#or they get pissed at the show for apparently 'making him worse' but. he was already worse

[mychlapci]

Skystar centaurformers

The ranch hands buy a new horse for the ranch, and when the cart bring the new comer came all centaurs ventured to view the new guy especially when a MASSIVE cart was wheeled in on the back of the car bringing them in. No bot on the ranch handlers and all every saw a crate so huge bone in even for the heftier of the bunch like Megatron or Magnus.

When the doors open everyone expects some scarred up monster to come out but instead it’s a monster only in size but by appearance an absolutely sweetheart looking centaur.

Everyone is silently watching until loud screams and noise is heard coming in fast. Everyone turns to see Starscream running and hoping fences faster than they’ve ever seen him before. He never ran that far in races or even from Megatron at his worse! And he was coming in hot for the new comer. Sure Star was never the friendliest of centaurs even with the small handful of centaurs he allows near him (TC/SKYWARP/KO/BD) But he’s never outright charged anyone like that.

When the large horse, Skyfire saw this he too screamed at the sight of Starscream but it didn’t sound of one of fear especially when he broke the cart like it was made of dust and ran in the direction of Starscream too. The handlers were all getting the Tranquilizer ready for both centaurs to stop what they all thought was gonna be a fight until Starscream practically jumped into the arms of the bigger bot and Skyfire hugged and held him in return.

It wasn’t until later that day and an unknown number of failed attempts to separate the two did handlers read more of Skyfire’s papers to see that the two apparently had history. Grew up on the same ranch when young, were apparently good friends. Then a giant blizzard came and desecrated the old ranch. Many of the centaurs either died or got lost in the snow. Starscream and a few others were the only ones saved from the storm and eventually sold off to better ranches. Sky was assumed dead for months like the others that were found and lost but it was revealed he managed to run off to a different farm for shelter and the handlers kept him there until the sale of today.

It explains why Starscream was so hard to buy in the beginning years back, refusing to leave his old ranch even when it was nothing more but shambles in the ground looking off into the distance as if something was waiting.

I mean good to know they weren’t gonna have fights on the grounds. Or at least more than they already do.

A few weeks past and Skyfire was making gold with nearly all centaurs on the ranch or at least he was when Starscream let him out of his sights. It was actually a bit comical. Sky was a goddamn Goliath of a centaur and this small skinny thing that was Starscream was basically holding him all to himself.

Eventually though things started changing. Starscream wasn’t looking too good. His runs were slower, pretty bad for a top race horse, and he was limping a lot. Giving Starscream a check up was already hard but in this cases it was worse. At first it was assumed Megatron was hurting Starscream again so they Moved him to a different section of the ranch. It pissed off Megatron as he didn’t do Shit, this time. And he has to watch his mate (Optimus) his heat was soon and schedules be damned he was hitting that this season.

That event brought some joy to Starscream, and it even showed some improvement to his physical form. However it didn’t take too long for the handlers to see the REAL cause of Starscream’s lower performances. It all started on a day were they were doing headcount’s of the cattle, Drift and Ratchet, checked, Preggers Rodimus and Magnus, Check, Knockout and Breakdown, Check, the trine + the newcomer Skyfire. . . .not checked Starscream and Skyfire were missing and that raised some brows. Starscream while difficult was never absent from checks or outside of his usual areas, and Skyfire was usually now wherever Star and his friends were or even with the autobot cattle sometimes.

As the handler searched for the missing two they came upon a sight that no matter how many drinks of hard energon or scrapping from his memory banks it will haunt him forever.

Starscream was basically what the ranchers were doubting unbreedable. No matter the decoys or even the partners Starscream would never comply. Even collecting his fluids to sell them was a difficult task. But here it is……..burned into this poor poor ranchers mind forever.

