#im actually dropping it oops

[realkeylogger]

drew this instead of working on my computer

[xxplastic-cubexx]

They finally did it everybody they said the thing!!!!!!!

"How much do you love Charles Xavier?"

"HOW DARE YOU ASK ME SUCH A QUESTION???!!!??!!?!!??!!??!!!"

HE SAID THE THING !!!!!!!!!!

[feath-r-hopper]

whoops i disappeared for a month. heres these guys again.

[sunnybugz]

found out i might have been the other woman so get ready for some crazy angsty fanfiction in the next week or so

[minecraftwolfpup]

[alchemiclee]

do you ever reach out to someone you haven't talked to in with while, like years, and just want to let them know you were thinking of them and remembering the good times with them and wish them well, but you really hope they don't respond and just read the message and move on? I don't want to talk. i just wanted to let them know someone was thinking positive things about them and that's it. 😅

[wonderlandwalker]

Two can play (but three's more fun) | Steve Harrington x reader x Eddie Munson

stranger things masterlist / inbox

summary: when Steve catches Eddie staring a little too long at his girlfriend, he doesn’t throw a punch—he extends an invitation. And as Eddie quickly learns, Steve doesn’t just share; he teaches, with slow, filthy demonstrations. tags / content warnings: smut, just pure filth really, posessive steve, desperate eddie, a lot of swearing, I couldn't help it, maybe some repetitive words but smut vocabulary just has it's limits word count: 5.2k

a/n: I got insanely stoned and wrote this so if it came out too horny i'm sorry, also im ovulating oops. I've prolly been very inconsistent with grammar tenses but I can't be bothered to check it. I usually correct my grammar after i've already posted so the masterlist link has significantly less errors than earlier versions

The living room was bathed in the flickering glow of the TV, some forgotten horror movie playing on low volume—The Thing, maybe, or was it Halloween?—its eerie soundtrack warping under the weight of the thick, sweet-smelling haze curling through the air. 

Eddie had outdone himself with this new strain, something sticky and potent that left his limbs heavy and his usual sharp edges dulled into something languid and warm, his thoughts perhaps a bit too syrupy.

“—I know I talk a big game, man, but fuck. I have no clue what I’m doing when it actually comes down to it.”

His voice was a low mumble, words slipping out like he hadn’t meant to say them at all. He tipped his head back against the couch cushions, staring at the ceiling as if it might hold answers.

Steve blinks at him, slow and rhythmically, before snorting. “What, like… at all?”

“Yeah, man. Like—”  Eddie waves a hand vaguely, the silver of his rings glinting as he moves. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what sounds are real and which ones are fake? It’s fucking Russian roulette.”

The next reaction from Steve is immediate, no hesitation. Just a lazy, knowing smirk as he stretches his arms behind his head. “Huh. Well, once you know the difference, it becomes pretty obvious.” He pauses, just long enough to take a quick glance over Eddie’s face. “If you really need some pointers, I can ask my girlfriend if she wants to help you out.”

Eddie nearly comes crashing to the fucking floor.

Because fuck. He’s had a crush on you for, like, forever. Not that he’s ever admitted it out loud — not when Steve Harrington has a reputation for rearranging the faces of guys who so much as look at you wrong. Eddie has seen it happen: some poor asshole at a party, fingers skimming your ass as you passed, and bam — Steve’s fist in his jaw before anyone could blink. There’s even a rumour some other idiot once stared just a little too long at the way your lips wrapped around the neck of your beer bottle and then slurred, “Wanna spin the bottle?” Word is, Steve dropped him in one hit. No warning. No theatrics. Just pure, primal instinct.

So yeah, Eddie’s kept his mouth shut.

But now? Now Steve is watching him with this lazy, half-lidded expression, like he hadn’t just detonated a goddamn bomb in Eddie’s head.

“You’re fucking with me.” Eddie pleads, his voice rough.

Steve just grins — slow, deliberate — his eyes dark with something Eddie can't name. “Nah, man. She’s actually really into that kinda stuff.” His voice drops, gravel scraping over each word, and Eddie’s stomach flips “And I’d do anything for her.”

The air feels thick as Eddie’s pulse roars in his ears, his throat suddenly bone-dry. Was this a test? A trap?  Christ.  Harrington was going to be the death of him, and worse—Eddie knew he’d fucking thank him for it.

His fingers twitch at his sides. “...Yeah?”

Steve’s smile only widens, but his eyes soften. “Yeah.”

When Eddie shows up at your place the next night, he’s strung tight enough to power Hawkins twice over, his pulse hammering in his throat. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours convincing himself he’d imagined the whole conversation, that there was no way Steve Harrington just offered— 

And then you open the door.

Dressed in nothing but one of Steve’s old band tees, the fabric riding high on your thighs, you greet him with a smile that damn near stops his heart. “Hey, Eddie.”

His mouth goes dry. And before he can choke out a response, Steve is behind you, hands sliding possessively around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. And then — Jesus Christ.

The kiss Steve gives you isn’t just heated — it’s filthy. All tongue and teeth, your fingers twisting in his hair as he backs you against the doorframe, his hands already under your shirt like it’s a regular Tuesday afternoon.

Eddie’s knees nearly give out.

“Watch,” Steve murmurs against your lips when he finally breaks away, his gaze flicking to Eddie over your shoulder. His voice dark and commanding. “And pay attention.” 

Then, right there in the doorway, Steve pulls the shirt over your head — meticulously slow, like he wants Eddie to memorise every second. And, well — Eddie does.

He memorises the way your breath hitches when Steve’s fingers brush over your ribs, the way you arch into his touch, the soft, real sounds spilling from your lips as Steve’s mouth finds the top of your breasts— 

Eddie’s throat protests as he swallows, fingers twitching at his sides like he can’t decide whether to bolt or drop to his knees.

Steve notices —of course he does— and his lips curl into something dangerously close to a challenge. “You just going to stand there, Munson?” His hands slide down your hips, squeezing just hard enough to make you softly gasp. “Thought you wanted to learn.” Eddie manages to get control over his brain just long enough to answer “I— Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. I do.”

Steve hums, pleased, and spins you around to face Eddie fully, his palm splayed possessively over your stomach. “Then get over here.”

It’s not a request.

Eddie moves like a man in a trance, close enough now to feel the heat of your skin, to catch the intoxicating scent of your perfume. His gaze darts between your face and Steve’s fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your collarbone.

“First lesson,” Steve murmurs, leaning in to nip at your earlobe.  “Don’t just touch. Listen.”  His free hand reaches out, grabbing Eddie’s wrist and dragging it toward you. “Feel how she reacts.”

Eddie’s fingertips brush your waist—hesitant at first, then firmer when you shiver under his touch. His breath hitches as you lean into him, lashes fluttering when his thumb grazes the delicate curve of your ribs.

“Good.”  Steve’s voice is low, eyes locked on Eddie’s every twitch. “Now kiss her.”

Eddie’s head jerks up. “What?”

Steve’s grin is all teeth. “Unless you don’t—”

“No, I—fuck.” He surges forward, crashing his mouth against yours like a man starved. It’s messy and desperate, and he barely gets a taste before Steve yanks you back by the waist, eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.

“Jesus Christ. Not like that.”

Eddie stumbles after you as Steve kicks the door shut behind them. “It’s like you were raised by wolves.”

Eddie opens his mouth to protest—then snaps it shut. Because Steve’s right. He’s a wreck.

“What are you waiting for, a written invitation?”  Steve’s voice is rough with impatience. “Kiss her again.”

Eddie hesitates—just for a second—before lust wins the war. This time, when his lips find yours, it’s still hungry, but it’s also aware, his movements more controlled. For a heartbeat, he’s terrified Steve will deem him unworthy of you altogether and kick him back to the curb—until you moan into it, until your fists twist in his shirt and drag him closer.

Steve groans in approval against your shoulder. “That’s it,” he rasps, pressing you forward just enough that Eddie can feel your heartbeat against his chest. “Now slow down. Make her want it.”

Eddie whimpers, but obeys, pulling back just enough to tease your lower lip between his teeth before licking into your mouth like you’re water and he’s been dying of thirst.

The sound you make — the soft, wanting whine—it's the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Steve pulls you back again, but this time, there’s satisfaction in his grin. “See?”  His thumb swipes over your kiss-swollen lips, smug. “She likes it when you take your time.”

Steve doesn’t let go of you—not really. Even as he nudges you toward the couch, his palm stays glued to the small of your back, steering you like he owns every inch of space you move through. Eddie doesn’t need to be told to follow; his pulse hammers in his throat, fingers flexing like he’s already imagining the weight of you beneath them.

“Sit.” Steve’s order cracks through the air, and Eddie drops onto an armchair like his strings have been cut.

You don’t get the chance to join him. Steve catches your wrist, yanking you back against his chest instead. His mouth brushes your ear, voice a low, possessive hum: “Nah, sweetheart. You’re staying right here.” His fingers trail down your arm before guiding your hand to Eddie’s jaw. “Let him earn it.”

Eddie’s breath stutters. Christ. Up close, you’re devastating. The way your eyes shimmer with pure lust, the way your lips part—just slightly—when Steve’s fingers skim over the lace of your bra. The syrupy moan you let out when he pinches your nipple over it, just enough to make your back arch—

“See that?”  Steve’s voice is rough against your ear. “She gets loud when she’s turned on. You just have to know how to listen.” Eddie nods, swallowing hard. His hands hover over your hips like he’s afraid you’ll dissolve under his touch. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Jesus, Munson. You’re not going to break her.” He grabs Eddie’s wrist, pressing his palm flat against your stomach. “Feel how warm she is? How fucking desperate?”

Eddie’s fingers twitch. He can feel it—the rapid rise and fall of your breath, the way your skin burns under his touch.

“Now”, Steve murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder, “show me what you’ve learned.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice.

This time, when he kisses you, it’s relaxed—calculated. He licks into your mouth like he’s savouring it, one hand sliding up your ribs while the other tangles in your hair. And when you moan, when your hips jerk forward like you just can’t help it, Eddie groans against your lips like he’s just discovered fucking religion.

Steve watches, eyes dark with approval. “Better,” he rasps. Then, with a smirk: “Now get on your knees.”

Eddie freezes, and Steve arches a brow,“got a problem?”

“No—fuck, no.”  Eddie’s already sliding to the floor, knees hitting the carpet with a thud. His hands find your thighs, gripping just tight enough to feel the muscle tense under his fingers.

Steve’s smirk widens. “Good.”

The praise goes straight to Eddie’s dick.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp—and God, Eddie’s never been so hard in his life.

Steve’s voice is a murmur as he trails a path down your throat, bruises already blooming under his mouth. “Now, make her beg.”

Eddie’s breathing is ragged as he looks up at you—fuck, the way your pupils are blown wide, the way your chest rises with every shaky inhale. Steve’s fingers are still tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing a stray strand behind your ear with a tenderness that feels domestic. Your eyes meet Eddie’s just before they flutter shut, and it’s all the permission he needs. His mouth finds the inside of your knee first, lips dragging slow and hot up your skin, teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm. Steve hums, tracing your ribs and sliding your bra strap down your shoulder. His palm cups your breast as it spills free, kneading with a lazy possessiveness that has your hips jerking forward — but Eddie holds you steady, determined. 

His tongue traces past the waistband of your panties like he’s trying to memorise the shape of you, and when his eyes flick up to Steve, all he finds is lust, raw and unfiltered. So Eddie hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls, dragging it down your legs as he kisses a trail after it, reverent even in his hunger. His fingers work you with surprising precision, his gaze desperate for approval — and when he curls them just right, you gasp, arching into his touch with a moan loud enough to make Steve’s smirk falter. He wasn’t expecting that.

The slip in Steve’s control sends a thrill through Eddie, and he murmurs against your thigh, voice rough: “You sound so fucking sweet — bet you taste even better.”  Steve’s grip tightens on your hip, hard enough to bruise, but you don’t seem to mind.

He’d meant to teach. Now, he’s learning.

And the way you’re unravelling under Eddie’s touch stirs something awake inside of him. Eddie’s got a musician’s dexterity, his fingers able to coax sinful melodies from you with every twist. When you whimper Eddie’s name, Steve’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t stop him. Just watches with a gaze darker than the midnight sky itself as Eddie’s breath ghosts over you, your thighs trembling. “Please—”

The word barely leaves your lips before Eddie adds another finger, crooking them until your thighs squeeze around his wrist. He groans against your skin, resting his forehead against your leg as the vibration tears another broken sound from your throat. He fucks you with his fingers — slow and deep, then fast and relentless, like he can’t decide whether to savour you or ruin you.

