#and maybe actually get to show his anger for once

[ithilien-writes]

here have some fic about it actually

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Would It? [Buck/Eddie, T, ~1k]

He keeps thinking about it, is the problem. It's like now that Tommy put the thought in his head, it just keeps bouncing around inside his skull, like the old dvd logo that used to show up when you paused a movie for too long. It's not even about Tommy though, not really. If anything, their last encounter just solidified the fact that he doesn't actually know anything about Buck. That he never cared to.

But Maddie, on the other hand.

It wouldn't be so crazy.

So it's his sister's voice, really, that's been echoing inside his head for weeks now. When he wakes up in the morning. When he gets off of a call with Eddie and Chris. When he finds something of Eddie's still mixed in with his stuff at the house. When he looks across the station loft for Eddie and finds Ravi instead.

It wouldn't be so crazy.

It makes him feel... angry, honestly. Not at Maddie, he doesn't think. But angry all the same. Because it would be crazy! It would be crazy. It would be stupid and crazy and... pathetic. Which Buck is not.

He's just pissed off.

"Well, sorry I'm not Eddie!" Ravi says, throwing his arms up when Buck snaps at him for the third time that morning about not sticking to Buck's system as they stock.

Buck feels his now constant, low-simmering anger flare up all at once, bright and hot, but before he's even managed two steps towards him, Hen is there between them, her hand on Buck's chest.

"Okay Buck, walk it off," she tells him. It's not a suggestion.

So Buck takes the stairs up to the roof three at a time and then paces under the early morning sun, quietly seething.

And that's, of course, exactly when Eddie calls him.

"I didn't expect you to pick up," Eddie's voice comes over the line, warm and soft in Buck's ear. "I would've facetimed. I thought you were on shift."

"I am," Buck says, shorter than he might have in other circumstances. "But we haven't been out on any calls yet."

There's a beat before Eddie responds, and when he does his voice is tinged with concern.

"Okay, what's going on?" he asks. "You sound- Is everything okay?"

Buck blows out a breath.

"Yeah," he says, running a hand through his hair. "Ravi was just being annoying earlier, it's fine."

Eddie snorts a little.

"Yeah, you sound fine," he says sarcastically.

"I have a system for a reason!" Buck explodes, hand coming out of his hair as he gestures frenetically, even though Eddie can't see him. "I've explained it like a hundred times by now. It's not that complicated."

"Well, it's a little complicated," Eddie disagrees with a small chuckle, his voice still warm. "Maybe give him a minute."

Buck deflates a little, stopping his pacing to lean back against the outer ledge of the rooftop. He lets out another heavy breath.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he hears himself ask, after a beat. "O-or like. Pathetic?"

"What?" Eddie's voice comes back sharp. "Did Ravi say that?"

"No, no- I just. Maddie said something to me the other day, and I- sh-she didn't mean it like that but... I can't stop thinking about it," he admits softly.

Eddie hums over the line.

"What did Maddie say?"

"Just- it doesn't matter," Buck mutters. "She was just- Tommy said something and then she was sort of agreeing with him-"

"Wait, Tommy?" Eddie cuts in. "When did you talk to Tommy?"

Buck feels himself flush, suddenly embarrassed.

"A-a few weeks ago," he says. "We just ran into each other. At a bar. It wasn't like I planned it! But I was already a little drunk by then, and he was talking about how he'd been wanting to call me, so. I don't know. We ended up... hooking up."

"Why am I just now hearing about this?" Eddie asks. "Are you getting back together?"

"No!" Buck says quickly. "No, it was nothing like that. Or well- maybe it was starting to- um. He did bring it up, I guess, after. But then he said... the thing he said. And then I said some things too, and uh, yeah. I- I doubt I'm gonna hear from him again anytime soon."

"What did he say?" Eddie asks, the edge back in his voice.

Buck makes a motion to wave away the question with his hand, as if Eddie can actually see him.

"That's not important," he says again. "The point is, I told Maddie about it, w-what he said, and she asked if he was right! A-and then when I said of course not because that would be ridiculous, she said it wouldn't be so crazy."

"Buck," Eddie says, slightly exasperated, "you know I'm gonna need a little more context here."

There's just silence then, for a few long moments.

"It just sucks," Buck manages eventually. "You being gone."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, voice slightly rougher. "It does."

Buck hears him clear his throat slightly.

"But that doesn't mean I can't still help," he says. "Come on, man. Tell me what's really going on."

Buck wonders if he knows how much it already helps, just hearing his voice.

It wouldn't be so crazy.

"Uh, I- I should go," Buck says, after a moment. "I left Ravi stocking by himself and I'm gonna have to fix everything he's done, so."

"Buck-" Eddie tries again, but Buck doesn't let him. Not this time.

"I'll call you later," he promises - lies, maybe - before hanging up.

He feels the ache in his chest - the one that's been there ever since he watched Eddie drive away - like it's suddenly pushing out against his ribcage. Something almost feral, gnawing at his bones, trying to escape.

But he can't. He can't.

"It would be. Crazy," he says aloud, stubbornly, to an audience of absolutely no one. Feels the shape of the words in his mouth. Listens to the way they sound in the early morning stillness of LA.

It's not particularly convincing.

no but seriously maddie's "it wouldn't be so crazy" is !!!!! like that's his sistermom. that's the person who knows him the best outside of eddie. and she is always so careful not to tell buck how he's feeling so she's not gonna literally say "actually i've always wondered.." but this was her basically saying exactly that!! like. that just happened. buck said he's not in love with eddie and maddie said well.. are we sure though?

[gideonnavsenormousbiceps]

getting more and more excited about the golden raven the closer 2.22 gets but also. jeremy and whatever the fuck is going on with his family hasn't really been addressed yet. excited but also scared. scarcited. feel like some stuff about his relationship with his family will be revealed and he will need to address it as much as Jean needs to confront his abuse and its ongoing effects, and will probably struggling with admitting that there's an issue as much as Jean does. anyways Jeremy as a captain takes care of everyone else, but I would love to see him take care of himself as well.

[honey-tongued-devil]

Arcane preference reacting to a s/o with a mental health issues (eating)

My disclaimer, as someone with this issue, I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted. I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while, but I was a bit cowardly about doing it, so I’m taking the opportunity now. I don’t want to go out of character, so I’m sorry if some characters come across as harsher than others. Unfortunately, I know I should write the name of the illness, but if I post it that way, Tumblr will take it down.

Jayce:

- He’s academically intelligent, but it takes him far too long to notice that something’s wrong. But you can’t blame him, it’s something so far removed from him that he couldn’t have understood it sooner.

- When he does realize, his first reaction is panic.

- Jayce can’t feel like just a blade of grass; he feels emotions deeply, taking on any blame, especially if something happens to the people he loves. His first thought is that he did something to make you feel that way, inadequate.

- But once the panic phase ends, the responsibility phase begins.

- He does the grocery shopping, he cooks, and his workouts become more regular, where he has you climb onto his back while doing push-ups or holds you in his arms during other exercises.

- He doesn’t know why you do it, but the quickest way to show you that your weight isn’t a problem is by showing you how easily he lifts you.

- And maybe, if you feel up to it, he can hold you in his arms with one arm supporting you while he cooks, letting you taste various ingredients.

Viktor:

- Unlike Jayce, it only takes two suspicious behaviors in a row for him to understand what’s happening. It’s something far from his world, sure, but he recognizes it.

- And he confronts you. He doesn’t beat around the bush, doesn’t stammer; he might even sound angry because he doesn’t understand why you’d hurt yourself like this and willingly give up your well-being.

- I won’t lie, I doubt that an open discussion about something this delicate with him wouldn’t lead to at least one hysterical cry.

- But he’s not brutal for the sake of being brutal; his suffering and frustration turn into anger. It takes him a while to calm down, but he won’t accept compromises.

- You’ll have meals together at home, either returning to your rooms together or straight to the house, so no one can see you and you won’t feel bad.

- And he won’t force you, he tries to handle it with as much care as possible, but there’s no day that goes by without him getting up from the table if you haven’t eaten at least two food items per meal.

- He loves you too much to see you hurt yourself in that way, and knowing that he can't do anything about it makes him feel powerless.

Ekko:

- It takes him a week—not to understand, but to process it.

- Having grown up in total poverty, the idea of giving up food “for whim” makes him react in a way that is only human.

- And the whole thing is too distant for him: everyone’s skin is grayish, 90% of the population of the Lanes has missing limbs and monstrous prosthetics, and everyone’s goal is to survive as long as possible. What does it mean that you’re against your own survival??

- As unsupportive as he might be regarding the issue, he becomes incredibly vigilant and concerned.

- He’ll always make sure you’re warm enough, that you’re comfortable, and no matter how frustrated he is, he’ll always try to stay close to you, even just holding you in bed until you fall asleep.

- Every single comment you make about your body, he’ll respond with, “Don’t talk about my partner like that,” 

- no one can speak badly of you, not even you.

Vander:

- The most understanding: he was young once too, and although in his size meant an advantage, he and Silco snuck into various galas when they were younger, and there, even though he never had these problems, he would feel a strange sensation seeing that he was the biggest in the room or that it was hard to find someone to steal clothes from that would fit him.

- He doesn’t lecture you or anything like that, he doesn’t get angry despite how he grew up; he just feels sadness for you that you can’t see how little that complex matters and how beautiful you already are.

- His compromise is vegetables. If you don’t feel like eating every meal every day, it doesn’t matter, but at least four days a week, you have to have three meals.

- And for the rest, he’ll cook, making sure to prepare the best dishes made from vegetables so that you don’t feel guilty and your body doesn’t deteriorate.

- But he doesn’t support your illness, he simply ensures that you get everything you need and never go below the necessary intake without having you feeling guilty about it.

Silco:

- Hoping that the most attentive and watchful man in the lanes wouldn't notice how, suddenly, meals go from moments of lightness to something you try to avoid at all costs is a bit foolish, but he says nothing.

- He waits for as long as necessary, basically to see how long it lasts and how much you're not planning to talk to him.

- When he realizes you won’t, not anytime soon, he waits for you to be alone in his office, where you’ll find a slice of cake on his desk. Sure, it’s a low blow, but it’s also the fastest way to get you to confront the issue without too many escape routes.

- He’s a big fan of the saying “dirty laundry is washed in the family,” so if you act strange about meals in front of others, he won’t allow questions or jokes, but in private, he won’t accept “no” for an answer.

- He has enough problems already without you crying from hunger pains or having psychotic episodes due to sugar deficiency, so as long as you're under his watch, under Zaun's eye, he won't let you live with unhealthy standards.

- During meals, he becomes the strictest. He doesn’t say anything, but one look is enough to make you think twice about contradicting him. In the evening, though, when your mental health is most fragile, he becomes gentler, comforting you as much as you need.

Jinx:

- You find fertile ground, but like any good bearer of the same issue: she feels she can do it, but you cannot.

- Being with her or in her space becomes like a live-action version of Thumbelina: she’ll leave sweets, chocolates, things she knows you like to encourage you to eat so you can’t hurt yourself.

- She usually forgets to eat herself when she’s caught up in her studies and work, but if she has someone to care for, it doesn’t matter how, she’ll make sure to remember. Even if it means setting a few colorful bombs with timers.

- She feeds you. In the most visible, worst way. It’s easy that if you turn your head, you’ll find a cookie shoved in your mouth unceremoniously.

- And every single tight-fitting outfit disappears from her lair. Magically, whatever clothes you pick up from her pile fit loosely, but if you ask her about it, she’ll claim she doesn’t know what are you talking about.

Vi:

- Want to see Vi in a panic, becoming super protective and possessive in a way? Just wait for one episode, and you’ll see everything you haven’t seen.

- She’ll check on you at least three times a day, and in the evening, when you have pain or a crisis, she’ll run back and forth from the room, thinking about everything she can do to help you feel better without making you feel guilty.

- During meals, she’ll hold you in her arms and insist that you eat, but not aggressively—in a way that’s almost frightened: she’s always been used to fighting big, real monsters, but even when it came to her sister, she could never defeat the invisible ones, and the fear of failing or hurting someone she loved again terrifies her in an agonizing way.

Caitlyn:

- Like Jayce, she’ll also try a more physical way of reassuring you, like body worshipping when you’re alone or working out with you to show you that your weight doesn’t matter.

- She doesn’t know how to react; she realizes it quite quickly but fears that by acknowledging it, she might only make you feel worse.

- One day, she gathers the courage to ask if everything is okay and tells you that she’s noticed those behaviors. When you open up to her, telling her about the issues, she doesn’t respond right away and simply hugs you.

- She becomes more caring, making sure that you don’t have to attend banquets or dinners where you wouldn’t feel comfortable, bringing you food in your room to eat together, and sometimes even leaving the room so as not to put pressure on you.

- When you mention a craving, she immediately springs into action to get it for you, even if you complain that you weren’t serious. Once she understands how your condition works, she orders everything in three portions, so she can eat with you and then be the first to say that she wants more, asking if you want to share the third portion.

- If you have fat accumulated in any area, she’ll knead it with her hands while kissing you, to let you know that she loves every inch of you.

Mel:

- She notices you're having a crisis before you even realize it yourself.

- She’s a ruler, but what she learned from a young age is that a leader must appear reliable and look good, so even if unconsciously, she too sometimes experiences small crises when she feels like she isn’t looking perfect.

- No conversations, no lectures, just an increase in cuddles, moments of intimacy, and later, she brings home sweets.

- “They were a gift to me today at the council,” she lies, but sometimes she says she got them for both of you.

- She doesn’t want to make you feel like you’re in the wrong.

- She knows that when you’re ready and if you want to, you’ll bring up the issue with her, but for now, the best thing she can do is help you get through the episode with euphoria, love, and treats that encourage you to listen to your hunger rather than the illness.

Sevika:

- Like everyone in Zaun, the idea that someone would voluntarily give up food is simply incomprehensible to her.

- But she won’t comment on your problems. She doesn’t intend to invalidate them, but she also won’t encourage it.

- “Are you sure? That’s a bit too little,” will be her comment when you eat something ridiculously small, before making you a proper portion of food herself. If you try to argue, she’ll respond with a smug smile, saying that if you eat that little, you’ll end up breaking when you’re in bed together.

- If a crisis is particularly bad, she’ll try to finish her work as quickly as possible to be able to stay with you for the rest of the day and not leave you alone.

- As much as possible, she’ll try to get the best, freshest, and most natural food, to reassure you that you don’t need to worry, but she’ll never insist that you eat if you say you don’t feel up to it.

- She’ll gesture for you to come sit on her lap and keep you there, occasionally offering you things she knows you like, telling you that she’s really craving them, and if you want them too, she’ll go get them.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"Slipping through my fingers"

ok yall this is an emotional one!! it expands more on reader and jason's dynamic before he died and shows why jason is an especially sore spot for reader. it's also jason who she's most vulnerable and willing to forgive.

You and Jason ate the popcorn chicken on your bed in silence. For a moment, you pretended that everything was normal again. That Jason was still just Jason and you were still just you. That he was still your big brother that meant the world to you and that you were still his baby sister who he adored and couldn't go a day without.

For a moment, jason could pretend he wasn't the Red Hood, a vigilante who struck fear even in the darkest of hearts, he could pretend he was just comforting his little sister who meant the world to him.

Jason stares at you, his eyes locked onto yours like he’s trying to burn through the walls you’ve built between you. His breathing is shallow, tight with something unspoken, something raw. He’s been holding it in, holding it all in—his guilt, his regret, his anger—but it’s all starting to crack. The cracks are sharp now, and they’re starting to bleed.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he spits, his voice gravelly, thick with the weight of what’s unsaid. “I didn’t want to become this. I didn’t want to lose you.”

You let out a bitter laugh, harsh and mocking, and you can feel the edge of your own frustration clawing at you. “Well, newsflash, Jason, you did. You lost me the moment you decided that pushing me away was the best option. You don’t get to sit there and tell me how you didn’t want to hurt me when you were the one who abandoned me without a second thought. I ran into your arms and you acted like you couldn't care less.”

His jaw tightens and you see something almost vulnerable flicker across his face. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by something darker; guilt, maybe, but also something like self-loathing.

“You think I wanted to leave? You think I wanted to hurt you?” His voice is quiet, almost deadly calm, but the tremor in his tone betrays him. “I didn’t want to drag you down, okay? I didn’t want to make you part of this... mess I’ve become. I thought if I just kept my distance, kept you away from all the shit in my life, I’d be doing you a favor. ”

“And what the hell makes you think I needed your protection, huh?” You snap back, “You think I couldn’t handle whatever shit you were going through? You think I couldn’t handle you? You never gave me the chance to help. You just shut me out, Jason. Like I was just some... some stranger. Like you weren't the closest thing I had to family. There wasn't anything I wouldn't have done for you. you were my brother. I loved Dick but he was never you.”

Jason’s eyes flash, anger mixing with the guilt, there’s an almost pleading intensity to him now. “I wasn’t protecting you,” he murmurs, voice breaking, just a little. “I was protecting myself. Because every damn time I saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I needed you. How much I wanted you in my life, and I was so fucking scared that if you stuck around, you’d see everything I was trying to hide. That you’d see how broken I really am. And you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to get caught up in my shit, in the mess I was making of myself.”

Your heart clenches at the rawness of his words, the vulnerability creeping in, uninvited and unwelcome. You want to scream at him, to tell him he’s a coward, to tell him how much it hurt, how much it still hurts. But instead, you feel a lump form in your throat, something tight, constricting. The years of silence between you, the hurt, the loneliness—it hits all at once.

“You were never a mess to me,” you say, quieter now, as if the weight of his confession is slowly wearing you down. “I knew you, Jason. I knew who you were before all this. The guy I could talk to about anything. The guy who knew me better than anyone. The one who made me feel like I actually belonged. ”

Jason’s eyes widen, his breath catching as if you’ve just hit him in the chest. “I thought about you every day, you know?” he says in a hoarse whisper, his voice trembling. “Every day. You think I didn’t miss you? I thought about those times, the way we used to be... how you would just be there. You and me against the world. I remember laughing with you. Just... sitting there, talking about stupid stuff, and it felt like we were the only two people who really got it. I missed that, more than anything.”

You feel a tightness in your chest at the words, something fragile breaking open. You remember. You remember the late nights, the quiet conversations that meant more than anything else in the world. He was everything to you, back then. But now... now everything is just fractured pieces, fragments that don’t fit together anymore.

“You left,” you whisper, voice shaking, barely audible. “You left me, Jason. You left me without a word, without a reason. And I don’t care how much you missed me. That doesn’t change what you did. How you let her in after years of ignoring me.”

Jason’s face twists in pain, the anger shifting into something else, something raw and regretful. “I thought you’d be better off without me,” he admits, his voice breaking, the quiet words ripping through the space between you. “I thought if I just stayed away, you wouldn’t have to deal with my shit. You wouldn’t have to deal with... me.” His fists unclench, and he runs a hand through his hair, pulling at it in frustration. “I didn’t think you’d need me anymore. I thought I was dragging you down. I was so damn scared of ruining everything we had. But instead, I ended up ruining everything. And I can’t fix that. I know that. I just... I just wanted you to know that I didn’t want to leave. I thought if I stayed, I’d hurt you even more. I thought... I thought it’d be easier to let you go than to keep pushing you away. I was wrong.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and painful, like a confession he’s carried for too long. You want to reach out, to say something—anything—but the words are stuck, lodged in your throat. The vulnerability between you is unbearable, but you can’t ignore the truth in his eyes. He’s not the same person who walked away all those years ago. And maybe, just maybe, he’s not the same person he was when he left. But you don’t know if that’s enough. You don’t know if you can trust him again.

"I wrote to you, you know? When i thought you were.... gone. I wrote to you almost every single day, I figured you'd like it, think it's something out of those books you used to read. It made me feel like you were still with me, like you were watching over me. When you, when you came back, I was convinced I wished you alive." You admitted your childish thoughts, voice breaking in between sobs.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” you say, your voice trembling with emotion. “I don’t know who you’ve become. I don’t know if you’re the person who cared about me, the one who sat with me and talked about everything or if you’re just some... some shadow of him. And I don’t know if I’ want to find out. Or if i'm ready to let go and forgive”

Jason stares at you, his face pale, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and frustration. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t deserve that,” he says quietly, his voice barely a whisper. “But I’m begging you. just let me try to make it right. I’ll prove it to you. I’ll prove that I’m not that guy anymore. I can’t erase what happened. I can't erease Tiffany. I can’t take back the years we lost. But I can try to be the person you used to know. The person you trusted. I can be your big brother again. I can still keep the nightmares away”

The silence between you stretches, each second heavier than the last. You’re caught in the middle—caught between the person you were, the person you are now, and the person he’s trying to be. But for the first time in a long time, Jason isn’t running. He’s not hiding from you. And as much as you want to shut him out, to protect yourself from more pain, something inside you is aching—aching for that connection you once had, aching for the possibility that it’s not too late to fix this.

What really broke you was seeing him cry. It was like you were a child again. It nearly broke your brain seeing Jason, your fearless big brother, your idol, cry.

