuck! Oh god! Cillian’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you and your legs began to quiver. Your body shook uncontrollably and your hands came flying down, getting caught in the stranger’s hair, pressing him against your sex before pulling him away again.

“Enough! Please” you choked as he wouldn’t relent and continued to suck and lick until you slowly calmed down.

‘See, I told you, you could do it’ the man then chuckled and you could not help but laugh and cry all at the same time.

‘Fuck’ you gasped. ‘I didn’t expect to cum like this” you stammered nervously, causing the stranger to smile and look at you with both, admiration and confusion.

‘Then what did you expect?’ he teased before he moved up and kissed your lips hard, making you taste yourself on his lips.

‘Not sure, actually. I just never had an orgasm from oral sex before’ you stammered nervously after he pulled away from you and used his palms to spread your lips.

‘Really?’ he asked, adoring your shyness and you nodded before moving your hand to his cock.

“Really” you said while stroking his cock, eliciting soft moans from him. “But I still need you inside of me. I want to feel you” you then told him while he positioned himself between your legs.

“Do you have condoms?” Cillian then asked, seeing that he was entirely unprepared for this.

‘No, but I am on the pill” you said nervously, knowing that things were about to become real. He was going to slide into you and you were nervous about it for some reason.

‘Good’ he responded. ‘I can’t wait to feel you’ Cillian then said as he ran his hands up the inside of your thighs, sliding them toward your pussy before using his fingers to spread your labia slowly and gently, dipping his index finger inside to cover it in your slippery juices again.

‘Please. Stop teasing” you moaned as Cillian moved the tip of his finger upward to find your clit, which had grown under the excitement and was now protruding from the protection of its hood. The sweet smell of sex filled his nostrils as he made small, slow circles with his finger.

‘So impatient aren’t we’ Cillian teased while angling his length downward to touch its head against the lips of your pussy. It was like a drug to watch himself rubbing against you, coating the head of his penis in a sheen of your slippery wetness.

‘Yes, please. I want your cock inside of me’ you begged again as you thrust with your hips forward, wanting him to penetrate you and, after a little more teasing, so he did.

“Like this?” Cillian teased as, slowly, but surely, he entered you and you moaned at the sensation.

“Oh god yes, fuck” you cried as he stretched you and began thrusting in and out of you almost right away after you pushed yourself against him.

‘God you are so tight’ Cillian groaned as he watched himself slide into and back out of your pussy. His cock was shiny, coated with your natural lubrication as he began to fuck you and, soon, his thrusts became harder and faster.

‘I feel so full…This feels so good…’ you moaned as ecstasy came in quick hot waves as the stranger pumped into you and you began to moan louder than before. You experienced an uncontrollable urge to howl that you could barely hold back and the stranger then suddenly gripped you as tightly as he could manage.

You both used every muscle in your bodies to create one living, writhing creature rather than two. Eventually, you cried out too loudly though and the man took you with the deepest most passionate kiss he ever possessed as you spiralled into a lazy heap.

‘You are taking my cock so well…’ the stranger groaned after a while and then he lifted upward, prompting you to raise your knees off the bed.

‘Fuck’ he continued on as he pressed into you again and you lifted your legs completely in to the air. He grabbed your ankles and held them in the air above his shoulders, continuing to thrust with the same speed and energy as before. Bringing your feet closer together increased the tightness for both of them. Spreading your legs apart gave him the entire view of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy and provided more stimulation for your clit which is when, without warning, you came hard.

‘Oh my fucking god’ you screamed and, as the muscles in your pussy tightened around his cock, the handsome stranger slowed his thrusts leaving himself almost all the way inside you. You let out a long, loud moan again and then bent your knees and pressed them tightly together, with your whole-body quivering.

He kept his swollen cock deep inside your as he felt the muscles inside your pussy squeeze him tight. He could feel several distinct strong squeezes amidst the overall tightness. Then you gradually softened before going completely loose. He rubbed your upper arms finding that they had exploded in goosebumps. He pressed his body forward as you relaxed your knees, sliding to lay himself on top of you. He kissed you first on the mouth and then on the sides of your neck, just under your ears.

‘You look so sexy when you cum’ he then said as, over the next few minutes, he mapped out a field of kisses across your neck and collar bone. He placed his kisses like stepping-stones in a slow, connected, but wandering path. Passionate. Loving. His erection was holding strong inside your warm pussy, but he hadn't moved his hips at all and you began to kiss him back, first slowly, then more rapidly. He felt your knees lift off the bed as you slid your hands down his back, grabbing his butt. Even though he was still completely inserted, you pulled him tight against you. You were ready for more.

“Can you cum again for me?” he then asked but you weren’t sure. You never came more than once, so you doubted your ability to cum a third time.

‘I don’t know’ you admitted, but the stranger smiled.

‘Well, we will see, won’t we?’ he teased before pulling out of you after all

"I want to fuck you from behind. Common” he then said as he sat up on his knees and you rolled over and positioned yourself on all fours.

His cock had softened slightly while you had stopped fucking, but it was now back to being fully erect. He watched the tip bounce slightly as it pulsed in time with his heartbeat. It looked and felt thicker than usual.

‘Fuck, look at this pussy of yours. You are soaking’ he groaned as he put his cock in his hand and positioned himself behind you. He angled himself downward to meet your inviting pussy and then he pushed in, with one single thrust.

He felt as though he was able to penetrate you more deeply in this position and, with each consequent thrust forward, you shrieked as the tip of his cock hit your cervix.

Your bones seemed to ache from the feeling of his stomach muscles clenching hard against your back as he rutted into you. You pushed your ass back against him, and you found your rhythm, bodies slapping, panting and grunting in the dim light of his bedroom.

The pleasure was overwhelming and, every time you were about to cum, he teased you and slowed his movements.

You had both hit a plateau where everything seemed sensational but you could not last much longer.

"Fuck me hard. I want to cum again” you gasped and so he did. You requesting him to fuck your harder had provided that extra bit of stimulation that was ultimately too much. In an instant, he shifted from feeling like he could last forever and was now into impending orgasm countdown. He wanted to hold off long enough for you to cum together, and he was suddenly very close. But so were you. Again.

“Fuck, you feel so good” he groaned as he spread his knees a bit wider so he would be lower, and his angle of penetration would rub closer to your clit.

“I am so close again” you then moaned as he also shortened his thrusts so the head of his cock would come completely out of your pussy and then only go about half-way back in. He let go of your hips and bent over to cup your breasts while kissing your back.

‘Then let go for me’ he groaned as he, too, was about to explode and raised his torso back up and pulled himself completely out of your pussy.

The air of the room felt cold against his cock compared to the heat from inside you. He used his hand to rub the swollen head of his cock up and down against your pussy lips teasing you, but you pushed backwards and engulfed him again.  

"Fuck me hard," you repeated, almost yelling.

"What's that? You want me to fuck you hard?" he asked, pulling out again.

"Yes," You answered with a moaning voice. "Please."

"With this?" he asked, tapping the head of his cock against your pussy.

"Yes. Fuck me with your cock. Hard and fast” you gasped and, with that, he roughly pushed back into your wetness, spearing you on as your mind bubbling orgasm overwhelmed you.

You suddenly screamed, shivered and convulsed in orgasmic bliss and it was when you fully gave into him, that Cillian reached his high as well, filling you with his warm seed.

‘Fuck, that’s it’ he groaned as he thrusted back in. His shaft began to throb and he felt himself spurt once as he thrust in, then again as he pulled back. He continued to feel pulses of his orgasm come faster than he could fuck you now but you were past it. You were at your peak and the sensations of your pussy changed again, prolonging your orgasm, as he pushed through his own load inside of you. It was a fantastically satisfying feeling. As the pulsing continued, he wondered how much cum he was leaving inside you. It felt like a lot.

‘Jesus. God. Stop please’ you moaned as it became too much and he slowed down. His cum had leaked down his shaft and was covering the entirety of his cock, your pussy and its lips, pushing out on the sides of your tight hole as he finally withdrew from you.

After he pulled out, some streaks of your combined juices poured out of your slit and onto the sheets which, for some reason, felt incredibly satisfying.