Eddie, drunk on your praise, dares to glance up at Steve with a smirk. Steve’s nostrils flare, but instead of shutting him down, he drags a thumb over your cheek and growls, “You gonna cum for him?” You can’t even answer. Your back arches, toes curling, and Eddie drinks it in like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. The moment you shatter, he loses it. He’s not sure what destroys him more — the way you choke out his name, begging him not to stop, or the filthy, approving rumble of Steve’s voice as he speaks, “Good girl.”

Eddie finds himself at an impasse, torn between begging for more and staying silent as the two of you decide his fate. His fingers twitch where they grip your thighs, his breath ragged, his entire body coiled tight with anticipation—and fear. Steve detaches himself from nipping at your collarbone when Eddie wavers, his movements faltering. A reprimand flashes in Steve’s darkened gaze, sharp enough to make Eddie shudder again. “Didn’t you hear her, Munson?”  Steve’s voice is a low, warning growl. “She told you not to stop.”

But Eddie freezes. The reality of where he is—what he’s doing—hits him like a freight train. He has no idea how to continue.

But Steve doesn’t tolerate hesitation. His hand fists in Eddie’s hair, yanking him forward with a rough, “Stop thinking.”

Eddie obeys like a man possessed, and the moment his tongue drags over you, his whole body jerks—holy shit. You taste even better than he could’ve dared to dream. Sweet, addictive, and the way you gasp when he flicks his tongue over your clit?  He’s ruined. Forever.

Drunk on you—on the way your fingers tighten in his hair, the way you’re so wet it’s coating your thighs—he laps at you like his life depends on it. Steve watches with drowsy satisfaction, his palm sliding possessively up your stomach to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple just to hear you whimper for him again.

“Listen to how she sounds when you do it right,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with contentment. “Isn’t it the most beautiful sound in the world?” He doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer. Instead, he tilts your jaw toward him, locking you in a searing kiss. You moan into Steve’s mouth as Eddie continues, his tongue relentless, his own desperate noises vibrating against you. Steve chuckles darkly when Eddie whimpers, his cock straining against his jeans just from tasting you. He hasn’t even touched himself, but he’s so close he’s shaking.

“Are you going to come just from this, Munson?” Steve drags him off you by his hair, grinning at the dazed, wrecked look on Eddie’s face. “Fuck, look at him, darling. He’s a mess.” Eddie’s lips are slick, his chest heaving, his pupils blown so wide his eyes look black. Steve doesn’t give him a chance to recover. He pushes Eddie back into the armchair, his grip firm, dominant. Then he guides you onto the couch with a smirk.

“You did good,” he tells Eddie, voice dripping with condescension. “Now let me show you great.”

Steve doesn’t waste time. In one smooth motion, he hooks his hands under your knees, spreading you wide —putting you on display— before dragging you to the edge of the couch. His gaze locks onto Eddie’s, making sure he’s watching as he leans down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, a shudder running through you at the sensation. “See how she shivers?” Steve murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, laced with something Eddie can only describe as devotion. “It’s because she knows what’s coming—” Then he devours you. 

Unlike Eddie’s frantic, eager strokes, Steve’s tongue moves with precision — deliberate, decisive licks that have you arching off the couch within seconds. He teases you, circling your clit until you’re gasping, then he pulls back with a cruel smirk.

“Steve—” you whine, fingers scrambling at his hair. “Patience, sweetheart,” he muses — before sucking your clit between his lips, hard. Your cry echoes through the room, and Eddie’s hands clench into fists, his hips jerking helplessly as you overwhelm his senses without even touching him. Steve doesn’t let up; he works you with his mouth until your thighs tremble, until your moans grow longer and heavy, until you’re right there—, and he pulls away.

“No, no, baby, please—” you beg, but Steve just clicks his tongue, amused, sliding two fingers into you without warning. “Look at her, Munson,” he orders, curling his fingers just right, making you sob beneath him. “This is how you give her what she deserves.” His thrusts are ruthless, his palm grinding against your clit with every movement. You’re a writhing, whimpering mess, your nails digging into Steve’s shoulders as he fucks you on his fingers, his eyes locked onto Eddie’s the entire time.

“She’s close,” Steve taunts — he doesn’t even need to look at you to know, too busy watching the way Eddie’s jaw clenches.  “You want to see what happens when she comes on my hand?” Eddie can’t even speak. He just nods, frantic. Steve smiles wickedly and makes do with the response. “Then watch closely.”

He crooks his fingers again, pressing deeper, and you don’t just shatter — you explode. Your back bows like you’re possessed, broken screams tearing from your throat as you squirt, and Eddie swears he’s seeing stars. Your hand finds Steve’s bicep, clinging desperately, like you’re afraid he’ll stop. Eddie can’t look away; he doesn’t dare blink — if he misses a single second of this, he’ll never forgive himself.

Steve works you through it, drawing out every last spasm until tears streak your face, until you’re oversensitive, trying to squirm away. Only then does he finally relent, licking his fingers with a satisfied hum before brushing featherlight kisses up to your neck. The moment you feel his proximity, you meet him in a kiss — not heated like before, but purposeful, delicate, like Steve is guiding you back to reality with it. He doesn’t rush you; he just lets your fingers weave through his hair until your breathing steadies. Then, he speaks again. “That”, he says, “is how it’s done.” He meets Eddie’s stunned gaze. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about getting your dick wet until she’s clenching around nothing.”

Eddie’s so hard it hurts. His cock throbs against his jeans, neglected and aching, precum soaking the fabric. He’s never been this turned on in his life—and the worst part? Steve knows it. The bastard smirks, dragging a thumb over your lower lip. You suck it in eagerly, tongue swirling, before he pulls away and stands. It’s a fucking performance. Steve undoes his belt like he’s savouring the way Eddie’s eyes cling to his hands, the leather slipping free with a final, damning shush. You whimper, still boneless from your orgasm, but your eyes flutter open when Steve’s palm slides up your thigh, squeezing. “Please, Steve?” you breathe, and his grin turns feral. “Not yet, love.” He glances at Eddie, whose throat bobs under the weight of his stare. “Munson hasn’t earned it yet.”

Eddie’s stomach drops. Fuck. He’s dripping in his pants, his hips twitching like a fucking teenager, and Steve’s going to make him wait?  But then— 

Steve grips Eddie’s chin, forcing his gaze up. “You want her?” he asks, voice rough. Eddie nods, greedy. “Then prove you can take care of her.” And just like that, Steve shoves him onto the couch with you. “Do it like I showed you.”

For a heartbeat, Eddie can only stare—at the way your breath hitches when he touches you, at the way your eyes lock on Steve, who’s sprawled in the armchair like it’s a fucking throne, lazily stroking his cock. Your lips part, and Eddie swears he sees your mouth water—fuck, it’s obscene. His hands tremble as he touches you—really touches you—this time. His mouth finds your thigh, kissing up the sensitive skin, trying to mimic the way Steve had worshipped you earlier. But when his tongue drags over you, your breath catches—wrong—and Steve’s low chuckle cuts through the room like a knife.

“Christ, Munson,” Steve sighs, his grip tightening around his cock. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Eddie grits his teeth. He is. He’s thinking about the way Steve had made you scream, the way your back arched off the couch like you were trying to fuse into him. He’s thinking about the fact that Steve’s watching, lazily stroking himself while Eddie fumbles like a virgin.

And the nail in the coffin? You’re watching Steve too. Your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes heavy with desire—but not for Eddie.

“Fuck,” Eddie rasps, pulling back. His voice is wrecked.“I can’t—I don’t—” Steve leans forward, fingertips ghosting over your throat as you keen toward him. “You can,” he growls. “Stop trying to perform. Just feel her.”

Eddie’s breath comes in sharp bursts. This time, when his mouth finds your cunt, he doesn’t think. He listens. To the way your breath catches when he licks a slow, experimental stripe. To the way your hips jerk when he sucks just there. And when your fingers fist in his hair—finally—it’s not to guide him, but to hold on.

“There,” Steve murmurs, voice thick with approval. “Now you’re getting it.” Eddie moans against you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat. Fuck. He’s dizzy with it—the taste of you, the sounds you’re making, the way Steve’s gaze burns into him like a brand.

But then Steve stands. Eddie barely has time to register the loss before Steve’s dragging him up by the collar, spinning him around to face you—really face you. Your lips are swollen, your chest heaving, your thighs slick with Steve’s work.

"Look at her," Steve growls, his voice a dark scrape against Eddie’s ear. "Don’t just glance—really look."

And Eddie looks. He sees the damp flush between your breasts, the way your hips lift like you’re already chasing it, the way your pupils blow wide when Steve’s thumb swipes over your bottom lip. "She’s not yours," Steve breathes, dragging his teeth over Eddie’s earlobe. "But fuck, look how bad she wants you to try."

Eddie’s pulse races. Then Steve steps back, gesturing like a king permitting a subject to kneel. "Go on. Make her forget my fucking name."

So he closes his eyes, trying to drown out the noise in his head, to sync himself with the thrum of your heartbeat beneath him, to dissolve into every breath you take. He wants to belong here, in this moment, where Steve’s approval hangs heavy in the air and your pleasure is the only thing that matters — success. A satisfied hum from Steve when Eddie finally finds the right rhythm, a broken moan from your lips. But your eyes — your eyes stay locked on Steve, even as Eddie’s mouth works you over.  It’s still him you want. Hunger battles with pride in Eddie’s chest. He hates how badly he craves this—how much he needs Steve’s approval—but god, he longs to pull those sounds from you himself, to unravel you with nothing but his touch. And so he moves like a man possessed, single-minded in his mission to play you like an instrument, to pluck every string until you snap.

Your taste is intoxicating, something he’s already addicted to, something he’s not sure he can live without anymore. Your eyes scrunch shut as pleasure blooms, so lost in it that you don’t even notice Steve speeding up his strokes, his grip tight on his cock. Eddie gets close—so close he can practically taste your climax—but you linger on the edge, just out of reach. He’s aware he’s missing something, some final piece to send you over, but he can’t find it. Then your eyes flicker open again, searching for Steve’s gaze like it’s the only thing that can save you. And Eddie knows—he’s pushed his luck too far. Steve’s patience snaps—not with his pleasure, but with Eddie’s failure to give you yours. Next thing he knows, he’s being dragged back, the warmth of you ripped away too soon. Steve looms over him, a predator in human skin, annoyance rolling off him in waves. “If you want to get a chance to fuck her,” Steve growls, voice dripping with challenge, “you’re going to have to do better than that.” 

Eddie’s brain becomes the mental equivalent of a dropped Wi-Fi signal—because did Steve just imply—?

Every touch, every taste Steve has allowed him, Eddie has devoured with insatiable hunger. But now it hits him—this is more than just a demonstration. Steve might actually let him fuck you. Or he would have. Now, Eddie isn’t sure he’ll ever get the opportunity again. A sharp, breathy cry from you yanks him from his thoughts. Steve has already turned you over, guiding you onto your hands and knees, one foot perched on the armrest behind you like a damn king claiming his treasure. Eddie is so close to your face now, your slick still glistening on his chin as you blink up at him, dazed. Steve teases your entrance with his cock, just enough to have you pushing back, begging for it. And for one glorious, heart-stopping moment—you look at Eddie.

Not at back at Steve.

At him.

Your gaze is pure, primal desperation—like he’s the one you need. Steve drives into you in one brutal thrust, and your eyes screw shut in ecstasy. You sob Steve’s name, but your eyes flicker back open as you you look at him.

“Baby, please—” And it dawns on him—you are begging Steve, but not for Steve. No, you’re begging for permission, your gaze locked onto Eddie like he’s the only thing anchoring you to earth. He doesn’t know what you’re asking for, but Christ, he already knows he wants it just as much. 

Steve, of course, does understand. He drags his cock into you agonisingly slow, pressing tender kisses along your spine even as his voice comes out harsh. “You think he deserves it, honey?” You whine, desperate, but Steve doesn’t need more than that. He leans over you, his thrusts deliberate, sinful. “How could I ever say no to you?”