“We can try” you whisper, your voice small, fragile, like it’s a decision that could break you. " it’s not gonna be easy, Jason. Things cant magically change no matter what we wish."

Jason nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, his face stricken with the weight of everything he’s put you through. “I know,” he breathes, barely audible. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. Never again.”

After Jason left, you had to sit and process what happened. In truth, you didn't know if things could ever be the same between you and jason. So many years of neglect and anger couldn't disappear with just a conversation and apology. No, you would make him, them, know what it feels like to be begging for scraps. Maybe things wouldn't be the same with jason, maybe after time and effort, they could be better. You missed him. So much. It would be easier to forgive him than Bruce. Yeah, Bruce is your father but Jason was your hero.

When Bruce reaches your door, he hesitates for a moment. The heavy weight of guilt in his chest is hard to ignore, but there’s something more, something that unsettles him even more than the tension in the air: the fear that you’re slipping through his fingers. That what happened today might have cracked something too deep to repair.

He knocks once, then opens the door.

You’re sitting on your bed, your back to him, staring out the window as if you’re already a million miles away. It’s almost as if you’ve already shut everything out, ready to move on.

His voice comes quietly, strained. " we need to talk.”

You don’t respond, not right away. Bruce steps into the room, quietly closing the door behind him. The air feels heavy, like something’s already been decided, but he won’t let that deter him. He takes a slow, steady breath, trying to calm the rising panic in his chest.

He’s careful, almost too careful, when he speaks again. “I know you’re angry. You have every right to be. But what happened today, what you did to Tim and Damian, it can’t go unanswered. It wasn’t just about the fight. You crossed a line, and I need to know that you’re aware of that.”

You turn slowly to face him, your eyes burning with frustration, and Bruce can see the rawness in them. The anger. The hurt. It cuts through him, deeper than any physical wound ever could.

“And what should I have done, Bruce? Sit there and take it? Let them walk all over me? Let ya'll act like nothing's wrong? Like you didn't ship me away because some bottle blonde bitch said to?” You scoff, the bitterness in your voice thick enough to choke on. “I’m sick of being treated like I don’t matter. Like I’m just an afterthought. You and your little Batfamily can keep pushing me to the side, but don’t expect me to sit quietly while you pretend I’m not even here. Not anymore. Never again”

Bruce’s face tightens with guilt, but he doesn’t back down. “That’s not what I want. I never wanted you to feel that way. I know I haven’t been there like I should have. I know we've all been horrible and cruel. But that’s no excuse for what you did.”

The words sting, but your anger doesn’t dissipate. If anything, it flares up again. You stand up abruptly, pacing, the frustration too much to keep inside. “Oh, I get it. You don’t want me to do anything that inconveniences you or your precious Batfamily. You want me to apologize for fighting back like I’m the one in the wrong here, right? You want me to crawl back to them, all nice and meek, because that’s what you think I should be. What I used to be. But I’m not that person anymore, Bruce. I’m not. And it’s about damn time you realize that. If anything, me and Damian aren't even close to even, he's hurt me before, threatened me before, that always went unanswered. Because fuck me right? Who cares about me? Tell Tim he's welcome to come get his lick back, I wasn't thinking when I hit him.”

Bruce flinches, his jaw tightening at your words. You’re right, he’s failed you. He’s allowed the distance between you two to grow, let it fester until you finally exploded. He’d told himself that you would always be there, that you were part of his family, but he’d taken that for granted.

You were right, Damian was never punished but Bruce would ensure that no one, not even Damian would ever get away with hurting you again.

But then, just when he thinks he has a handle on the situation, you drop the bombshell that completely shatters any control he had left.

You cross your arms over your chest and exhale, your voice soft but full of finality. “I’m leaving tomorrow. For the South of France. I’m staying with Ariel and her dad for the summer.”

The words land like a punch in the gut. Bruce freezes, his hand almost involuntarily reaching out toward you, though he stops himself just short. His breath catches in his throat.

“France?” His voice cracks for the first time since he entered the room. His mind races, how could you leave like this? How could you just walk away? You two were making progress, learning to understand each other. How was he supposed to fix this if you left? Was it that easy for you? Was it that easy for him to lose you? “You can’t.” He states, his tone final and unforgiving.

“I can. I already have everything packed, in fact, I literally didn't even unpack.” You shrug nonchalantly, trying to hide the ache in your chest behind a mask of indifference. “Ariel and I have been talking about this for months, it's our trip.”

Bruce takes a step toward you, voice low and edged with something darker, more possessive. “You’re not leaving. Not like this.”

You shake your head, the fire in your eyes fading just a little, replaced by something more resigned. “You really don’t get it, do you? You’ve barely noticed me, Bruce. You’ve been too busy with your missions, your family, your life, and I’ve been here, waiting. But not anymore. I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to remember I exist. I deserve more than that. That boarding school was the best thing that happened to me.”

Bruce can feel the weight of your words, the sting of rejection, and it makes something inside him snap. He knows he’s messed up. He knows he’s made mistakes. But the idea of you leaving—of you walking away, out of his reach—is something he won’t stand for. Not now. Not when he’s just starting to recognize how badly he’s failed you. Not when he can still feel the resentment rolling off you in waves.

“I can’t let you go,” Bruce says, the words slipping out before he can stop them. His eyes lock with yours, the intensity between you two growing, thick with unspoken emotions. “Not like this. Not when I’m just starting to understand everything that’s been wrong. I’ve messed up, but don’t leave. I’ll fix this. I promise. I’ll fix it.”

You stare at him, unmoving, but the fire in your eyes softens just a little. There’s a flicker of doubt now, a tiny crack in the armor you’ve put up. But it’s not enough. Not yet. Not enough to change your mind.

“I don’t know, Bruce.” Your voice is quieter now, but still laced with hurt. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this. You’re not the person you used to be. And neither am I. Maybe that’s just... something we both have to face.”

Bruce steps closer, close enough now that his presence seems to fill the room, heavy and suffocating in a way that only he can. His hand reaches out slowly, this time not hesitating, and he places it on your shoulder gently.

“I don’t want to lose you, not when I've just started to see you,” he says, his voice hoarse with a desperation he’s never let show before. “I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right. But I need you to stay. I need you here with me, please.”

The words hang in the air between you two, a fragile plea that feels both urgent and terrifying. The mighty Bruce Wayne, billionaire, playboy, the Batman, stood in front of you begging.

You don’t respond immediately. Instead, you stand there, staring at him as if you’re seeing him for the first time in a long while. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a flicker of hope in your eyes. But not enough.

"Compromise. I'll stay with Ariel for two and a half months and i'll come back here for two weeks before school." You say, eyes gleaming with the signature look all Waynes get when negotiating. Yes, you wanted to give him a small chance but there's no way you're backing out of this trip and leaving Ariel and her hot dad hanging. You weren't about to give up a summer of tanning, flirting, partying, and country hopping with your best friends for the chance that you might fix things with your father.

Bruce raised his brows, almost smiling. You were cute when you tried to be tough, but the deal is what made him falter. Two teenagers, two months unsupervised in a foreign country, who knows what could happen? Who knows what kind of influence this Ariel is? But what was really funny was that you talked like you were going back to New York for school! No, you were coming back to Gotham Prep and staying the manor, where you belonged. But Bruce wasn't cruel. He'd let you hope. "We can go as a family, a family vacation. I'll meet your friend and decide if she's trustworthy. I have a villa right in the-"

"No! Please no! I would rather die. This is a girls trip. As in only me and Ariel. We've been planning this forever. I won't cancel. Or bring my family, that's so lame. You never would've cared before." You say almost stomping your feet, playing the guilt card. You couldn't have your family there seeing what you get up to and who you get up to it with!

"One month and you take Dick with you." There was no way you were going alone. Bruce wouldn't cave, nor would he be guilt tripped.

The mighty Bruce Wayne got hustled by his 16 year old daughter. In the end he caved, you would stay with Ariel for two months and two weeks, not a day more nor a day less. You would apologize to Tim and leave tomorrow after a peaceful family breakfast. You would have your location on at all times. Yeah Bruce got played, but as he walked out your room and looked back to see you grinning from ear to ear and calling your friend, jumping up and down, he decided it was worth it to see you this happy.

He would let you have these two months, then you'd be back home where you belonged.

The morning felt too still. Too quiet. The clock ticked on in the background, but it didn’t seem to matter. Every movement felt exaggerated, every breath, every shift of your weight, every step as you made your way around the dining table. It was as if the house itself were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Something to shift.

As you went and sat down at the table, it was quiet once again and the air was even heavier than yesterday.

Bruce sat at the head of the table, his face unreadable as he sipped his coffee, eyes occasionally flicking toward you but never fully meeting yours. He was distant, but somehow… present in a way that felt more intrusive than comforting. He hadn’t been this present in years, actually never. Not to you.

Bruce’s gaze didn’t leave you as you walked, his eyes colder than you remembered yesterday. Your fingers tightened around the strap of your suitcase, the weight of his attention pulling at your chest.

Jason sat to his right, his hand resting on his mug with a white-knuckled grip, his expression hard and unreadable. Every so often, his eyes would slide over to you, watching your movements, the way you tucked things into your bag or adjusted the straps of your suitcase. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you, like he was mentally memorizing every detail, every shift.

Bruce’s gaze was fixed on you as he slid the black card across the table, its dark, sleek surface catching the light just right.

“Take it,” he said quietly, his tone laced with authority. “Use it for whatever you need. You don’t have to go without. Don't forget, you're a part of this family, always have been. I want to make sure you have what you need.”

You almost recoiled at the gesture, the black card a symbol of everything that tied you to this mansion, to this family. It was a physical representation of his control, their attempts to make you feel like you were part of something. But it felt more like a chain. But it is unlimited money... You didn’t take your eyes off him as you slid it into your bag, the tension in the room making your throat dry.

Your outfit—intentionally revealing, a far cry from the usual soft layers you wore when you spent time with them—felt more out of place than ever. The shorts, lulu lemon in the shortest length, the cropped top—it had been a subtle rebellion. A way to assert yourself, to feel free. But now, as their eyes flicked over you, you felt too exposed. Too seen.

Jason’s eyes lingered on your exposed skin, his expression unreadable, but his lips were pressed together in a thin line. There was an edge to his stare, like he didn’t like what he saw, but he didn’t speak. Not directly. His fists were still clenched at his sides, his jaw taut.

Damian’s eyes flicked over you as well, but his anger seemed to burn hotter, sharper. “Pathetic,” he muttered under his breath, too low for anyone else to hear. But it wasn’t meant for you—it was meant for himself, for the way he couldn’t control you. For the fact that you’d gotten away. For now.

And then, there was Bruce. His gaze never wavered, never softened, just cold and steady. He said nothing more about the card, but his eyes held something that felt too heavy to bear. Possession. It hung between them like an unspoken truth. And the way his eyes moved over you—lingering just a little too long on the exposed parts of her skin—made your skin crawl.

Jason’s voice broke through the silence next, but it was low, playful, but edged with something else. Something that made her skin crawl.

“No boys,” he said, his tone playful, even as his gaze flicked to the door. “I don’t care who you’re staying with, but no boys. Got it?”

The playful tone didn’t match the intensity in his gaze, though. She raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to play it off.

“I’m sorry, what?” you replied, letting a smirk cross your face, trying to make it clear that this was just Jason being Jason. They were back to normal.

“No boys,” he repeated, the humor slipping from his voice now, replaced with something colder. “I’m serious. No fucking around while i'm not there. No fucking around in general, figuratively and literally.”

Your heart skipped. You glanced at Bruce, expecting him to give a soft chuckle or a reassuring nod to say it was just Jason being… well, Jason. But Bruce didn’t flinch. His gaze remained locked on you, unwavering. His expression was cold, his lips pressed into a firm line. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even looking amused.

“Jason’s right,” he said, his words steady and resolute. “No boys. Not while you’re here. Not while you’re under this roof.”

You almost scoffed, good thing you weren't gonna be under this roof for long.

You blinked, the sharpness of his words catching you off guard. He wasn’t joking. His posture was rigid, his eyes locked onto yours in a way that almost felt like a command.

Jason didn’t speak again, but the message had been clear.

No boys.

You nodded stiffly, the weight of his demand sitting in the pit of your stomach.

Duke, who had been mostly quiet up until now, was the next to speak, but his voice was softer, more thoughtful, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation.

“You don’t have to go. You know that, right?” he said, his voice tentative, though there was an undercurrent of something else—something protective. "We could all go together. It’s better that way."

But his offer hung in the air like a dream you couldn’t quite reach. You could see it in his eyes—a hint of something, perhaps concern, perhaps something more. It wasn’t quite the same as Bruce’s cold stare or Jason’s intense grip on control. But there was an edge to it.

Cass, perched at the far end of the table, seemed as unreadable as ever. But there was something in her posture today—an intensity, like she was bracing herself, like something was about to happen, even if she couldn’t quite put it into words. She didn’t speak, but her gaze tracked every movement, every gesture, as if she were memorizing it.

Tim, seated next to Cass, had barely said anything all morning. His eyes flickered to you now and then, but it was more of a quiet observation, something far too careful and deliberate. He was almost… detached. But there was a coldness in the way he looked at you, like he knew something you didn’t. Like he was waiting.

Barbara was the exception—her smile was too wide, her eyes too bright, like she was trying to convince herself of something she wasn’t sure about. She kept trying to fill the silence with light conversation, but it always felt forced. And when her gaze landed on you, it lingered a little too long.

Steph, across from her, was the only one trying to keep things light. But the way she kept glancing at the door, at the phone on the table, at her own reflection in the polished surface—it was obvious she was uncomfortable. She was nervous. Especially after yesterday. And it was more than just the impending trip.

The room was alive with their watchfulness. It wasn’t just their presence—it was the way they didn’t speak directly to you, but everything they did seemed to be a reminder that they were there, that they could be there.

Damian scoffed from the end of the table and opened his mouth but closed it as Bruce looked at him sternly. He just rolled his eyes and went back to glaring at the wall, muttering things under his breath and gripping the table tightly.

He had been unusually quiet up until now and scoffed from his spot at the table, his eyes narrowed as he shot you a glare so venomous it was almost rivaled your actual venom.

“You think you can just leave, after everything?” Damian hissed, his voice dripping with disdain. His fists clenched under the table. “You think a simple apology makes everything okay? You punched me and left. You don’t just get to walk away from that.”

His anger seemed to grow with each word, but there was something beneath it, something that felt darker than simple sibling rivalry. As if the violation of his personal space and authority left him feeling more than just hurt, but threatened.

You knew that hitting him, striking him with all the force you could muster—had been the culmination of everything you couldn’t say, couldn’t express after all these years. But now, facing him again, you felt the weight of his anger. His rage wasn’t just directed at the punch. It was everything: the way you were walking out. The way you were leaving.

“Alright, listen up,” Dick said, his grin playful, cutting through the tension though his voice carried that same underlying weight. “Rules. You're not running off on some crazy solo adventure without us knowing every detail. I’m serious, okay?” His smile remained, but it was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re not a little kid anymore, but that doesn’t mean you get to act like an adult. I’m gonna need you to check in—like, every single day. Got it?”

The way he said it, like it was a joke, yet his tone was so firm that it left no room for argument. And then, with a playful but almost possessive look, he added, “No crazy parties, no boys, no drinking, and if you get yourself into trouble, don't come running back here. Just kidding! If you need anything, call me.”

His words had a strange effect, both reassuring and infuriating at the same time. You didn’t need him or anyone else telling you what you could or couldn’t do, you didn't need him acting like cared. Like he was suddenly your big brother after years of ignoring you and brushing you off.

Dick was still watching you, like he was hoping you’d cave to whatever soft version of control he was offering. “Alright, just... make sure you come back. I know we don’t say it much, but we care about you, okay? I can't change the past but I do regret it and I do love you. Don’t forget that.”

And there it was—his mask slipping for just a second. His voice softened, but there was something underneath it. Possessiveness, cloaked in affection. It was hard to ignore, the way his eyes followed your movements just a little too closely, the way his words lingered like an unspoken demand.

You didn’t respond immediately, your mind swirling with everything you wanted to say, but didn't. Instead, you let the silence hang in the air, a heavy, thick thing. There was something off about the manor now. Something that hadn’t been there before. The way they all watched you, their glances lingering a little too long, the small, subtle ways they tried to control your every movement—it was suffocating, and yet... it was addicting.

It felt nice being cared about, knowing you had control over their feelings now.

Your mind wandered, thinking of the freedom waiting for you in France. The sun, the beaches, the boys, the carefree nights with Ariel and your other friends—the perfect escape from all this suffocating attention. They don’t get it.

And then you realized—it wasn't just you going on vacation. Something would change when you came back.

When the time came, you’d have to navigate this new, tense version of your family. A family who acted like they cared.

The game had shifted, and now you were part of a strange, unspoken power struggle—your power over them was now as much as theirs over you used to be.

As you were leaving to the airport, your family bid you goodbye. None of them were driving you, they all had busy days today. Jason wrapped you in a short, tight hug, telling you to text him when the plane took off and landed and telling you to be careful, his eyes hard and filled with warning.

Something is his tone set you off, you pulled away before you realized it and got in the car, ignoring Bruce and Dick's awkward attempts to hug you and not even glancing at everyone else.

As you pulled away from the manor and watched their figures in the distance, dread pooled in your stomach. You didn't know why but you were already dreading coming back.

OK YA'LL SORRY ITS LATE. Idk why is struggled writing this chapter so much! lmk what yall think of it and why the reader thinks things are off.

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[katerinaaqu]

I see fair enough thanks for filling in the details.

Still makes not much sense based on her lore. As I said most of the time her lore states once or twice men coming after her (very similar to medieval witch hunt scenes in fantasy movies if one thinks about it) but in both those cases she faced the threats without any real problem! Like she looks to me more like Maleficent being attacked in the original animated scene than anything else hehehe

She didn't let anyone get near her. Her tragedy seems to be more based on the dreams she had or the fact that she had to witness a murder (and she didn't seem like a scared girl in that case either. So yes I think Miller added that only for the sakes of making Circe have a reason to turn men into pigs. Because even Argonautica have her already have this...hobby before. As for the essence of goddesses being trapped it seems interesting once more because PJO also uses this and say "oh poor Calypso was trapped and cursed on Ogygia". It seems a pattern here not gonna lie. But again maybe we can speak on the isolation of the goddess or her taking from Colchis as I mentioned to my reply to @venomspecs here to the west while her brother resides to the east. One can use that essence of her isolation and missing her brother without making her bitter of the gods In fact we do not see Circe be bitter against anyone especially the more powerful than her. She mentions Hermes and Poseidon among others and she advises Odysseus how to offer proper sacrifices and all but we do not see her vindictive or bitter because exactly her experiences by n large regardless of the source involve her own agency. The parts that we can pinpoint do not even see that many.

Ironically despite the fact that she does seem so, she also seems just in some things and only loses it in anger or when she is under strong emotional state. But she WAS proper towards others if they needed it. And she DOES help Odysseus and seems genuinely interested in him Her relationship with him is definitely one of power imbalance in Homer. no matter what SHE has the upper hand. Not Odysseus. The romance if one exists is one-sided (as per Odysseus's words also) and yes I feel sad and kinda angry that even though we do bring more and more the aspect of coercion when it comes to other figures of mythology we still remove it when men like Odysseus or even Bellerephontes are concerned or even Peleus. Both Bellerephontes and Peleus suffered accusations of rape by women that tried to seduce them as well. Odysseus was actually coerced and trapped into it as well. Miller seems to totally erase that context for the sake of this story.

Hmm I think I see where you wanna get with it. That Miller's obsession with the whole "I have no control over my fate" thing with Circe somehow showing to the writing that Odysseus did not have a choice at all. Ironically not even the gods have the power to change fate. Miller forgot to mention how ZEUS himself saw the fate and destiny of his son Sarpedon to die and he could not do anything about it. In fact he even suggested to try and he was scolded by Hera. The aspect of fate is connecting ALL beings together. Gods like Apollo or Hermes do not have more control over fate and prophecies than Odysseus had (which also shows how the gods could not free Odysseus till the prophecy was fulfilled) Yes judging from Miller's style especially linked to certain male figures, or even female if one looks at Thetis, that was not intentional. Or maybe I am too biased! Hahahaah! XD

Hahaha glad you liked it! XD Of course that is a surface logic. One can go a bit deeper and wonder that maybe just maybe the reason that she got scared was that she had no idea who the person before her was. To make an analogy with Polyphemus, he knew Odysseus would blind him but he had no idea that Odysseus was a human Likewise one could say that Circe had no idea Odysseus son of Laertes would be a human or that she didn't know till that moment that Odysseus held the knife to her throat that this would be that Odysseus. All she could see was someone resisting her incantation for the first time. That would be terrifying on its own The other one person I know to be able to see through her incantation was Medea in Argonautica and technically Medea was a relative of hers.