‘Now this was not how I had expected tonight to turn out’ Cillian then said as he looked down on you with even more lust after you collapsed onto the bed, still panting and with your legs spread. Seeing his achievement aroused him all over again and he took his fingers to spread the lips of your pussy apart to get a better look.

‘Me neither’ you confirmed just as Cillian pushed two fingers into you and, you couldn’t help but shriek for which he appeared delighted.

When he pulled them out, they were covered in cum and you looked at him and yourself before reaching for his hand and guiding it to your mouth.

‘Jesus, really?’ he asked surprised as you stuck out your tongue and licked his fingers clean.

‘Really. I wanted to see what you taste like’ you winked and, just as you had sucked your combined juices from his fingers, he kissed you again passionately, tasting you and himself on your lips.

‘You are in for a long night’ he then warned you and you could see that he was already hardening again which certainly surprised you for a man in his mid-forties. He was clearly eager to make the most of this one-night stand and so were you.

With that, you both rolled out of bed and made your way into the shower for round two and then returned to the bed for round three.

Round four and five then took place in the morning and, after hours of passionate sex, a lack of sleep and Cillian cooking you some breakfast, it was time for you to leave.

‘Will I see you again?’ you asked as you were about to head out of the door. You hoped that he would be giving you his number after the amazing night you had shared but, unfortunately for you, he was true to his word.

This was nothing more than a one-night stand for him. He was not interested in dating again, nor was he ready to date anyone just yet. He told you this and that, in his opinion, you were far too young for him, though he did not even know your real age yet.

You accepted his position and kissed him once more before leaving his apartment, somewhat saddened by the fact that he did not want another date with you.

All you knew about him was his first name and the fact that he was incredible in bed. You knew that you would never see him again and, with this in mind, you soon returned to your old habits.

Over the next week, while pondering on about the handsome stranger you’ve met and shared a night with, you got back together with James. Much to the dislike of your friends, you were stuck in a cycle again and could not break it. James, once again, had a hold on you and after yet another argument with him, you made your way to Drama School on Monday with some bad temper and anger.

You enrolled into a new class and rocked up late and somewhat unprepared while your two friends were already waiting for you, in the hall next to the lecture room which is where you had to sign in.

‘Guess what?’ one of them said but you were too tired and depressed to take guesses. You were up all night again, in tears, as James was keeping taps on you and this was something you did not like.

‘I am not in the mood’ you thus said while looking through your schedule.

‘We have a new teacher for our practical work and he is fucking hot’ Lorraine said, while your other friend rolled her eyes.

‘He’s not that hot’ she said, sighing while looking at you. Clearly, you were not listening.

‘God, did you even watch Peaky Blinders?’ Lorraine then asked you both without getting an answer for you.

‘No, should I have watched it?’ your other friend then asked.

‘Yes. It is a brilliant show. He is brilliant. Hot and single’ Lorraine said like an eager little schoolgirl.

‘And old’ your other friend pointed out.

‘Y/N hooked up with a mid-forty-year-old guy a week ago and she said she had the best sex ever, so don’t knock it before you have tried it, isn’t that right Y/N?’ Lorraine teased but you did not respond. You had other things on your mind until, suddenly, you saw a familiar face in the distance, talking to the principal of the drama school.

‘Y/N?’ your friend then said, nudging your shoulder but all this did was make you drop your books. Your mouth stood open, gaping, as your eyes followed the principal and her companion.

‘Y/N! What’s wrong with you? Did you see a ghost?’ Lorraine laughed and you sure did.

‘Something like that’ you said while pointing to the principal and the handsome stranger by her side.

‘That’s Cillian Murphy. He is our new prac teacher’ Lorraine giggled and then you dropped your coffee too.

‘Fuck’ you said.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[xmasterofmunsonx]

Got Your Number

Summary: You’re Steve Harrington’s older sister and after a rough and tumultuous breakup, you’re back in Hawkins, Indiana.

Pairing: harrington!reader x Eddie Munson

Author’s notes: Potential S4 SPOILERS! For all intents and purposes of this story it’s September of 1986- Eddie is 21, almost 22, reader is 23. Post season 4, and the upside down did happen but we’re pretending the ending was how we are all talking ourselves into how it actually ended, aka Eddie lives. I started this story about 6 months ago after S4 ended, got extremely sick for a few months, and have had major writer's block over this fic because I was so unhappy with the rushed feeling of it. I hated how I’d thrown random details in there because I hadn’t thought it out well enough. So we’re taking our time the second time around- so if the storyline seems familiar, it is, it’s because it’s me rewriting my own story! Enjoy my rewrite and I appreciate any and all feedback as always ❤️

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), language, drinking, mentions of past abusive relationship, possibly triggering bad mother/daughter relationship (comments about weight, looks, etc.), eventual smut/sexual relationship.

Word count: 7k+

I.

You groaned as you walked through the front door of your childhood home, the familiar smell bringing back memories of years past. Your slightly younger brother Steve had flown out to you to help you pack up and drive a moving truck to move back to Hawkins. You arrived back home to an empty house, which was nothing new to either of you. Your parents were due back from a business trip any moment now, and you actually weren’t too upset that they hadn’t arrived yet.

“You remember where your room is?” Steve joked as he plopped one of your suitcases down in the large foyer.

“Hasn’t been that long, Stevie.” You both rolled your eyes at each other and you grabbed the suitcase from him and traipsed upstairs.

Your room had looked the same since high school, the floral wallpaper only dulled over the last five years. You hadn’t been home much since you graduated in ‘82- you had moved away to the University of Chicago and graduated with your high school (not-so) sweetheart Charlie, who quickly became (even more of) a controlling, toxic boyfriend as soon as you were alone with him in the big city. He wasn’t always so controlling of what you did- he limited your trips home to Hawkins to strictly seeing his family only, or just skipping coming home for the holidays completely because he convinced you that your school load was too much for you. Things had gotten worse over the last year as he became increasingly more abusive and violent, and you had to get the cops involved and took out a restraining order against him.

You browsed around your room, not having many moments to yourself to look around the times you had been home and smiled at some of the high school memories that still hung on the walls in frames and in photos.

“I went ahead and trashed the ones of him so you didn’t have to see him anymore.” You turned around to meet the eyes of your brother who shared the same kind eyes as you- he hadn’t always been the same either. You both were kind of jerks throughout high school but you’d heard everything Steve had gone through when he confessed it all to you back in the spring. Scars littered his face, and you felt bad you hadn’t been home for him, but you had to be careful about leaving Charlie.

“Thanks. You can just leave everything else in the moving van, I’ll get the rest of my stuff out tomorrow and we can return the van.” You smiled at him and he dropped the bags you’d packed with your essentials and favorite clothes. You had too much stuff to fly back with, and it was only a three hour drive across the states to come back home. It gave the two of you plenty of time to talk in person, and you were shocked at how well the little town had been put back together after the “earthquake.”

Steve left you alone and you were quick to unpack, wanting to make sure your room felt like yours again as quickly as it could. You had some artwork from your apartment in Chicago you were itching to hang on the walls, but you were going to wait for that until another day.

“There you are!” Your moms screeching voice echoed through your room and you greeted her with a hug- one of the first ones in a year, and quickly gave your dad one too. Neither of them were happy about you and Charlie’s split, especially since you were due to be married in December, but once you spared the details of the relationship they were understanding and welcomed you back home to get back on your feet. Your mom used to be close with Charlie’s mom, and apparently still was, so you two had bickered a few times before moving back saying she needed to understand the severity of the situation and that you were to not have any contact with his family if you could help it.

Being a Harrington had a lot tied to it. You were one of the better known families in the town- your dad was a businessman who dealt in everyone’s business in the town, so in turn everyone knew your business too. You were the pride and joy since Steve had not made good enough grades to attend a better university, but now you knew it was because he was too busy fighting in an underworld dimension similar to that of your Dungeons and Dragons days.

That’s right- you used to be a nerd. Before you were graciously accepted onto the cheerleading squad your freshman year of high school, and welcomed into Hawkins High royalty, you’d been best friends with Eddie Munson, he was a grade behind you but the two of you were inseparable since you were young. The “freak” of the town as he was known now- but you hadn’t seen him since you left, and even before that you two hadn’t spoken much unless it was your old friends, saying mean things and pretending that you didn’t care about him. Your family name pressured you into becoming what you had- a scholar, a cheerleader, and one of the queens of the school. But all of that was behind you now. You barely scraped by your last year of college because of your horrible relationship, and you were back at home living at your semi-absent parents house. You knew they were disappointed in you, but they hadn’t exactly expressed that just yet.