And fuck, Eddie gets it now—gets why Steve turns possessive, gets why you love it. He’s watching the two of you move like a single entity, Steve’s hips rolling into you with a precision that rewrites Eddie’s entire understanding of sex. And the real tragedy? He’s pretty sure you’re only getting started. Your fingers fist in Eddie’s collar, yanking him down hard. His breath stutters as your lips take him in, hot and needy, and he doesn’t think—just reacts, his hands tangling in your hair as Steve’s thrusts rock you forward, forcing Eddie deeper into your mouth. You moan around him, the vibrations nearly undoing him right there, but then your hand tugs at his belt loop like it’s personally offended you, and Eddie’s thoughts fry into static. What do you want? He glances at Steve for answers, but the bastard just laughs, driving into you harder like he’s savouring Eddie’s confusion.

And God help him, Eddie looks. It’s downright pornographic. Steve’s cock glistens as he pulls out, your body clinging to him like it never wants to let go, and every time he sinks back in, you clench, a broken noise tearing from your throat.

As Eddie freezes, you take matters into your own hands, undoing Eddie’s belt with ruthless efficiency. The zipper’s barely down before his jeans pool at his knees. He looks at Steve again—helpless—but Steve just shakes his head, smirking. “Jesus, Munson. Keep up.”

Your fingers brush the straining outline of his cock through his boxers, and his hips jerk. Your mouth finds the spot beneath his ear, teeth scraping, and—fuck—it nearly sends him over the edge right then. You’re not gentle. You know exactly what you want. In seconds, his dick is in your hand, your grip perfect, and the first stroke has him grinding his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. He wants to keep his eyes open—to watch, to devour every detail of every second—but his body betrays him. A shudder wracks through him, his lashes fluttering helplessly before his head falls back, lost to the crushing wave of ecstasy."

“Fuck—!”

Steve’s voice cuts through the haze, dark with amusement. “That’s it, sweetheart. Show him how good you can be.” His hand tangles in your hair—not guiding, just holding—like he wants Eddie to see he’s the one in control. That every gasp you make, every shudder Eddie can’t suppress, is because Steve orchestrated it.

“Bet he’s never felt anything like you.” Eddie’s thighs tremble, his cock twitching against your tongue. He’s close, too close, and Steve knows it—fuck, he’s enjoying it. “Look at him,” Steve murmurs, dragging his cock out of you just to slam back in, punching a moan from your lips.  “Already shaking for you.  Bet he wishes it was him inside instead.” His thumb swipes over your clit, and you whimper, your rhythm on Eddie faltering. “But he’s got to earn that, doesn’t he?”

Earn it? Eddie’s vision blurs at the edges. He’d shamelessly beg if it meant— Then your tongue swirls over the head of his cock, and he chokes, almost falling forward into you.

“Steady,” Steve warns, though his voice is anything but calm. “You cum before she does, and I’ll make you watch while I fuck her twice as hard.”

Eddie’s groan is nothing short of pure agony. Steve fucks you more slowly then—cruel, like he’s savouring Eddie’s torment—dragging his cock almost all the way out before sinking back in, his grip on your hair tightening just enough to make your eyes water. But your dedication doesn’t waver; if anything, it burns hotter. “Shit—”  Eddie’s hips jerk involuntarily, but you swallow him deeper, humming around the salt-bitter heat of him. His fingers scramble at the cushions, knuckles white. “Jesus, sweetheart, where the hell did you learn—?”

Steve’s laugh is a dark, knowing thing against your neck. His hands slide up your thighs, spreading you wider as he presses inside, slow, letting you feel every fucking inch. “She’s full of surprises,” he murmurs, lips grazing your ear. “But you’re not going to last long enough to find out, are you?”

Eddie’s groan disintegrates, the way you swirl your tongue around him, the slick pressure of your throat—it’s nothing like the groupies who’d thrown themselves at Corroded Coffin. This is ruination. This is worship. Your mouth works him with practiced greed, and Eddie’s vision blurs.

“Fuck, I’m not—I can’t—” 

“Yes. You can.” Steve’s voice doesn’t leave room for argument—this isn’t a suggestion; it’s a command. His hand moves from your scalp to your nipple, pinching just shy of pain until you whine around Eddie’s cock. His other hand slips between your legs, circling your clit with filthy precision. “You going to come for us, sweetheart?” he rasps. You nod frantically, lips stretched lewdly around Eddie. “Good. Let him see.” You break with a cry, muffled around Eddie’s cock, and Steve growls as your body clenches around him. “That’s it,” he grits out, hips snapping harder, “that’s my girl—” Eddie’s spellbound.

 Steve fucks you through it, your tears smearing Eddie’s thighs. His breath comes in punched-out gasps, cock twitching against your tongue—

Steve loses control first. A guttural groan tears from his throat as he spills inside you, forehead dropping between your shoulder blades.

Eddie’s hips stutter when you whimper, oversensitive, as Steve grinds into you one last time—claiming you like he wants to brand the feeling into your skin. And then— “Fuck!”  Eddie’s back arches, his cock jerking as you pull off with a slick pop, begging Steve for mercy. He comes untouched, frustration and relief searing through him as he gasps your name like a prayer. Steve laughs, low and satisfied. Eddie’s too wrecked to care, chest heaving—until Steve’s next words send him tumbling straight back into want.

“Let me know if you’ve got any requests for the next lesson.”

[player380]

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- disco pang pang

━━━ ↳ ❝ [ se-mi x f! reader ] ¡! ❞

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ PART TWO in which you try out the infamous disco pang pang ride with your friends in incheon, south korea, and end up having the ride moderator attempt to set you up with the stoic, pretty woman sitting next to you┊2.1k words

contains: potential ooc se-mi (we don't really know too much about her but my hyperfixation has deluded me to believe my own headcanons that were created by the bit we saw her in s2), fluff, some minor hints of sexual content, wlw, teaser x teased, & non-canonical nonsense, au!! the games never took place & se-mi is lowkey loaded (which i may write more about in another fic idea i have oops), i also am not very sure of any korean customs (im a white american) so please please please let me know if any of the manners of this are wrong so i can correct it, also this has not been proofread yet so enjoy any spelling or grammar errors <3

After much debate with your close girl friends, that you were on a trip into the big city with, they had practically dragged you to the long line of awaiting people to try out this silly ride. Each of their hands clasped tightly around your sweaty palms, forcing your feet to shuffle into your spot at the back of the line. It was a warm spring day, the sun beating down only to be combated by a pleasant breeze. So, of course, most would find themselves spending the day at the Wolmi Theme Park in South Korea. The three of you had already spent the majority of the day entertaining yourselves with other rides, though with yourself often choosing to opt out of riding many--given rollercoasters had a habit of making you queasy. Yet, after much convincing and deliberation, you had allowed them to take you on this ride. They had claimed that it wasn't that scary, and was oftentimes quite fun. But as you got into line and saw the ever-moving ride your stomach dropped and your face paled. Laughter and screams echoed around as the current set of riders were being bounced up and down whilst the ride spun everyone in round in differing speeds. As you watched this, you couldn't help but feel the corn dogs you just had thirty-minutes prior rising their way through your innards.

While you stood there, mouth agape, your friends had busied themselves with calling their boyfriends back home in the countryside. Snapping you out of your scared daze, was a smooth laugh from beside--even smoother words following in pursuit.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," a woman laughed from beside you, your eyes narrowing as they traveled up the body beside you in line. Taking notice of her skinny ripped black jeans, the loose tank top that had a bit of the side tucked into the waistband of her jeans, and a black leather jacket over her shoulders. Her face was adorned in few piercings: just one silver ring on her lip, the other a silver ring on her left nostril (a gem-incrusted sun on where the ring met the visible skin). Her hair was short, some strands of her black hair covering the right side of her head slightly. Her narrow features complimented her stylistic choices. And by all means: the woman was completely, and utterly gorgeous.

After a few minutes of silence, your eyes only widening upon seeing the pretty woman, she spoke up again. "Are you alright? Surely you haven't actually seen a ghost," she replied, her thin brows furrowing slightly as she stared at you--her head cocked to the side just a hair. She was concerned for your wellbeing. How cute.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," you blinked, snapping out of your haze and returning your gaze to the still-moving ride--swallowing hard. "I just don't like rides like this," you added and nodded awkwardly. "Not really my thing."

The woman beside you nodded, letting out a quiet hum as her gaze follows yours up to the ride. "It's not that bad," she commented, letting out a quiet laugh. "Just make sure to hold on tight."

"What?" You asked, misunderstanding her words and her eyes widening slightly.

The woman laughed harder, shaking her head. "The bars, hold on tight to the bars," she corrected, tilting her head. "Or your friends."

You suddenly felt the presence of your two friends who had gotten off facetime with their partners, and were now standing beside you once more--staring at the taller woman with slightly furrowed brows. The woman just nodded once, before turning back around and facing the front of the line. Leaving you to suffer the teasing looks and questions from your friends for the remainder of the wait in line.

Eventually, after growing slightly impatient from standing still for so long, it was finally your group's turn to file onto the circular ride. The eager group of riders all excitedly piled on, sounds of annoyed groans coming from the people who were cut off and had to wait another round.

Your friends rushed to a spot, sitting on the seats and giggling excitedly. Their hands reached behind themselves to grab the plastic and metal bars--wrapping their arms around the slick material in hopes to stay (mostly) still throughout the ride.

You sat there awkwardly, trying to mimic your friend's actions but you found yourself struggling to keep yourself comfortable. You didn't realize the woman who was in front of you in line was sitting beside you until you felt her hands gently guiding your arms to wrap around the bars--her hand resting there for a moment and looking over you.

"Comfy?" She asked you, raising a brow slightly.

Your face, now red, moved up to meet her gaze--nodding awkwardly. "Yeah, thanks," you said, voice quiet, and pressing a small smile up as another bout of gratitude. Her dark eyes traveled over you for a second, smiling and giving a nod back. She moved to sit beside you, leaving the width of a person and a half between you two.

Unfortunately for your humility, the ride moderator had noticed the small interaction and so once the ride started slowly spinning--your face all but heated when you heard the moderator's loud voice call out your descriptor over the speakers. Little did you know the running internet joke that if the moderator called you out, you were done for.

"Are you two together?" The male moderator's voice called out, "you, tweed skirt and the h/c hair. And you, short black hair and the leather jacket," he described. Your heart all but dropped. Before you could reply, the woman next to you beat you to it:

"No, we aren't," she yelled, her voice loud over the mechanics of the machine and the loud sounds from around the theme park.

"Do you want to be?" The moderator called out, a hint over amusement carrying over in his voice.

You shook your head, laughing awkwardly. "No, no it's okay. I came here with my friends," you replied, brows furrowing in embarrassment--trying to ignore the giggles from your friends beside you.

"Ah, no, no, let me fix that," the moderator said, laughing, and your heart dropped from his mischievous tone.

Suddenly, the ride was tilted all the way to the left side and began bouncing slightly. Lifting you up and down from your seat, your sweaty hands barely holding onto the plastic bars as gravity tried to pull you to where the woman beside you was sitting. She seemed to keep her body planted firmly--hardly moving. The ups and downs got harsher, and before you knew it, one of your arms slipped from the bar and you fell slightly down to your left. You felt another leg wrap around yours--realizing it was the woman's, who was trying to keep you steady so you didn't fall.

You grunted as you moved to steady yourself back onto the seat, pulling your leg from hers and attempting to grab back onto the bars. Before you could succeed, another unexpected bump made your other arm slip--letting out a yelp as you stumbled off the seat and about to start rolling on the metal floor of the ride. You didn't go very far before you found your body ensnared by both the woman's legs--holding your torso tightly as to make sure you didn't fall anymore.

As the bumps continued, you felt one of her hands grab your arm and pull you up--setting you on her lap. Your face burned with embarrassment and awkwardness at the entire situation--wishing you hadn't even let your friends convince you to get on this stupid ride to begin with. Her legs entangled with yours, an arm wrapping around your waist and pressing your back tight against her front. Her fingers found purchase on your hip, pressing into the part tightly.

"Are you okay?" She asked, tilting her head so her mouth was right next to your ear, her voice quiet. God was her voice attractive.

You nodded, the consistent bumps making the two of you rise up from your seats occasionally--but your landings were cushioned by the woman's body beneath you. It was almost strangely nice. No. You shouldn't think like that. She was an entire stranger. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," you replied, turning your head slightly--though not realizing how close your faces would be. You quickly turned your head back around forward--your cheeks the color of a tomato.