Seeing a man that appears perfectly normal, drinking her potion right before her eyes and not transform at her wand and her command might have been a shock to her which of course triggers her fearful reaction (if one wants this as more...logical reason as opposed to the fairytale logic hehehe but I am glad you liked that as a possibility)

You are flattering me too much! I am happy to hear. Well my knowledge is certainly not THAT great and I always try my best with the navigation through the sources as well as some of my personal studies and observations! However I am beyond just honored to hear that! It really means a lot to hear that I am useful to you in one way! ^_^ or that my thoughts mean something so much to you

Hello! I just stumbled upon your blog when I joined The Odyssey community! If it isn't too much a bother to ask, what things, reccuring themes and characterizations do you feel are most important and iconic within The Odyssey?

I am asking this mostly because I really do like your rants and opinions, I find myself agreeing to a lot of what you say, which sorta surprises me because of your clear dislike of Epic, whereas I personally adore Epic: The Musical. (I stayed away from it for a while -I was wary of retellings, adaptions and what-not- until I finally got into it like, a month ago and since, I have been listening non-stop)

So, when I came onto your posts, I was immediately drawn towards your Epic based rants and your translations. Point for point, you hit all the parts I disliked about the musical, albeit, my dislike is obviously much milder, since I still love it. I also completely understoond your stance on source material over so-called retellings since I have felt and still do feel the same about other (unrelated to The Odyssey) medias and fandoms.

If you'd like to talk, I love to hear more of your thoughts! Tell me all of what you loved about The Odyssey. Refresh my knowledge and give me your insight! I'm getting back into reading it, since I read it only once before a long time ago. I have always been more of a casual enjoyer, but now I'm really trying to dip my toes in.

(You don't have to say anything about the musical either, I just really liked your rants on it and the corrections you made on the misinformation rampant in the fandom due to preconceived notions... Sorry, I talk a lot-)

Why hello and I am quite honored you discovered me hahahahaha oh my, my once again being known for my runts huh? Hahaha XD I can see why though! I am really honored you decided to ask me such intriguing question! Hahaha how dare you! You know I am a yapper about this book! Hehehe!

I would say one reoccurring theme in the Odyssey that I rarely ever see in adaptations is the theme of seeking of knowledge. I find it so disappointing how it is literally one of the main themes of the Odyssey and yet I rarely ever see it happening. It is literally at the first lyrics of the poem:

πολλῶν δ᾽ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα καὶ νόον ἔγνω

He saw many cities of men and gained knowledge from them

(Translation by me)

Odysseus was not just experiencing his homecoming. It was a cognitive trip; a trip where he learnt things and he achieved things on his way.

He didn't stop at the cave of Cyclops because he had nothing else to do or no food to go by. It is clearly stated in the Odyssey that the island of the Cyclops was extremely fertile and had many wild goats and other animals they could hunt and feed on. Odysseus entered the cave because he wanted to meet the people that lived there. He ignored the signs that showed the residents were non-human because he wanted to give a chance to whoever lived in that cave to show that they were more than what met the eye.

He met the land of Aeolia next. His stay in that land for one month was share knowledge with Aeolus. He told them his story, they also told him their own experiences, thus Odysseus knows about how Aeolus arranged the marriage of his children and all

He sent scouts to the land of the Laestrigonians and their city, he was though more prudent this time and assured a safe passage even if his comrades didn't follow his prudent stance this is what costed them their lives but one ship.

He shared knowledge with Circe, not only on the part of his trip that he needed to move on but also gained knowledge from her. One example is the mention of a cunning knot he learnt from her which he used later in his adventures. Small details like that.

He gained knowledge from Tiresias not only on how to break his curse but also on what happened the years he was away from his home.

He had no reason to hear the sirens! The sirens is exactly the manifestation of his trip being of cognitive nature. He wanted to hear them. He NEEDED the knowledge they provided! Removing that concept from his trip in any shape or form shows to me someone who does not understand the Odyssey (I know it is harsh to say but I feel like there is one part of the Odyssey that is so iconic like the 12 axes challenge and that is the sirens passage)

Odysseus learns in every part of his trip and uses that knowledge to future adventures. But what I also fail to see is how CONSCIOUS this knowledge-gain is. Of course he learns things accidentally too but most part of it is knowledge he chooses to acquire for himself.

Another theme that I do not see much is theme of fate and destiny. Odysseus is not some idiot who doxxed himself as most people use the overused joke. In fact his trip is so thick of plot that one way or another something would have happened to cause this wandering.

Troy was destined to stand 10 years (from the Iliad),

Odysseus was destined to go home in 20 (hence he needed extra persuasion to go to the war).

Polyphemus was prophesized before that he would have been blinded by a man named Odysseus (he just didn't know who that Odysseus would be)

but we also know that Odysseus was destined to meet Circe (Circe mentions how Hermes had warned her for the prophesized man coming to her isle. She probably was unaware on the identity of the man or how that man would arrive at her doors)

Odysseus was also cursed by Polyphemus that he would either never return or return alone without his companions and find misery at his home

The true line between fate and destiny and human will is very thin in greek mythology. However we also see that Odysseus tries repeatedly to change fate even if it is inevitable (see my analysis here). It is this human part of his that is so relatable! Also the fact that oftentimes in the joke people forget that Odysseus experienced the absolute horror in the cave of Polyphemus for days. Exhaustion and anger took the best of him as well as of course his ego being inflated that he had managed to take down such a powerful opponent. And of course the reoccurring misunderstanding that Odysseus never cared for anyone else but as I have also analyzed there that is simply not true. It is even stated in the Odyssey:

πολλὰ δ᾽ ὅ γ᾽ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμόν, ἀρνύμενος ἥν τε ψυχὴν καὶ νόστον ἑταίρων.

He suffered many torments in his heart out at the sea, seeking to win his own life/soul and the return of his companions

(Translation by me)

The whole trip was always about Odysseus wishing to return them all safely home. Which is also part of his tragedy and shows why he went in so many lengths to save them etc.

I am honored that someone that likes this piece of media can still understand and even liking some of these opinions. I understand that for someone that genuinely like it might be a bit annoying or tiring but yeah I guess I love the original way too much! Hahaha! And okay I understand the songs are really catchy so it can be getting into someone's head easily but I am really delighted to hear you say that! And of course to be fair there are many things one can like about the musical for example the talent of the people related to it and their passion

However ironically that was the source of my dislike as well hehe I know it is paradoxical but when I see someone with obvious knowledge of the sources and passion for something, twist the original material to THAT degree...dunno I feel it even harder. I mean of course one does not expect it to be accurate but when I hear that and yet someone claim to adapt material I would expect of course these small details changing here and there for example adding dialogs with Poseidon (that is like a must in every adaptation minus the 1968 version I noticed...like Poseidon never interacted with Odysseus but that is something every adaptation adds!) or extra scenes with Hermes or whatever or even some of the details added. The problem is that the whole plot was twisted beyond repair, basic parts of the plot that made the plot unique and beloved were thrown out the window And BECAUSE I recognize the talent of the people involved AND seeing they had the chance as they did to make not only the Odyssey available to public but also influence more people to see it and they could do it by staying respectful to the material and yet they chose not to which increased as I said my disappointment. I was also very warm when I watched the first two sagas even if they were also inaccurate because they had exactly what I describe. So yes of course I absolutely understand why people would like it. Dang I absolutely do at least on the artistic department but the way as you brilliantly stated not only the plot but also the fandom of it has been at times it really got to me more than many things

So it is really a good change to see more people see this point of view too and I respect the fact that some people like it and yet do try to see the other view too. You are very kind for saying that!

Hahahaha dude you are asking a dangerous question! Hahahaha! I can talk about it forever! Hahaha Honestly what is there to me not to love about the Odyssey? For starters the fact that it is an ancient Greek poem, something linked to my country and my history and being loved in such a great degree and continue to inspire even almost 3000 years later, fills me with so much pride! Makes me inspired to do something similar! Like not caring if I will be a celebrity but someone see my work and admire it even if they do not know who I am...someone that can see this and continue to speak on it for generations to come... Of course many writers do the same as well like classical literature and all but for the specific one I feel so much pride!

The Odyssey arguably has everything! Romance, friendship and companionship, horror and peace, war and bloodshed and also tenderness of a family, drama and comedy, adventure and domestic life even daresay sci-fi details with the Phaeakes island that have literal robotic dogs created by Hephaestus for them. Odysseus is one of the most complicated personas in all literature history and earned that position in the hall of fame. Arguably even ancient Greeks and Romans could not handle the guy with so many different opinions that paint him from hero till villain. The same guy that held back from the battle till the proper moment and then abandoned his last escape to save Diomedes in the Iliad is now sailing to the seas. The same man that took Ismarus and slay the men and took women of it as his property and mentioning it as casually as he could was also crying his eyes out in guilt upon hearing a song about Troy and the way the city fell. The same guy that tenderly held his son and cried like a baby holding him and kissing him was also the same person that slaughtered 108 men in his palace and executed their allies in less than a day. The same guy who reigned the kingdom like a father; who embraced and kissed his slaves like equals, was also undoubtedly a strong leader and king who defended his authority with iron hand and he was ready to even slay his own brother-in-law when he defied him. The same man that held back from volunteering to face Hector in the Iliad and made sure he would be the last to be chosen, in the Odyssey he armed himself ready to face an immortal 6-headed monster all by himself. The man known for his mind and cunning and indirect ways is also known for being one of the greatest warriors known. Arguably even his age being one of the oldest kings in the Iliad and yet as Antilochus said he was also one of the fastest and more agile and one of the best in spear. The most pious and religious people to the gods, favored by one of the greatest goddesses of all, Athena, and loved by Zeus was also one of those who suffered a great deal from his hubris.

This man is the absolute perfection of contradictions in one body and the way he is portrayed by Homer especially in the Odyssey where he is the protagonist is a masterpiece of emotions. Arguably Odysseus is also one of the earliest male rape victims in literature for he was not just attempted to be raped and seduced but he had to literally sell his body once to Circe and then he was being forced by Calypso. A warrior that was absolutely powerless before the gods

The Odyssey is also a great allegory of the spread of Greeks to the Mediterranean sea before the official set of colonies and the way it provides us information on how they moved around. It is also an allegory on the dangers humans faced out in the sea, how they struggled and how the families left behind also struggled with the consequences. How the power of nature can bend someone but also how human with seer will can do incredible things Odysseus survived the impossible not because he had gods as parents or hardly any help from the gods itself with the exception of Leucothea in the last adventure and of course finally Athena to the final stage. Odysseus survived because of his seer will and his need to return home. Odysseus can be any one of us; a person who struggles every day; everything can hold us down and we might have no help or very little help from others but we must keep pushing through. The Odyssey also shows us the importance of companionship and family bonds, loyalty and trust. Odysseus didn't slay the suitors because he was a mary-sue all-powerful person. He had help from three loyal slaves (Euryclea, Eumaeus and Philoetius) and his son Telemachus. He didn't do it alone. He used the help of those who believed in him and quite frankly he faced a much less bad situation at his palace because of his wife's seer will and loyalty to not abandon the throne of Ithaca to anyone till he arrived.

The Odyssey is also about how there are many forms of strength. Penelope was not less strong than Odysseus because she didn't kill anyone with a sword. She was strong for keeping more than 100 men and several parts of the household that were betraying them with her seer will and mind. Telemachus was both a fighter and someone who tried to see the best in people and that saved his life (when he spared Theoklymenos at his return from his trip. Theoklymenos was a man who had committed murder. Telemachus chose to give him a chance and in return he received the prophecy of Theoklymenos that the suitors were planning an ambush) Odysseus also learnt forgiveness in one way when he was ready to start another bloodshed by the end of the Odyssey when the families of the suitors saught revenge but Athena stopped it, making sure both sides stopped the never-ending circle of violence. Nausicaa is an example of loving someone and yet you must respect their wishes and let them go. Telemachus is an example of self-discovery... The very realistic scenario of someone not recognizing the place they left for so long and people not recognizing you back. That you have to work yourself through the very same place you left behind! Even Telemachus as a character not even knowing what to believe anymore about the father he never met, not knowing whom to listen and whom not to etc. like a realistic scenario of absent veteran fathers who disappeared a long time ago...

Honestly...what ISN'T the Odyssey?! It is in my opinion one of the most complete pieces of literature that opens the way in many things! I am really happy you shall decide to look at it more attentively and I hope you shall enjoy it because honestly it's worth it.

(My friend I do not mind at all speaking about it. I am just not a fan so I am just asking the understanding of anyone that I am not gonna be very positive about what I mention and say. However I shall try not to be hater with no reason or logic, that I can promise to try)

[sangwookisser]

⭒WICKED GAMES | CHOI SU-BONG⭒

cw: manager! reader, rapper! thanos, fwb but thanos wants you real bad, pre-squid game! au, flirting, teasing, suggestive comments and innuendo, female reader, no use of y/n, oral sex, unprotected sex, thanos cums in his pants, 18+, MDNI

You were sat beside Thanos at his kitchen island, your fingers scrolling on your iPad as you flitted through your calendar, which included all of his important appointments for the month as well as your own.

Your posture was as rigid and straight as your tone as you spoke about his upcoming tour. For work.

That’s what tonight was. Work.

You scheduled a dinner date with him, which he suggested take place at his luxury home, hoping that it would be intimate and personal, and yet like always, you'd gone straight to business from the moment you sat down at the countertop.

He watched your lips move as you spoke, barely processing the words leaving your mouth. He was more focused on the softness, the fullness of your lips. How they looked stained red from the wine you were drinking.

He had kissed them before. And you had let him. More than once.

His fingers curled against the glass. “…so if you want to switch up the setlist—are you even listening?” He blinked, tilting his head.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm listening."

You gave him a sharp look, unimpressed. “Then tell me what I just said.”

His mouth quirked. You were always like this. So put-together, so untouchable, so fucking cold; except for the nights you weren’t.

The nights where you let him press you into the walls of hotel rooms and penthouses just like this, where you gasped against his mouth and dug your nails into his back and let him ruin you.

You'd let him fuck you stupid on his cock until you were an incoherent mess, your neat hair spread out under you and your lipstick smudged onto your chin, with the remainder of it on his mouth.

Then, in the morning, you always pretended it never happened. Always leaving first without a single word, even when it was in your apartment.

He was too busy imagining the different positions he could put you in if you just loosened up for two seconds to notice that you were still waiting for a response. Thanos exhaled through his nose, smiling innocently.

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head before taking another sip of wine, your throat working as you swallowed. His fingers tightened around his glass.

“You never focus,” you sighed, shifting in your chair. “If you actually paid attention instead of zoning out...”

“Maybe I wouldn’t zone out if you weren’t so fucking boring,” he cut in, his voice lazy, rough.

That got a reaction. Your expression barely shifted, but he caught the faintest flicker in your eyes, annoyance.

Good. He liked when he got to you.

"I'm not boring. I just know how to organize my priorities. In case you haven't noticed, your life would be a mess without me." You say, your voice clipped.

"You're right about that, actually." He grinned, pushing your hair out of your eyes. "Who else could fuck me as good as you? I can't find a replacement for your pussy."

He saw the flicker of your gaze, the way your throat worked as you swallowed, the subtle shift in your breathing. Your cheeks were a blazing pink with anger and embarrassment. He liked when you weren't being a robot for two seconds and felt something for him.

Whether it was want and anticipation for your next time in bed together, or a flicker of care, like back when he had gotten sick after a show in Busan.

When you had been the one hovering in his doorway, your eyes softened and your brows furrowed together in quiet concern. When you had sat next to him and dabbed sweat off his forehead with a warm towel and held his hand.

He had never brought it up.

You would have denied it anyway.

"Anyway." He broke the silence, leaning closer to you. "You were talking about stage lights?" You scoff and shake your head, staring at him disbelievingly.

"I wasn't talking about stage lights, Su bong." You snap at him, getting annoyed at him by this point.

You lean back slightly so he's not in your face, and the movement causes your breasts to bounce in a way he can't look away from.

Thanos’ smirk widened as he shamelessly stared, his dark eyes fixed on your chest before trailing up to your lips again. He shifted his hand up to your knee.

"You lean back like that again," he murmured, his fingers sliding up the fabric of your skirt just a little, barely touching the skin of your thigh, "and I might think you’re trying to play games with me."

You inhaled sharply, your spine straightening at the contact, but you didn’t push him away. You never did, and that’s why he kept testing you. Kept touching you, kept pushing just a little further every time.

You gave him a sharp look, clearly unimpressed. "Watch it."

"And you're a delusional little tease," he shot back immediately, grinning as his fingers curled against your thigh, kneading the soft flesh. "Seriously, you ever get tired of pretending you don’t want me? 'Cause it’s getting a little old, princess."

You scoffed and shifted in your seat, but that only made his grip tighten. His other hand slid under your stool, pulling you in much closer.

"Enough, Su. You always do this," you said with exasperation, grabbing both his wrists and setting them on his lap. He merely laughed and grabbed your waist once more with his big hands.

"Do what?" he grinned, leaning in so his lips brushed against your ear. "Tell you how sexy you are? My sweet little manager. Sometimes I think you might hate me."

"Don't be ridiculous." You shot back, pushing some hair out of your eyes and shaking your head with frustration. "Now, can we please foc-"

"I'm ridiculous? You're the one who gets onto me every time we're alone and let me fuck your sloppy little pussy." His fingers flexed against your waist, voice dropping into that flirtatious tone that he knew made your stomach tighten.

"Stop it." You repeat, your face too warm for your liking. You hate the way you can't seem to control yourself around him. You wanted him to shut up so you could focus and finally accomplish something without ending up bouncing on his cock.

Ever since you'd indulged him for the first time, it feels impossible for you two to be around each other without this happening.

His hand slid from your waist up to your jaw, fingers tilting your chin up so you couldn’t look away from him. His thumb ran over your bottom lip, his eyes flickering down to your mouth, full of heat and intent.

"You think about it, don’t you?" he continued. "When you’re alone at night. You touch yourself and think about me, huh?"

Your nails dug into your palm, lips pressing together. He liked your little pouts. They were so cute. He liked to catch you off guard and press your lips against his quite often when you were sulking, and you were afraid he'd do it now. "Stop it now, Su-bong. I won't ask again."

He only grinned wider. "Ohhh, you do." He squeezed your thigh again, mocking you now. His free hand pushed his thumb firmer on your lips. "Knew it."

You jerked your head away, pushing at his stupid, handsome face. That seemed to goad him on, however, and his hands hooked around your waist, tugging you forward so your knees hit his. Your balance wavered, and your hands landed flat on his chest. You could feel his heart pounding.

His fingers trailed up the curve of your spine, slow and deliberate, until they tangled into the hair at the nape of your neck. He grinned as he gave it a slight tug, forcing your head back just enough for him to drop his mouth closer to yours.

Your breath fanned against his lips, warm and quick.

"You always leave me hanging, pretty baby," he said softly, slotting his mouth over yours but not kissing you just yet. And he called you the tease. "Why don’t you stick around this time?"

Your lips parted. For a split second, he thought you’d let him win. But then you blinked, your expression shuttering. Your hands flattened against his chest, firm now, pushing him back.

Thanos let out an exaggerated sigh, dragging a hand down his face. "You're impossible, you know that?"

You scowled, slamming a hand down on the counter to shut him up. "Do you even understand how important this tour is? You do this every time. You don’t take anything seriously until the last second, and then I’m the one running around fixing your mess. And you think it’s funny-"

He cuts you off by groaning loudly and picking you up by your waist, lifting you onto the counter in one smooth motion.

Your breath hitched in shock, your hands gripping his shoulders as your thighs instinctively parted to accommodate the space he took up between them.

Your heart was pounding so loud you swore he could hear it. It felt like it was echoing through your whole body. He got right in your face, his hands gripping your hips, holding you there. His breath was warm against your lips, his voice low and strained.

"God, you are so fucking bossy."

You blinked, thrown off for just a second. But then your hands pushed against his chest, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "Excuse me?"

"Bossy. Annoying. Nagging." His nose scrunched up, his fingers pressing into your waist. "So fucking uptight. All you ever do is bark orders at me."

"Because you never listen!"

He frowned, beginning to unbutton your blouse. You couldn't find it in yourself to stop him. "Shut up." He muttered, his hands hooking around your body to take off your bra as well, letting your tits spill out. He sighed out loud and marveled at them, big hand grabbing onto the mounds and squeezing. he flicked your left nipple with the pad of his thumb.

"Mm!" You choke out, squirming against his wandering hand. "Su, l-listen," You mewled out his name desperately, writhing as his free hand palmed at your clothed pussy under your skirt.

“You can take it, princess,” he murmured. “Open your legs.”

You obliged, and his eyes lit up at the soft, damp patch forming on your panties. He groaned and tugged your panties down your legs, pressing open mouthed kisses to the column of your throat to distract you from him stuffing them into his pocket.

His mouth traveled lower, licking at your nipple sucking on the soft bud before transitioning to the other, his lips hot on the soft, plump flesh of your breast.

He's sure to kiss around the nipple and suck on your skin enough to leave marks, his teeth indenting your skin just hard enough for you to cry out.

"Ngh, s-stop m-messing around," you warned.