“Dinner should be ready by 6, I’ve just got to throw a few things together.” Your mom told you, you knew she wanted you to come down and help her but after being in a car for three hours, that was the last thing you wanted to do. She excused herself with your dad and left you alone in your room again. You hung up a few dresses in your closet and came across your old cheerleading uniform that was still hanging in the back corner, untouched and still perfectly ironed. You scoffed as you pushed it further back, hating the memories tied to the article of clothing.

“Hey, we’re all going to watch movies tonight at Eddie’s house if you wanna come. Robin’s picking out a few from the store and I said we’d grab some beer on the way.” Hearing his name stopped you in your tracks. Steve had told you Eddie had been in on the Upside Down shenanigans in the spring- told you of how he had almost died, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind that the two actually still hung out together even though Steve had mentioned it before. You felt sure Eddie wouldn’t want you there, not after how mean your friends had been to him in your four years of high school, so the suggestion made you feel odd about going over there.

“I uh- I hadn’t planned on seeing him, really. Does he know I’m back?” You pushed the empty suitcase underneath your bed and twisted a piece of brown hair around your finger nervously.

“Yeah, he knows. He seems… open to you coming over to hang out. And you need to meet and see everyone because they’re going to be your best friends too.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Pfft, who else do you have to hang out with?” You scoffed at his remark even though it was true. You had no desire to talk or see anyone from your past. Whether it was out of shame or anger, you were not really planning on rekindling any old high school friendships. Once you had some clarity of how much you had changed yourself to fit the Hawkins mold they wanted you to fit, you felt angry that you’d let your parents control that much of who you were despite how little they were actually involved in your life. “Right, so we’ll leave after dinner.” He patted your door frame twice before he trudged back to his room.

Dinner was awkward as expected, your parents were the worst at small talk and even worse at being comforting. You avoided talking about Charlie all together, thankfully, and your parents weren’t rushing you to search for a job anytime soon to give you a little bit of a break after school.

“So you’re going to the Munson’s house?” Your mom asked you with her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Robin picked out a few movies to watch like we do every Thursday.” Every Thursday? You eyed your brother and he averted his gaze to the candles in the middle of the table.

“So you see hi-them every week?”

“Week? More like every day. Those kids can’t get enough of Steve. He’s always chauffeuring them around town.” You’d heard about him and the “kids,” but you were still a little shocked to know that your brother was that good of friends with your old best friend who you were pretty sure hated you- he’d left that out.

“Always the babysitter.” Steve muttered to himself as he cleared his plate.

“Are you done yet, sweetie?” Your moms sticky voice chimed in as you looked at your food that you hadn’t yet finished, “you can come to some aerobic classes with me if you want so you can work off that college weight.”

“Yeah, I’m done.” You pushed your plate forward and got up, eating a few bites as you walked the plate to the sink. “Jesus Christ, now I remember why I hated coming home.”

“Yeah, they haven’t changed much. Don’t let it get to you. You look fine.” You knew you did, but your moms comments had always been so negative about your appearance and your weight. Steve definitely got the better metabolism of you two, and your mom tried to control your eating habits all throughout high school the best she could. Charlie was no help either, so when the two of you broke up you had sought therapy and had been working on your own eating habits since you were on your own for a few months after the breakup. It was freeing, so it was going to be hard to be under the watchful eyes of your mom again- when she was home. “C’mon, let’s grab some beer.” Steve grabbed the keys to his BMW and you followed him out, saying a quick goodbye to your parents.

“Fuck them.” You sighed as you buckled your seatbelt.

Steve agreed as he drove to the corner store and grabbed a pack of beer, driving to Eddie’s house.

“So, Eddie and Wayne’s trailer got destroyed in the uh, thing.” Steve haphazardly waved his hand in the air, “and Hawkins basically paid Eddie and Wayne to keep their mouth shut by giving them a new home.” He commented as he drove in a different direction than what you remember his old trailer being. Eddie hadn’t always lived with his uncle Wayne- his mom had died, and his dad was a felon and lost custody of him at a young age. You’d known him before he moved in with Wayne and stuck by him through all of the years he had trouble adjusting, and had grown close with Wayne since you were at their house so much.

You pulled up to a small brick house that looked much homier than the trailer they used to rent, and you could see amber lights glowing from the inside. You took a deep breath before you stepped out of the car and followed Steve to the front door, walking around a few other cars that were parked in the yard.

“He’s not mean and scary- you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re the mean and scary one to him, remember?” Like you needed reminding- your plan for the night was to blend in and remain quiet, and go as unnoticed as possible.

“HARRINGTON!” The boy’s voice was unmistakable. It was deeper than you remember, but still somehow the same. He greeted your brother with a huge hug and you were unsure of what to do, so you quietly passed by the two guys and stepped foot into the kitchen hoping someone else was in there. Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin were all standing in the kitchen with beers already, and they greeted you similarly with big hugs and smiles. You’d known them through your brother and the few times you had been “allowed” back home.

“How was the drive?” Robin asked you as she took the beer from you and put it in the fridge, but not before you grabbed one for yourself and Steve.

“Not nearly as bad as dinner with my parents.”

“Ugh, I can’t imagine being stuck in a car with Steve for three hours. Working with him for that long is bad enough.” Robin remarked and you all laughed.

“Shut it, Buckley. We work 8 hour shifts together all the time.” Steve brushed through the kitchen to grab a drink for himself and you handed him his as Eddie peered around his shoulder.

“Hey there.” Eddie wiggled his fingers at you in a wave, and you hesitated before you walked over to him to give him a small hug.

“Hey.” Was all you said as he froze before he returned the hug, matching the lightness of the embrace you gave him. You noted that he still smelled the same, except you could smell weed and cigarettes on him now that he was older, and it seemed like he’d tried to cover the smell up a little with some cologne.

“So, I got a few different movie genres for us tonight, come on!” Robin broke the awkwardness and you jumped back from Eddie, avoiding his gaze and followed Robin into the living room where the rest of the kids were already lounging waiting for your arrival. You were introduced to everyone, a few you recognized and a few you didn’t. There was a large age gap, but you knew all their names from Steve’s storytelling, and a few from their faces when you’d been back home briefly.

You felt the tension in the air as you watched the people file into what you assumed were their normal seats until all that was left was a two seater leather chair. Eddie held out his hand for you to sit, “it’s usually mine, but you can take it tonight.” You sat down in it and took a few sips of your beer and motioned for him to sit down.

“I don’t bite, you can sit too.” You continued sipping your beer as the kids sorted through movies and finally decided on a horror film, and Eddie made himself comfortable beside you. You noticed he had tattoos and scars peering out from the sleeves of his Iron Maiden t-shirt as his arms rested comfortably at his sides beside you.

“Long time no see, Harrington.” He said as he shot you a charming smirk, and you were met with the same chocolate brown eyes as you remember from your childhood.

“Can say the same, Munson.” You brought the cold bottle up to your lips and finished off your first beer with a smirk. He grabbed the empty bottle from you and took it to the kitchen, and returned quickly with another one for you- already opened.

“Before the movie starts I’m going to step outside to partake in some real fun. You’re more than welcome to join, or you can stay inside- the choice is yours.” He invited you in his dramatic voice, and you chuckled to yourself as you followed him outside.

“Thought I smelled weed on you.” You muttered as you stepped out onto the back porch.

“Oh, you smoke now?” He smirked as he lit a joint and took a big hit before passing it to you.

You inhaled the weed into your lungs and held it there before you could even think of something to say to him. Do you apologize? Shoot the shit with him? You literally hadn’t spoken a kind word to him since freshman year, so this felt painfully uncomfortable for you to be out here. You were quickly regretting your decision to follow him.

“Yeaaaah.” You took another hit and held it in before passing it back to him. You watched as he propped himself against the porch railing and looked at you with his eyelids hooded, “Eddie, I don’t even know where to start.”

He held his hands out beside him, “I got all night to listen.”