As the ride continued on, the moderator still continued to pick on the two of you, moving you two around. Even with the woman's firm grip on your body, you had somehow ended up turned around--your legs straddling her hips. Her jacket had been moved to wrap around your waist so no one could see how your skirt rid up, allowing some form of modesty. There were some other instances of other people flailing around and landing on others, however you could hardly pay any mind to the others on this ride given your situation. This continued on throughout the ride's duration, before eventually the machine came to a stop--the moderator thanking everyone, though still finding a way to insert a tease about the two women's interactions throughout the ride.

You shakily got off of the woman--pulling your skirt down and untying the jacket around your waist, holding it back out to her. "Um, thanks for this. And for making sure I don't fall," you muttered, looking down at your feet. When she took the jacket, you quickly took off and found your friends at the exit of the ride--trying to ignore the burning throughout your body as their incessant teases fueled your embarrassment.

Before you could get far, a female voice called out and you turned around--your eyes widening as the woman before approached, slightly out of breath from the small jog. Your friends looked at each other with raised brows, both backing away to leave you two to yourselves.

"Oh-- um, hi," you said, brows furrowing slightly. "Did you need something?"

"How long are you in Incheon for? Or do you live here?" She asked, her chest still rising up and down with rapid breaths. She almost sounded hopeful, and a bubbly filling filled your stomach. As if someone had opened a cage of butterflies between your ribcages.

You blinked, looking away from her for a moment. "No, I don't live here. Just visiting with my friends... but I'm not sure. A couple more days, at least. We didn't really have an end date. Why?" You asked, licking your lips slightly--and you watched as her eyes flickered to your slightly damp, pink lips for a moment before she looked back up at your eyes.

"Let me take you sight-seeing around the city, yeah?" She asked, despite her cool demeanor, she almost seemed nervous. "You don't have to, but it'd--"

"Sure," you cut her off, flashing an almost-nervous smile of your own. "I'd like that, my friends and I aren't really super knowledgeable around anyway. I'm sure they'd like it too."

Her face flickered with some unknown expression and she shook her head. "No, not them. Just you... and I," she said, sucking in a long breath.

"Oh," you breathed, your brows raising. "Yeah, my answer is still the same. I would like that," you answered, emphasizing the 'I' in your sentence. The woman nodded, any nervousness or tension immediately lifted from her demeanor.

"Good," she said, grinning. "Let me get your number," she said--pulling out her phone from her back pocket, opening it, and shoving it in your direction with the screen showing an empty contact form to fill out. You nodded, and took the phone to begin typing in some things in each slot. "I'm Se-mi, by the way," she added, her eyes watching you intently--studying every and all aspect of your face.

Once you finished, you looked back up at Se-mi and handed her phone. "Well... just give me a message, Se-mi. I should be free, well, if I can ever escape those two for a moment," she laughed, tilting her head back to where her friends stood--watching the two of you interact with large grins.

Se-mi nodded, watching your form retreat as you handed her phone back and went back to your friends who immediately began pestering you for information on your new 'hot date', as they called it. She looked back down at her phone, studying your name on the contact--trying to burn it into her memory.

"Y/n...," she said slowly, nodding as she enjoyed the feel of it on her tongue. Knowing full well she was going to be saying that name for a long time. Or, well, at least she hoped.

Who knew your friends dragging you onto a silly ride could lead to any of this.

[pearlescentparade]

TWO TIME X READER ,,,,, ANY CRUMBS .,,, ANYTHING ., I WILL PROVE MY NAMESAKE TRUE AGAIN PLEA

★two timesmut anon

hi my name is two time and im BORING AS SHIT /ref

stealth 🔄 two time x reader fluff drabble💝

a savory aroma wafts from the pot of stew as you gently stir tonight's dinner, the stove's range hood ventilation's incessant hum serving as ambience.

you would've had two time help, but you knew better than to let them roam in the vicinity of knives. no matter how desperately they beg to offer their assistance, there is no appealing their ban from the kitchen!

you take up a spoonful of the stew, lightly blow on it, then lift it to your lips. plegh.. too salty.. a little more water would dilute it.

after making your fix, you taste it again, lightly nodding in approval at the improved flavor.

you'd go back to stirring if it hadn't dawned on you that your house is a bit too quiet for your liking. two time was home, weren't they? you thought you remembered asking them to stay in your shared bedroom until dinner was ready.

usually, you'll hear them faintly humming or rambling to themself... yet there is no such indicator of their presence.

only silence. you could hear a pin drop.

or a floorboard creak.

your head could've flown off from how quickly you snapped it to look behind you, only to be met with two time in the process of sneaking up behind you. a smile is plastered on their face, even when you've spotted them. in fact, it might've grown wider upon you turning around.

"oops! you caught me! ah, and to think i almost had you, hehe... little lamb is so vigilant!" they throw their hands up, playfully admitting their shameless guilt.

"you're not as slick as you think, timey," you retort, returning their silly attitude. "here, have some and lemme know what you think." you scoop another spoonful out, holding a hand beneath it as you carefully transfer it to two time's mouth.

they immediately swallowed, almost like the stew just went straight down their throat. you doubt they even thought about how it tastes...

"wow! i've certainly never tasted something like this! truly enlightening."

"...is it, good..?"

"nope! ..yes! ....yea! ...i'm not sure." with every switch of their opinion, two time tilts their head to the other side.

you sigh. this wasn't helping at all... but you suppose it couldn't be helped. they probably didn't consume such rich or particularly savory food in the cult. you wonder what they did eat.. gruel? is it possible for someone to be so devoted that they'd subject themself to that willingly?

as you ponder spawn cultists' diets, two time's face lights up, an idea brewing.

a small noise of surprise escapes you when your partner suddenly cups your face in their hands, slightly squishing your cheeks together.

but the shock doesn't end there, because right after, two time leans in to kiss the corner of your lips. you think you felt them lick you too.

"mm, it tasted better like that."

"wh.. huh? what??"

"there was soup on your mouth! i just got it for you. you silly, messy lamb!"

"oh.. i see..."

they'd probably like the stew more salty then.

(parade postscript: forgive me drabbles will in fact be drabbles and not fics bc I NEED TO ACTUALLY REMEMBER TO KEEP DRABBLES SSHORT AND NOT,, MAKE THEM FULLBLOWN FICS)

[nartml]

Pinky swear the actual analysis is perfectly coherent. And still unfinished.

To understand the madness, I have to tell you that I have never once in this past year needed a google doc or a computer to create a post

Are 7k words too long for meta asking for a friend

[mamawasatesttube]

pondering the issues tim and kon would have to work through in their relationship... like. kon's thing for attempting so earnestly to be what his partner wants him to be that it impedes his ability to communicate, vs. tims constant struggle with the hero/personal life balance.

imagine: kon shows up to pick tim up for date night, but tim forgot about it bc he's so wrapped up in a case. he's crunching numbers he's deep in a research hole he's in the zone. so kon taps at the window and he's like hey :) you're welcome to hang out but i really won't be any fun for a bit, im so close to cracking this. it's not anything urgent right it can wait an hour or two?

and kon thinks about reminding him they have reservations for dinner. but even if tim goes oh shit and gets changed real fast, his brain will be on the case the whole time and kon knows it. so he pastes on a smile and goes oh yeah no it's nothing important, i was just saying hi on my way to metropolis :). and he knows tim Really Is in the zone bc tim doesn't even notice how fake that smile was

and the thing is, kon really thinks he did what he was supposed to do here. if he feels hurt, it doesn't matter because he did what A Good Boyfriend Should Do. besides, helping people is more important than his feelings. so if he feels hurt about this he should simply get over himself and stop it.

except like that's not actually how feelings work. oops

but tim realizes kon showed up for date night the next day when he glances at his calendar. and he's like FUCK. and then immediately Why Didn't He Tell Me???? Why Did He Just Leave Again???? ? ???? kon???? and he tries to apologize to kon but kon's like no you didn't do anything wrong ! and tim is like. uh. yes i did? (holding flowers with immense confusion)

he's trying to get kon to tell him what he can do to make it up to him, if there's anything kon particularly wants to go do, what's a date idea kon wants!! and he doesn't understand why this seems to be making kon shrink in on himself a bit because he's?? trying?? to fix it???

but he hasn't realized that the issue is that kon thinks, on some level, that prioritizing himself in a relationship in any way is how he gets dumped. like he wouldn't consciously say that's what he thinks. he'd deny it out loud. but that's how he secretly feels on the inside: that having needs or wants, that expecting reciprocity from his partner, leads to him being left behind.

and so finally tim has to drop the "no really what do you wanna do??" angle to just sit on him and cup his face like hey. hey. i don't know what's going on in there but i can tell you're like Genuinely Upset (kon Haha what no I'm not!!!) but for some reason you keep saying i don't have anything to make up to you. which is Not True, Kon. can we accept that. i DO have something to make up to you and i WANT to make it up to you.

gotta cup kon's cheeks and gaze earnestly into his eyes like he's a sad lil puppy dog. listen. kon. i have a bad habit of letting the hero stuff in my life eat away at the rest of it and i am trying So Hard to be aware of when im doing it, but sometimes i fuck up because it's a hard habit to break. but i Will, because, like, this is the kind of thing that's ruined Every relationship i have ever had and i refuse to let it ruin us!! im Gonna be better for you bc you deserve better. and also because i know the rest of my family will be single until the day they die but I Refuse, okay. bruce and dick have fumbled every single relationship they've been in and i Won't be like them kon, im gonna do right by you or die trying, but you gotta talk to me for that, okay.

and kon's like. wow way to drag literally everyone in your family but i do actually feel a little better now. and tim's like fuck yeah B) was it the throwing dick and bruce under the bus that helped? i'll do it again anytime. especially bruce. listen bruce fumbled wonder woman do you know how bad that man is at relationships??? the fumbler for REAL.

and kon giggles despite himself and then manages to finally let go of some of that tension in his shoulders, heaves a big ol puppydog sigh, and plonks his face into tim's shoulder. he needs a minute but he finally admits, okay. yeah. it didn't feel great, and i should've told you it was date night that night itself. as for what we could do now, um... i'm not entirely sure... and tim's like not to worry! in my infinite wisdom i have ☝️ made a date night idea spreadsheet.

and like, the point is kon realizing that actually a good partner would like him to talk about his feelings and needs and wants. and tim realizing once again that He's Not Gonna Be Like Bruce He Refuses To Be Like Bruce. Rip To Bruce But He's Not Gonna Fumble A Bad Bitch. finally they go to the aquarium together or something and take a lot of silly fish selfies, and tim buys kon like 5 gift shop plushies. yippee!

[star-girl69]

I Can See You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you and clarisse work together to get revenge on a mutual enemy, but when that plan involves pretending to date clarisse, something better than revenge happens. requested by anonymous!

a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE HOLY FRICK. the beginning is so bad and just like worldbuilding but i PROMISE!!!!! keep reading!!!!!! pls ignore the fact im reusing jackie and tyla i’m attached to them anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

I Can See You - Taylor Swift

(also Dress by tay was the original title soooo…..)

warnings: not proofread, the beginning is so bad i swear it gets better, a little suggestive haha…., kissing ofc, fake dating!!!!!!!!!, JEALOUS CLARISSE JEALOUS CLARISSE I REPEAT JEALOUS CLARISSE!!!!!!!, swearing, violence, mentions of murder!, protective clarisse the loml, ALCOHOL!!!!! reader gets drunk, allusions to sex, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT please be VERY careful, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“What the hell are you all doing?”

You had waited until nighttime for a reason, for the light of the full moon and hopefully some peace. You and your siblings looked up at the voice.

Xavier Bones was possibly the rudest and most self-centered person you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father was Ares, which made sense, seeing as he had a wicked temper and was strong as shit. Most of the kids from the Ares cabin could probably snap you like a stick if they wanted, but what scares you about Xavier is that he might actually do it.

He’s rude to everyone he sees, but he particularly has it out for the Aphrodite cabin. Just because Aphrodite kids didn’t have skill in battle like Ares kids, or aren’t wicked smart like Athena kids doesn’t mean they’re worthless. Xavier just didn’t understand anything except brute force.

He didn’t understand any other kind of power.

The whole reason you’re out here tonight is to finally finish the potion you’ve been making. Amokinesis was strictly a spoken sort of magic, and it was hard to do it to more than one person. But, you and your siblings had decided that maybe you could try and follow in the steps of sorceresses like Medea and Circe, using spelled objects and potions to execute your power. You had been collaborating with a Hecate kid for weeks now, learning everything you could about potion making until you were finally ready to try and make a simple truth potion- love and desire also opened the door to truth.