"Why should I? That's not how we work, princess. You're not in charge right now."

You frowned, squirming slightly. You're unable to keep your moans at bay, and you can't help but find the sounds he's making while sucking on your tits embarrassing. However, he didn't stop.

His hands kneaded your breasts, thumbs and fingers sinking into the pliant mounds as he lavished attention on each nipple in turn. He licked and sucked, his tongue tracing the curve of your areola, his teeth nipping at the tender skin. Your back arched, pressing your chest further into his eager mouth, craving more of his touch, his heat.

Moaning softly, he continued his assault on your breasts, the obscene sound of his suckling and slurping filling the room. His fingers tugged and rolled your nipples, the dual sensations of pain and pleasure blending into a heady mix that made your head spin.

As he finally released your spit-slick nipples, he kissed a trail down your stomach, his tongue dipping into your navel. He licked and tasted every inch of your exposed skin, his hands mapping the curves of your waist and hips, the flare of your thighs. Your skin burned under his touch, your body aching and eager for his caress.

He got on his knees, reaching the apex of your thighs. Thanos hesitated momentarily, his breath hot against your pussy. He inhaled deeply, the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils. "Fuck, you smell amazing," he kissed your inner thigh. "Been waiting to see her weeks now. You keep ignoring me and playing hard to get, princess. I'm tired of it."

He nipped at your thigh, and you squealed when he bit down on the pudgy flesh, smoothing his tongue over the blossoming red welt on your skin.

Not wasting any time, Thanos dove in, his mouth covering your pussy in a broad stroke. His tongue parted your folds, delving into your slick heat, tasting your essence. He groaned against your flesh, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading your legs wider, opening you further to his greedy mouth. He licked and sucked, his tongue circling your clit before flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked, seeking more of his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close.

"S-slow down!" You cry out as his nose bumps against your clit, and he shoves his face fully into your cunt, lapping at your folds so eagerly that he started to drool. His cock strained against his pants with excitement, and he growled lowly into your pussy. "Hold still, stupid," He murmured, grabbing your thighs and spreading them as far as they could go.

You pant, your head lolling back. He slides one of his hands into yours to keep you upright, while his other moves between your legs as he sucks on the sopping folds of your pussy, shoving a finger deep inside.

With a scream, your legs begin to shake and you try to move back so you dont gush all over his face, but he drags you forward by your hip, his finger gliding easily through your slick arousal. "Stop running away from me. Stay put or ill get the ropes," He threatened, pushing his finger up against your sweet spot.

"N-no! Ngh... I'm cumming! Please, it's too much," Your begging comes with soft whines as your eyes fill with shiny tears, and he moans against your pussy, rutting his fat, drooling cock against the leg of one of the stools desperately.

Your walls clenched around his invading finger, gripping the thick digit tightly.

Pleasure coiled taut in your tummy, your body wound tight like a bowstring, ready to snap at any moment. Drool dripped down his chin as he ate you out almost reverently, the obscene sound of his suckling and slurping filling the kitchen.

The counter beneath you grew slick with your juices, a testament to your overwhelming arousal. He could feel your thighs trembling around his head, your breath coming in sharp gasps and pants as he pushed you closer and closer to your peak.

You weakly cry out his name while leaning back and dropping your body onto the countertop, your orgasm coming crashing down hard as he continued to eat your pussy through it. That was all it took for him to finish in his pants, cumming in his boxers hard.

Your vision went white, stars exploding behind your eyelids as pure, unadulterated bliss consumed your every sense, until finally, with a shuddering sigh, your body went limp and pliant against the countertop.

He leaned back, his chin covered in your juices. He didn't bother to wipe his chin, standing up and pulling down the zipper of his soaked pants. "Look what you made me do, princess," he tutted.

You lifted your head just enough to see his cock slap against his chest as he tugs off his shirt, though your vision was hazy. He gently pushed you back, one hand going around your throat loosely as he positioned his flushed, swollen tip with your sopping pussy.

You're hypersensitive from your recent orgasm, and as the hot, hard flesh of his cock sears into your tender pussy, you try to sit up. He pushes you back down immediately, causing your lashes to flutter and your head to reel. "Su, ungh, please." He coos at your cries, his grip on your throat tightening to give you a minor distraction from the feeling of him beginning to stretch out your gummy walls.

You sob weakly, scratching at his wrist lightly with your nails. He hisses lightly, pushing into you some more. It felt like his length was never ending. It was just him pushing... pushing... pushing... he dragged you back to him by your neck so your ass was right against his pelvis, and he stared down at your fucked out expression as you squeezed his wrist.

"What, princess? Tapping out so soon? Thats not fair. I earned this." He thrusted forwards, and you moan out, your back arching off the counter.

You could feel his mushroom tip pressing flat against your soft cervix from how close you were and how far deep he was inside you.

You were gone, on the other hand. Eyes drenched with tears, drool running down your chin, and your face burning hotly. "You wanna know why, beautiful?"

He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, his cock kissing your cervix. "Y-you, anh... keep acting like you're too good for me. Like... fuck," he almost trailed off, getting caught up in how hot and tight and soaked you were inside, but he shook his head and tried to focus.

He wanted you to understand how he felt.

"Haah, y-you always... f-fuckin' ignore me and act like I don't mean anything to you." he rocks into you deeper, his hand tight around your throat, keeping you dizzy and dazed, but not enough for it to be uncomfortable.

He dragged his hips back slowly, leaving you momentarily empty, before he quickly thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt inside you in one swift, hard stroke. A cry tore from your throat at the sudden, intense sensation of being so utterly filled, stretched wide around his girth. 

“S-shit, mmh, y-you show up, you...” He swallows, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “...you wreck me, and then you just leave. Like it’s nothing.”

He began to move more consistently, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you, before slamming forward again, burying himself balls-deep in your clutching heat.

Each thrust pushed you up the counter, your breasts bouncing obscenely. "Su, s-su!" You scream, your pussy tight around his cock. He grunted, setting a hard, driving rhythm, the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the kitchen.

He kept going, moaning each time his cock impaled you, stretching you so full that you couldn't think. You were getting fucked so dumb, and his hand around your throat wasn't helping. He frowned, fucking you harder. You weren't listening to him, like usual.

He lets out a sharp, breathless laugh, shaking his head. “God, I like you.” The words come out in a rush, like they’ve been clawing at his throat, forcing their way free. “I like you so much. You l-let me f-fucking slut you out, but you won't see me."

He angled his hips to hit that special spot deep inside you with each thrust, sending bolts of electric pleasure shooting up your spine. Your pussy clenched and spasmed around his pistoning cock, dripping with your arousal. "I d-do see you, mmh, I l-like you too Su,!" You wail, panting. "I d-do, I... ohmygod, ngh, Su, please, f-fuck me,"

He lets out a huff of air through his nose, slapping your cheek lightly to keep you present. He's over the moon with the knowledge that his feelings are reciprocated, and his stomach flutters with happiness. " 'S exactly what I'm doing, stupid." He murmurs, before yanking your hips up, plunging hard into your dripping, puffy cunt.

Gripping your cheeks hard enough to bruise, he shoved his cock back in, driving even deeper into your core than before. "Like you so fucking much, princess, God."

Your pussy gushed and squelched obscenely with each forceful pump of his hips, the wet sounds mixing with your escalating cries as you milk his cock dry. He shoved his lips onto yours, taking your hands into his. His cock jerked and throbbed inside you, coating your insides with ropes of his hot load, his thick cum feeling creamy and heavy as it filled your womb

He gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he ground against you, making sure every last drop of his cum was seated deep inside your fluttering hole.

A scream of pure ecstasy tore from your throat, your inner muscles spasming and gushing around him as you came hard. Your vision went white, stars exploding behind your eyelids as wave after wave of pleasure hit you.

He dropped himself on top of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and murmuring how you wouldn't be leaving him in the morning when he was done with you.

[rosenclaws]

The Wolverine and His Bunny || Logan Howlett x Bunny Girl!Reader

summary: You and Logan have always butted heads and his constant, condescending reminders of your mutation don't help. It's not until your forced to train together and well, the tension is undeniable

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, rough sex, a variety of bunny themed nicknames (Bunny, thumper, carrots), creampie, manhandling, pain kink (Logan), doggy style, dirty talk, blow job, mirror sex, slight choking, degradation, praise, he plays with your bunny ears oops, enemies to lovers kinda? Logan's a dick at first, teasing, being pinned down.

Don't like it don't read it :)

Halloween Masterlist

wc: 3.7k

a/n: Okay look, I thought this was hot and so I wrote it. Anyways happy October first everyone! Hoping to add my degeneracy to the long list of fics to come. This also ended up being more. angsty than i mean it to be. I think I have an angst problem oops

You hated him so much. He was. He was just a massive dick for no reason and you hated people like that. You get that he was the all mighty Wolverine who was indestructible or whatever but if he could act like a normal person for once in his life that would be great.

He wasn't even the leader of the damn team and yet every one seemed to act like he walked on fucking water. It's not like he was the only one on the team either. He may tell everyone he's a loner and he doesn't need help but we're the X-Men. Not just Wolverine.

It's just not fair.

You had the perfect plan. Planned down to the very second and Logan had to go and fuck it all up. Maybe it was an honest mistake but you highly doubted it. He always had a problem with you. You didn't understand why. The moment you showed up to the mansion he was hostile. Calling you stupid, condescending nicknames because of your mutation while ignoring the part of it that made you super smart.

You were fuming when the team got back from the mission. You stormed right past everyone to get to Logan. They shoot you apologetic looks but you paid them no mind.

"Logan!"

"What's got your panties in a twist bunny?" He leans against the jet hangar door. A cigar already lit in his mouth.

"Don't call me that asshole!" You shove his chest but he doesn't move. Your nose twitching in anger as he just laughs.

"I had a plan Logan. A good plan. A perfect. Plan. So tell me why as soon as you had the chance to, you ruined it!" He scoffs and blows a puff of smoke in your face. Your ears flatten against your head as you wave the smoke away.

"We finished the mission didn't we?." He says with a smirk. If this were a cartoon you'd surely have steam coming out of your ears by now.

"God you're nothing but a slimy little weasel sometimes!" You push your finger into his chest. He pushes your hand away and bares his teeth like an animal.

"You have no idea what it's like to actually be on the field so why don't you tuck your little tail between your legs and run back to the lab."

"Logan! That's enough." Jean scolds him harshly as you turn around and storm out of the room.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes but you force them down. Fuck him, you were an important part of the team. Whether he liked it or not.

It's like he lived to torture you. Ever since the day you told him off he seemed to just. appear. Constantly. Wherever you were he was there too. In the kitchen? He strolls right in for a soda. In the training room? He's already there. All sweaty and grunting and gross. You're outside near the water fountain, guess who strolls right on up. It was like he was stalking you or something.

Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps approaching your classroom. You taught most of the high level classes, the advanced ones for students who wished for more academic classes. So their tests were more complex to grade which is why you were still here so late into the night. Your nose twitches as a familiar scent fills your nose. Without even looking you let out a long sigh.

"What do you want weasel?"

"Now that's not very nice of you." Logan says with a smirk as he sits in the chair across from your desk. He puts his feet up on your desk. Right on top of the stack of papers.

"Can't you go bother someone else? Please. Like anyone else." He grins and you roll your eyes.

"But I just love your company." His voice is dripping with playful sarcasm.

"You're going to work yourself to death carrots. It's not good for you." The truth is he came to try and apologize for the other day but he just hasn’t found the right time. Okay well there’s been good times but he was never able to get the words out. So here he is trying his best.

He stands up and leans over your desk. You have to admit he's certainly an overwhelming presence. His face is inches away from yours, eyes staring into your soul with a wolfish grin on his face. He picks the pen out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder.

"Why not take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun?" Wow, for a second there you almost thought he cared.

"You know what Logan, just leave me alone."

"You know I'm trying to be nice here and all I'm catching is attitude." He growls. You slam your hands on the desk and stand up. Getting close to his face as your ears flatten. "

Nice? You think you're being nice?" You laugh in his face and he pushes back. Papers fly everywhere.

"Fine, work yourself to death I don't fucking care." He storms out of your room and slams your door loudly.

"Asshole!" You yell back. You turn back to see the mess of papers and sigh. Great, now your night got even longer. Logan mutters angrily as he stalks through the halls. So much for trying.

It's been at least a couple weeks since that night with Logan and thankfully he's finally decided to leave you alone. You barely saw him and in a weird way, you kind of missed him. Kind of. Barely. In fact you really enjoyed the peace. Your ears definitely didn't perk up when you heard Logan's voice on the other side of Professor Xavier's office. You push through the door and find Logan looking very pissed off.

"You wanted to see me?" You glance over at Logan who was fuming silently.

"Yes, I think it's time you join the team. On the field." You widen your eyes in surprise. You never considered yourself to be a field agent. Your mutation wasn't exactly built for combat. You were speedy but that's about it. Strategy and smarts were much more your speed.

"I think bringing you out on the field would be an immense help to your battle tactics. As Logan so kindly put it, being on the field is different from watching on the outside." You flash back to the harsh words Logan had said to you a while ago.

Logically it would be helpful for you to observe what missions were like first hand but you don't think you needed to be there. Still to get yourself a suit and be part of the team sounded nice too.

"And since it was his idea, Logan will be your instructor."

"What?!"

"Absolutely not." Charles gives you both a look, one that said to quiet down and you both reluctantly listen.

"I am not a fool,  the two of you need to learn to work together. My decision is final." His tone leaves no room for argument and the two of you leave with scowls on your face.

"Alright thumper, here’s how it’s going to go. Tomorrow. 7am in the training room. Think you can handle it?” He places his hand near your head. You roll your eyes and duck under his hand.

“Yeah yeah, see you then Weasel.”

It feels like this was meant to be a punishment more than an assignment. You get that you and Logan haven’t. exactly gotten along but to stick you together like this? That’s just mean. You showed up right at 7am the next morning dressed in workout clothes. Logan is already there dressed in his little gray sweatshirt, white tank top and sweatpants.

“So you didn’t run away? Good bunny.” He smirks as your face scrunches up in anger.

“Fuck off.” You’re already dreading this. If you could just survive an hour then you could never deal with him again.

"Okay, show me what you got." He stands in the center of the mat. Arms at his side with an expectant look on his face.

"What?"

"I heal bunny, so give me all you got. I need to see what I'm working with here." You take a deep breath and launch an attack.

You weren't helpless by any means but you weren’t on the same level as Logan, even you could admit that. He barely flinched as you darted around the room. Striking him in a few places but he just stood there. It was starting to piss you off. You get that you weren’t the fiercest but he could at least try and fucking help instead of wearing you out like this. You look around the room and see wooden poles used for combat training. He never said you had to just use your hands. You dart across the room and grab one, swinging it hard against his back. To your surprise it completely breaks. Shattering on impact. He grabs the broken half that’s left in your hands and pulls it out of them.

“That’s cheating,”

“No it’s not. I was just using my resources.” He laughs and grabs your wrist. He slowly backs you up until you hit the wall.

“Oh yeah? What you’re gonna find a really big stick out in the field?” He mocks.

“This is useless.” He lets go and walks away from you.

You feel anger bubbling up in your chest. You don’t belong. You’re useless. What good are you to the X-Men? You are sick and tired of hearing shit like this all the fucking time and Logan was the worst about it. You launch yourself at him. Running as fast as you can and jumping on his back. It blindsides him, he tumbles to the ground. He grunts as you start to hit his back hard.

“What is your fucking problem!” He pushes you off and you wince as you hit the mat. You scramble away before he can get up and jump back onto him. Legs straddling his waist as you push his shoulders.

“Why do you hate me so much?! What did I do to you?!” You take a swing and hit him square in the jaw. He looks surprised but shakes it off easily. He doesn’t fight back, more in shock than angry at this point.

“I get that I don’t have metal claws and I can’t move stuff with my mind but I’m part of the team too!” You swing your fist again but he catches it this time. He grabs your other one and pushes you to the ground roughly.

“Fuck off!” You hiss as he crawls on top of you. He’s heavier than a fucking boulder as he practically pins you to the ground.

“No you shut up and fucking listen.” He growls. He still has your hands pinned to the floor. An almost animalistic look on his face.

“You are so infuriating, everything about you drives me fucking crazy. So pretty, so smart, so easy to rile up.” He purrs. Your body feels like it’s on fire. What the hell is he even talking about?

“I say things without thinking sometimes but you, you make it so hard. Always running your mouth.” You squirm under him, trying to get free.

Then. He moans. He fucking moans.

You stop moving and stare up at him in surprise. Then you feel something hard against your stomach. Oh. He’s hard.

“No fucking way.” You say with a smirk. He may be on top of you but right now it feels like you have all the power here.

“Don’t tell me you were an absolute dick because you liked me?” He doesn’t deny it. Instead pressing you harder into the mat.

“Shut up.”

“Couldn’t handle your feelings so you decided to tease me like a fucking schoolboy.” You laugh and try and move your arms but he doesn’t budge.

“You know what I think, I think you need to lose the attitude carrots, I think a nice good fuck would do you good.” You scoff at his words.

“And you think you’re the one to do that? You couldn’t make a girl cum if your life depended on it, Weasel.”

“Is that a challenge bunny? Come on, say it.” He’s hot and horny but he’s giving you a way out.

If you tell him to fuck off he’ll leave and you both can forget about it, but if you don’t. If you say you want this. Well he’ll finally shut you up like he’s been dreaming about. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. He’s breathing heavy like an animal and you’re studying his every move. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But you couldn’t deny that Logan was hot and right now all you wanted was to suck him off until he was milked dry. Shit.

“You can try, but I bet you won’t even last a minute.” He practically pounces on you. His face is buried in your neck as his hips grind against yours. You gasp as he bites your neck harshly. Eyes fluttering shut as he kisses it better.

“Dreamed of this, my bunny all wet and needy for me.” He nibbles up to your ears. Practically purring at how soft they feel.

“Not your bunny yet.” You bite back. He lets go of your wrists and sits up on his knees. He rips open your bra without the least bit of resistance. Mouth drooling as he stares at your tits.

“Fuck me.” He mutters as he harshly gropes your chest.

His thumb flicks over your nipple and you let out a squeak of pleasure. The last thing you wanted was for him to get an ego but fuck the way his hands feel on you is just so good. They’re rough and calloused and he is relentless in his movements. You almost whine when he stops playing with them, already missing his touch. He sheds his tank top, leaving him in all his muscled glory.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily as he takes his pants off too.

“You fucking wish.” You mutter unconvincingly. You take your nails and rake them down his chest making him moan.

“You like a little pain don’t you.” You tease, digging your nails into his skin harder.

“Maybe I do.” You yelp as he shreds your pants and underwear to shreds.

“Those were fucking expensive asshole-Fuck!” You gasp as he buries his face into your cunt. His hands locked on your thighs, moving isn’t an option as he practically inhales your cunt.

“Smells so sweet, can always smell you bunny but up close is just. So much better.” You feel yourself start to melt under his rough hold. He’s absolutely overwhelming.

“Maybe later I’ll finally get a taste but right now I think I need to put your mouth to better use.” He pulls you up onto your knees. Stroking his cock as he pushes you down. Shit he’s big but you don’t even react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Come on bunny, open up. Be a good girl for me.” Fuck him if he thinks he’s going to be in charge here. You smirk and take him as far down as you can.

“Fuck!” He hisses, not prepared for you to do that.

“Fuck slow down.” There's a hint of desperation in his voice and you feel a sense of pride. You pull back and spit on his cock. Using your hand you coat it, looking him right in the eyes as you roughly move your hand along his cock.

“I think you need a lesson too,” His eyes roll to the back of his head as you take as much of him as you can.

Choking as the tip hits the back of your throat. You are unrelenting, eating up every little desperate sound that’s coming from his lips. Not so tough now are you Logan you think as you feel him twitching in your mouth. He’s so damn close and its driving him wild. You feel a heavy hand bunch your ears and pull you off.

“As much as I want to come down your throat and watch you swallow it all…” He wipes some drool off your face as talks.

“I need to be inside that cunt.” Then he grabs your face and kisses you, actually kisses you. You’re startled at first but melt into it. His lips are rough and he smells so much like tobacco and whiskey but fuck its intoxicating. He’s big, rough, and so fucking hot.

“You’re soaking wet bunny.” He taunts as he cups your cunt with his hands.

“I bet you’re just aching to be filled. Don’t worry, I can help.” He manhandles you with his crazy strength till you're on your knees facing the mirrors.

“See, you’re just shaking with anticipation.” He grins wickedly as he cups your face and forces you to look into the mirror.

He’s not wrong. He’s big and you can feel his cock nudging its way into your cunt. You’re panting, hair a mess. His hand looks so good around your neck and he looks even more delicious. Your vision blurs as he slides himself inside of you. The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel nothing but Logan. Head up in the fucking clouds as he gives you a moment to relax, whispering sweet words to help ground you back to earth.

“Is your dick inside of me the only way to get you to be nice?” You ask breathlessly. Logan grunts, not happy that you’re still able to speak beyond moaning his name.