“You’d want to?” You were shocked.

“I mean, I do believe- if I remember correctly, you owe me a bunch of apologies.” He seemed like he was unphased by your presence. You felt more intimidated by him than anything.

“Ha, yeah.” You sat down in one of the porch chairs, “Just so you know, first off, I’m really sorry for how much of a bitch I was to you.”

“Go on.” He motioned to you as he sipped his beer with a proud smirk on his face.

“And I totally understand if you hate me.”

“Well, I don’t, so…” He said through a chuckle.

“I don’t know what got into me in high school. I let myself be bullied into being a bully and I hate that you were one of the targets. You didn’t deserve that. I realized I was being who everyone else wanted me to be and not who I really was, and lost the people that actually cared about me the most. All of those friends were so fucking fake to me- and would you believe Charlie came home on a ‘work trip’ and cheated on me with Grace of all people?”

“I sure would. What a cunt.”

You let out a groan, “I can’t believe I wasted so many years with that jerk.”

“So, what’s your plan now that you’re back?”

You shrugged as you sipped on your drink, and held a hand up to the joint being passed back to you. “I guess just see what I can find to do here with a degree.”

“You always were such a smarty pants. I finally graduated, you know?”

“Yeah, Steve told me.” You leaned back in the chair and looked up at the night sky. “He actually told me everything. Like, about-“

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that.” Eddie moved to the seat beside you, a tiny table separating you two.

“I wanted to come back, and see you and make sure you were okay but Charlie wouldn’t let me. That was kind of the end of it all. I had to push through graduation, get a new place, and get enough evidence on him to get a restraining order against him before I could get all my stuff and go. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get one when you’re with someone like him.” You let out another scoff, “sorry- you didn’t need to hear that.”

“You can still talk to me.” He kindly smiled at you and you returned one to him.

“I was really nervous about coming here tonight. Thanks for not being a jerk, like I was.”

“I mean, you definitely hurt my feelings some but I knew that wasn’t really you. Been called a lot worse than freak.”

“I can’t believe the whole town thought you were a murderer? I mean- you?”

“You’re telling me. I still don’t know how Hopper convinced everyone it was Jason and got me cleared.”

“I just feel so bad I wasn’t here for everything going on, I always knew this place was cursed. How… bad off were you?”

Without saying a word, Eddie lifted his shirt up and showed you. You could see the scars in the dim light of the moon and the porch light, and you can only imagine the pain he’d been in recovering.

“Bats did that?”

“No, fucking demobats. They were huge. Had these long crazy tails, and I thought I could fight them off to save your brother and the others some time.” Eddie’s voice was not his usual expressive tone, he was more somber and serious.

“You did though.” You pulled your feet up into your seat and looked over at Eddie adjusting his tshirt back into place.

“Yeah, and barely made it out alive. I blacked out and woke up in Hopper’s cabin in the woods. Couldn’t get real help in the hospital because I was wanted for murder still, somehow avoided infection and am left with these killer scars.”

“Pretty badass looking if you ask me.” You said, feeling the beer and weed loosening you up a little bit.

“Eh, I had to take a break from playing for a little. But we’re back at the Hideout now - we got moved to Saturday nights since we draw such a crowd now. It used to be Tuesday.”

“Yeah, I remember.” You said quickly.

“Do you?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Just because I was a jerk to you didn’t mean I didn’t know anything about you Eddie. You were my best friend. I kept some tabs on you even though I was in a different crowd. I snuck into a few shows my senior year and hung out in the back.” You blushed at the admittance. “What year was that for you? How did they even let you guys play so young?”

“We were just that good, sweetheart.” He let the nickname roll off his young so easily it caught you by surprise. Wayne used to call you that and you readjusted in your seat at Eddie using the endearing name for you.

“So you’ll be playing this Saturday?”

“Mhm. Got Hellfire Club tomorrow night at the record store.”

“What?! You still play?!”

“Still play? I’m the dungeon master. We have club every week at the record store on Friday nights. I kinda run the store now. Like, uh, that’s my job. I manage it and teach guitar lessons. Just started lessons about two months ago and my afternoons are booked solid.” He was beaming with pride and excitement when he met your eyes.

“That’s amazing. Can I come by? It’s been a while so I might just watch, but I won’t get in the way.”

“Absolutely.” He squeezed his eyebrows together. “You’re welcome Saturday night too.”

“Ah, I may be booked. Have a lot of friends to reconnect with, you know?” You both laughed at your sarcasm and let the silence become comfortable as you both looked around at the quiet piece of land Eddie’s house was on. “Thanks again for not being a jerk. I really do deserve it.”

“No, you don’t. I appreciate the apologies and I missed having you around. Steve’s not my favorite Harrington, believe it or not.”

“I still am?”

“No, your mom is.” He said with a serious expression before he busted out laughing at the shocked look on your face. “Just kidding. I’m willing to put the past aside if it means I can have my friend back. I know a lot of things are different now, but I don’t think you need to be alone right now, you could use a friend, yeah?”

“More than you know. Thank you, Eddie.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Wanna join them or just stay out here all night?”

“Honestly I wouldn’t mind staying out here if that’s alright with you.” You spoke quietly as you crossed your arms, the September chill was setting in but you were not going to ask for a blanket, and you were too comfortable to get up.

“I’ll grab us another drink and blanket and we can just stay out here? Don’t go anywhere.” He held his hands out for you to stay put and you laughed at his silliness, his welcoming personality hadn’t changed much and it was just what you needed tonight.

He returned moments later, “your blanket, my kind lady.” He draped the warm fleece over your lap and you thanked him as he opened the beer bottle for you.

You and Eddie spent two hours together talking and laughing, sharing stories and filling in puzzle pieces where your lives had gone different paths. As the night came to an end you realized you weren’t so mad about having to come back home, and you were glad your path had crossed Eddie’s once again.

-

“So, seems like you two got along pretty well last night.” Steve said as he drove you back home from dropping off the van you had rented.

“Yeah, I guess. He said he’s going to pick me up before Hellfire tonight so we can go get dinner before the game.”

“I’ve got a date tonight, so you think he can bring you back home too? I might be gone all night, who knows.”

You shrugged at your brother, “Probably so. I don’t see why that would be a problem.” You two walked into your house together, the echo of the door shutting could be heard throughout the house. Your parents had already left to go out of town on another business trip, too busy to stay back and spend any time with you - but you honestly weren’t even bothered. It was a relief to know you wouldn’t have to hear their remarks about anything.

The hours passed quickly leading up to the time when Eddie said he’d pick you up, and you heard the front door squeak open and closed again. Heavy footsteps were heard going up the stairs and you tried to pretend like you were still getting ready when Eddie knocked on your doorframe.

“Safe to come in?” He asked, pushing the door open to look inside.

“Wouldn’t matter, you’re already opening the door. Just finishing up getting ready, then I’ll be ready to go. Steve’s in his room if you wanna go talk to him.” You pointed to his room and Eddie stepped inside of your room instead.

“Nah, I’m here to see you.” He walked around your room with his hands on his hips, looking at all of your old posters and pictures that remained on the walls. All of the ones with him in them had been replaced by ones with your high school friends- the fake ones.

“I’m going to get around to taking those down. I don’t need any reminders of the past, Steve already took down the ones with Charlie.” He nodded quietly as he inspected each of them like he’d never seen them before- which, come to think of it, he probably hadn’t.

“You really changed, huh?” He said as he admired your senior prom picture with the group of varsity cheerleaders. You had worn a hot pink dress and your hair was teased to the high heavens. “You look uh, more like yourself tonight.” He motioned to your outfit- some light wash jeans and a fitted black tshirt. You had found an old black denim jacket of Steve’s so you had decided it was now yours since he decided to store it in your closet.

“Feel more like myself now too. You ready to go?” You touched up your light layer of lip gloss as you stood up from your vanity, and little to your knowledge but Eddie had to recollect his thoughts before he could answer.

“Born ready. Let’s go eat. Diner or pizza?”

“Like that’s even a question. Diner.” You said with a smile as you followed the tall boy with crazy, curly hair out of your room.

-

After you two finished your greasy burgers and fries, you walked to the old record shop. It had survived the town splitting in half, but barely, and it had been repainted black instead of the old ugly brick it used to be. Eddie unlocked the front door, turned the lights on and held his hands out to welcome you to the store.