Starscream was holding on to dear life on a small wall with his front horse legs and a beam infront of him on the ceiling with his more bot upper half as Skyfire was ramming away from him at the back. The sight….the sight could only be described as an industrial jackhammer trying to thread its head into a sewing needle, but Starscream was taking it all in. Even by regular centaur standards Skyfire was huge and looking at his cock, that thing was just as much of a monster in size as him. And yet there was Starscream through haggard breaths and tears in his eyes taking it all and begging for more. It’s obviously Sky is trying to be gentle but with that size gentle just couldn’t happen.

The handler just walks out the door of the very much occupied building of the barn and lets the two finish. As they get back to the other farm hands they tell them all to start prepping for another unscheduled pregnancy of one of the top racing horses and to start Starscream of all Centaurs on a carrying schedule.

Also to bring back Megatron.

He missed Optimus’s heat and a different stud was chosen to breed him while he was away. Now he’s mad but Starscream is happy with all of the events. Happy but limping and full.

that’s so funny he ruined everyone’s time and got his. good for him good for him. maybe too good.

[hunkadorusrex]

So APPARENTLY the outsiders has me in a choke hold again lmao.

Enjoy!

_____

Ponyboy Curtis Is Having a Bad Day (And Curly Shepard Is Having an Extremely Confusingly Good One)

Curly does not go to school.

Not really. Not for any actual school-related reasons, anyway.

But today? Today he's here. Loitering. Just so happens to be near Ponyboy’s locker. Completely by coincidence.

Look, he's not obvious about it.

(…Okay, maybe he’s a little obvious about it.)

And honestly, he's not even thinking much about it—just waiting for Pony to get out of gym so he can... what? Bother him? Harass him? Maybe sneak a little touch in the hallway when no one's looking?

Whatever. He’ll figure it out when he sees him.

Only—

There’s a shift in the hallway. A ripple of attention. Kids whispering, laughing, turning to stare at something.

Curly frowns. Turns his head.

And sees Ponyboy Curtis marching down the hallway in a skirt.

Curly’s entire brain malfunctions.

There is so much leg.

So much.

Curly has seen every part of Ponyboy Curtis before—up close, in the dark, in secret—but this is something new.

His stomach drops out of his body. His lungs quit their job.

It's short. Pony's already got long, lean legs, and the skirt somehow makes them look longer.

Curly has no idea what to do with himself. He can feel his own face going hot.

He was not prepared for this. He didn’t even know he had this kind of reaction in him. He didn’t know his brain did that.

And yet.

Ponyboy gets close—close enough that Curly is seconds from making a mistake out loud—and jabs a finger in his face.

"Not one word."

And then he keeps going. Stomping away, completely unaware that he’s just restructured something fundamental in Curly’s head.

Curly physically has to reboot.

Like, literally. He blinks hard, swallows twice, drags a hand down his own face and—

Oh.

Oh, it gets worse. Or Better.

Whatever.

Because now there’s a group of Socs further down the hall, and they’ve noticed Ponyboy too.

They start catcalling. Whistling. Laughing their shitty little laughs. Saying bullshit like—

"Look at you, Curtis, putting on a show for us—”

"Didn't know you were that kind of boy—"

"Damn, those legs, though—"

Curly is so busy seeing red that he almost doesn’t notice when—

Pony grabs one of them by the collar and slams him against the lockers.

It is unbelievably hot.

Curly forgets to move for a full second, utterly captivated.

The Soc barely has time to blink before Pony snarls—

"You think you're funny, huh?"

—right before he swings.

Curly has never loved anyone more.

Then it’s a fight.

Curly jolts forward like his instincts just kicked back online. Pony might be scary when he’s pissed, but there’s too many of these guys, and fuck that, Curly isn’t about to let his—

(…his what?)

—get jumped in a skirt.

Several other Greasers get involved, and now it’s a full-blown rumble.

Teachers start screaming. Someone gets tackled over a lunch tray.

Curly takes a punch to the face, grinning.

His day started normal and is now the best day of his life.

---

They get dragged apart. Hauled to the principal’s office.