“I can be nice, I can be real nice.” He slides out of you at a slow, agonizing pace before thrusting harshly back in. You claw at the mat as he sets a brutal pace. In and out. Slow and hard. Pulling desperate sounds from the depths of your throat.

“Logan please!” You beg, you need him so bad. Need to feel him, need him to rearrange your fucking guts. “

So polite, now that’s more like it.” He leans in and kisses your neck roughly.

Claiming you as his own in his own animalistic way. He would tease you, continue to pull you apart on his cock for hours if he could. But the truth is he needed you. A deep carnal desire to render you completely fucked out. He leans back, pulling your back to his chest. He guides your hands to his arm.

“Hold on bunny.” Your nails sink deep into his skin, drawing blood as he sets a brutal pace.

Pounding into you so hard you see stars. Fucking hell super human strength and stamina really is a gift. He coos in your ear when he notices you starting to slump in his arms. Your legs burned, he was reducing you to a puddle of nothing.

“You okay pretty? Feel too good doesn’t it.” You nod, words not forming in your brain anymore.

All you feel is pure bliss and Logan feels a surge of pride in being the one to do this. You catch his gaze in the mirror. His eyes filled with pure, raw lust. His face was twisted in focus, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. His muscles were bulging with every move. You couldn’t stop yourself from look. Watching as he buried his cock into you.

“I know you’re close, it’s okay. I got you bunny.” One of his hands slips down between your legs. He draws tight, harsh circles on your clit making you cry. You’re squirming wildly, it feels too good. His fingers are too much but you don’t want him to stop.

“Shh, that’s it. Just relax.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you come hard.

Your legs can’t stop shaking. Logan tightens his grip on you, keeping you up right as he fucks into you hard. Chasing his own release, thrusting wildly and you fucking swear he whimpers as he stills his hips deep inside. Filling you up and then some. It’s a real shame when he pulls you, an empty feeling overtaking you. He loosens his grip and you almost face plant onto the mat.

“Logan..” You whine and he helps maneuver you to your back.

“Sorry carrots, didn’t mean to let you fall.”

“Don’t call me carrots.” You mumble, still completely exhausted.

“Okay, whatever you say, carrots.” You huff as Logan helps you stand up.

Your clothes are completely ruined but he somehow finds some extra sets of clothes in the closet. When did he even get up? Maybe you were still a little lost.

“Hey, you okay?” He cups your face gently. A slight look of worry in his face.

“Aw, you do care.” You tease. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of you.

“I always cared.”

“Had a real shit way of showing it.” You snort and he just smiles softly.

“Yeah. Guess I did.” To your embarrassment you still can’t exactly walk right. Luckily Logan is right by your side. You mentally prepare yourself to tell people you hurt your leg or something when they ask why you’re limping so bad.

“I still don’t know what I did to make you hate me.” You say quietly as you reach your dorm room. He sighs and gently plays with your ears. It tickles.

“I don’t hate you, I never did. I just. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can’t articulate just why he acted the way he did. He wants to, he really does but it just. Doesn’t come out. There's a long history of pain and loss and while you want to know why, an apology is certainly a start.

“Thank you,” He smiles softly, then realizes he’s probably overstayed his welcome. As if you two weren’t fucking in the training room less than 10 minutes ago.

“Do you want to stay?” He hesitates, unsure if this is truly what you want. If this line is ready to be crossed.

“You owe me for ruining my clothes. Just one nap.” He relents, it’s easy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Okay bunny. Just one nap.” He shuts the door behind him, crawling into bed with you.

He feels a rumble in his chest as he sinks into your bed. You’re soft and it feels like he’s meant to be here. You fall asleep quick, body aching and practically screaming for you to sleep. Logan stays awake for a while, just okay with being here. Just one nap he tells himself. 

He’s lying. It’s never going to be just one nap.

[submattsmxmmy]

roughdom!stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy step sibling kink, degradation/praise, dirty talk, thigh riding, unprotected sex, dick riding

🖤 summary: 🖤 when you find out that chris has a date, you find yourself getting incredibly jealous, so you do everything you can to keep him from going

hiiii it's @ariestrxsh ! this is my second account. if you're not into the whole stepcest thing, do not read further ! if you're my mom, god, or chris sturniolo, do not read further !

dividers by: @/strangergraphics

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

"Holy shit. You actually look nice for once!" You jeered at the rare sight of your stepbrother in a long-sleeved black button-down and matching slacks as you walked past him room. "Yeah, don't get used to it," Chris retorted back, cuffing his sleeves. Your gaze lingered on his long, thin fingers and the prominent veins in his hands as he adjusted his tie, tightening it around his neck.

"Where are you going?" You wondered, leaning up against his doorframe in a white tank top and silky pajama bottoms. You couldn't take your eyes off him, warmth pooling between your thighs. You'd never seen him get dressed up like this, and the two of you had been to a funeral together.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Chris smirked, dodging your question as he peered at his reflection in the mirror. "What are you being so secretive for? Just tell me," you replied, taking a few steps closer to him. He ignored you.

You caught a whiff of something that had notes of cedar and some kind of spice you vaguely recognized. You tugged on his black tie to pull him closer to you, pressing your nose up against his collar. "Chris. Are you wearing cologne?" You asked him, furrowing your brow. It really wasn't like him to put any effort into his appearance, never mind his scent.

"I'm going on a date, alright? Now, can you scram and let me finish getting ready?" Chris waved you away, smoothing out his tie. "So, when you fuck me, you wear your sweaty shirt you played basketball in, and when you're trying to fuck another girl, you get dressed up all nice, huh?" You sneered, shoving him. There was a bit of real anger behind it.

"Woah. Who said anything about me fucking her? This is our first date," Chris told you, defensively throwing up his arms. "So, you're going on a date, and you don't even know if you're gonna get laid!?" You asked, raising your voice.

You didn't know what hurt worse - the idea of Chris fucking another woman or the idea of him going on a romantic date with another woman. You felt your heart sink as you imagined him holding the door open for her, paying for her dinner, and kissing her goodnight.

"C'mon. Don't get all weird on me," Chris sighed, rolling his eyes. "Do I know her?" You asked, crossing your arms and praying that the answer was no. His lips curled into a shit-eating grin, "maybe."

"Chris. Please. Answer me. Do I know her? Please tell me it isn't one of my friends," you whined, tugging on his sleeve and begging for answers. "Don't worry about it, huh? What's it matter if you know her or not? What do you care?" He snarked back, knowing his vague answers were driving you crazy.

"Chris.. don't go," you begged, pushing him onto his bed and climbing on top of him to straddle his thigh. "Are you trying to get me to fuck you before my date?" He smirked at you as you started to loosen his tie. "Not before. Instead of," you giggled, starting to unbutton his dress shirt.

"You're such a little fuckin' slut. You know that? What am I supposed to tell my date when I show up late to pick her up? That I needed to give my stepsister some first?" Chris snarled at you, grabbing your hands to keep you from tugging at his buttons.

"Tell her you can't make it tonight. Please, please, please," you whispered, taking his earlobe between your teeth and gently nibbling on it as you rolled your hips forward, grinding against his leg. "Don't go. I need you."

Your begging sent blood rushing below Chris' waist. It was getting harder and harder for him to resist you. He peered over your shoulder at the reflection of you two in his full-length mirror. "I've gotta leave soon. You can't do this to me right now," Chris protested, but he was smiling to himself, watching the way your ass poked out of the bottom of your silky shorts.

You could feel his cock growing hard beneath you and beginning to struggle against the tight black fabric. "Are you sure you want me to stop?" You purred, pulling your tank top off over your head. His eyes dropped to your breasts, his expression softening as he admired them.

"I have to leav-" Chris repeated, but you cut him off, pressing your lips against his, your tongue begging for entrance into his mouth as you rubbed up against his leg like a dog in heat, your drooling cunt soaking through your shorts. "You don't get to put on this sexy outfit and tease me, and then go fuck some other bitch," you whined into his mouth, your voice laced with envy.

"You're so hot when you're jealous," he whispered to you. "I'm not jealous," you denied his accusation. "Mhmm," he hummed in a dismissive tone that let you know he didn't believe you one bit.

You unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, placing your palms against his chest and feeling his heart thump away at a faster pace. "You're actin' like such a slut right now. Really need it that bad, huh?" Chris muttered under his breath, starting to slip his arms out of his button up. "No. The tie and the shirt stay on," you replied, stopping him from taking his clothes off the rest of the way.

He smirked and let out a small chuckle. "What? Y'like the way I look in a suit?" He wondered aloud, moving his hands to your waist. "I fucking love it. You have no idea how much it's turning me on right now," you whispered into his ear before you started trailing kisses down his jawline towards his neck, your hands lingering on his rapidly rising and falling chest as you continued grinding against him.

"Fuck. You're ruining my slacks, ya little slut," Chris growled, staring down at the wet spot you left on his thigh from riding it. "What are you gonna do about it?" You cooed, giving him a cheeky smile as you grabbed his bulge that was straining against them.

"I'm gonna fuck you senseless. You're practically beggin' for it. Take these fuckin' things off," Chris rasped, looking intensely into your eyes and tugging at the waistband of your shorts. You stood up and slipped out of the last of your clothing.

Chris watched in awe, pulling his aching cock out of his pants as your panties fell to the floor around your ankles before you stepped out of them. "C'mon. Come ride your stepbrother's cock," Chris demanded, stroking himself as he smirked at you and getting himself fully hard. You watched the way his hand pumped over his swollen tip, a bit of precum pooling at his slit.

"You're so fucking disgusting," you replied, climbing on top of him to straddle him again. "You're the disgusting one," Chris started to say as he lined himself up with your entrance, "because I think you fuckin' like it when I say shit like tha - oh my god," he groaned as your pussy engulfed his tip.

And you did. You couldn't get enough of the way Chris talked to you - degrading you, telling you what to do, reminding you that he was your stepmom's son. You loved how wrong it all was, and so did he.

He let out a relieved sigh as you slid down his length, watching the way it disappeared into you in the reflection. He admired the way you started to arch your back as your walls fluttered around him, stretching around him and sucking him in.

His hands traveled to your tits, his thumbs brushing against your stiffening nipples before he pinched them. You squealed in delight. He leaned in, taking your supple breast into his mouth as his blue eyes stared up at you. "Oh, Chris. Feels so good," you moaned, tossing your head back as his tongue flitted around on your sensitive nipples, suckling on them.

You grabbed onto his tie to stabilize yourself as you started bouncing up and down on him. He let out a guttural moan with your tit still in his mouth, the vibrations of his pink lips adding to the sensation. The two of you were already panting, fucked out expressions on each of your faces as you both chased your sweet relief.

He released your tit from his mouth with a small pop from all the suction he'd created. Chris' hands slowly slithered down the small of your back, wandering to your ass as he watched it jiggle in the mirror every time you came down on his cock with all of your body weight. His fingertips gently glided over your warm skin, making you shudder under his touch.

"Filthy little slut. Ya take it so fuckin' well," he growled as he delivered a harsh smack on your left cheek while you were riding him, causing you to arch your back again and call his name out in pleasure. He loved how reactive you were. He delivered another powerful slap. And another.

His hands firmly gripped your ass, and he started bouncing you up and down on his length a little faster. You could feel every vein, every ridge, and every subtle twitch of his perfect cock as he drove it in and out of you.

His glazed over blue eyes were locked on yours, his brows pinched together, and his pouty lips parted in a look of pure ecstasy. You started to exaggerate the movement of your hips, massaging his cock with your velvety walls. "Fuck," he moaned in satisfaction as you rhythmically grinded on him.

Your knees were growing weak, and your quads were aching, but the way Chris looked at you, his expression saturated in pleasure with a slight look of desperation in his eyes, motivated you to keep going. "Good girl.. don't stop.." He whispered, his gaze locked on yours.

He reached up and gently caressed your face, the pad of his thumb making slow circles on your cheek before he brushed up against your bottom lip. "So fuckin' pretty when you're on the edge like that," Chris purred, recognizing how close you were getting.

You parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth. Chris let out a soft moan as he felt your tongue swirl around it, pushing it in further. You sucked on his thumb for a few minutes, sending waves of pleasure through his body and straight to his cock.

Chris slipped his thumb out of your mouth and gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place while he pounded into you from beneath you. "Chris," you hissed through your teeth as he slammed into your cervix over and over, bottoming out in you and bringing you each closer to the edge as you slumped into him.

"Can't.. take it.. gonna cum," you whimpered, clenching your thighs around his waist as the knot in your stomach threatened to snap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, digging your nails into his back through his black button up as you bit down on his shoulder. "I love having such a slut for a stepsister," he cooed into your ear. "Gonna cum for me like the little slut you are?"

"Oh, my god! Chris!" You practically shouted, your whole body trembling. The two of you finished in unison, your cunt clenching around his throbbing cock, milking him for all he was worth as he pumped you full of his load. He peered into the mirror as you coated his cock in your fluids, watching the way the mixture dripped down his shaft.

You threw your head back again, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your whole body tightened. Your orgasm hit you like a series of cascading waves, nearly knocking you down and pulling you into the undertow. Dopamine coursed through your body, pleasure flooding your system as you climaxed.

As you came down, your riding slowed to a halt. Chris breathlessly chuckled into your ear, helping you off of him. As you stood to your feet, your knees wobbling, his cum spilled out of you and dribbled onto his spent cock and the crotch of his slacks. "Shit," he whispered, peering down at the mess as he reached for a dirty shirt to clean it up with.

"Oops. I guess you can't wear these on your date tonight after all," you smugly stated, pulling your shorts and your tank top back on as you glanced down at the cum stain on the front. "I'm not going on a date," Chris responded, tucking himself away and rising to his feet.

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for agreeing to stay home with me," you replied, refusing to loosen your grip on him. "No, I mean. There never was a date to begin with," he admitted, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth.

"What!?" You asked, releasing him from your grasp as you glared at him. "I lied. I just wanted to see your reaction if you thought I was going on a date. You like me," he accused you, narrowing his perfect blue eyes at you.

"What? No, I don't. You're just a good lay. That's all," you nonchalantly shrugged, rolling your eyes. "You were begging me not to go. I don't think I've ever seen you so desperate," he teased you. "Fuck you," you snarled, pressing your finger firmly into his chest. "You're fucked up for playing with my feelings like that."

"And you're fucked up for begging your stepbrother to fuck you," he smugly responded, raising an eyebrow and grinning devilishly at you. "Fuck, if I had any idea how you'd react, I would've put that stupid suit on sooner."

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi Shinazugawa falling hard for his polar opposite but is too subborn to confess until he does

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Sanemi was never the type of guy who falls for something stupid as love. Especially not when it comes to his polar opposite, especially not with such a kind and gentle girl like you... Right?

Warnings: this is pure fluff y'all, reader and Sanemi being innocent babies, a tiny bit enemies to lovers

Thank you soo much for that cute request @blunderland, I just knew I had to write that asap hehe. Let me know what you think <3

There you stand with your stupid perfect face and smile so gentle that you could tame a demon with it. With worried expression, you bend over the little demon girl and inspect her wounds carefully.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon”, you speak out while caressing her dark hair.

What a poor girl she is. And her brother…Your eyes drift towards the boy with the beat-up face. What he had to endure is truly unfair, too much to bear for a single person. He really lost his whole family apart from that one sister who got turned into a demon.

And now he’s fighting for the demon slayer corps.

“I admire you.”

Tanjiro Kamado’s eyes widen in utter surprise.

“There’s no need to admire me. Actually, I’m the one who’s looking up to you. You’re the first person who didn’t judge my sister because she’s a demon.”

“Demons were once humans too”, you explain briefly while gracefully getting up.

“And I refuse to see them as anything else until they prove the opposite.”

“What kind of fuckery is this, (y/n)?”, an oh so familiar voice barks at you from behind.

Sanemi Shinazugawa really seems like a man with a heart made out of solid ice with his hateful orbs gleaming at Tanjiro and his sister.

“Don’t you think they proved themselves more than enough, Sanemi? If Kagaya-sama agreed on allowing Nezuko Kamado to live and her brother to continue fighting for the demon slayer corps, there is nothing to question for us hashira.”

“Don’t touch that demon brat so casually”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your wrist tightly.

Your heart skips a beat when his bare skin touches yours. How ridiculous it is that you developed feelings for him. Out of all the other hashira, it was always Sanemi Shinazugawa before everyone else. Those rare moments of tenderness he shows from time to time, the way he worries about his comrades without expressing his true feelings to the world. His closed like a treasure, so gorgeous that you can’t take your eyes off him.

“That isn’t a very nice way to talk to our guests, Sanemi”, you reply softly.

Urgh. He can’t fucking stand you with that scolding expression on your face, how your other hand still rests on top of the head of that demon brat. Why do you have to be so sickening kind to everyone you meet? Why are you even a part of the demon slayer corps with that strange attitude of yours?

“Guests? Are you talking about those intruders? If it was for me, I’d rip both of your heads off without blinking-“

“Sanemi.”

Before he’s able to react any further, he finds his own face framed by your much smaller hands and eyes focused onto his so intensely that he feels his cheeks heat up in an instant.

Why…Why is he suddenly feeling so hot? He should slap your hands away, should show you your place-

“Trust me, I understand your anger. But they are innocent until they prove themselves guilty.”

Those calm eyes who never lose their composure, the eyes he threatened to get lost in countless times already. Why do you have to be so damn gorgeous?

Gorgeous? He furrows his eyebrows, body yanking away from yours instantly. There’s nothing gorgeous about someone like you.

“If you really think that you’re a fool”, he bites back before turning on his heels and storming away.

What the hell was he even thinking? You, gorgeous…Just because your eyes seem to sparkle in the sunlight or the way your hair looks like liquid silk when a ray of light hits it perfectly. Or maybe because of the way your uniform hugs you so well, because of your strength. Or is it the way you look at him?

Sanemi shakes his head vehemently. That’s absolutely ridiculous. You’re the complete opposite of him. How could he ever like you?

“I think Shinazugawa-san likes you, (y/n)!”, Mitsuri babbles out while making her way back with you.

“Really? It definitely didn’t look that way”, you reply with low voice.

Oh, how much you’d hope that someday, the wind hashira actually likes you back. Even though both of you are polar opposites, even though you might never be on same terms. You still somehow managed to fall hard for him.

“Don’t give up hope, (y/n)! I definitely caught the way he looked at you earlier!”

You smile at the girl next to you gently, how she starts analyzing every minor detail of your confrontation earlier on. Mitsuri always swore that there is chemistry between both of you.

“And I’m never wrong when it comes to love, you can trust me (y/n)!”

“You’re a fool for treating (y/n) like trash, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly while letting his feet dangle from the tree he’s resting on.

“What are you even talking about, huh? It’s none of your business how I’m talking to her anyway.”

“(y/n) truly has a tender and kind soul. What a shame it is you hurt her like that”, Gyomei adds, tears streaming down his face in waterfalls again.

“Are you too dumb to realize she has feelings for you?”, Obanai continues.

You? Feelings for him? He huffs out loud. Absolutely ridiculous, maybe even impossible. Why would someone like you fall for someone like him? Not that he’d care for you like that anyway…

“I don’t give a shit”, Sanemi finally mutters through gritted teeth.

“Shinazugawa, it seems like you have a type”, Gyomei declares all of the sudden.

Something inside Sanemi snaps.

“Are y’all actually too dumb to realize that (y/n)’d never want me? I’m actually so far away from being her type I might be on a whole other planet! It’s like everything I am is exactly what she doesn’t want”, he finally blurts out.

Sanemi’s heavy pants hang in the air while the eyes of Obanai, Giyu and even Gyomei are set on him.

“You should really start working on your self-esteem, Shinazugawa.”

“JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE Y’ALL!”

No, he can’t stand their bullshit anymore. Without listening to another word, Sanemi stomps away in the direction of his estate.

“(y/n) being in love with me? That I don’t laugh, why would I even care about that girl?”, he mumbles under his breath.

-a few days later-

Sanemi swallows heavy, orbs wandering up and down your body. You’re not wearing your usual black uniform and blooming haori. No, you look like a fucking goddess in that kimono and with those flowers braided into your hair.

“Do you think I look like too much?”, you question quietly, your own eyes wandering down your body in distress.

Maybe it was a mistake wearing that kimono for your meeting with Mitsuri. Of course, you knew she’d ask Obanai and Sanemi to accompany you. After all, it’s no secret that she adores the serpent hashira and knows too well about the feelings you hold for Sanemi. But now that you stand in front of him in something apart from your usual uniform, your confidence is blown away by the wind.

“You have to be kidding me. You look gorgeous”, Sanemi blurts out before thinking twice.

Fuck, did he really say that? You definitely think he’s a creep now. Maybe he should get going before it gets uncomfortable-

Your heart skips a beat, cheeks heating up in an instant. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa just call you gorgeous when he’s standing in front of you in that dark green kimono? How is it possible you’re never seen Sanemi in something apart from his usual uniform, that you never went out with each other?

“You look very handsome yourself. Dark green really suits you well”, you reply shyly.