Aster, the daughter of Hecate who had been helping you, said it was a relatively easy first timer potion and hopefully with your Amokinesis it would come together.

You look up at Xavier, watching as he smiles in disbelief.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to make some sort of love potion, huh?” He sits down at the picnic table, curiously leaning in to look at it.

“Get back,” Jackie, your sibling, hisses waving her hand at him so he’ll back up.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles, some glint in his eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re wasting all this time, seeing as it probably won’t work.”

“Shut up, Xavier,” you sighed. You needed this bad. You needed to prove to everyone that love wasn’t a stupid power. You were so sick of Xavier, of everyone and their treatment of the Aphrodite cabin. Jackie wanted so desperately to learn how to use a spear, but no one would pay enough attention to her.

You need this.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice?”

You opt to ignore him.

“Hm, okay, definitely not nice. Good thing I’m not either.”

He spits his gum out and drops it straight into the cauldron.

“Fucking bitch!” Jackie screams, Tyla looks like she’s about to cry, and the wooden spoon you’re holding in your hands is about to crack under the pressure.

The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.

“Oops,” he says.

He laughs and walks away, and you faintly wonder what happened to him to make him so cruel.

—-

The next morning you’re all stewing silently at breakfast. Jackie is glaring daggers at the Ares table, Tyla is ranting about how you need to get all the ingredients again, and you’re trying to listen and join Jackie at staring maliciously.

“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”

“I’ll help,” you murmur, favoring staring at your hands instead of being caught staring at him.

“Do you think Clarisse will let me borrow her spear? How much would that sting, getting killed by one of your Dad’s weapons, huh?”

“She probably would,” Tyla mumbles. “She hates him too, ever since he beat her sparring.”

You resist the urge to scoff. You were there that day, and Xavier had played dirty.

They were sparring, she was winning, when he suddenly pointed behind her and shouted that Ares was there. Of course, everyone had turned to look, and he had disarmed her and kicked her down while she was distracted.

Of course, the next day he was walking around sporting a black eye, but Clarisse had never lived that day down. Xavier had never lived that down, either, exactly why they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table now.

Jackie stares off into the distance. She lets out a small laugh.

“I have a horrible idea.”

“What if we make Xavier fall in love with one of us, right?”

You and Tyla both gag.

“Wait, wait! But then we just lead him on, and maybe Clarisse will do us a favor and pretend to date-”

Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”

You remember seeing the anger on her face that day. The rage, really, the betrayal. But you remember seeing the sadness too. A part of her had really thought Ares was gonna be there. You remember feeling so, so bad for her.

No one should deserve to feel like that, but it comes with the territory of being a demigod.

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

Tyla and Jackie stare at you like you’ve just cursed out Hades.

“I’ll do it. Tyla, no offense, but I think you’d crack under the pressure. And Jacks, you would just start punching him.”

“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.

“I would,” Jackie agrees.

“I mean, it might actually work.”

—-

You corner her the next day.

She’s outside her cabin, practicing some spear forms when you walk over to her. This is all moving so fast, but you can’t help the fact that revenge is so fun. Why wait when you can get it now?

Revenge is supposed to be served best cold, but you’ve always been a little too handsy, a little too greedy for your own good. You want revenge and you want it now.

“Clarisse, hi.” You smile, she spares you a glance and doesn’t say anything. “I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”

The spear stops in mid air. She moves from a offensive position to a standing position, and she looks you up and down so painfully slow that you think your organs are gonna burst.

“What?”

“So, you know Xavier?” you sit down on the picnic bench behind you. “I’m sure you know him, and I’m sure you know that he’s an asshole. He ruined something me and my siblings were doing, and he’s been so rude to all Aphrodite kids for so long so, we just wanna get him back.

She squints at you. “How?”

“We’re gonna use our amokinesis to make him fall in love with me, then maybe, hopefully, we can fake date to make him lose his mind.”

She stares at you blankly for a second. Your heart drops, oh, Gods, you never should have done this.

You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.

“‘Cause, you know, you both hate each others guts. And if he’s in love with me, but then he sees you and me together- it was this whole thing about making him see the power of love, you know, ‘cause like-”

She grabs you by your cheeks, pinching your face together, your lips puffing out.

“You can stop rambling, now.” She smiles in a demeaning way, and you would feel insulted if the way she wasn’t gripping your face right now wasn’t addicting. “I actually think it’s a pretty great plan. Surprising, but, whatever.”

You ignore that.

“So, you’ll do it?”

“When are you gonna spell him?”

“As soon as possible, tonight, at the bonfire.”

“Okay,” she nods, thinking to herself. “Come meet me before you do it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Clarisse La Rue touched your face. Clarisse touched your face, and you really fucking liked it.

—-

The three of you sit by the edge of the bonfire. You locked eyes with Clarisse a few minutes ago, letting her know you’re here.

Tyla fusses with your hair, even though you all spent an hour making everything about you perfect. It would be nice to look hot if you were gonna make him fall in love with you.

You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.

Her golden skin shines in the light of the fire, she adjusts her shirt, and you swear you see her abs just under the orange fabric-

“Clarisse is pretty, isn’t she?” Tyla says. “I mean, I almost wish I was the one fake dating her.”

And she is. She is so painfully pretty.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” you wink.

When you step into the bathroom, Clarisse locks the door behind you. You turn around and she’s there. She looks you up and down. You can’t make out the look on her face.

“You’re really trying to impress him, huh?” she smirks. You ignore that.

The ceiling is low in here, so you walk to the corner and reach up at the loose board. You slide it over, reaching inside and grabbing the small bag.

Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.

She stares at you. “Has that always been up there?”

You go to the mirror, taking out the mascara and applying another layer.

“Uh… yeah.”

She leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching you with such an intensity it’s like you’re the one beautiful thing in some bloody war she can’t take her eyes away from.

“We should probably set some ground rules,” you say. She hums. “This will probably only be for a month or so.”

“That’s fine.”

You stare pointedly at yourself in the mirror. You, Jacks and Tyla had dumped almost all of your plates into the offerings fire at lunch, hoping for good luck from Aphrodite. With the way your skin seems to glow, your makeup flawless, it seems she’s pleased by your offerings.

Maybe her and Ares are having a fight up on Olympus, and she’s itching to see him knocked down a peg, however vicariously through someone else.

“Well, you can do whatever you want to me.”

“I- what?” you blink, staring at Clarisse like she just turned into a cyclops.

“You can kiss me, hug me, whatever. I mean, we should really do this if we’re gonna do it. Sell it, or whatever.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you can do whatever too.”

Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.

You look up discreetly. Please, Mom, you think. Don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue.

It’s fine to admit to yourself that you’d like to jump on top of her, but she’s still an Ares kid. She’s a bully, if you’re being honest. But can you say that you’re not one too after this?

Love can burn down cities, love can start wars, love can end them. Love is always there from the beginning of your life to your beginning. The doctor who delivered you loves their career. The woman who makes flower arrangement for your funeral loves flowers, even if she hates making them for funerals.

Love is always there, and when it’s used as a weapon you know it is one of the deadliest things.

But you’re too deep in this now.

She walks around so she’s standing behind you, adjusting her hair in the mirror.

She puts her hand on your hip. You take a deep breath, you pretend. You pretend so hard it might become real.

She smiles brightly in the mirror. “See you out there, baby.”

—-

You pull your top down. That’s the easiest way to get a man to look at you. Pull your top down. You get a few looks as you move through the tree trunk benches, careful that you don’t accidentally trip, because that would completely fuck up the plan.

There’s a part of you that comes from your mother. The part that some may call vain, but how is it your fault to enjoy the attention that other people are giving you? It’s not your fault they’re looking. It’s not your fault you look like your mother’s daughter.

You walk a little longer, finally setting your eyes on Xavier, sitting across the fire from Clarisse and her group. You eyes meet hers. She pretends to itch her nose, but you can see the laugh she’s hiding. You take one more deep breath, say one more please to your mother.

“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”

He already seems a little shocked that you’re talking to him on purpose, but he quickly recovers and pushes his friend down the trunk.

You sit, your thigh touching his, folding your hands over your legs.

“I just wanted to say, Xavier, that you were right. The other night… the potion would have failed anyways. Thank you so much for ruining it when you did. Who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded everywhere.”

You laugh, putting your hand on his arm. He looks up at you, mouth slightly parted.

You said his name twice and he’s already sucked in.

“Really, Xavier, thank you.” You smile softly, looking at his lips before back up to his eyes.

His hand lands on your knee.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

You watch Jackie walk by. He doesn’t hear her whisper. But you see it in his eyes.

You pretend to blush, brushing your hand down his arm before it lands back in your own lap. He leans in closer, until his lips are brushing your ear.

“Why don’t I give you some more things to be thankful for?”

Tyla walks by. He doesn’t hear her whisper either.

“Oh, I should really get back to Clarisse. Sorry, Xavier,”

His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.

“C-Clarisse? What would you be doing with her?”

You feign innocence. “Well, she’s my girlfriend. I do a lot of things with her,” you giggle. “I just wanted to thank you, but I should get going. Bye, Xavier!”

You blow him a kiss as you stand up, and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes right along with the blazing rage. You can feel him stare as you walk away, hips swaying.

Clarisse is still trying to hide her laugh when you start walking over to her. The tree trunk around her is all full of people, and a few more are even on the ground.

You stand in front of her, smiling softly.

“Are you not gonna let your girlfriend sit down?”

“Of course I am.”

She leans back and pats her knee. She draws you forward by wrapping her big hand around your hip. When you sit down, she rests her hand flat against your stomach, pressing you right to her. Her other hand rests on your thigh.

Please, Mom, don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue. Don’t let me like her touching me like this.

Everyone is staring.

It’s exhilarating.

You twist your face into something serious, trying not to break out into a fit of embarrassing giggles.

Her breath tickles your neck.

“I gotta admit, you little witch, that was impressive.”

You smile and place your hand over hers.

“I know.”

—-

The day after the bonfire, everybody at camp is talking about you and Clarisse.

How long have they been dating? Why did they decide to become public now? I swear I saw Y/N and Xavier getting close, though, what happened?

You’ve been trying not to break out laughing all morning. During breakfast you blew Clarisse a kiss and heard one of your siblings gasp dramatically and mumble about how sweet young love is.

Jackie and Tyla made paper hearts for you during arts n’ crafts, talking loudly about how you were such a lovesick little thing. You know Xavier heard about all of those things, because he stares at you every chance he gets and glares at Clarisse at the same time.

You keep exchanging subtle glances with her, small smiles, secrets in between your gazes. It’s nice to have something like this.

After dinner, the two of you go to the woods to pretend like you’re having a secret date. Clarisse brings her spear and you bring a blanket.

You’ve been laying there comfortably for a while, arms under your head like a pillow.

“I wanna know how you did it,” she says, turning her spear in her hands. You open one eye to look at her.

“I say his name a bunch of times. With, like, a lot of intention. Then Jackie and Tyla came by and whispered “you’re in love with the girl in front of you” and other stuff like that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, like, this power.”

“I was imagining, like, one of those mortal movies, you know? A potion, or something.”

“Oh, we’re trying that too. Medea used her amokinesis in the form of potions and spelled objects, so me, Jackie, and Tyla have been talking to Aster, who’s a child of Hecate, and we tried to make a truth potion.” You laugh, thinking of that night. “That’s why we’re doing this, actually. Xavier found us and stuck his gum in it, so… completely ruined. We have to wait for the next full moon and get all the ingredients. It sucks, whatever, I guess.”

She listened intently the entire time you were talking. Aphrodite kids are always jumping from one thing to another. Clarisse is so focused and single-minded. It feels good to be the center of just one person’s attention. Not having people look at you, but just one person look at you.

“Every time I see him I think about stabbing him 20 times. Now I’ll think about sticking gum in his ear, too.” She turns to you and smiles.

None of that stupid smirking shit she always does, or those over-exaggerated demeaning smiles, she really smiles at you.

Her smile is really pretty.

You laugh along with her after a second.

“I would love to see that,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your forearms. “What really made you agree to do this? I mean, I know you guys surface level hate each other but, come on, I was just rambling and you were all ‘let’s do it’.”

“I hate him,” she shrugs. “Why do you care, anyways? You got what you wanted. Enjoy my beautiful self while it lasts.”

“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.

You don’t leave until the stars come out.