“Welcome, welcome. If I may be of any assistance to any record purchases, I’m available for help. If not, I’m going to be in the back setting up for tonight. If any of the kids walk in, just send them back here.” You nodded as you found yourself picking through the labels of the records. They’d been nearly categorized by genre, then alphabetical order. You browsed while you heard Eddie rummaging around in the back room, and decided to go watch him.

He didn’t notice you had walked in the room, and you were all but mesmerized by the way he was neatly unpacking and setting up the game table for tonight in the spacious back room. He was talking to himself and checking things off his checklist in his mind, and you thought it was endearing how much thought he was putting into the set up. It had become a lot more complex from when the two of you had first started playing as kids.

“Like what you see?” His voice caught you off guard and you shook yourself out of your trance and walked further into the room. “Wanna join in?”

You shook your head as you felt your ponytail bounce, “no, I’m fine just watching tonight. Maybe another time.”

“Beer’s in the fridge, grab me one too.” He asked and smiled at you as you fetched the beverages for yourselves. He was moving chairs all around, and added one to beside the one at the head of the table, “you can be assistant to the DM tonight- how’s that sound?”

“Perfect.” You sipped on the cold beer and smiled as he handed you the plan for tonight’s game, and you read over the pages containing gameplay details that you hadn’t thought about in years. You looked up from the papers to find Eddie staring at you, and it was his turn to blush- except he held eye contact with you and didn’t look away, which made you blush harder than him.

You didn’t know why Eddie was being so kind to you. He had let you back into his circle again, no questions asked and no hard feelings that you knew of.

“What?” You asked, the room was quiet and he was still staring at you.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” He shook his curly head of hair and proceeded to go to the front of the store to wait on everyone’s arrival.

One by one the kids all arrived and you were happy to see Jeff and Gareth too- they were hesitant to greet you, but one look at Eddie and they knew you weren’t there for the wrong reason.

You took your seat beside Eddie at the head of the table and listened as he told them about the new campaign they were starting tonight. You were captivated by his deep voice and his animated actions as he told the details of the storyline. He plopped back in his seat as he watched everyone around the table decide on their first move. He had one of those full face smiles on- the type that reached the crinkles in his eyes, and you realized he’d always had those, but they were much deeper now than you remembered.

“This one’s gonna be good.” He turned to you and you nodded, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just glad to be back. Feels a little weird.”

His hand patted your thigh with what felt like searing heat, and he rested it there for a few seconds, “Relax. I already told you that it’s all okay. We’re starting fresh, but not really, like we talked about last night, m’kay?” You nodded, and he lightly squeezed your thigh before releasing it and turning back to the table.

The game went on for hours, you were so entertained by the enthusiasm of the kids and Eddie, it was really a heartwarming night for you after the previous night had started off a little awkward and rocky. It honestly felt like so many years had passed.

“You seemed like you were having fun.” Eddie said as he started up his van.

“It was fun to watch again, I seriously don’t think I've played since… well, since I made the cheerleading squad for freshman year.”

“That’s a damn shame. You were always the best.”

“No way! I was only decent. I sucked at cheerleading. I only made it because my parents funded the school’s athletic programs, paving the way for me and Steve to be successful.” You joked, picking at the rips in your jeans. “Thanks for picking me up and taking me home tonight, I really appreciate it. I had fun, the record store looks amazing too.”

You watched Eddie’s face blush pink, “Not a problem. It’s uh, it’s been nice seeing you again.”

“Yeah, it has.” You looked out the window and watched as your surroundings became more familiar the closer you got to your house. The rest of the ride was silent except for Eddie’s radio playing Metallica in the background, and his thumbs drumming along to the beat of every song. When you pulled up, your driveway was empty. You had assumed Steve’s date had gone well. “You wanna come inside and hang for a bit? Steve’s on a date, my parents are on another work trip, and I’m not feeling like being alone in the big house. If you need to get home, I understand it’s late but-”

“I’ll come in. I’ve got nowhere else to be. Wayne’s working tonight.” Eddie turned the ignition off as he parked on the street in front of your house, and you waited for him to round the front before you walked in together.

“Help yourself to a beer if you want another one, dad’s got plenty in the fridge. I’m going to head upstairs and change into pajamas and I’ll be back down.” He gave you a thumbs up and you heard the fridge door rattle as you made it up to your bedroom. You changed into an old pair of shorts and oversized shirt, headed downstairs, and found Eddie had settled onto the large leather couch in the living room with the tv on. The clock read 1:30, but you weren’t feeling too tired.

“Think Steve will make it back tonight?” He asked without looking up from the screen.

“No idea. It’s still early, I don’t know what he can find to do in Hawkins this late but more power to him if he’s out there.” You said as you sat down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling a blanket over your lap. He’d settled on some movie and you were paying attention to it, when he nudged you with his beer bottle and you took it without question and had a few sips, then handed it back to him.

“What’s going on in that head?” He turned to face you and you sighed.

“Not much, honestly. I feel defeated to be back here. There isn’t much here, no offense, and I didn’t see myself ending up here again. But here I am.” You sighed again, a little anger appearing in your chest, “I’m just so mad at Charlie, you know?”

“Are you mad at Charlie, or mad at yourself?”

You shot your eyes at Eddie and gave him a look. “I-I’m mad at…him. He was a piece of shit, Eddie. Everyone warned me. Well, not everyone. But Steve did. You didn’t like him. None of the people with a single brain cell or more liked the guy. I can’t believe we were engaged.” You shivered as if you were grossed out at the thought.

“Engaged?! I didn’t know it was that serious.” He took a swig from the beer.

“I mean, I moved to Chicago for him. School was just… the excuse. I was pretty serious about him, we were supposed to get married in December but I called it off in the spring. ‘Good’ family, reputation, all that shit my mom cares about.”

“But nothing that you care about.” Eddie finished your thought.

“Bingo.” You said as you scooted closer, grabbing the beer from him. “I don’t even know what I care about anymore now that I’m out of the relationship and that shitty situation.”

“A shituation is what I like to call that.” You busted out laughing at Eddie’s joke and it felt good to let go and laugh like that. You hadn’t in a while. Well, you had last night but that was several beers in so you would’ve laughed at almost anything.

“You asked me what my plans were, what are yours?” You turned the subject around on Eddie.

He shrugged, “I hope the band takes off soon. It’s taken me a while to recover from… everything. I still haven’t really come to terms with all of it, so it’s hard to think too far into the future.”

“That’s fair.” You stole the beer and took a sip, then handed it back to him. “What about you and the ladies?”

He scoffed and threw his head back “I mean, it took me three years to finish high school, I play D&D in the breakroom of the music store weekly with kids that still go to high school, I play in a metal band, and my body is covered in scars. Doing really great for myself in that department, Harrington.”

You felt bad for asking as he finished off the beer and got up to grab another, but you genuinely had no idea. After you moved, you hadn’t heard much about Eddie so you really didn’t know. He reappeared with two more and offered one to you with raised eyebrows, and you took it. When he sat down, he was a few inches closer to you and you could feel the warmth of his legs against yours.

“Sorry, I-”

“You didn’t know. It’s okay.” He seemed to have calmed down quickly, but you still felt bad. “There’s been a few, but nothing serious. Not really much to offer here.” You wanted to say there was because you knew Eddie better than most did, but you kept your mouth shut and moved on.

“I can’t believe that there was just this whole other world below Hawkins this whole time… and none of us knew it.” You stared at the coffee table in front of you. “I wish I-”

“No, no, no. Don’t you say you wish you could’ve been here.” Eddie was getting riled up as he readjusted on the couch, “I wouldn't have wished what I saw on anyone. Especially you.”

“No, I mean, I just hate that I left here without any care. I just wish Steve would’ve told me that it was going on.”

“Probably scared you would’ve tried to come back. Harrington's love to try to be the hero, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah. So I’ve been told.” You let out a scoff as you rolled your eyes.

“Jesus, you two are so much alike.” Eddie commented and you hadn’t realized he was staring at you. “Such an attitude on both of you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You challenged him.