Curly is still grinning, lip split, while Pony sits next to him in his little tiny skirt, looking zero percent regretful about anything.

The principal sighs the sigh of a man who is extremely tired of this shit.

“Someone wanna tell me what the hell that was about?”

Pony just crosses his arms.

“They stole my pants,” he says flatly.

Curly presses his knuckles to his mouth. Because if he laughs right now, he's pretty sure he won't stop.

Best. Day. Ever.

[cruel-as-sin]

you like to say that you're right | logan howlett

↳ summary: you’re bored when you and logan are about to be on the way home. so, you decide to have a little fun… but the consequences might be worse than you imagined

word count: 4.2k

song: #icanteven | the neighbourhood

pairings: old man!logan x fem!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn light plot, unprotected p in v (practice safe sex everyone!), established relationship, fingering, mean!logan, bratty reader, orgasm denial, rough sex, a little bondage, spanking (a couple times), predator/prey dynamics if you squint (listen….), possessive!logan, lots of marks and bruises, reader has a serious degradation kink, hair pulling, reader flirts with someone else to piss off logan (plays into their established dynamic), hints of misogyny (not from logan), aftercare, no use of y/n, pet names for reader - baby, sweetheart, whore, brat; consent is key here y’all (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: okay so this wasn't supposed to be what i wrote next but i remembered a dream i had like a month ago at this point that started JUST like this does and i couldn't not deliver... so have some insight into the way my feral subconscious mind works lmao

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Logan knows how much you love to push his buttons. But even for you, this is a new level of crazy.

His grip on the steering wheel leaves his knuckles white as he watches you go. Across the parking lot, through the building of some random store. He’s pretty sure he can see some bullshit comic on display in the window.

When he catches you, you are in for it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Five minutes.

That's how long you have before Logan follows you into the shop and rains down hell upon you.

Your heart has been pounding nonstop since you leaned over to him from the passenger seat of the limo, your eyes flickering past him to the couple on the curb. The girl was trying- and failing- to flirt with him, and even from that distance it was clear he was uninterested.

“You know,” You began. “That girl really can’t take a hint. It’s a little embarrassing.”

His eyes flickered over to you for a moment, narrowing at your tone of voice. “What are you doin’?”

“Nothing.” You said innocently. “I’m just saying, someone ought to go over there and show her how it’s done.”

“She’ll figure it out eventually.” He said dismissively, not buying into whatever scheme you’re trying to plan.

You hummed, leaning in a little further. “Guess it shouldn’t be me though, huh? Since apparently I can’t fucking get any other guys but you.”

Your words were an echo of his own a few days prior, one of the things he’d said when he was balls deep in you. You’d loved it, of course you did. You got off on him being mean to you, because you knew he never meant a word of it. And he told you as much at the end of every night, soft words and gentle kisses lulling you to sleep, wrapped in the safety of his strong arms and sworn promises.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t use this to have a little fun.

So that’s exactly what you’d planned. His gaze had landed on you again, eyes narrowing further, his tone shifting to more of a warning. “Watch it.”

You’d only gone to this plaza to pick up some medicine for Charles- done. But you didn’t need to be back across the border for a while. So it wouldn’t hurt to, say, go into the bookstore across the street and have a look around.

“I bet I can pull any guy in there.” You said, pointing at the bookstore that rests across the parking lot outside your window.

“Is that so?” He was taking the bait- he couldn’t help it. He always did.

“Mhm. Give me five minutes, and I’ll have one of those poor boys wrapped around my finger.” You giggled. Giggled, as if your boyfriend wasn’t glaring daggers through you.

It was his turn to lean in, whispering in your ear. “If you go in there, sweetheart, I’m gonna make sure you can’t stand for the next week. You got that?”

His threat sent a pang of heat to your core. Sure, maybe this was stupid, because even if you did pull a guy, that would only piss him off more, but that’s why you liked it.

You gave him a coy smile before leaning over to open your door. “Five minutes.” Come and get me.