Is it possible that maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same about you? No, that would be absolutely ridiculous, right?

“(y/n), actually there’s something I wanted to say you for quite some time now…” What the hell is he blabbering about? There’s absolutely nothing he has to tell you apart from how fucking annoying you are. You and your gentle voice, you and your captivating smile. You, the polar opposite of him-

“Oh, I actually wanted to tell you something as well!”, you reply a little too fast.

For a moment, you fear your knees might give in. Is this really the time to tell him about your true feelings? “Sometimes you have to be brave, (y/n), especially when it comes to true love! Confess to him!”

Mitsuri is the love hashira. She should know best, right? But what if you’ll make your relationship only worse by making him uncomfortable? What if he doesn’t even like you?

“Sanemi, I…I actually…I-“

“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally blurts out.

Oh.

There you stand with your opened mouth and blank mind. Did he really just say that? Maybe he didn’t mean it that what. But what if…What if he actually means it?

“You…love me?”, you breathe out.

“I know I’m your polar opposite and that I treated you like shit and I really don’t expect you to actually like me back. I just…wanted to let you know…”, the white-haired man opposite of you mutters while scratching the back of his head.

“But I actually do like you back…”

Sanemi’s eyes dart towards you immediately, his very own cheeks discolored bright pink.

“You…what?”

“I guess I was just never brave enough to let you know since I was sure you hate me…”, you mutter in response.

“Me, hating you?”

All of the sudden, you find his strong arms wrapped around your waist and his face only inches away from yours. You fail to breathe, your whole body refusing to function properly. That force of a man who never really seemed to care about you while your feelings for him were all over the place…He holds you so tight that your wobbly legs don’t have to carry your weight anymore, his usual so distressed orbs now looking down at you so passionately that your heart skips a beat.

“Do I look like I hate you?”, he challenges while pulling you even closer.

You expected a lot of things that could have happened today. Sanemi Shinazugawa declining Mitsuri’s invitation in the first place. Sanemi Shinazugawa keeping his safe distance to you. Sanemi Shinazugawa barking at you for being a blowhard. Sanemi Shinazugawa criticizing each and every little thing you do. But Sanemi Shinazugawa admitting his love for you, Sanemi Shinazugawa holding you tightly in his arms?

Not in a million years.

“I love you too”, you finally speak out.

“I actually did for quite some time. But I always thought you’d never like me back.“

“Well, here I am liking you back, idiot”, Sanemi mutters.

Is that a smile on his face? Why does it suddenly feel like his lips are moving closer? Oh, you thought about kissing that man countless times. Each and every night, you imagined what the privilege of feeling his soft lips pressed against yours might feel like. Is he rough, gentle? Did the wind hashira already share a kiss or two? Out of instinct, you close your eyes, allow yourself to get lost in his arms.

“Look what we have here. Seems like the two of you finally managed to admit your feelings”, Obanai’s dry voice jeers at you from behind.

Your eyes dart open immediately.

“No Iguro-san! You’re interrupting them!”, Mitsuri hisses.

“Are you too dumb to see we’re in the middle of something? Get lost, you fools!”

“I KNEW IT (Y/N)! I KNEW HE LOVED YOU!”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

[k1mbe3rly]

Hi :-)

A Request for all of us are death (sorry if its double now somehow my Internet Connection kicked me out)

What about an oneshot or head canons what ever works better for you to work with - Yoon Gwi-nam x shy girlfried who is super loyal to him and stands by his side no matter what?

loveee

Gwi nam dating a shy girl headcannons

warnings: smut, gentle?gwi nam

- Gwi nam is very protective of you especially since your very shy and not that talkative, so when someone is telling/scolding you, he basically talks for you

- He loves your tits so much, he loves teasing your nipple and seeing them get hard against his fingers

- Gwi nam likes to show you off in public, he likes to hold your hand or have a hand around your shoulder just so people can see yall are dating, a few people know not to talk to you especially with Gwi nam on your side

- He would also show you off in many ways, he’ll fuck you in a janitors closet or a empty classroom, he also loves to give you hickeys where he knows people are able to see, he also likes when you give him a few hickeys as well

- Gwi nam gets mad very easily, and sometimes even takes it out on you by yelling at you or just raising a hand up, but he won’t actually hit you maybe just a shove

- He also loves taking his anger out on you in different ways, shoving his cock deep into you and pulling your hair back, slapping your ass as he whispers dirty things into your ear

- Gwi nam absolutely hates when you stop him from beating a kid up, but of course he listens to you since he figured your way to innocent to see him brutally beat some kid up, he gets annoyed and even asks “why the fuck do you care? you like him or something ?” he also makes you hit them sometimes “Go on. Give him a little slap to the face, just do something!”

- If he’s already annoyed at something and you protesting to stop him from beating a kid up, he would fuck you infront of them, forcing them to look at you as you get your insides ruined, he also makes you look up at the person and tell them that only he’s able to stretch you out the way he does and fuck you like the way he does

- Gwi nam who doesn’t show that much affection in public, he makes sure he doesn’t do too much infront of you or have anyone talk to you a lot especially if you don’t talk much and usually quiet, that’s how he noticed you in the first place. Admiring how silent and gorgeous you are focusing on the board and writing down notes

- He’s able to make you loud as well. Your moans filled up the bedroom yall were in, as skin slapping was heard as well as he watched how your mouth was parted open with moans falling out, he loves seeing you so loud for him

- Gwi nam actually tries to change for you, his behavior and how he acts, which was shocking to himself since he used girls and just threw them away, he noticed how he was acting around you like a nervous teenage boy trying to impress his crush, he even tried studying with you which turned out awefully causing him to groan in frustration and leave, he also checks if anyone is around and gives you hugs but than acts like he doesn’t care with a nonchalant face

- He does love you a lot which is why he fucks you a lot, not because he wants you for your body, but because he’s grown used to how tight you were around his cock, he absolutely loved feeling it tighten up even more, he even once tried going gentle but it just doesn’t work out and he even apologized!? “Sorry- but this gentle fucking isn’t working for me, awh- fuck!” he says as he begins thrusting even faster his hands curling into your hair

Apocalypse au

- Gwi nam who absolutely protects you with everything when the apocalypse breaks out. Killing people and beating them up if they ever get in yalls way from running away, but unfortunately you had somehow got separated from him, he was stressing out when he lost you, nowhere to be seen and even got turned into a Hambie

- Gwi nam who finds you hiding in class room shaking and crying and tries to go up to you and finds you backing up from him, he reassures that he’s not gonna bite/hurt you, you told him to just stay where he’s at and he listen, you guys sat separately as finally you gave into him and crawled towards him crying into his chest

- Gwi nam tries to calm you down but obviously he’s not the best at it “It’s okay.. your gonna make it out alive and we’re gonna have the best time together, well that’s if you make it alive..” he says as you cry harder at the thought of being into a zombie

- Gwi nam who makes you follow him and even kills off a few zombies for you, he finds Nayeon in a room with a bag of food, you watched as they interacted until he suddenly bit into her, you flinched at the sight and once he was done, he goes to you hugging you tightly, you were shaking in his arms as he spoke “Your never gonna leave me..okay? i love you so much. I’ll kill anyone for you especially in this state, I’ll help you get out of here, now here, eat this” he said giving you the bag of food

[angelicdanvers]

THE CLEARING | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader prompt: “i could admire you all day.” by @normal-internet-user

summary: a sweet moment in the clearing of pearls. takes place before tlt. wc: 1.2k

a/n: i'm back in my luke castellan phase and this time, unapologetically :') ik ik, he's the enemy. totally :D i haven't written in so long, i really hope you guys enjoy this! i eventually will make a collection of these on my wattpad (of the same username). have a great day/night! <3

camp half-blood was just as rhythmic as any other day. the campers were up and running, tending to chores or activities, chiron was introducing some new campers, mr. d had his legs hitched up on the table and was slumbering.

and yet — somehow — something still felt off to y/n. she couldn’t put her finger on it. for a child of ares, she was undeniably observant of her surroundings, ready to feed a punch, but she didn’t see nor feel anyone around. 

often times, she realized it was her subconscious warning her of her siblings’ antics. despite coming off as a cold hearted bitch, y/n was quite the opposite and everyone in camp knew. whether they experienced her dual sidedness face to face, they heard of it and believed it. it wasn’t common for all the ares children, even clarisse, to like one person, sibling, mutually. yet y/n was that sibling.

she didn’t mind it. the eighteen year old was one of the oldest and made it her duty to keep everyone in check, even if that meant going against her easy way out — anger. her siblings often appreciated that despite not showing it, but sometimes clarisse had a lot to say.

this definitely wasn’t one of those times, though.

clarisse had just come by and helped y/n braid two of their younger sisters’ hair, the two chatting normally and without any apparent trouble.

then what in the world kept nagging her?

she kept sensing an odd aura around camp. maybe it was the gods’ doing. maybe.

sighing, she sat on the cabin floor, watching as the last of her brothers walked out. she began tying her laces, fixing the tongue on her boots. her instincts picked up as she heard soft crunches from the side of the cabin. grabbing her sword, she walked out diligently, observing the area around her and positioning the sword towards the crunches. she carefully examined the reflection, absolutely no sight of anyone. stiff, she shrugged off her unease, heading down the paths and to her clearing.

the clearing had a waterfall cascading at the heart, a sparkling little pool in the centre. for nine in the morning, the earth was still dewy and the crisp scent of the woodlands surrounded her senses.

inhaling deeply, y/n stepped towards her favourite boulder and slid her shirt off. one by one, she stripped down until she was in her bikini, and fixed her locks to be appropriate for swimming. once ready, she slowly dipped her foot in, the coolness of the water pulsing through her body and sending a jolt within her. 

a mere moment later, y/n was wading in the water, beginning to take laps around the pool. she always had a surge of energy in water that always made her wonder if she was actually poseidon’s daughter — of course, she wasn’t, but maybe she had to thank him for her love of water. maybe. maybe it was just her and the gods really didn't impact her.

submerging underneath, the girl opened her eyes and scanned the bottom. on her lucky days, she’d find little pearls the nymphs would leave behind. she'd have to personally thank them one day. her growing collection was all towards making special beads for campers who’d been there for a significant amount of time, symbolizing their individuality. she was thinking of giving annabeth and luke one to add to their necklaces before all else.

squinting, y/n saw a shimmering area in the corner. charging towards it, she picked it up and examined it with her hands; the water was getting rather hazy. these pearls were heavier, and with more texture than she’d ever felt.

smiling to herself, she carefully held it within her palms, swimming further up and merging out of water. she felt the sun shining on her, and she braced for the sudden light adjustment.

and then the sun was gone.

her brows furrowed, and y/n cracked open an eye, glancing towards where she felt the sun mere moments ago. instead of trees and simple clouds, she saw a lean figure wearing an orange shirt and khaki cargos, arms folded across their chest. she knew those arms.

“gods, what are you doing here?” y/n questioned, slightly lowering herself into the water and staring at the male before her.

he stifled a chuckle, his signature smirk playing on his lips. “what? can’t a guy be with his girlfriend?”

“luke,” she warned, “didn’t we agree to not be around each other unless we actually had a plan to sneak off?”

the curly haired boy shrugged. “like that’ll stop me.”

“luke, c’mon. if anything, we can’t have anyone find out like this.”

he shook his head, “they won’t know a thing.” he nodded towards annabeth’s cap. 

y/n had to admit, his desperation to be with her in any way was the most adorable and hot thing she’d ever witnessed. “did you at least ask her for it?”

“yes ma’am.”

y/n smiled toothily, wading towards the edge and climbing out. luke watched her every move, enthralled by her beauty. he wasn’t sure how he even convinced her to go on that first date, considering she had a knee on his chest and a sword to his neck. too bad he’s the best swordsman and pinned her down next. 

how could she say no after that?

she found him quite intriguing as well.

luke followed his girl as she went over to the boulder, grabbing her towel and gently drying herself off. he headed up behind her, taking the towel from her arms and drying her back off for her. 

“that still hasn’t healed,” he noted, tracing the scar on her shoulder blade. y/n’s body melted at his touch, and the chills she felt were replaced with flames. 

“yeah,” she whispered as luke softly turned her around, wrapping the towel around her body. he brought her body closer to his, putting his index to her chin and tilting her head up.

“you know, i could admire you all day.”

“and why is that?”

he laughed, “with that sexy soul and sweet hobby of collecting pearls, how could i not?”

y/n felt her cheeks grow hot, a soft grin making its way to her face. “i could say the same, pretty boy.”

"who are you giving those pearls to?"

"if i said who, wouldn't the surprise be ruined?" she quirked, tilting her head to the side a little. "eh, word on the street keeps mentioning the best swordsman."

luke smirked, satisfied with her answer, his black hair gleaming in the sly sunlight. y/n cupped the left side of his face, tracing her fingers on the scar to his right. their eyes couldn’t leave one another’s, an enigmatic energy floating amongst them.

“i want to kiss you,” luke’s voice was lower than before, his grip tightening around her waist.

“do it,” y/n mustered up, fluster traversing through every bone in her body. 

without second thought, luke pressed the girl against his body, capturing her lips. y/n’s fingers trailed to his hair, tugging at the curls as their lips intwined passionately.

the teenagers yearned for each other, their love enveloping around them as they remained  in their locked position. luke’s lips were as light as a feather but had a hold on y/n that she was sure no other could.

breathless, the two pulled away for a moment before luke pulled her in again for a quick, feverish kiss. “i love you,” he rasped, staring deep into her riveting eyes.

“i love you, luke.”

their admiration could only grow from there. 

or so they thought.

[voxslays]

4 MORANT — POPPY PLAYTIME

SUMMARY: How the Poppy Playtime characters would react if the player somehow died in the factory after gaining their affections. PAIRINGS: The Doctor x Reader, Doey x Reader (platonic), Poppy x Reader (platonic), Kissy x Reader (platonic), Dogday x reader, Mommy Longlegs x reader.

THE DOCTOR

ꨄ When Harley hears the news of your death, he can’t help but feel the anger rise within his metallic body. He was ‘friends’ with the prototype—and Harley was one of the most powerful toys in the factory! How could this have happened so easily?

ꨄ Harley pushes himself back into his experiments, more motivated than ever. What experiments, you may ask? A solution to bring you back from the dead.

DOEY

ꨄ Angry. Kevin starts to come out as the other two wallow in frustration and self-regret. It doesn’t help that in Doey’s eyes, it’s all Poppy’s fault. She’s just ruined everything, hasn’t she? First safe haven and everyone inside, and now you?

ꨄ After you’re gone Doey more than likely turns into his rabid, monstrous form, consuming anyone (or toy) in his way. He Will avenge your death, with the others help or not.

POPPY

ꨄ Absolutely shocked. You had made it this far and she hadn’t expected you to die so easily, although she no doubt blames herself. Poppy would feel guilty about it. Maybe if she hadn’t pushed you so hard, you wouldn’t have lost focus and met your brutal end.

ꨄ But Poppy is a survivor, and to be a survivor in Playtime co. you have to push your emotions down—which is exactly what she does. She’ll never forget you though, no matter how hard she tries.

KISSY

ꨄ Absolutely heartbroken. To kissy, you were her best friend, and biggest supporter. She might not have been able to talk, but it was like you could just see what was going on behind those big, beady black eyes of hers. You truly saw her.

ꨄ Kissy constantly looks at one of the framed photos she has with you (kind of like what she did with that child in chapter three), never really allowing herself time to heal…

DOGDAY

ꨄ You were one of the strongest people he knew. You found him when he was chained up in the prison, stitched him up, and carried him away from the smiling critters. So when he hears the news of your death, he is more than a little surprised.

ꨄ I’d like to think Dogday grieves quietly. He seems mature enough to realize that crying won’t get him anywhere, but at the same time, he’s doing it alone in safe heaven when nobody is listening.

MOMMY LONGLEGS

ꨄ Incandescently enraged. After the hour of joy, you were one of the only people who didn’t fear her. Actually, she felt valued. You beat her challenges fair and square—which made her admittedly angry, but once you showed her kindness? She vowed to protect you.

ꨄ Once you’re gone, all the ‘beautiful emerald,’ as you had once called it, was gone from her eyes—leaving them charcoal black. Like Doey, she will feast on anyone in her way.

[fuckincrow]

Olfactophilia

summary: You're dating Homelander and he's horny for your scent, pretty much porn without plot. AFAB reader, gender neutral.

warnings: homelander is a warning on his own, dubcon, scent kink, somnophilia, homelander is a pervert, dry humping, oral (fem receiving), established relationship, canon homelander behaviour

┈┈┈┈┈◦•✩•◦┈┈┈┈┈

Homelander was not a good partner. One could hardly call him a boyfriend, whatever your endeavor with him was did not seem like a normal relationship. It was scary, you were scared of him, knowing he was at the verge of a homicidal tantrum on most days. And despite this, the only times you had witnessed his anger had been directed at others. A fellow supe, an unlucky intern, maybe Ashley. Mostly Ashley, you always thought that woman deserved a raise. But his feelings toward you were... different. It wasn't a normal kind of love, more of a dependency. You saw it in his eyes whenever you touched him, that slight shift of expression, the way his muscles tensed up and his breathing became ever so slightly faster. Maybe that was part of the allure, the fact you could render this monster useless with a few caresses and honeyed words. As long as he didn't realise how weak he actually was for you, you'd be fine.

You never liked sleeping in his penthouse, it was too much. The American memorabilia was almost comical, although you'd never commented on it, knowing it would probably upset him. It was hard to get in the mood when you felt George Washington staring at you, but Homelander's passion proved enough distraction. The sole reason you were in his bed was because he'd been extra needy lately, eventually you got tired of him showing up at your house unannounced, so you simply caved and temporarily moved to the Tower.

As you try to get some rest, you feel a cool breeze hit the back of your neck, followed by the silent pitter patter of his feet against the carpet, like a cat sneaking back home. He always took the window, he thought he was being stealthy when he flied in, but he always managed to wake you. Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose. The next thing you feel was the warmth of his body against your back, the padded suit kind of uncomfortable against whatever skin your pyjamas left exposed, it was like he was glued to that thing. In fact, you had only seen him fully naked once or twice. Since you don't hear any greeting, you assume he thinks you're asleep, and so you did just that; go back to sleep.

★・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★ ・・・・・・★

You were so close, too close. He never could get enough of it. Homelander moves to rest his nose against your neck, sniffing your skin. You hadn't showered tonight, just how he liked it. His enhanced senses only made him get a bigger enjoyment out of your natural musk, specially in the summer, when sweat built up under your armpits, under your breasts, the bases of your feet. "(Name)?" He calls out in a soft voice, testing the waters. No answer. After a few moments, he slowly removes his gloves, carefully placing them on the night table. His hand sneaks on top of your waist, a fairly normal gesture, but it slowly travels upward. His fingers travel over your armpit, collecting some sweat. For a moment he just stares at his two fingers, his breathing growing a little heavier just from the knowledge of what he's done. Not out of shame, you're his to do whatever he wants with after all, but the fact this scent he loves so much now coated his own skin. Homelander brings the two digits to his nose, taking a good, long sniff, and breathing out in pleasure. He could already feel the bulge straining against his suit, painfully uncomfortable. "Fuck..." He muttered, now fully pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass, his face buried in your neck like he was trying to inhale every last pheromone you exuded, his hips pathetically humping you from behind. He couldn't care less if you woke up right now, surprisingly self aware of how messed up he was for grinding against you like a dog, but he couldn't stop. Your smell drove him insane. It was your fault for laying in his bed like that, without having showered.

Nearly two minutes of this went on before you stopped pretending to sleep. You had caught onto every little move, it wasn't like you were going to stop him. If he was going to get off on your sweat so be it, you wouldn't be the one to risk one of his temper tantrums against you. What you didn't like was how close he was to your core, inevitably making you wet from the friction, which slowly got quicker as his huffs got louder.

"John."

The mention of his name, his real name, made his blood run cold. Homelander stopped completely, as if stopping his movement now would somehow make you forget what had been going on since he arrived. You turned around to look at him, his face was equally flustered and shameless. You knew him enough that his embarrassment didn't come from a place of morals or a general idea of consent, it was purely because you saw him as he was; needy. Human.

You slowly shift to face him properly, his lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with puppy dog eyes, if you didn't know any better you could've said he was being gentle. Your hand rakes through his blond curls and he nearly melts at the action, his breath briefly hitching when you tug down on them. The action is a command, one he understands immediately, and without the need for words he removes the sheets from your body and lowers your pyjama bottoms along with your underwear down to your ankles, his eagerness practically tears them apart (it wouldn't be the first time).

Homelander lived for moments like this one, the sight of your cunt in front of his face, the smell of your wetness invading his nostrils. For a moment he's left a little starstruck, running his fingers slickly up your hole, letting your fluid act as lubricant as he caresses your clit. The contact earns a little whimper from you, the sound making his stomach flip. He would've teased you for it, but he's not a patient man, and the moment he hears that little sound he's pressing his entire face against your mound, the death grip on your thighs keeping you fully spread. His tongue is fast, his nose hitting your clit whenever he moves, and slowly but surely your breaths become pants, whimpers and moans falling from your lips and only making him more eager. He doesn't bother hiding how he's rutting against the mattress, you believe he's doing it purely out of instinct. Your hips buck forward chasing friction, and a muffled groan from him sends perfect vibration up your core, tugging his hair in response.