“Yeah.” Eddie tucked a leg under him and turned to face you, scooting even closer. “Big ole heads full of pretty hair, ego, and a whole lot of attitude that comes along with it.” He reached out to push a few pieces of hair behind your ear that had fallen out of your ponytail throughout the day, and drug his thumb across the edge of your jawline.

“But my hair is prettier, right?” You asked quietly, feeling the nerve to see what you could get away with.

“Oh, absolutely. Everything about you is prettier.” His hand lingered on your jaw and he quickly drew it back at the sound of a car door slamming shut outside. He kept his eye contact with you, as if he were timing exactly how long it would take for Steve to walk through the front door and he was spot on as he jumped back and sunk into the couch as if you two had been sitting feet apart the whole night.

“How was your night, Stevie?” He asked with a smirk as Steve shut the door.

“What are you doing here so late, Munson?” Steve asked, annoyed at the presence of his friend.

“Just keeping me company since this house is so empty. Stole a few of dad’s beers, I don’t think he’ll mind.”

He looked between the two of you before he scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I’m going to bed. ‘Night.”

“There’s that Harrington attitude we all love!” Eddie yelled up the stairs and Steve held up his middle finger in response. “I think I’ll head out now.” He announced as he stood up and stretched, his shirt rising a bit above his plaid boxers you’d already spotted a few times tonight during the game.

“See you tomorrow night?” You asked as you walked him to the door.

“Yeah? I’ll pick you up again if you want. I don’t think you want to go there by yourself. Usually Buckley and your brother show up at some point but who knows with the stick he’s got up his ass tonight if he’ll come tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. What time? I’m free…” you looked at your watch, “all day.”

“Well, some of us are contributing members to society now and have jobs so, I’ll come pick you up when I’m off at 2?” You blushed, realizing how eager you were seeming to see him. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?”

“Yeah, uh, two sounds great.” You stuttered out.

“Perfect. We have practice at Gareth’s before, I can have them move it to 3 so I can have time to get you.” Eddie seemed unphased by your nervousness, or at least he was playing it cool and not pointing it out.

“See you then, Munson.” You waved him off and watched him walk to his van.

“Later, Harrington.” He yelled out without looking back at you, just giving a wave to the air.

You shut the large wood door and collapsed your back against it, closing your eyes and sighing. “Fuck.” You were screwed. Since when did you feel like this about Eddie? How did you feel about him? Why did he make you blush, and so nervous?

“No game, big sis. No game at all.” Steve spoke from the top of the stairs.

“Oh my God, Steve. Go away!”

“You’ve got a crush. A big one. Don’t you?”

“Steve!” You yelled his name after you locked the front door and turned the lights off, Eddie’s grumbling van could no longer be heard outside. “I do not.”

“Do too. And he does too.” He pointed at the closed door, “He always has. You’re just blind.”

“What?” You felt like the air was gone from your lungs.

“Uh, yeah?” He raised his eyebrows as you walked up the stairs to your bedroom and where Steve was perched. “I read your old diaries while you were gone. There’s way too much in those about Eddie for you to not have a crush on him. And he, get a couple more beers in him and my God, the boy will not shut up about you. He was non-stop talking and asking questions about when you were gonna be back and what you would be doing and-”

“Okay, chatty Cathy. I get it. But I don’t have a crush on him.” You pushed past him and made it to your bedroom, “How was your date?”

“Not answering that until you confess your crush on Munson. Night, sis.” Steve shut his bedroom door before you could say anything and you followed suit, your hands immediately reaching to feel the blush in your cheeks.

Maybe you did. But that was fast, or was it?

[quill-firefly]

Actually, I Want My Deadbeat Dad Back (Luke Castellan-Centric Fanfic)

Taking a little break from the usual fanfics I write because this entered my brain and it must be removed otherwise I will not get a good night's sleep. This is taking elements from both PJO and Epic the Musical. I've seen a lot of Percy getting time travelled back during the Epic!Odyssey (especially since it's like a shock for him to see what Poseidon was like back then). So now I'm punting Luke to the past.

Except Hermes, while obviously still retaining his personality traits in Epic, is not bound by the ancient rules of gods not interfering so he is keeping this strange little son of his with him.

Also this is a bit of a darkfic with Wingfic AU elements because I said so. Aka, Luke and Odysseus have little wing-ears because of their relation to Hermes.

When he stabbed himself with the knife, he expected to wake in front of Charon and be banished to the fields of Asphodel. Hades, he wouldn’t be surprised if Zeus himself tossed him down into Tartarus.

What he did not expect was to wake up, half-drowned as a stranger stood over him. The man’s face was familiar, but it was mostly the wings where ears should have been that caught Luke’s attention. He coughed, forcing himself to sit up as his eyes tried to adjust to the sunlight that shone down. He looked up, his voice soft and disbelieving, “Father?”

“What?” The man moved back, a momentary heartbreak in his brown eyes. Then Luke felt the sharp end of a blade against his neck. Wouldn’t be the first he found himself at the end of a weapon today. His hands scrambled against… sand, and that was when Luke finally took in where he was.

This was not the Underworld.

He kept his face neutral, but his heart hammered quickly in his chest as he took in the beautiful island landscape. He had been in Olympus just a few moments ago… He turned back to the familiar stranger, “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” The man shot back. Luke noted that the stranger wasn’t quite keen on sharing his name first. The sword hadn’t moved any further, but he didn’t dare try to disarm the man. Something about the man’s demeanor - and the lack of information Luke had about him - showed that he probably wouldn’t hesitate to skewer Luke like pork barbecue. Then the man was kneeling next to him. It made Luke uncomfortable to see those wings - quite similar to his own, which really only meant one thing. 

“Look, you can clearly see our shared relation. Put down the sword.”

It wasn’t just the wings that gave the stranger away, but rather the mischievous glint in his eyes. Luke had enough of seeing it in the mirror and in his siblings’ gazes. The man narrowed his eyes. Standing up, the man moved his cape to the side, giving Luke a clear view of a shipwrecked boat and a couple of men staring awkwardly at him. 

Now, it has been years since Luke had indulged himself in remembering the ancient Greek heroes, but his mind was quick to give him a horrifying answer as he took in where he really was.

“No no no no no.” He could almost hear the lingering traces of the mad Titan’s laughter in his mind as his situation finally sunk in. He stood up, nearly stumbling back into the sand as he tried to get away from the stranger. Sadly, he was too slow as his arm was immediately grabbed. He could hear the man bark out something, perhaps a question? 

He tried to slow his panic, turning his gaze back up to… By the gods he could hardly accept it.

“Is this your island?”

He shook his head, wishing he was dead. “It’s not.”

—

Despite how much the fates hated him, being brought back to the past was not the worst thing that has ever happened to Luke Castellan.

Where to start?

What about his whole life being damned before he was even born?

What about his mother losing herself while he could do nothing but watch?

What about his deadbeat of a father who never once took the time to care?

What about his siblings and the rest of the Half-Bloods, left to be forgotten by their parents, sent out to die in meaningless quests for gods who would never remember their names?

Ah… and isn’t that where he keeps going back to.

Luke won’t pretend that there wasn’t a piece of him that wasn’t being selfish when he joined the forces of Kronos.

The scar of his failed quest was still fresh, the taste of his own blood still lingering on his tongue when the dreams began.

Kronos had offered him a chance to fight back against the gods, had consoled him when even his own father wouldn’t.

He had been a child. A scared and hurt child.

How could Luke have said no?

Maybe that really wasn’t the start of it, but gods know that he was always destined to fall.

Deep down, Luke knew it began even before he was born. He was but a pawn in the game of the gods - even if he had in the end decided to let go of all that pain and hurt. 

Still, the neglect doesn’t go away easily - especially now that he was kept alive by that damned Titan who clearly didn’t want him to rest.

Even so, his mind kept going back to that quest. 

That ridiculous quest for a golden apple.

What did his father even need it for?

He would never know. He failed after all.

And the scars remained with him even now, thrown so many years back into the past.

Even now…

He could still feel the emptiness at his back, the loss of the weight that once was there.

When he was younger, he used to enjoy taking long flights throughout Camp Half-Blood. 

He remembered the hours he spent with his younger siblings, carrying them in his arms as he flew.