—-

The second day after the bonfire, Clarisse invites you to sit with her at lunch. Usually, you’re supposed to stay at your cabin tables, but Chiron is busy all day and no one would snitch on Clarisse.

You walk over with your tray in hand, watching as she whispers something to her siblings. You smile at them before she pats the seat next to her.

“Hey,” the boy next to you greets. “I’m Matty.”

He points to the girl across from him. “That’s Marjorie,” he points to the other boy with dark skin across from Clarisse, “That’s Daniel,” and finally your eyes land on the blonde girl sitting across from you.

“I’m Sarah,” she smiles. She seems nice, at least. So does Matty. The rest just seem sort of standoffish. There’s a scuffle under the table, then Daniel glares at Clarisse.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

Matty is sickly sweet nice, handsome too, and you almost wonder if he’s really a child of Ares. But he’s got that same focus like Clarisse.

He asks you questions and listens to your answers.

He had the bad stroke of fate in accidentally getting you going about your experiments in potions and amokinesis, and you find yourself shuffling closer to him.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “I’ll stop torturing you now.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I love a passionate person.”

You weren’t sure if he meant that to be flirting.

Usually you’re good at picking up these things, all Aphrodite kids have a knack for it, but you think he’s just really nice.

You stare at him, tilting your head to the side when Clarisse suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you closer to her. Her breath tickles your neck, just like the bonfire.

“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, not his,” she whispers, her chin resting against your shoulder.

You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”

“Not when he’s looking.” You spare a quick glance. Xavier is looking at you, a mix between glaring and starting longingly.

“He looks like a cross-eyed dog,” you giggle.

And to your surprise, Clarisse presses her face into your shoulder to muffle her laugh.

—-

All the time you spend with Clarisse is like some stupid board game you play with Tyla and Jackie when there’s nothing else to do. Jenga. That one where you crack the ice and try not to make the polar ball fall.

The games where you chip it away slowly, one by one, wondering if this time will be the time that it falls, if you’ll be the one to lose the game.

You push a little more each time with Clarisse. Each conversation, you learn a little more, you chip away a few of her walls.

It’s addicting to open her up slowly, to get to know her like this. And when it’s just you and her alone, when Xavier isn’t around to torture, you swear it doesn’t feel fake.

—-

The eighth day after the bonfire, you skip arts n’ crafts to follow Clarisse to the archery range.

While the Apollo kids have all that effortless, natural skill with archery, Ares kids are still deadly. You faintly remember seeing Clarisse shoot once. Even though it’s not her weapon of choice, her aim was deadly and she didn’t miss one shot.

You’re okay with a bow.

Clarisse sees the perfect opportunity to flaunt in front of Xavier.

As soon as you crest the hill, your eyes find his, and he beelines towards you.

“Y/N, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”

It’s easy to switch on that stereotypical persona. You twist your fingers into your shirt.

“Yeah, can you help me?” you look up at him, trying to be as disgustingly sweet as you can,

“What’d you need?” he takes a step closer, about to cage you in between him and the cart full of bows and arrows.

“Can you help me pick out a bow? I don’t know what one would be right for me, I don’t know anything about archery. Please?”

He reaches past you, coming close so your back hits the wooden cart. You can’t help the way your eyes widen. He’s bold, you’ll give him that. Everyone reacts differently under the spell, but their true personalities still shine through.

He picks one up, running his hand up and down the curved wood. He plucks at the string, nodding to himself.

“This one’s fit for a lady.”

You take it, fingertips brushing his. “Oh, thank you so much, Xavier.” You give him a small side hug as you run past him, eager to get away from him.

You just need to find Clarisse.

“Hey, don’t you need some help shooting?” you glance over your shoulder, watching him advance.

Where the hell is Clarisse?

You’re about to say you’re fine when you suddenly slide into someone’s arms. You would have slammed into her, if not for the way Clarisse softly reached out to touch your arm, and Gods, you recognize the feel of her skin.

You knew she was there and you gratefully walked forward, your chests touching, her arm around your shoulders.

“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”

You look up at her. She’s smiling in that same demeaning way.

You’ve grown to like it.

He doesn’t say anything else. You hear him stomp off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When you open your eyes after a moment, you realize how close you are.

You’re so close it’s just one move and that’s it. One move and you both know that’ll change it all.

You think she just worked out. You can feel the muscles of her arm against you, you can see the sweat on her hairline, you can see her breathing heavily.

You could just press your ear to her chest and feel everything.

The way her brown eyes reflect the sunshine is mesmerizing. You’ve been looking at her for so long, but it’s like you’re looking into the surface of a lake you swear you recognize, slightly green murky waters, but there was a whole world under the surface if you cared to look.

But you didn’t care to look for the Clarisse under the surface. You don’t care. You don’t want to.

She clears her throat and let’s go of you.

You back up.

“Put that thing down, he probably fucking poisoned it.”

You turn the bow in your hands, but when you look up, she’s already walking towards the far end of the field.

“Wait, wait, what am I gonna use then?”

“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.

—-

After taking a few deep breaths, and Clarisse going over the basics again, you filled your mind with images of a bow and arrow and not of her eyes. Not of her lips.

Clarisse La Rue hates Aphrodite kids too, just not as much as Xavier, and not enough to resist revenge.

You focus on that. That’s why you’re here. Revenge.

Revenge for every fucked up thing he’s said, revenge for every time he’s come too hard at you during capture the flag, revenge for all of your siblings and everyone he’s ever tortured.

“Ok, there, that’s a good stance.” She’s raking her eyes up and down your body. But you’re here for revenge. She glanced over her shoulder. “Except for…”

She presses her body to yours from behind, molding against you like she was made to protect you like this, her hand covering yours, her stance just a little wider. She glides her hand across your arm.

“Up, up, just a little.” She’s whispering right into your ear. You let her hands guide you. Your mouth feels dry. “Then let go.”

And how badly you want to let go. You want to let go of these feelings rolling around in your stomach like stones, you want to let go and let them become butterflies and fall into Clarisse.

You prayed to your mother not to fall in love with her, but maybe you should trust your mom. Maybe you should let go.

But you don’t.

You let go of the arrow instead, you keep your tumbling feelings inside, and to your shock you only hit a few inches from the bullseye.

The bow swings in your hand.

“Holy shit. Did I- did I just do that?”

Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”

You turn around and throw your arms around her neck, smiling wide and laughing hysterically. The bow was the one weapon you thought you could never master, and here you are after one lesson with Clarisse.

She wraps her arms around your waist, and even though you’ve hugged like this a million times, you both know it’s different this time. And you both ignore it.

But for one second, you’re pretending so hard it’s almost real. It’s almost a real date.

—-

On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.

Sword practice is held just after lunch, when the sun is still high in the sky. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins share the field first, and you, Jackie and Tyla take your time stretching to enjoy the show.

Tyla has to turn around to hide her laugh as you bend over slowly, making sure Xavier is watching, then when you face comes up flushed you smile at him. He smiles back.

You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.

Jackie says it will take him 5 minutes to ask her to spar. Tyla says 5 too. You say it’ll take him maybe 3 minutes.

He spars with one person, a two minute match, then marched right up to Clarisse.

“How about we go, huh? Want another chance to try and beat me?”

Clarisse was smiling before he walked over, talking to her friends. Her smile fades and is replaced by the dark mask of pure focus.

“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”

She walks past you to grab a sword from the rack.

Her eyes meet yours. You reach out and put your hand on her face, softly pressing her lips against yours. It’s a peck. It’s barely there. At least now you can check off a box and say you’ve kissed Clarisse La Rue.

She seems so shocked that you’ve actually kissed her you swear she loses her footing for a second. You swear her cheeks are a little flushed. By she stands up taller and ignores it, just like you’ve both been doing for so long.

“Good luck, baby!” you call as she walks off to the circle marked off for sparring.

Xavier looks like he’s about to light the grass on fire.

“She’s gonna beat his ass,” Jackie whispers.

“If he loses, do you think I should comfort him after?”

“Oh, Gods, yes,” Tyla smiles. “That’s so mean. We’re so mean.” It feels too good to stop.

Kissing Clarisse almost felt too good to stop. Even that second, one more longer and you would have been sucked in. You decide not to kiss her for however long this goes on.

Once you start kissing her, you’re scared you’ll never stop.

Revenge feels to good, and you need this.

As soon as they face each other Xavier springs out with a million offensive attacks, slightly sloppy- you can see his anger. Everyone knows you can’t let your emotion get in the way of battle.

Clarisse is calm and counters all his attacks. She even smiles, which makes your stomach flip in a way that isn’t fake.

Her sword flicks along his cheek. It’s a paper cut, barely.

“Oh no,” Clarisse fake frets. “You need me to walk you to the nurse?”

He grunts and launches an attack that’s just plain stupid. It’s messy. He swings too wide. She knocks his sword out of his hand.

He goes to dive for it but her sword is already at his neck.

He breathes heavily, staring at her, and it’s suddenly dead quiet. No more talking, no more swords clanging.

Your eyes are flicking in between them like a ball bouncing up and down. But they linger on Clarisse. Of course they linger on Clarisse.

It’s so quiet you swear you can hear her heartbeat.

“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.

She whips around, taking her sword with her, but no one is there. Of course no one is there.

Xavier runs away laughing, and Clarisse turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s gripping the hand of the sword so tight you’re surprised it hasn’t broken off.

Clarisse is not your girlfriend. Clarisse is not even your friend.

But she’s someone, she’s someone to you, and you can’t stand to see her like this.

You walk forward and put your hand on her wrist, taking the sword from her. You’re not even in control of your arms and legs.

She stares pointedly at the distance.

“Let’s go,” you whisper, giving her no choice and pulling her along. You throw the sword at the rack.

—-

You end up in Clarisse’s cabin, door clicking shut behind you as you press your back to it. She stays silent for a moment, until she screams and throws someone’s pillow at the wall. You don’t say anything.

You don’t say anything but you follow her to her bed.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, watching as she sits down, fists clenched so tight you hope she isn’t bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Clarisse.”

“You weren’t the one who fell for it. You weren’t the one who fell for that stupid, stupid, childish trick. I did.”

“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for us and our plan. If it wasn’t for me.”

You sit down on the bed next to hers.

“Why are you even here? We’re not actually dating, dummy. You can go.”

“I know,” you murmur. You know. You know you aren’t dating. You know you shouldn’t be here. “But you’re still something, Clarisse.”

She slips off her armor.

“I’m not something to you.”

She wants someone else to hurt like she does. She wants someone else to take the fall, to be embarrassed and the center of everyone’s attention so she doesn’t have to.

“I’ll never be something to you, Y/N, just- just go away. This is over, I’m not doing it anymore.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. There’s something wet in your eyes and your throat tightens up. “That’s fine.”

You leave silently and you cry in the woods.

—-

When you finally make your way back to your cabin at nightfall, everyone is fussing around you. Your hair’s messy, mascara streams down your face, your shirt is wet with tears.

“Where have you been?” one of your brothers asks, and the rest of your siblings echo the sentiment.

Tyla doesn’t say anything when she sees you. She just wraps her arms around you. Jackie stands just behind her, eyes locking with yours. She knows. She doesn’t move. She can see it on your face, she can see it in your eyes.

Aphrodite children are predisposed to fall in love fast and hard. You’ve all gathered around your siblings time and time again when their hearts inevitably got broken.

No one wants to date an Aphrodite kid. Not really.

They all think you’re vain and self-centered. They all think you’re weak and useless.

When it comes down to it, that’s what you are.

How can you claim to wield the power of love when it brings you to your knees too?

You thought Clarisse was hot. You thought you could leave it at that. You thought you could pretend, you thought you could ignore it.

But the more you think about it, the more tears fall down your face, the more you realize you were ignoring the wrong thing. You spent so much time trying not to want Clarisse you forgot that she doesn’t even want you. It stings, like a knife in the chest, it hurts to know you’re making it all up.

But it was always pretend. It was always fake. That’s what fake dating is. The Aphrodite side of you just forgot that you couldn’t find comfort in her arms, you couldn’t memorize the feel of her skin, you couldn’t hear the sound of her heartbeat and pretended it beat for you.

You look up at the sky and you want to curse your mother. You want to know why she has abandoned you. But in your heart, you know she hasn’t abandoned you. The Goddess of Love is right next to you, and this is what it feels like.

Knives in your heart. Memories of heartbeats, memories of skin, memories of soft voices and secrets and the feeling that something was yours, something was quiet and shared.

“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.