You've orgasmed a few times and you're ready to ask him to stop now that you're satisfied when you hear a crack in his voice, followed by a long, drawn out moan and a shaky breath that follows suit. Your mind still a little foggy from the climax, you sit up to look at him. "John?" He simply looks up at you, panting a little, a warm and wet spot between his thighs. It takes you a moment to register the fact he's creamed his pants just from eating you out, and if you weren't this exhausted the thought alone would be enough to rile you up for round two.

"You're welcome." You say with a little grin, chuckling as he practically collapses against your chest, burying himself between your breasts and merely humming in response. Next time he'll just wake you.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Devout

Guardian Angel alternative POV, or Jason Todd is the Arkham Knight, and he can't stop himself from watching you, from clawing his way into the cracks of your life in a twisted, mangled mirror of what he used to be ~3.5k words

CW: Jason commits a few murders, some gore, stalking, some religious imagery for fun

Jason Todd shouldn't be watching you. He knows it's wrong, knows he shouldn't be perched on the shadowy rooftop across from your apartment building, staring intently into your windows.

He knows. He knows. But he's doing it anyway– been doing it for weeks.

You haven't noticed once, so wrapped up in your own life, your peace of mind that no one would break the sanctity of your own home that you don't even consider closing your blinds.

He thinks you should know better. Gotham is tainted– he is tainted– yet you never spare a glance over your shoulder when he follows you down the street, never linger on that sixth sense that screams that you're being watched.

You pick up on his presence on the rare occasion, he thinks. The days you walk home quicker or the nights you actually slam your blinds shut makes him wonder if you do know you're being watched. But then you go back to normal, brush off every sign and every lingering feeling that something isn't right.

It almost makes him angry, sometimes, that you'd be so careless with your safety. But everything makes him angry now. It's a constant, tight grasp in his chest, the righteous fury he has against the world, against the city and its filth, against Batman.

The anger makes him reckless, or maybe he's just cocky. Maybe he wants you to know he's there. Jason doesn't let himself wonder why he does it. He might just be a masochist. He might just miss you. But he opens the faulty window to your living room that he knows squeaks and never quite locks right.

The first time he breaks into– visits your apartment while you're asleep, he doesn't touch a thing. He just takes in everything that's you, cleanses his fractured soul in the space he used to know like the back of his hand. The trinkets that sit on your counters. The paintings on the wall. The color of the blankets thrown over your couch.

He doesn't touch anything the second time, either. Or the third. The fourth time, though, he picks over the photos you keep on your shelves, the books you leave lying around. He moves them, just slightly. Just to see if you'll notice.

You don't. Not really. Not until the eighth time. He doesn't know why he does this either. He just does. He picks up your keys from where you usually keep them and moves them. It's something you can't deny. Something tangible and real and clear, an unyielding truth. He was here. He exists, and he can affect your life, change it with his hands.

(It's the first time he feels like he's truly alive since the asylum, the first time there's more than just revenge and watching you from afar, even if he feels like he's corrupting something that's only meant to be seen and not touched by impure, broken hands)

If your keys being displaced affects you, well, you don't show it for more than a few moments. And that bothers him. You might not know he's here– alive– and maybe he's not ready for you to, but he's still a part of your life, isn't he?

So he gets bolder. He doesn't want to scare you, not really. But he can't help but dig his nails into the parts of your life he can change. It starts simple, innocent. You were annoyed when you left your kitchen, out of sugar, just another thing on top of everything else you have to deal with.

And he wanted to help. Like he used to. It was easy to get a bag of sugar, even easier to sneak into your kitchen. He leaves just enough for a few days, just enough to get you through the week, enough that you'll think you misremembered how much was left.

And he should have left it at that. But he's never been good at doing things halfway, especially when it comes to you. So he fixes your apartment up while you're at work. Makes sure your window doesn't squeak, your shower doesn't rattle, your oven actually heats up. All things he's heard you try to get your landlord to fix.

He makes a note to give your landlord a visit as he's looping the footage in your cameras over, effectively erasing any evidence of who he is.

Honestly, he's proud of you for finally doing something about him, it's just a shame he has the skills to outmatch your attempts to figure out his identity. Not that any pictures of him would do any good. He's still nameless in Gotham as the Arkham Knight, and if he's not wearing a mask while he's easily picking the new lock on your apartment window, his hood and ballcap do the job of hiding his face just as well.

He thinks he could let it go on like this forever, just doing things for you in the shadows, never revealing himself. At least until he's routinely following you home from work one night, and he sees you get tugged into a dark, lonely alley. He recognizes the man that hauls you off the faux safety of the streets, the one that's lifting a shaky hand and a gun to wave it, demanding your possessions.

Murphy is a nobody in Gotham, just another gambling addicted alcoholic that takes work from whatever rouge is paying the most that week. Jason more or less only recognizes him because he lives on the third floor of your apartment building, but it's clear you don't know who the man snatching your things is.

The Arkham Knight resigns himself to stealing your wallet and phone back after you've gotten home, to keep himself out of your sights for as long as he can. That was the plan.

But there's a flicker in Murphy's eyes, a consideration– a passing thought that Jason can't ignore, one he's seen a million times. Maybe it's the idea that he could get more from you, or maybe he's realizing you've seen his face and wants to get rid of any witnesses, whatever it is, Jason isn't going to let it happen.

The Arkham Knight doesn't hesitate to drop himself between you and the gun. He breaks Murphy's arm without even thinking about it, effectively disarming him as he kicks the gun away from him. The sound of his bones breaking is loud, but Jason doesn't register it as something to be sickened by until he turns and sees the nausea and horror written plainly on your face.

Honestly, maybe he should be more disgusted with himself. He's just sent a man into shock, revealed himself to you in a way that's not at all comforting. But he doesn't care. No one was going to save you. No one but him. He protected you, and it's not like Bruce Batman– it's not like broken bones are uncommon in Gotham.

You take a step back. He steps towards you, drawn to you. He can't help it. He shouldn't. But his head is spinning, and he hasn't been this close to you since before the asylum. You look tired, older, but no less beautiful than he remembers.

"Who are you? What do you want," You snap at him.

Jason wants to praise you for your bravery, as fake as it is. It's a good tactic, to try and get him talking. He doesn't understand why you look so uneasy of him, though. He got you out of a bad situation, even if he's wearing military-grade armor and a mask that glows in the darkness of the alley, shouldn't you feel grateful? Safe? Happy?

He tilts his head, trying to read you. Would you feel better if he offered to walk you home? "I saved you," he tries, the modulator making his voice sound flatter than he intends to. The Arkham Knight silently curses himself. He should just leave. Should have shot your attacker from the roof without you ever seeing him. He's being emotional now, irrational under your gaze.

"You've been following me. You're the one who's been in my apartment," you accuse, eyes darting like you're trying to find an escape in the dead end alley.

He stiffens. Huh. Clever thing. You've always been too smart for your own good. A part of him wants to deny it, pretend he's just some passing good doer in a mask, pretend that he's some kind of knight, an angel here to shield you from harm.

The notion almost makes him laugh, "Have I," he prompts instead with all the air nonchalance. He wonders if you'll drop it then, actually thank him for stepping in and helping you. You don't.

"Yes," You say instead, voice low like it's a secret– a confession, "You have."

Jason finds himself impressed at your stubbornness, if not a little unnerved by your recklessness in confronting the supposed stranger you believe is breaking into your home alone. He has to give you credit for piecing it together, but who else, if not a freak in body armor, would be letting themselves into your apartment without a word just to fix what's broken?

He nods, unsure of what to do. You weren't supposed to figure it out, but you have. And now there's consequences.

The Arkham Knight turns his back to you, making a show of gathering your phone and wallet before standing and facing you again. He walks closer to you, each step measured and calculated. He holds your belongings out to you, a twisted, mirrored version of some kind of sacred offering.

He studies you as you grab at them, trying to tug them from his unyielding grip. There's bags under your eyes. He can practically see your pulse jumping under your skin.

You're less than a foot away, and Jason basks in that distance, how light he feels now that you're only an arm's reach away. He could brush his knuckles over your cheek, dip his head to take in the scent of your hair, kiss the hollow of your throat the same way he used to.

He does none of those things. Because you don't see Jason Todd. You only see a threat, a monster, some kind of demon that clawed their way out of the shadows and cracks that litter Gothams hallowed corners.

He cocks his head, letting go of your wallet and phone while greedily drinking down the color of your eyes in the dim light of the alley, "And if I have?"

"I'll go to the police," You tell him, defensive, and he wants to laugh as you shove your wallet and phone back into your pocket.

"They can't help you," he grits out, and it's the truth. No one knows who he is yet, what his plans are. Even if you told someone, whatever description you give won't be enough to find him.

"They can contact Batman," you bite out, and that does earn you a laugh. You really think Bruce can do anything? That Batman has any chance of standing between him and you? Batman couldn't even find– couldn't even save–

"He can't help you either," The Arkham Knight tells you. He gives into his desire to touch you then, partly in anger that you still believe in Batman and partly because he just misses you. He pats your cheek, but doesn't let himself linger. "Get home," is all he says before he grapples into the night.

He follows you back to your apartment from the rooftops and notes how you avoid getting too close to any more alleys. But, it's not until you're safe in your bed that he goes looking for Murphy– that he goes to finish the job.

The creep's nursing his broken arm in his dingy apartment when The Arkham Knight gets to him. He doesn't make it quick, but it is quiet. (It's difficult to scream when you're choking on your own severed tongue, after all) He brings down fire and fury and vengeance for daring to lay a hand on you and leaves nothing behind but a corpse.

Murphy's brutal death is swept under the rug by the GCPD, which Jason shouldn't be surprised by. Just another mob death, the tiny obituary in the paper reports. You don't even register the death in your apartment building. He doesn't blame you for that. Not when he knows he's scaring you.

He's getting careless, sloppy. He wants you to catch glimpses of him now, he wants you to know he's watching. It's sick. He knows that, knows it so well that it claws in the back of his throat when he breaks into your apartment to fix your fan.

He's guilty about it, sometimes. It's a pressing weight on his shoulder even when he's trying to help. So, he redoubles his efforts.

He sneaks into your room and stuffs six hundred dollars into the emergency fund you keep under your bed. He sends you flowers, fills your gas tank, finally visits your landlord, and pays off your rent for the next six months. (He's already bought you a better, newer apartment, he just hasn't figured out how to tell you that)

He knows it's all wrong, but sometimes, he doesn't feel guilty at all. He wants to do things for you, that's not a lie. He wants to do everything and anything you could ever want or ask for.

He starts letting you catch flashes of him outside your window, moves your things around just out of the sheer curiosity of what you'll do. He can't justify that, because it does nothing to protect you. But he does it anyway. The Arkham Knight needs you to know he holds a spot in your life, even if it's not as Jason Todd anymore.

He's getting bolder, much too comfortable. There's times you almost walk into your apartment as he's leaving gifts on your counter, times when you wake up and walk into your kitchen just seconds after he forces himself out your window.

He's going to get caught if it keeps going on like this. But he can't bring himself to worry or care. His plans are coming together, and while he doesn't exactly know where you fit into them yet, he knows he doesn't trust anything or anyone enough to leave you to your own devices once he unleashes his legions upon Gotham and her failure of a saviour.

He never seems to do the right thing when it comes to you, at least not since he came back. But saving you– guarding you against the vile filth of the world– that can't be wrong. He'd do anything to keep you as you are, untouched by all the cruelties Gotham has to offer. It's an unwavering, righteous mission he has commanded unto himself.

It's why he reacts the way he does when three men break into your apartment.

He was late. He always seems to be late when you're involved. He had just finished overseeing the arrival of tanks and men into Miagani Tunnel, just dragged himself halfway across the city for the slightest chance to catch a glimpse of you in your apartment, when he catches sight of it.

Your window– open. You never keep it open. Dread washes down his spine, and when he gets close enough to see the man pointing a gun towards the floor– towards you– he just reacts.

He shuts down, becomes nothing but instinct, and he brings hell on to Earth in your name.

He's clinical. He doesn't hesitate to shoot the man aiming a gun to your head through his temple. If the man were alone, he would have shot the gun out of his hand, but there's two other targets, and he needs to eliminate any threats to your life first.

He climbs through your window with the ease of a man who's done it hundreds– thousands of times. You haven't moved to get up. It concerns him, but he's angry right now, so, so angry he doesn't even consider ending this quickly.

Everyone tries to take something from him. He keeps losing. If he didn't come to watch– see you tonight, he would have lost you too. The very thought makes his vision blur red, his ears ring.

It's not a fight, what happens next. It's a death penalty. The Arkham Knight is a weapon, and he proves it with each hit. He's efficient, brutal, and purposeful with each movement. He doesn't flinch at the blood that splatters on his armor, doesn't stop even when fluids and flesh start to stick to the knuckles of his gloves.

He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, until the only hearts left beating in your desecrated apartment are his and yours.

Then, and only then, does the blood pounding through his veins start to cool. It's only then, does he turn to look at you. He expects to meet your terrified gaze, but you haven't moved, still laying on the floor. It makes his heart clench. What's wrong with him? He just– while you–

He shakes his head, slowly tugging his gloves off and stuffing them into his belt. He walks over to you, kneels carefully to your side, and watches you breathe. He matches the slow rhythm of your shoulders rising and falling, and then he helps you sit up.

You're responsive to that, at least. The Arkham Knight presses his hands to your face, waiting for something. He doesn't know what, just anything. Some kind of sign. A message of what he's supposed to do. How he can make this all better.

When you finally open your eyes, they're hazy, not quite reactive. It makes him angry all over again. You got hurt. He wasn't here.

"Saved me again," you murmur, and his throat tightens. He failed you. Yet here you are, spouting words that make it sound like he's done something good.

He runs his thumb over your cheek, savoring the feel of your skin, soothing himself and you as he reassures himself that you're still here– still alive. But you aren't safe.

It's all he can think about. He saved you, but how long until you're in danger again? What if he's not quick enough this time? What if he's not there? What if– what if– haunts him. It weighs heavier than the nightmares that plague him when he finally has to succumb to sleep.

He makes the decision then and there to take you away from here, away from the rot and the fester to some place where it can never touch you again.

He picks you up, cradles you to his chest like you're made of shattered, stained glass and tarnishing silver, but nonetheless precious. You're talking, and he's answering, but he hardly registers what either of you are saying. His mind is working over plans, where he's going to take you, the guards he'll need to recruit to watch over you when he can't, which ones he trusts the most.

Jason only tunes back in when you point out that he could hurt you. It's funny, in a way. After everything he used to be to you, after everything he's done for you, he could still hurt you. He tips his head down to really look at you, the cloudy, exhausted look on your face, the heaviness of your eyes as you struggle to keep watching him.

He can't find it in himself to lie, so, he tells you, maybe he could hurt you. He tells you that he wouldn't like it. (And it's the truth)

Maybe you recognize that, because you drop your head to his shoulder and let your eyes fall shut. The Arkham Knight never wavers in his steps, mapping the path to the apartment he'd purchased in your name in his head. It's not perfect, not filled with everything you deserve quite yet, but it'll do the job for now.

Something in him simultaneously softens and hardens when your breathing goes even and slow against him, and he curls his fingers tighter into your skin. You're weak. Weaker than him. Too naive and too soft for what's going to come.

There's no other fate for you than this now. He'll have to take care of you, protect you from it all, from all the evil that festers in Gotham, even if that includes him.

He lets the mission engrave itself into his heart– into the fabric of his very soul and right next to his revenge. You're going to be safe. He is going to keep you safe, and he'll throw himself into fire to see it done.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Filthy

Summary- Eddie gets a stomach dropping call from you, asking to pick you up and take you home from the party you were invited to. As soon as he arrives, he can see just how awful your night must’ve been. *i was informed that there’s two definitions for what a ‘Pig Party’ is so for context, a pig party is where guys only invite ‘unattractive’ girls*

Genre- Hurt/Comfort

Warnings- mentions of sa (nothing explicit), awful frat guys doing awful things

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @gvf23 @wheels-of-despair @goatsmcgee @flawiette

(if you’d like to be added to the tag list please let me know 🖤)

Word Count- 4.6k

“That’s not fair!” Grant whined from his spot at the lunch table, “Why do you get to go to some big college party and not us?!”

“Because,” You had said once again with an eye roll, “I was the only one that got invited. Besides, it’s supposed to be a date. I think?”

“You think?” Jeff asked after sipping from his can of Pepsi.

“Yeah, i mean the guy didn’t ask officially if i wanted to go as a date, he just said i looked like i’d fit in and he’d love to bring me.”

“Who even is this guy?” Eddie asked with a shrug, his arms crossed over his chest.

“His names Chris, i met him at the mall last weekend. Why, you mad he got to me first?” You said with a grin, noticing the dusting of pink on the apples of Eddie’s cheeks the moment you mentioned your college boys name.

“No, i’m asking because we’ve never met the guy, and to be honest with you… i don’t think he’d walk up to any random girl and ask them to go to some party with him.”

The table went quiet for a moment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone easily giving away your anger.

“Dude, i’d shut it if i were you.” Gareth said quietly to Eddie.

“No,” You said as you leaned back on your chair, eyebrows furrowed in frustration and your arms crossed over your chest as you waited for a response from Eddie, “I want him to explain himself. What, am i not pretty enough to get approached by college guys?”

“I didn’t say that!” Eddie argued.

“What is it then, are you jealous of him? Or maybe you’re just pissed because i got invited to a college party and you only show up when they need drugs?”

“Hey, quiet down (y/n).” Jeff whispered to you, trying his best to calm the situation down before it got any worse.

“No! I’m tired of you always being such an asshole whenever shit like this happens. You’re supposed to be my friend, you’re supposed to be happy for me when things like this happen but every fucking time you always get so pissy about it.” You stood up quickly, the metal legs of your chair screeching on the linoleum floor as you grabbed your bag, “Talk to me again when you decide to stop being a child.”

You hit his shoulder hard as you walked past, the boys staring as they watched you exit the cafeteria and enter the halls through the double doors. Gareth turned to Eddie with an annoyed look in his eyes,

“Again? Really?”

“What?!” Eddie yelled out, “What did i do?!”

“Eddie, she’s right. Every time something good happens to her, especially when it’s got something to do with some guy, you manage to get yourself bitched at because you’re too much of a pussy to actually tell her you like her.”

“I do not!” Eddie argued back. The raised eyebrows and frustrated stares were enough to tell Eddie that he really did do the same thing every time. Without even noticing. “…Do i?”

“Yes!” The three shouted in unison.

“That’s what happens when you don’t accept that you like her…” Jeff chuckled to himself, teasing Eddie as the other boys joined in a laugh.

“Oh please, like you guys don’t get jealous about stuff like that too.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but at least we don’t have to see and talk to the girls we like every day. You do. That’s why it’s different.” Grant joked, clearly trying to get a rise out of Eddie.

“Me and (y/n) are just friends. That’s it. Always have been… Always will be.” Eddie sighed.

“You hesitated.” Gareth chuckled.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re wrong, we’re friends. I don’t know why i get like that, i just can’t help it.” Eddie shrugged and slumped in his seat, so unsure of himself.

The thought of you being with him had never crossed his mind, but the signs were there. He thought back on all the other times he’d been an asshole to you over something like this, and the guys were right, it always had something to do with you being involved with some guy.

“Whatever man, if you gotta tell yourself that to be happy then so be it.” Gareth smiled and downed the last of the can of Dr. Pepper in front of him before standing to clear the table. The other boys followed suit, clearing the lunch table before grabbing their things and heading off to class.

Eddie was never the school type, but now he couldn’t keep his thoughts straight. All he could think about was you.

Did he like you?

He couldn’t. Like he had always said, you were just friends. Every guy gets a little irritated when their friend blows them off to hang out with someone else. Every guy gets jealous when hearing about how good a date was the night before. Every guy can’t help but get nervous when their friend asks how they look when trying on a new dress. Every guy gets tense when their arms get grabbed to keep together in the halls.

Didn’t they?

All he could think about was every single interaction the two of you had since you’ve met, and wether he wanted to admit it or not, every single thing was an indication of a crush. And he hated knowing that not only were the guys right to be teasing him about something so childish, but he hated knowing how you must’ve felt whenever he treated you badly.

The rest of the day was a blur.

He managed to finish classes, drive home, and lay in bed staring at the ceiling without any perception of time. He didn’t even notice Wayne calling into his room nearly 30 minutes ago to tell him dinner was ready.

It consumed him.

You. How he treated you. And how he shouldn’t have been stupid enough for even himself to not notice how much he really liked you. All he had hoped was that this was something he could apologize for. It was definitely deserved.

As Eddie sighed and finally sat up on the edge of his bed, he jumped in surprise from the sudden ringing of the phone in the hall. He checked the clock and saw that it was already 7 pm, and at this point Wayne would’ve been gone for work.