He recalled how a younger Annabeth and Thalia would tentatively reach out, always worried that he’d shriek at them in an instinctive attempt to keep them away from his wings, only for him to curl a protective wing around both of them.

Despite how much he resented his father, Luke loved that he had inherited wings.

He loved those wings, and some nights, he could bring himself to love his father for being able to claim him in that way.

His father may have cruelly abandoned him and his mother, but unlike most of the demigods, at least he had been claimed - long before he ever set foot in Camp Half-Blood.

Then the quest.

Ladon.

Those claws.

… He used to enjoy taking long flights.

—

The rest of the Ithacan crew kept their distance, though Luke could tell they were curious about him.

It wasn’t everyday that one saw another Hermes-descendant, and as far as he could tell, he hoped to keep up that appearance. They didn’t need to know he was actually a demigod. Maybe the lack of back wings was a blessing, they wouldn’t have any clue that he wasn’t just a descendant like Odysseus.

His heart fluttered as the thought crossed his mind. 

Never in his whole mortal life would he have expected nor wanted to meet any of the ancient Grecian heroes.

Just another joke from the Fates.

Fuck, what was his life?

He watched as the infamous King of Ithaca paced the island, a heavy sadness on the man’s shoulders. Luke must have just arrived after the great loss of the man’s crew to Poseidon.

Funny how they shared that similarity… being screwed over by a child of Poseidon. 

Though, Luke felt prideful enough to believe that he wouldn’t have yelled his name out like Odysseus did.

If the lost king wasn’t stressed about their predicament, Luke was sure he’d be under heavy interrogation - but after his admittance that they were on Circe’s island (because at this point Luke didn’t give a damn about accidentally ruining the past considering his own predicament), Odysseus was strangely silent. He was thinking of a plan. Luke knew how quick-witted the Grecian hero had been.

The man had sent a few of his men away, further into the island. Now, he was thinking of his next move.

Luke didn’t really care enough to warn him about what was going to happen.

As if right on cue, one of the men that Odysseus had sent stumbled out of the forest. Odysseus had reached out for him immediately, holding him by the arms as he demanded where the rest of the crew were.

Pigs. They were currently pigs.

Luke would have laughed, but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He was already on thin ice for being a stranger that somehow washed-up on this island at the same time as them (Luke was not about to explain that he was from the future).

At least Odysseus hadn’t called him out on his lie. He didn’t even call Luke out when he lied about his name.

He should probably thank his father that Odysseus probably took pity on him since they were of kin, but right now Luke didn’t want to invoke Hermes’ name - not when he didn’t know what his father was like in the past.

Instead, he leaned back against a tree as he watched Odysseus have a quick argument with the man. Then they were both rushing into the forest, the other man trying to stop the king from entering any further.

As he watched them disappear into the trees, his eyes following after them, Luke couldn’t help but feel as though something in the foliage was staring back.

His back burned.

—

“Hello, little bird. That was a silly stunt that you pulled.”

This was Tartarus. Kronos sent him to Tartarus.

Luke clawed at the god’s arms, his wing-ears flapping frantically as he tried to escape his father’s tight embrace. 

Why couldn’t he have had this when he was a child?

Even if he had sacrificed his life, Luke had no love for his father. At least, none that he wanted to give anymore.

As the god kept him from escaping, his eyes met Odysseus’. 

He knew the story. 

He knew what Odysseus had done to get home.

Still, Luke felt betrayed.

“Thank you, darling. Here’s the moly.” With his face pressed against Hermes’ chest, Luke could feel the crackle of divine energy - and it scared him. Even the arms that caged him held all the power that the gods wielded.

This was not the father he knew.

His father pretended to be a mailman.

He rarely showed his divine self.

He watched as Odysseus reached out for the plant, refusing to meet Luke’s gaze.

This wasn’t how the story goes. Hermes assisted Odysseus for… Hades, Luke didn’t know. Hermes helped because why not?

So why was he suddenly a bargaining chip?!

“Let go of me!” Even as the arms continued to tighten, Luke did his best to flail out of the god’s embrace, his wing-ears flapping fitfully. “Don’t touch me!”

“Oh you know how demigods are, darling! Stubborn and reckless. Little Loukanos here has hit quite the rebellious phase. Scared me when I returned to my palace to find him missing. Little bird tossed himself right out into the sea. Can you imagine it?” The god laughed, and Luke wished he had continued his war with the gods.

The audacity!

Hermes was lying, and they all knew it.

Odysseus knew it.

“Hermes… thank you.” The king said softly, a hint of guilt and hesitation in his voice. Luke felt somewhat vindicated at least that Odysseus felt some semblance of regret. Not that he would save him, but it was the thought that counted.

“Don’t thank me, friend. You very well may die.” There was an amused smile in the god’s tone, and Luke shivered. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard such blatant carelessness in his father’s voice.

“Good luck!” 

He heard faltering footsteps, and soon there was nothing but silence.

It was just him and this version of his father now.

Those arms eased around him, but Luke wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he was free. Hands gripped the back of his shirt, as if the god was searching. He dared to look up, scared of those irisless eyes. The Hermes of the future had the same blue eyes as Luke’s.

He really didn’t know this version of his father.

“Now that dear Odysseus is gone, you and I should have some father-son time, hm?”

The god’s smile was strained.

“Let’s talk.”

The god leaned down, his mouth close to Luke’s wing-ear.

“Tell me, little bird, where are your wings?”

—

As a father, Odysseus would do anything to protect his son.

The thought doesn’t ease his guilt, even though a part of him knew that this was the right choice.

He knew his men were in danger, but he spared a single glance back to where he had left Loukanos with Hermes.

When he had first seen the young man, Odysseus had been surprised to find a fellow Hermes-kin. Then Loukanos had opened his eyes, and he’d called him father.

The “father” had taken him aback, but mostly it was the haunted look in the boy’s eyes that scared him.

Odysseus knew war.

He saw it in the eyes of his crew.

He saw it on his own.

His only hope is that he would never have to see that same look in his own son’s eyes.

Really, it was for the best that he left Loukanos with Hermes. He didn’t know where the boy had come from and Odysseus had enough men to worry about. He couldn’t take Loukanos with them once they left the island.

Besides, Hermes had said that the boy was his son who had escaped from Olympus.

Nevermind that Odysseus knew the god had lied.

Nevermind that as far as Odysseus was aware, his own grandfather - a son of Hermes - had never mentioned anything about Hermes keeping any of his children on Olympus.

Nevermind that Loukanos had looked terrified when Hermes had forcefully dragged him into his arms.

Odysseus had tried to think of another way, any other plan that didn’t require such a sacrifice.

But Hermes had flashed those irisless white eyes at him, a daring grin on the god’s face. 

Try it, King of Ithaca. I dare you.

He needed the moly. 

He needed to save his crew. 

He needed to get home.

He needed to see Penelope and his own son.

Odysseus could only hope that Hermes would have no ill-intent towards Loukanos. After all, Hermes was a father himself. Surely he only had the best intentions for his son.

He could just delude himself that Loukanos was some spoiled demigod. There were plenty of spoiled royals. He’d had the displeasure of meeting them himself. Loukanos was probably just one of those.

Even if the boy had refused the embrace, Odysseus had seen how much Hermes had been so happy to hold Loukanos in his arms. How he refused to let go.

Odysseus would trade the world to have his family in his arms.

What did Telemachus even look like? 

Had he gained the same wings that most Hermes-kin had?

Odysseus felt his wing-ears twitch, the heartbreak nearly consuming him as he thought of his son.

What he would give to be like Hermes right now.

He shook his head, grasping the moly tightly in his fist. It was a worthwhile deal. He couldn’t regret it.

He had a crew to save.

He had a kingdom to return to.

And he had his own family to think about.

Loukanos will be fine.

—

Luke was not fine.

“I don’t remember siring you.” There was a hand on his chin, tilting his face as the god observed the scar on his face, tracing it with clawed fingers. 

Luke would have given anything to have the future version of Hermes. His actual father knew how to pretend to be human. This Hermes had no such reasons to play pretend.

“But I look at you and I feel a great sense of loss.” The god’s voice turned into a soft croon. “I look at you and feel as though I have a mortal heart to break.”