The words hurt. You say them anyways.

“I fucked up,” you sob. “I fucked up, Jackie. She doesn’t- she won’t, she never will-”

“Y/N,” Tyla coos.

“I fell in love. I fell in love, and it’s over.”

—-

You give up on wearing makeup. The sadness still seeps through your face, and you end up crying most of it off anyways. A few of your hoodies are just permanently stained with mascara with how much you cried. The tears stream down your face and carry the little black specks with it.

You try to visualize everything you feel leaving with the black specks. The love, the anger, the sadness, the regret. But it doesn’t leave, and you’re too tired of trying to hide from it.

Everyone thinks you miserably broke up, and it’s mortifying to know that Clarisse knows you’re like this, she knows you’re absolutely ruined over this- and it was never even real.

You keep telling yourself that. It was fake. It was never real.

But it feels real, the memories feel real. You know they happened, you know Clarisse touched you so often it’s like you’re burned with it. You say she had to have felt it to, because the more you remember the more you remember the electricity, the charge in the air.

But you might just be making that up.

Lunch is the worst time. She’s always so happy at lunch, her and her table laughing loudly. She mentioned to you once, one of those fake star-studded dates in the woods, that she’s always to tired by dinner time because she trains so hard for most of the day.

You stare at her when no one’s looking, and everyone can see you better in the bright light of day- and you can’t look away.

Tyla mumbles that they’re gonna get up to make their offerings, she doesn’t ask if you’re gonna come. You’re probably not even going to eat more than a few bites again.

You’re alone at the stone table.

Xavier sees that as an opportunity.

Love spells are best to break on a full moon. You thought it would go on longer than this, and he’s only become more emboldened by what everyone sees as a breakup.

He sits down next to you, smiling sadly. You prop your head up in your hand.

“Y/N, you sad angel.” His hand grazes your shoulder, you can’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He places a flower in front of you. “To cheer you up.”

“Thanks, Xavier,” you mutter. He stares at you for a moment longer. Jackie comes back, slamming her tray down onto the table.

“Go away, Xavier,” she says, the same thing she says every day. Jackie has this look in her eyes that lets you know she’s ready to jump on you if she has to.

You think he would stop trying, but he can’t. He can’t because of this stupid love spell that ruined everything. And you can’t even take it off of him, not until the full moon.

You wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t for that love spell.

—-

There is one a day a year that Chiron turns a blind eye to parties. The summer solstice all of the cabin leaders come together to throw a huge party, mostly centered around the bonfire, food and drinks and even music. It’s the one night a year where you’re allowed to be teenagers, and it’s not taken lightly.

It even makes you feel a little excited.

“So what if all that shit happened?” Tyla asked. “We’re gonna make sure you look as hell at this party, and then you’re gonna go find someone and make out with them in a dark corner. Don’t even look who it is. Just grab the first random person and kiss them.”

“Okay, well, I’m not doing that, but I will do something of the sort. There is definitively some making out on my list tonight.”

“Oh, as long as it’s not with Xavier,” Tyla frets.

Jackie kicks her. “If Y/N makes out with Xavier, I will personally pay Chiron a million dollars to feed both of them to some horrible monster.”

“Supportive,” you muse.

Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”

“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.

Jackie turns around, holding up the back dress. It’s sparkly, a slit up the side, going just to your knees. It’s ruffled at the chest, thin spaghetti straps for the top. You can’t wear it. It’s too much, too revealing.

You look around the room.

Most of your siblings are wearing worse.

And you need to get your mind off her.

“I’m wearing that.”

Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.

You’ll forget about her tonight, you promise yourself.

—-

The bonfire burns high and bright, and even 20 feet away from it the feeling is burning. It’s so hot you’re glad you wore this barely there grass, it frees up your skin to touch the cool summer air.

You, Tyla and Jackie had gratefully taken a few too many sips of the alcohol someone had managed to sneak in and was now passing around.

Everything is so funny in the firelight.

Tyla’s tall heels keep sinking into the grass, and you keep giggling when your own do the same. You’re all holding onto each other, barely able to stand.

There was more nail polish fumes in the cabin than usual, and you’ll swear on your life that it gets to your head.

“Noooooo,” Tyla moans, sinking yet again into the grass. She gasps, pointing at the logs currently abandoned. “I’ll just walk on those!”

Your heels sink into the dirt.

“Me too,” you say, smiling as you grab Tyla’s hand and begin your ascent. Jackie ran off with an Apollo boy a minute ago, the first of your group to leave.

You grab onto each other, laughing boisterously as you keep almost falling.

“I-I can bare-barely stand!” you shout, giggling as you throw your arms to the sides.

“Me either!” Tyla shouts back. She jumps off, walking between the end of that one to the beginning of the next log.

“Hey, do you think I can jump and make it?”

Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m gonna try,” you giggle. “I’m gonna jump!”

“Whoooo!” Tyla shouts, laughing too. This entire night is just about you and your friends and laughter. She starts clapping. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,”

You jump, eyes screwed shut, slamming into something mid air and being brought to the ground.

“Wh-” you mumble, and Tyla let’s out a gasp.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Clarisse scolds, her hands quickly falling from your waist.

And, of course, the first instinct of your intoxicated brain is to start screaming.

Clarisse grabs your arm and drags you off, past the light of the fire and into a space between the cabins. She slaps her hand over your mouth and you shut up.

“Are you going to stop being such a baby now?”

She lets go of your face and you immediately stumble forward so she has to catch you, pressing your finger into her chest.

“You, demon, are not my mother! So, I don’t know what you’re doing.”

She laughs, holding you up.

“Oh, you’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” you correct. “As I was saying, don’t you remember, Clarisse, we will never be something to each other.” You push her away from you, heels sinking into the ground and keeping you upright.

Her face falls.

It’s so dark in here but you’re so close to her you can tell.

“Y/N, I-”

You can’t listen to her talk so softly. Being away from the heat of the fire clears up your brain.

“Where’s Tyla?” her hands fall from your hips. “Tyla?!” you dig you heels out of the mud, finding her sitting on the log, talking animatedly to Matty about something. “Oh,” you mumble.

They’re both so absorbed in each other they don’t hear you. And suddenly, you’re the last one left.

You head to a nearby table and chug a bottle of water, shoving a cupcake into your mouth.

“I’m not gonna be alone tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You look up at the almost full moon. You eyes scan the crowd. Xavier isn’t exactly bad looking, and you just need someone tonight. You need anything.

You don’t know where Clarisse is. You tell yourself you don’t care.

You move through the crowd, adjusting your hair, breathing in and out. You won’t be alone tonight. You won’t.

You spot him sitting off to the side with his friends, the group of them sharing a bottle just like you did.

“Xavier!” you shout. His eyes turn to you immediately. He shoves the bottle into his friends hands, standing up and walking over to you like it was his entire purpose to.

“Y/N,” he eyes you up and down. “You look- you look fucking hot.”

“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”

He follows you, his arm gripped in your hand, you can feel him staring at your ass and you don’t care, dragging him towards the music, towards the dance floor.

His hand is all over your ass, your thigh, your hips, drawing you closer to him as you spin and his other winds it’s way around your face.

He’s not her. You can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about imagining her hands on you.

You put your arms around his neck, dancing in a way that would probably make your mother blush.

When you open your eyes, they’re locked with hers.

She seems to have made her way back to her friends, sitting on a log, leaning against her arm and staring at you. Her hands are clenched the same way they were that day. You can see her, you can see her perfectly and she can see you perfectly. She can see you and him.

Good.

You smile at her, waving the way you would have done to Xavier, except now the roles are reversed. He gets to have you, and she has to watch.

His mouth finds your neck. You laugh, throwing your head back, you don’t imagine her lips there. You just sink into the moment.

When your lips crash against his, there’s nothing except hot, hot desire. Like a blue flame, you’re all teeth and tongue, clashing together in a way that is purely carnal.

His hands are everywhere and you love it. It’s like a game, trying to guess where he’ll go next, and it keeps you so wonderfully distracted.

He tugs at the slit of your dress. You pull away for air.

“N-not here. Not yet.”

His greedy hand remains where it is until you shove it down, laughing lightly.

“Maybe later,” you whisper.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into your neck. “Just let me…” he spins you two around, his hand slips under your dress, against your bare ass.

“Xavier-” you push at his greedy hand again.

“So, so beautiful, like you’re a witch-”

He’s ripped away from you.

You watch in horror as Clarisse grabs him by the front of his shirt and punches him square in the face.

You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.

Xavier only seems to find it funny.

“You fuckin’ jealous, Clarisse?” he laughs. “Fuckin’ jealous, wonder if he’d be proud of you now, beating up his own son for a daughter of Aphrodite?”

She punches him again. Again.

“Fuckin’ jealous?” he says again, laughing, spitting out blood. “Are you fucking jealous?”

One of her siblings finally grabs her and pulls her away. She shoves them off of her.

“I’ll kill you,” she whispers to him. He doesn’t seem scared at all. You stand there and watch, stupidly, feeling like a bird from the skies watching it all unfold, unable to do anything. “Stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her.”

She looks at you, you faintly realize the music’s stopped.

“Clarisse-”

“She’s not yours!” Xavier laughs from the ground. “The weak Aphrodite girl doesn’t belong to you, that’s gotta sting, Clarisse-”

A love spell only change’s one’s emotions towards a person. Their personalities are the same. They way they behave under a love spell is the same way they’d behave in a regular relationship, except with a lasting relentlessness.

“Shut up, Xavier!” you shout. You’re so sick of him. Sick of his bullshit. He can’t even make out with you without thinking about the next step.

You see it fade from his eyes.

It shouldn’t be.

You watch in horror as the spell falls, you realize this all wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to actually kiss him.

“Witch,” he mumbles. He was just moaning that against your cheek a minute ago.

He holds his hands to his already red face.

“You’re a fucking witch.”

Everyone is looking at you, for once in your life, you hate it.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whisper.

Your eyes meet Clarisse’s. You can’t tell what’s on her face. You walk away.

—-

She finds you under the stars. Of course she does. You didn’t know where else to go. Cabin too stuffy. The lake is too far. The only place left is the woods, the spots where you would go with her.

She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.

“Do you need something?” you mutter.

“I was selfish,” she starts.

You snort. Clarisse La Rue is a lot of things, you’ll be here all night.

“And I was hurt. So I took it out on you, which I really, really regret. You didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t true.”

It wasn’t true.

“Um, I was scared. So I made a decision for the both of us. But I’m not scared anymore.”

You place your hand on the grass next to you.

She sits, you don’t look at each other.

“That was all I had planned, but more has happened, so… uh, I was watching you the entire night, I guess. Not in a creepy way. I mean, you look, that dress… I couldn’t take my eyes away. Then you almost killed yourself on the logs.”

You smile.

“And I touched you again and I just, it was so much. Then you were on the dance floor, and he was all over you and- I was jealous. I was so jealous, like, I was actually about to go insane. And I saw you push his hand away, I saw him do it again, and I…”

“Went insane, berserk, crazy? Lost all proprietary?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “All of that. I’m not gonna apologize for punching the shit out of him. But I am sorry for the things I said.”

“Did you mean it?”

She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.

“Mean what?”

“That it wasn’t true.”

“It wasn’t true.”

You finally look at her. It feels so good to let go. To finally look at her, finally see her.

“I-I was just angry, and I-”

You’re sick of hearing her talk.

It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.

Its slow and sweet, heady like syrup, and you feel like you’re sinking beneath the current of some river. Your hands are on her face, she rests hers on your neck.

The kiss was Xavier was pure passion, no love, just bodies and bodies and no thoughts between them. This is all care, this is all slowness, this is all appreciation. It’s faces and faces, singular focus, one intent.

You pull away.

“I was so jealous,” she breathes, like it’s an explanation for the way she grabs you closer, harder, more, kissing you like Xavier did except it’s all erased. You can’t even remember what it feels like for someone else to touch you, let alone kiss you.

It just feels like her. It all feels like her, before her and after her.

When she finally starts to kiss down your neck, it’s so slow again, it’s like she can’t believe you’re in her arms, it’s like she can’t believe she’s got your hands on you. You grab her shoulders, you have her.

You look up towards the sky. Sorry I ever doubted you. Thanks, Mom.

You could see her across from you, you could see her on the dance floor, but now you can see her.