He stood and stretched, wandering into the hall and taking the phone off of the handset at its fourth ring.

“Hello?” He groaned out.

“Eddie?…”

His attention was grabbed immediately. As soon as he heard your voice whimper his name on the other end he was filled with a mixture of relief and concern.

“Hey, (y/n), are you ok?”

“No…” He could hear a faint sniffle, and the shakiness of your voice was indication enough for him to tell that tears had been shed, “Can you please come get me?”

“Yeah! Yes, of course, where are you?” Eddie frantically searched for his keys, pulling the spiral cord as far as it could go into his room as he grabbed his jacket.

“I’m at that party… 247 Stewart Street, it’s just past the mall…”

“I’ll be right there! Stay put ok? I’ll be there in less than 15, i promise.”

Eddie hung up the phone and quickly ran outside to the van, shoving the key into the ignition and pulling out as fast as he could onto the gravel road. He didn’t know what happened, but he did know that whatever happened to make you so uncomfortable and worried enough to call him of all people it must’ve been bad.

He sped out onto the road, not even bothering to pay attention to the stop signs unless he knew there was a cop waiting around the corner. He didn’t want to take any chances of anything else happening, or god forbid something else happening to you. Eddie was just thankful that he could tell exactly which house it was on the street.

It was a larger house near the end of the street, cars filled the driveway and out on the lawn he saw a few girls comforting each other as one stood in the middle. Her cheeks were red and her eyes filled with tears. Whatever happened inside, it couldn’t be good.

He parked the van in front of the driveway, blocking in the freshly waxed cars that were parked so neatly with his van. It may have been a shitbox, but it made a damn good barricade.

Eddie couldn’t help the anger bubbling up inside. This was more than just a little tiff happening and you needed him for backup, you gave him a cry for help and there was no way in hell he was going to ignore it. He took one last deep breath to calm himself, or at least to keep him from immediately throwing punches as soon as the front door opened.

His fist pounded on the door and he stood there and waited with his arms crossed over his chest. At least he knew that given his reputation he could be pretty intimidating. The door slowly opened and a college age looking boy opened the door with a smile and a half filled red solo cup in hand,

“Can i help you?” He smirked, looking Eddie up and down.

“Where’s (y/n)?” Eddie said sternly, more like a demand than a question for whoever this boy was and the gaggle of clones behind him.

“Oh!” He laughed, “Yeah, her. She locked herself in the bathroom down the hall,” The boy stepped back and held his arm out to welcome Eddie inside, pointing him in the direction of the door beneath the stairs, “She’s all yours.” He laughed before taking a swig from his cup.

Eddie wandered inside, not before ‘accidentally’ bumping into this stranger and causing whatever drink was left in the cup to spill all down the front of his polo.

The other guys inside were all the same. Drunk, rich, and certainly not paying any attention to any of the girls that they had asked to come to this party. Eddie noticed a few others sitting on the den couch together silently.

He leaned into the bathroom door and rapped his knuckles against it gently,

“(y/n)? It’s Eddie, you in there?”

Without a second to catch his breath the door swung open and your arms wrapped tightly around his torso. He couldn’t get a good look at your face, but your eyes were swollen and your cheeks red. You must’ve been crying in there until he had come to get you.

“Please take me home…” You whispered up to him without even as much as looking at him.

His arm went around your shoulder to guide you out the door, your face looking down at the ground, shielding yourself from the smiling and snickering faces of the boys around you. Eddie could feel your arms grip him tighter as one of them said ‘Bye (y/n)’ in a mocking tone.

To say he was pissed would be the least of it.

Eddie slowly walked you out to the van, opening the passenger side door for you and helping you inside. He had finally noticed how put together you looked, how your makeup had been smeared down your cheeks from the tears, how your dress was bunched up at the end in your hands. He needed to know what the hell happened inside to not only cause you so much despair, but the other girls too.

He walked around to the drivers side and slammed his door, sitting there in silence for a moment before turning over to you,

“What happened in there (y/n)?” You could hear how concerned he was, but having to repeat the events from earlier would’ve made you break down again.

“Nothing… Just please, take me home…” You said quietly.

“No.” Eddie said angrily, grabbing your attention, “Tell me what happened.”

“Eddie please…”

“(y/n), the last time we talked today you stormed off so pissed at me it seemed like you never wanted to breathe the same air as me. You call me, sobbing, telling me to come get you at a place i know you’ve never been to. That house is full of drunk assholes and every other girl here is in the same position you are, meanwhile they’re all inside being buddy-buddy and having the time of their lives. What did they do to you?”

He needed to hear it from you that you were alright, but your silence was only scaring him more. Your eyes shut tight as you took a deep breath, a few stray tears falling down your cheeks as you thought over the last hour once more in your head. It was so difficult to say, but you knew Eddie wouldn’t leave you alone until he knew what the problem was.

“(y/n), please.” He was pleading with you to speak, “Did they hurt you? Did they… touch you?”

“No.” You whimpered.

“Tell me.” Eddie wasn’t asking, he was demanding. Not for your own good, but for those assholes inside.

You took one last deep breath, your head resting in your hand as your arm propped you up against the passenger side door.

“Everything was fine at first. That guy Chris, the one from the mall, picked me up and kept telling me about how it was gonna be such a great night.” You paused for an eye roll and a quick wipe away of the tears starting to pool in your eyes again, “All the guys inside already had their dates there, and they’re all super nice girls, and we all really got along so we were with each other having a good time while the guys were in the other room. They said they were getting the last big thing set up for all of us.” Eddie listened so intently on every word, giving you all the time you needed and as many breaks to sniffle or recollect your thoughts as you needed, “When they called us into that main dining room the table was set up and in the middle of the room…” You paused and shut your eyes tight, shaking your head in disbelief that something like that had actually been thought out and planned by those assholes, “there was a pig that had a crown on it and they tied a name tag to it that said ‘Michelle’. It was a pig party and i guess she was the ‘winner’.” You said with air quotes, looking out Eddie’s window and seeing her crying in the yard, quickly pointing over to her. “That’s her. She’s really nice, she’s a freshman studying Biochem at their college.”

To say Eddie was enraged would be the least of it.

How dare they humiliate not only you, but all those other girls they had invited. Eddie knew how excited you were about this, and he can’t imagine how all those other girls felt when you finally realized the real reason why they were invited. Not one of them deserved to be treated this way, and he was shocked to see how pretty all those girls were. They were people too, and no one deserves to feel that way.

Eddie peered out his window and saw Michelle and her friends start to calm her down. Each one of them was dressed up so nicely, their hair and makeup done. They must’ve been getting ready for hours for this, only to be shot down the moment they set foot through the door.

He’d handle this.

“I’ll be back.” He said through gritted teeth, quickly reaching over and grabbing something from the glovebox before slamming the door behind him.

“Eddie…” You said with concern, not wanting this to turn into another night where the cops were called, “Eddie.” You followed behind him quickly, leaving the van after him.

He turned to you and grabbed your shoulders,

“(y/n). I can handle this.” Eddie looked into your eyes, and you could sense that though he wanted to rip them a new one, he wasn’t going to end up in handcuffs by the end of the night, “Tell the other girls they can wait in the van, there should be enough seats, and just wait for me. Ok?”

You took a slow, deep breath, nodding your head as you glanced over to Michelle and the other girls on the lawn,

“Ok. I’m trusting you to not get yourself in trouble again.”

“I won’t.” Eddie flashed you a smile that told you all you needed to hear. He can take care of this.

You parted ways, you wandering over to the group of girls on the lawn as Eddie walked back up to the front door. Just as he was about to knock, the girls sitting on the sofa inside had gathered and made their way outside, flinching a bit as they saw Eddie at the door. He offered them a sympathetic smile as they walked over to you and the group of girls on the lawn. Eddie put on his game face, and he was thankful his over the top acting from DMing so many sessions would finally pay off.

“Hey!” He said with a smile to the same guy that answered the door for him, “(y/n) just told me all about this party,” He leaned in with a cheeky smile still on his face, “you were really able to pull this off that easily huh?”

“Yeah man!” He replied, obviously drunk, “And it was so easy too! Who are you by the way?”

“Oh, I’m Michael,” Eddie was quick to think up a fake name, “she called me to come pick her up but honestly… It’s too funny to not call up my friends and tell them about it.” Eddie laughed along with Chris, happy that his act was going over so well. “Can i use your phone man? The whole school needs to know about this.”

“Go ahead, in the kitchen,” Chris hiccuped as he pointed down the hall, “should be on the wall. Help yourself go this stuff too man, you’re welcome to stay.” Chris chuckled, “And you know, if you want, i can put in a good word with the head of the frat for you. We definitely could use someone like you here.”

Eddie nodded as a quick ‘thank you’ and wandered through the maze of other sloppy drunks to the kitchen phone. He recognized a few faces from a couple of deals he made over the summer, he was just hoping they didn’t recognize him. As Eddie entered the kitchen he could see the pig still in the dining room, the wooden plank with Michelle’s name on it was still hung around its neck. He was disgusted, but if he got this far, he knew the rest of the plan would work out.

Eddie took the phone off the handset and quickly dialed in Gareths number, hoping he wouldn’t take forever to pick up.

“Hello?” Gareth said, confused as to who could’ve been calling him this late.

“Hey, it’s Eddie. Call up the guys and be at the diner in 20.”

“What? Eddie, it’s like 9 o’clock at night, why?”

“I’ll explain when i get there. Something happened with (y/n) at that party, and now i’ve got a van full of girls that need some knights in shining armor.”

“Done. See you in 20.”

Eddie chuckled quietly to himself as he turned his body to the wall, making sure no one could see him punch in the number of Hawkins’ police station. They picked up on the first ring, and Eddie smiled as he placed his hand into his pocket, palming the baggie he took from the glovebox.

“Hawkins Police,” Eddie recognized the voice from his various encounters and adjusted himself to fix his voice, “what is your emergency?”

“Hi,” Eddie deepened his voice enough to make himself sound more grown up, maybe then they’d take it a little more seriously, “there’s a house just down the street from mine and they’re having some kind of party? They’re loud, they’re obnoxious, and to be frank, i wouldn’t be surprised if they were smoking some funny stuff in there too. There was smoke billowing out the upstairs window like a chimney!”

“Thank you sir, what’s the address?”

Eddie grinned wide and relayed the fraternity address back to the officer on the other end. For someone with a decent amount of run ins with them before, talking to the cops was a lot easier than he thought. Especially when he wasn’t the one in trouble.

He hung up the phone and cleared his throat, holding the baggie tight in his pocket to keep it secure as he glanced around to find the perfect hiding spot for it. As soon as he spotted one of the letterman jackets across the back of a chair he knew it was the perfect obvious spot for one of these idiots to stash a bag of weed. And enough to get them put away, at least for the night.

Eddie made himself seem so comfortable in there he figured they wouldn’t bat an eye if he had been wandering for a bit. He approached the jacket, passing the pig through the dining room as it lay underneath the table snoring away. It was so much easier than he thought it would’ve been.

Just as quickly as he came in, he made sure to get himself out of there quickly. Not before putting on his little act again as he said ‘goodbye’ to the few of them that were able to slur their words out as best as they could. With all the liquor they’ve had combined with that weed stashed in the pocket of whatever poor asshole the jacket belonged to, he was certain justice would be served. Rightfully this time.

Just before Eddie made his way out the door, Chris gave him a wave and called him over, clearly drunk. As badly as he wanted to leave, he had to keep this act up. Eddie wandered over to him with a smile on his face, grabbing Chris’ hand as he stuck it out for Eddie to take,

“Leaving? Already?”

“Yeah, i gotta get home,” Eddie groaned, “thanks for letting me use your phone, this’ll be all over the school by tomorrow.” He said with a laugh.

“Perfect.” Chris said with a smile, doing his best to keep his words clear, “And remember, if you want, i’ll put in a good word for you next year. Make sure they don’t go to hard on you with the hazing.” He said with a wink before patting Eddie on the back and going back to fill his solo cup.

Eddie nodded and swiftly made his way out the door, seeing the girls no longer on the lawn calmed his nerves a little bit. He glanced back to the house as he walked to the van, smiling big to you as he climbed into the drivers seat.

“Let’s get out of here, i called the cops so they should be here any minute.”

“Oh god, what did you do?” You groaned as he started up the van, you and the girls in the back rows of seats quickly buckling in. You made sure to warn them of Eddie driving the moment they stepped inside.

“You know,” Eddie shrugged as he made a quick u-turn to leave the subdivision, “left them a little parting gift hidden in one of their jackets.”

“You didn’t.” You couldn’t help the smile slowly tugging at your lips. Good, they deserved whatever they have coming to them. “Eddie, these are the girls .” You motioned to the group of six girls in the rows behind you, “Girls, this is Eddie. He’s gonna take us all home.” The other girls behind you offered kind smiles and quiet ‘hellos’ as Eddie smiled and nodded his head to them.

“Oh yeah, about that, change of plans.”

You snapped your head back to face him with a look of confusion on yours and the other girls faces,

“What do you mean?” You asked him, and he could hear the slight worry in your voice.

“I called some friends up, they’re gonna meet us at the diner. I know it’s not the fanciest place,” He glanced up in the rear view mirror to look at the girls in the back of the van, “but i feel bad for how those guys treated you back there. Besides, you all got dressed up and you look good, i didn’t want that to go to waste.”

The girls smiled to themselves, and even you were blushing at how sweet it was of Eddie to still make sure you had the best night that you could. Especially under the earlier circumstances.

The drive to the diner was short, and as Eddie pulled the van in you saw Gareth, Jeff and Grant leaned up against Jeff’s car in the parking lot. They had seen you from the passenger side and gave their usual smiles and waves, and you knew from the way they had looked more put together than normal that Eddie had to have mentioned there would be girls involved. They approached the van as Eddie put it into park and he quickly stepped out, rushing over to the other side to slide open the back door for the girls before opening the passenger door for you.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile as Eddie held his arm out to assist. You turned to the girls as they started to slowly make their way out of the van, “Girls, this is Jeff, Gareth and Grant,” You said as the boys approached the van with smiles on their faces as each one of the girls made their way out, “they’re friends of mine, they’re very nice.”

Each of the boys gave them a kind smile and the girls gave them one back, trying their best to make sure that they still looked good after being at that party. But they were excited to know that there were at least a few more nice guys out there, and with you vouching for them they knew that it would be so much better being around them than with those frat boys.

As you all slowly made your way inside, each of the boys with a girl on either side of them, you trailed back with Eddie as they all got more acquainted with one another.

“Hey,” You grabbed Eddie’s forearm and gently pulled him back, “thank you, for everything tonight. I know i was kind of bitchy at school today…”

“No, don’t apologize! I’m sorry for always being so pissy, i guess i just don’t know what comes over me whenever you mention stuff like that.” He shrugged, and though he knew exactly why he always acted that way, he didn’t want to drop it all on you at once. After the night you’d had, you needed something else on your mind.

“You know,” You say teasingly, taking a step closer, “i think it might be jealousy.”

“Jealous?” Eddie laughed, “(y/n), i’m not jealous.” You stared him down for a moment with a smile on your face, your arms crossing over your chest. Eddie knew when he was found out. “Ok, fine. Maybe i might be just a little bit jealous. Happy?” He smiled.

“Very.” You shrugged, taking one last step to close the gap between you two, planting a quick kiss onto his cheek, “Come on,” You grasped his arm and tugged it as you made your way to the door, “You can make it up to me with a milkshake.”

[fawnhart]

SHORT N' SWEET ݁₊ drew starkey

pairing. drew + bambi

notes. pt. 1. made this cause I love to see a man beg..

warning. none

They had just wrapped filming her final season on Outer Banks. The whole time, Bambi acted as if she wasn’t hurting inside and nailed every single take flawlessly. Drew, on the other hand, was a mess and everyone knew it.

He kept messing up his lines, forgetting his call times, and dozing off between takes. In a way, Bambi felt bad for him. But he had no right to her sympathy, at least not at the moment

Now, both back in New York, Drew for a photoshoot and Bambi back in her elementl she couldn’t help but look at him with disgust and anger.

How dare he show up?!

It was one of those nights where everything was happening all at once and nothing at all. Drew stood at Bambi’s townhome door, soaked from the rain, his hands trembling, his chest tight. His mullet was a mess, not giving a damn if paparazzi caught him. He just wanted her to listen. She stood there, arms crossed as her eyes burned with anger, hurt, maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just tired.

she had every right to be

“Please, Bambi. Please, let me in. I can’t” He cut himself off, his voice breaking just a little, the words too heavy in his chest. He couldn’t keep pretending to be fine. Not anymore.

She didn’t move, arms crossed, standing her ground. She was beautiful like that, even if her face was streaked with tears, even if her lip trembled slightly.

“You can’t just come in here after everything, Drew.” Her voice was quieter than he expected, but sharper. It made his heart twist “You think you can just say sorry and it all goes away!?”

“I’ve been a mess without you, baby. I’ve screwed everything up,” he said, his words coming out in a rush “I was… I was just scared. Scared of you and your reputation, of what people would say about us. i-” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to hold it together “I thought if I distanced myself, it would protect you.”

Bambi’s expression softened, just a little, but not enough for him to get comfortable. She was still holding that distance “You pushed me away because of what other people might think?” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word might. “And that’s supposed to be for my own good?”

He dropped his head, his eyes stinging “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was..no, I am an idiot.

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never wavered. After a long silence, she sighed, her breath shaky “And then there’s your friend” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He didn’t need to ask which friend she meant. That girl. The one who had spent more time telling Drew what a mess he was for being with her than actually being his “friend”. Drew had started to feel that insidious doubt creeping in, her words twisting around in his head like vines.

“She told you I wasn’t good enough, didn’t she?” Bambi asked, and there was a bitter edge to her voice.

“i-I didn’t believe her, baby,” Drew said quickly, his hands shaking again. He took a step forward, desperate “I never believed her. I-look, I shouldn’t have listened to her at all. I was so caught up in my own shit, and-”

“And what!? You let her tell you who I am!? Who we are!? But you were perfectly fine having sex with me?, right” she said feeling utterly and totally used

He swallowed hard, a heavy knot in his throat “I should’ve told her to back the fuck off. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve never let her put those thoughts in my mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The air in the apartment felt thick, too heavy to breathe. He finally dropped to his knees, his face flushed with the weight of it all “I love you, Bambi. Please... don’t shut me out. I need you. I can’t fix this without you.”

Her eyes flickered with pain as she stared down at him, her arms still crossed, but now her lips were pressed tightly together as she fought back more tears. She couldn’t let him see her break just yet. Not like this. Not when she was still trying to figure out whether or not she could believe him.

“You really hurt me, Drew. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned away, wiping at her eyes. She moved slowly, the silence between them stretching like a thin wire.

Drew stayed kneeling, helpless. “Please, Bambi. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do.”

She turned back to him, eyes red-rimmed but steady. “You have to prove it. You have to show me you’re not just talking. Words don’t mean anything anymore.” She paused, her gaze hardening. “And you need to cut her off. She’s clearly got it out for me, and for us, and you can’t keep her around if you want to make this right.”

He nodded immediately “I swear I will. I’ll cut her off. I’ll do anything. Just... please don’t leave me.” His voice was raw, the last of his pride crumbling.

Bambi stared at him for a long moment, and then she sighed “Fine,” she said quietly “But I’m not forgiving you tonight. I need to think about it.”

Drew’s heart sank, but he nodded, trying to be understanding, even if every fiber of him wanted to scream.

“Get up, you’re embarrassing me” He stood up slowly, and she led him into her townhome, but not without a sharp glance over her shoulder as she said, “And you’re sleeping outside tonight, With my cat.”

Drew blinked, startled. “What?”

“I’m serious. Outside. With Ms. Mocha. You can sleep on the balcony.” Her tone was final, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked past him into the closet, grabbing a blanket and tossing it in his direction.

Drew was about to protest, but the look on her face stopped him. The soft, determined way she held herself now was a reminder of why he loved her in the first place, because she never made anything easy for him. She knew her worth, even if he had forgotten for a while.

He grabbed the blanket, muttering, “I’m an idiot.”

Her lips quirked up at that, just a little. “Yeah. You are. But you’re still my idiot.” She softened then, her voice growing quieter. “you have to prove you deserve to be with me. Because I can’t go back to being second place.”

Drew nodded, his chest tight. “I swear I will. I swear.” He hesitated then added “can I atleast sleep on the couch?” he said with a weak smile

Bambi rolled her eyes, but it was playful now, the tension easing just enough for her to offer him a tiny truce. “Fine. I haven’t burned your clothes yet, consider yourself lucky.” She said heading to her room to grab some of his pajamas he had left there several times

He laughed softly, grateful for the small weird victory. He knew it was far from over, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

“missed you Mocha” he whispered as he curled up on her soft pink couch, Ms. Mocha curled up next to him with an irritated meow, Drew stared at the night sky view from her townhome, wondering how he could have been so fucking stupid. But maybe, he had a chance to make it right.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