From the moment you got out of the car, you knew you'd fucked up- because he let you. You could feel his stare burning into you as you closed the door behind you, your heart beating so loud you were certain he'd be able to hear it the entire way through the parking lot.

Your steps were quick, hurried- not panicked, but there was a sense of urgency to your movements. The whole time you were walking through the parking lot, you wondered if this was a mistake, if you should just turn back now, fall to your knees and beg for his forgiveness before this went too far.

But it's too late now. You've already slipped through the door of the small establishment, sealing your fate with the ding of the bell and a click behind you.

The woman behind the counter looks up at you with a polite smile. "Welcome in! Is there anything I can help you find today?"

You return the smile with a slight shake of your head. "No, thank you. I'm just browsing."

She nods. "Let me know if you need any assistance."

You glance around the room, finding what you were looking for- a set of wooden steps, leading down to a basement. You head down slowly, finding the room below filled with comic books, action figures, and all sorts of trinkets.

Truthfully, you'd like to stay and look. But you're not here for that.

Pretty quickly, you spot a guy eyeing up the comic book section, as if he's searching for something in particular. You try the classic trick of wandering around the room appearing confused, wondering if he'll take the bait.

And, of course, he does. For a moment you almost feel bad that you're about to lead him on (and maybe bring down the wrath of your surely very angry boyfriend), but then he opens his mouth and all your regrets fly right out the window.

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He says as he sidles up next to you. "Oh, you must be looking for a gift for someone, right?"

Yeah. Right. You internally roll your eyes, turning to face him with a wide smile.

"Actually, I was kind of hoping to start reading some comics myself." You admit, pretending to sound a little ashamed about it. "But I don't really know where to start." Your eyes light up, and before he can get out some sort of misogynistic remark, you continue. "You look like you know a lot about this stuff! Do you think you could help me?" You bite your lip in a nervous sort of way and bat your eyelashes at him.

Although he hides it, you can see him short-circuit for a moment, probably not used to so much attention from a pretty girl. I wonder why. But he comes back to his senses. "Of course I can. I'd be happy to help." He begins heading toward a set of shelves, and you follow him. "So many women get lost in this sort of stuff these days. They have no idea where to start, and just end up getting confused. I wouldn't want that to happen to you."

If Logan wasn't t-3 minutes away from storming down the stairwell, you'd punch this guy in the face.

Instead you smile at him like he's the smartest guy in the world. "Yeah, me neither. I was really worried I wouldn't be able to figure out what I wanted." You say with a giggle. "I mean, there's so many of them." You add, gesturing to the long shelves filled with comic books.

Honestly, you don’t even remember what the guy says next, or what you say back. You’re too busy thinking about Logan- he’s the real reason why you’re here, after all.

You know Logan is on his way. He has to be. And knowing that means knowing your punishment is imminent.

It's exhilarating, it's terrifying- but in a good way, in the best way. The hunt, the chase, the lying in wait for him to catch you- it’s one of the most incredible feelings in the world. And you know he loves it too.

The guy off-handedly and quite awkwardly mentions how he goes to a local store nearby for fan meetups, and you enthusiastically tell him you’d love to go with him someday. Blech.

Ding.

Even from down here, you pick up on it. You don't need anything else to know that it's him.

You swallow nervously, trying to keep your heart from jumping out of your throat. This was absolutely a mistake, the kind that was going to leave you begging for mercy the moment you two got home.

...but in for a penny, in for a pound, right?

He's already at the top of the stairwell when you reach out and put your hand on the other man's arm, laughing at whatever joke he'd just made- you hadn't even heard him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

Logan is down the stairs in seconds, a hand wrapping around your arm in an iron grip as he pulls you away from the guy. The guy takes a step back- it doesn’t take a genius to see the fury in Logan’s eyes as he leans down to mutter to you. "Come on. We're leaving."