—-

y/n, talking to matty: yes i’m like about to slay amokinesis in a way it has never been slayed before

clarisse, who is NOT catching feelings: what the hell is this bitch doing to my girl

clarisse: ykw… im just gonna…. take her back thank you oh wdym no he’s looking we gotta fake date obvi (clarisse does not care if he’s looking)

—-

y/n, about to fucking die: i’m a bird! i’m jumping!

clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!

—-

clarisse when y/n is dancing in THE DRESS: oh i’m bricked up

—-

clarisse: if this bitch doesn’t get OFF my girl i’m gonna KILL SOMEONE

literally everyone: YOUR girl????

clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him

everyone: not a logical solution???

—-

shoutout to jackie, tyla, and matty the loves of my life COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT THEM

also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison

[opal-owl-flight]

Your Protege. (Pt 2)

(Pt 1)

SAME DAY DELIVERY. HERE WE GO.

This is the only time theyve shown such sheer anger in front of anyone. Theyre usually just cold, or disappointed -- never furious.

Its one of the times Neo3 actually feared the captain.

MORE NOTES ABT CUTTLEFISH BELOW

Not over how Cuttlefish is this fuckign loony old man who pushes his ideas on young 3, constantly goinf "yall kids think Im crazy but LOOK WHOS RIGHT FOR ONCE", "I cant fight anymore, thats why I got you!", "Youre hero material, kid! Youre gonna be big!!"

Then raves abt how the Octarians are evil

3, who was desperate for praise from someone who reminds them of their direct relatives, does everything he says to do just to be appreciated more.

Cuttlefish taught them how to fight hand to hand. How to move and think on their feet. (Though they were given similar in their younger years)

Cuttlefish was... generally more warm and supportive than their dad, but yknow. A lot of this started bc 3 agreed to work for him. Be his deadly weapon.

-------

Cuttlefish was more concerned abt the Zapfish than 3s well-being then... He knew that the constant praising was working so hes gonna keep doing it. (...mostly bc thats what worked on HIM back then)

After 3 does his dirty work, he realized he should probably keep the kid around bc his paranoia with Octaria is a damn bitch and this kid is one hell of an ass kicker. They dont mind. Right??

3 never showed any sign of wanting to leave. Why would they, he was so kind to them, more than their dad or grandad ever was. (Also the paranoia rubbed off on them. Oops!)

Then, he asked them to go on a longer patrol with him. Pushed them to their fucking limit. Bc of what?? Octaria making moves again? (Octavio did make moves but they were already, as we say in the game, "too far from the objective to really contribute to the fight". This is why agent 4 was dragged in.)

There, 3 saw more and more that hes just a loony old man who wanted to have a fancy weapon to protect him in his crusade. A crusade they never really questioned, mind you. Theyve no reason to believe Octaria was nice in any way, not when they keep trying to kill them. (...in self defense. They havent realized, yet.)

Then they encounter 8, who had dropped her weapon at the sight of them. Raising her hands in surrender. 3 was far ahead of the coot, and managed to actually talk to her and everything. They were this close to bringing her back to Inkopolis as a friend, until the bastard ruined the moment.

Cuttlefish still told them that she was a danger. It might be a trick! Dont put your guard down! Pressured to follow their superior, 3s mask returns to their face, turning onto 8 with the herl shot ready to fire.

Then they all tumbled into the metro.......

....for Cuttlefish to use yet ANOTHER kid (8) to get him out of a hairy situation.

--------

Hes a crazy old man. Only caring for any of the kids beyond the platoon after they do his dirty work.

Like "mmm! Thank you for committing the war crimes in my stead. Youre a good kid, you know that? Anything I can do to support you further? Mmmm???"

...I dont think hes aware.

Hes not aware that hes harming the entire platoon, bc in his mind hes doing the greater good here. Get some easily manipulable kids on the street, shower em with praise and promises of glory and valor, and theyll do ANYTHING for you.

Including the warcrimes you keep wanting to do.

I think...I think he doesnt know hes manipulating the kids. I think he genuinely believes his own promises. He glamorizes the valor of war bc hes a commander who sits in the back of it. He really believes that this is for the best. He believes that this is how you inspire your troops to fight.

--------

LETS GO THATS ALL MY NOTES I SPENT ALL DAY FINISHING THIS COMIC. GOODNIGHT INKOPOLIS!!!

[skitskatdacat63]

Process :]

“Amore et Timore” - King Fernando I “El Animoso”

[thepitlanepress]

WHERE THE TRUTH HIDES [4] –

↳ lando norris + singer!piastri!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: look whats here!! pt threeeee !! sorry thats its lowkey messy, weirdly short and for the long wait ALSO pls ignore the spelling mistakes in some of the texts i was awfully sleep deprived when i made that 😭😭😭

⌗ :: pt1 ;; a bet not so bad ,, pt2 ;; sports car ,, pt3 ;; chaos

–

–

–

f1gossipofficial

liked by 4, 982, 640 others

f1gossipofficial y/n l/n and lando norris were caught in a compromising position at a london restaurant this weekend. is lando norris' bachelor era coming to an end?

view all comments

user1 WAR IS OVERRRRRRR

user2 im free im finally able to be happy again.

user3 a little weird that the paparazzi followed them into the restaurant

user4 when does the paparazzi ever respect boundaries tho

user5 how does oscar feel about this?

oscarpiastri not good.

user6 LMAOOO 😭😭 GWS

user6 they should've been the ones to announce it tho not some asshole stalker

user7 fr its another relationship foiled bc of a possible headline

–

–

ynofficial

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lnfour, charles_leclerc, and 9, 482, 698 others

ynofficial well since its out now... its me and MY dork against the world ❤️❤️

tagged: landonorris

view all comments

landonorris malfunctioning i can be honry on main now

oscarpiastri no you can not.

mclaren YOU CAN NOT????

user1 did u win at least in the karting?

ynofficial i did hehe 🤭🤭

landonorris shut up only because i let you

user2 never going to forgive the paparazzi for leaking this before they got to announce it

user3 lando is now entering his bf era and i am HERE FOR IT

oscarpiastri i just threw up a little

ynofficial oopsie daisies

–

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lnfour, charles_leclerc, ynofficial and 10, 649, 258 others

landonorris me and MY dork against the world ❤️❤️ i love you so much you freakshow <3

tagged: ynofficial

view all comments

user1 its the moment i've been waiting forr eeeeeeekk

user2 wait what??? when did this happen???

user3 are you new here?? its literally all we've been talking about for WEEKS

ynofficial love youuuuu

landonorris love you more ❤️

oscarpiastri i hate you both

user4 poor oscar is going to have to deal with their nonsense now 😭😭

user5 lando only posting them is my new fave thing.

user6 literally watch this lnfour and his jpg account turn into y/n fan accounts now

user7 i can feel the fan edits coming on

–

ynofficial

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, landonorris, oliviarodrigo, taylorswift and 12, 499, 674 others

ynofficial so i lied.... so close to what is out now oop-

i literally cannot express how excited i am to share this with you all !!!! its been my pet project over the last few years and possibly one of my fave albums ive ever written 🤭🤭🤭.

and before you start rumours.... some of them are about lando (the happy ones)

bye noww you'll never see me again....

view all comments

user1 DROPPING THIS RANDOMLY EXCUSE ME??? WHYYYY I WASNT READY

user2 im not okay rn

landonorris i should be the muse for all of your songs from now on

user3 im on the floor wtf is history of man y/n OH MY GOD 😭😭😭😭

user4 it is NOT about lando i refuse

oscarpiastri proud of you!! half the songs scarred me

ynofficial mwah osc !! we dont talk about those songs...

user5 fave album ever

user6 literally when are the tour tickets coming out?

user7 let her finish the one shes on now??? 😭😭😭😭

user8 MOTHER IS MOTHERINGGGG

user9 WDYM NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN???

–

[ five weeks later there has been radio silence ]

lando.jpg

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lnfour, ynofficial, and 7, 484, 922 others

lando.jpg vacation timeee !!! shes so shdgsajds

view all comments

user1 lando this after five weeks of nothing on any of your accounts is diabolical

user2 sigh we're getting fed today...

user3 i love them omg omg omg

landonorris im actually a photographer.

ynofficial u did well baby

user4 SMASH OH MY GOD MOTHERRRRR

landonorris shes mine nuh uh

–

an: i ran out of image space 😭😭

𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

@arqbella, @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt, @stilesks, @prudyhoo, @cherry-piee,

@aeplandos, @kodeelynn, @ellelabelle, @widow-cevans, @freyathehuntress

@landossainz, @screamingwines,

[ if you would like to be added or removed let me know! ]

[solar-wing]

⚣ Submission 🗣️

⚣🗣️ A/N → Something I couldn't get out of my head after I saw this TikTok. You can't tell me this wouldn't be Jason in this situation. WARNINGS: none

⚣🗣️ Summary → Imagine being in a relationship with Jason Todd where you know Jason could easily beat you in a fight but it never stops you from talking shit as if you’ll fuck him up, and he just lets you…

⚣🗣️ Words → 851

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🗣️

It’s not something Jason admits he finds amusing and adorable about you, but the fact that he lets you do it without any real pushback is telling enough. Because imagine, this towering and colossal-sized man, definitely over 6 feet and huge mass with the muscles to show and is a trained fighter (no matter how informal), getting beaten in a fight between him and his shorter and/or smaller boyfriend.

And it’s not to say you could never beat him in a fight, oh no! Your Jaybirdie would never want you to believe he doubts your capability and skills like that. Actually, he’d very much like and would encourage you to be able to learn how to take him down. It would help with his anxiety and fear of you being out in the world without him there to protect you, feeling more at ease knowing you could defend yourself if need be.

He’s definitely planning to make that a reality, because if you two are going to continue to be in a relationship, Jason needs to know that you can protect yourself without him there. It’s something you both talked about and he made it clear when you first got into a serious relationship about him and his family’s side careers.

But, until then, Jason will happily and silently enjoy the trash-talking and play fights with you. It just gives him more of an excuse to have your body rubbing against his, the perv…

It always starts small and silly.

Whether you’re just feeling playful or want attention, it doesn’t matter. You and Jason will be cuddling on the couch or the bed and engaging in your usual harmless domestic banter. Or he’ll be minding his own business cooking, reading, or going over cases and reports, and you’ll just come up and start messing with him.

Messing up his hair, poking him in his face, slapping his butt, and shoving against his body. Despite popular belief, Jason has a somewhat good level of patience and will endure it, but then you start talking shit.

“Oh, was that important? Looks like you’ll need to start over,” You’ll say after purposely jerking his hand while he was writing notes down on a mission report.

“Oops, looks like you dropped something. You’re so freaking clumsy,” said with a jeering tone after knocking the book Jason was reading out of his hands.

“Aww, is the little baby getting upset? Don’t cry baby, it’ll be okay,” You’ll respond in the most insulting baby voice knowing how much Jason despises it and usually ends up being his last straw.

The vigilante will give a soft shove and a warning look to you and that’s all you need. You’ll start taunting him even more and pushing yourself against him, grabbing at his wrists and arms as he holds you back.

“You feeling tough all of sudden? Am I going to have to mess you up like last time?”

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The next moment, Jason’s patience has officially run out and now, the two of you are rolling around on the bed, couch, and floor trying to pin the other. Well, you’re trying to pin him.

Jason’s just holding you off with ease and letting you slip out of his grabs now and then, letting you think you’ve got a chance. Of course, that leads to more shit-talking.

“Man, what kind of criminals are you fighting? You’re no match for me.”

Of course, as things will go when it comes to wrestling between two males, it eventually gets a little out of hand. You’ll shove Jason too hard, accidentally land a hit on his face or nether region, or you’ll even purposefully try to cheat to which your boyfriend responds by immediately putting you in a submission.

Never anything too rough or painful, just enough to immobilize you until you calm down and stop fighting back. But, even the non-painful ones are a bit much for you since you’re not used to fighting like Jason is, so you’ll typically give in within a few seconds, especially when he puts a little pressure on you and jerks you a bit as payback for all the trash talk.

It doesn’t stop you though, since as soon as you’re both done and back to whatever you were doing, you’ll continue to talk shit at your boyfriend like you had him in submission.

“Hopefully you learned your lesson.”

“We can clearly see who the big guy is in this relationship now. Don’t worry little man, maybe you’ll win again next time.”

“Light work. Maybe we should get you some classes small fry.”

And so much more trash-talking and playful jabs until the next round. But, Jason doesn’t mind. As long as he’s the one getting to put you in a submission at the end, he’ll let you trash-talk him all day, every day.

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️