“...Right.” Luke tried to take a step back, cursing the Fates as he remembered that he had been cornered into a tree. “Like you said, ‘as though you have a mortal heart,’ don’t worry about it too much. Just let me go and we can pretend—”

“I don’t even know your name, little bird.” Hermes’ other hand gripped his arm, keeping him from darting sideways. 

Luke wished Kronos had teleported the knife with him. Sure, Luke didn’t want to fuck around and find out if he tried to stab this Hermes, but it would have been better than being defenseless.

“It’s Loukanos—”

The grip on his chin tightened, and the god’s eyes glowed briefly.

“Don’t lie.”

He took a breath, trying to stop the erratic beating of his heart. “It’s Luke. Luke Castellan.”

Hermes frowned, relinquishing his grip. “Luke Castellan of…?”

He wracked his mind for an answer, but anything he said would have been seen as a lie. Weakly, he mumbled out, “...Of Connecticut?”

“Of what?” Now it was the god’s turn to be confused. Luke took the opportunity to quickly dart past his father’s arm, trying to put as much of a distance between him and the god.

He had barely made it a few steps before the god was on him. He covered his face as he landed on the ground with a huff. He could feel the end of Hermes’ caduceus at his lower back, keeping him from crawling away.

“Your words don’t register as a lie, little bird. But I can’t quite recall a place known as… Kanetikut? Ah, and I don’t think I remember which mortal woman you come from—”

“Of course you don’t. Typical of you not to remember mom.” Obviously past Hermes wouldn’t know Luke’s mom yet, but the comment enraged him.

“...You have a lot of anger towards me, little bird.” He felt the weight of the caduceus lift, and Luke scrambled back to his feet. At least this time, the god didn’t follow after him. Instead, he was staring at Luke with birdlike curiosity, as though he were a shiny trinket. “You dress strangely too. There’s something very odd going on here, little bird. Where are you from, really?”

“Like I’d ever tell you.” He scoffed before rolling his eyes. “The only place I should be in right now is the Underworld. So, do your job and drop me off.”

“You don’t look dead to me, Luke.” The god grinned, but the amusement quickly dropped. “Though I suppose you feel as though you’ve died. Your poor wings—”

“And whose fault is that?” He snarled, wishing more than anything that this really was his father. He had wanted so long to ask the god why he had sent him on that quest.

Why did he even want that stupid golden apple?

“Ha! Certainly not me, darling. I didn’t even know you existed until a few minutes ago.” Hermes tutted, as if lecturing a small child. “Still, you blame me, don’t you?”

Before Luke could respond, the god was suddenly in front of him, arms pulling him into an embrace. “While it isn’t my fault, I won’t leave you to suffer alone.”

“Wha—” He screamed as the god suddenly flew upwards, carrying Luke in his arms.

The god only laughed, as if this was nothing but a game to him.

“No need to be scared, little bird. Your father has you.”

Luke nearly screamed again as the god jokingly loosened his grip. “Where are you taking me?!”

“Home, little bird.” The god smiled, “I don’t ever want to feel the loss of you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note:

So some notes.

*In the ancient times, it was more common for children of gods to display non-mortal traits. In the modern world, however, the non-mortal traits have become rare as a necessary consequence of keeping demigods from getting murked lmao. Luke just got lucky (or not) that he inherited Hermes' wings.

**As Odysseus is only a descendant and not really a direct child, he only inherited the wing-ears (though this isn't usually a guarantee and they could very well just have mortal traits - Odysseus is just lucky). For the direct children of Hermes, they always inherit both the wing-ears and the actual back wings. So yes, no flying back to Ithaca for Odysseus.

***Past Hermes could sense that Luke was a direct child and not just a descendant. While he's being very playful and stuff, he's actually freaking out that Luke is missing his wings. Also, since the gods were more hands-on in interacting with mortal lives back in ancient times, Hermes can easily just take and keep Luke. He's gonna keep this strange little son of his close by. Also also, technically it doesn't make sense but past Hermes could sort of feel that Luke was going to be a great loss to him (since in modern times, Luke was Hermes' favorite child). He feels a deep love for this son of his that he doesn't quite remember having.

[yannaryartside]

Carmy has been a victim of gaslight his whole life

gifs by @robertacolndrez

So, the definition of gaslight, according to this site, is:

 "Psychological manipulation of a person usually over an extended period of time that causes the victim to question the validity of their own thoughts, perception of reality, or memories and typically leads to confusion, loss of confidence and self-esteem, uncertainty of one's emotional or mental stability, and a dependency on the perpetrator."

According to Forbes Health, this are some of the things you experience when you are being constantly gaslighted.

Anxiety

Depression

Disorientation

Lowered self-esteem

Post-traumatic stress disorder

A hyperbolized fear of danger, known as hypervigilance

I want to zoom off that last one; remember when Carmy told in the group sharing session that he had to remember himself that the world was not falling? That he had to remember himself to breathe?

If we take "Fishes" as a basis to understand the family dynamics as they grow up (and I think we should), then we can get a pretty good idea of how much Carmy's feelings and thoughts were discredited growing up.

When he speaks up about how much shit they are giving him about his profession, Donna and Mickey attack him in the group to make them say "I love you," basically telling him that it doesn't matter that they make him feel like shit; Carmy is supposed to love them no matter what. I assume this is the answer he got every time he spoke up about boundaries being crossed, or maybe he was just so intimidated by his much larger and loud older brother or his aggressive mother. We can get traces of this trauma every time he gets insulted to his face in the show; it was so bad that it was Pete of all people who had to defend him (it is very telling that is Pete because to everyone else, insulting Carmy and him having to just take it seem to be a normal occurrence, Donna made it that way). It was the only way to keep the peace and the family functioning. Clining to the love he could take in the "good moments."

Here are some ways the most important people of his life had gaslight Carmy:

Donna seems to have a preference for Mickey over Carmy, a preference he is aware of but never understands why. Donna will throw "forks" of random aggression at Carmen, and he can never fight back. As a child, he was forced to think there was something wrong with him because that is the way a kid's mind works.

Mickey lied to him about why he cast him out and hid his addiction. Ignored Carmy's calls and then acted like Carmy (who was alone in a different city and in a very mentally aggressive industry) was making a big deal about it. Carmy wanted support, and Mickey (probably the only real parent figure he ever had) was making him feel shit about it.

gifs by @thoughtfulchaos773

When he confronted it about it, Carmy couldn't even look his brother in the face; that is how much deep down Carmy was intimidated by him. Mickey also never gave him a final answer about their dream restaurant. With time, the breach between the brothers got so big that the only call he ever received about Mickey was to inform him of his death.

gifs by @espumado

Richie, Mickey, and others started to tell him about who he should date. It seems like they still intend to make decisions for him on that front. (Fuck Fak and Richie). They knew Carmys had a crush on Claire at some point and were weaponizing his emotions; Mickey probably did it to compensate for how much of a shy brother he had been. It is possible they ver wanted Claire for themselves.

And then, you have Claire, that absolute promisse of uncomplicated love and affection. She doesn't necessarily gaslight Carmy, but she definitely has infantilized him in a couple of instances. Aka, this post.

That kind of game from Claire, suggesting to somebody else what they should think or say, is not acceptable either. When a person does that, they are aware they are doing it; it doesn't matter if they think it is harmless or not. Toxic behavior and ignoring boundaries don't stop being toxic because you have love/affection for the other person.

The fact that a victim of gaslight like Carmy is accepting this treatment, a person who had to go with what people wanted from him his whole life, feeling he had to adapt to receive love, because otherwise there was something wrong with him (Donna), makes it all worse. Carmy has associated (subconsciously) accepting insulting scenarios as part of a relationship with a loved one. With Claire, he accepts being infantilized and guided into saying the things she wants him to say. Yikes all around. I am not saying Claire is or would abuse Carmy, but this dynamic's undertone is not pretty.

I hate to end this on a shipper note, but for me, this all goes back to Sydney. Since the beginning, Syd is the only person who has established clear intentions with him and followed through with them. She does it when she says she wants something or will do something. Why does this "best friend" woman seem to have a less toxic approach to their relationship than his own girlfriend? That shit cannot be unintentional. Camy and Syd established in s2 that they could argue while recognizing their responsibility for the argument. No antagonizing, no lies, no manipulation.