You pout up at him, tugging lightly against his grip. “But I wanna stay and look at the comic books, baby.” An idea comes to mind, and you can’t suppress your grin. “Plus, I think some of them might have you in them!”

The guy is long gone now, and Logan is not amused by your attempt at a joke, his voice dropping to a tone you know even at your worst moments not to mess with. "Unless you want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here like the brat you are, move. Now."

Yeah. Okay. You nod, squeaking out an “Mhm!” before he starts pulling you away.

As he drags you up the stairwell, you regain some of your composure and lean towards his ear to whisper. "Relax, baby. We wouldn't want to make a scene."

You're playing with fire and you know it- but he relents, his grip on your arm loosening, his hand instead reaching down to lace with your own, a hold that's just firm enough to remind you of who's in charge here. "Walk." He mutters under his breath, his voice a low, rough tone that sends a chill down your spine.

And so you do, waving a cheerful goodbye at the woman behind the counter and trying to pretend like you're not beading with sweat and dripping with arousal. Logan keeps his hand tightly laced with yours as you walk into the parking lot, opening the car door and giving you a gentle push into the passenger seat before slamming the door on you.

You get a single moment of peace before he comes around to the drivers side, getting in and starting up the car. You put on your seatbelt, knowing you've pushed your luck too far now to disobey him any further.

You open your mouth to speak, to try to diffuse the situation, but the look in his eyes as he drives silences you.

He shakes his head, muttering under his breath. "Had to go and piss me off, didn't you sweetheart?"

"It's not like I actually wanted him." You lean back in your seat, unable to foresee the consequences of your words until it's too late. "He was a misogynistic asshole. I should've punched him in the face." You grumble the last part under your breath, more for yourself than for Logan- but of course, he hears it anyway.

Slowly, he turns, his eyes landing on you.

"But you didn't, did you?"

You swallow, unable to get past the dryness in your throat and attempt to poorly defend yourself before he keeps going.

"No. You made him feel like he was somethin' special, actin' like you'd ever be with anyone but me." He shakes his head again, a chuckle escaping him. "Seems like I need to teach you a lesson."

Before you know it, you're home, the glowing light of sunset coming through the windows. Your pleas die on your lips as he comes to your side of the car, opening the door and dragging you outside and up the sidewalk.

"You know I didn't mean it, Lo-" You whine.

"Stop fuckin' talking." He grabs your jaw, holding it in place, squeezing your cheeks in a little too tightly- but you like it. "Just 'cause you didn't mean it doesn't mean you don't get in trouble, baby. That's not how it works."

Wordlessly, you nod. As best you can, anyway, given his death grip on your chin.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Get inside." He releases you with a rough shove, and you fumble for your keys when you get to the door, some part of your subconscious trying to delay the inevitable- no, trying to draw it out, because you love this feeling.

He follows you in, and he doesn't even have to tell you to head to the bedroom- he just gives a pointed nod towards the hallway, and you obey.

He corners you immediately, his large frame boxing you in against the wall. "You've been a bad, bad girl, sweetheart." One of his hands grips your waist.

"I didn't mean it-" You protest, but your words quickly turn to a sharp whine as he grabs a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back.

"What did I say?" His tone drops lower, a raspy sound that makes heat pool in your gut.

Instead of continuing to argue, you just nod, another gasp escaping you when he tightens his grip and pulls a little harder.

He leans in, his breath fanning across your neck, his teeth scraping your pulse point in the teasing way he knows to be your weakness. His mouth comes up beside your ear, a soft murmur that's by far the gentlest thing you're going to hear until he's done with you. "You remember your safe word, baby?"

You nod, whispering it back to him in confirmation.

"Atta girl." He says approvingly, pulling away and returning his mouth to your throat. His grip on your hair keeps your head back, exposing your neck perfectly to him. He nips and sucks at the skin, leaving marks that won't go away for days- claiming you.

He pulls back for a moment to admire his handiwork. You lean in to kiss him, but a tug at your hair pulls you back, stopping you. "You think you deserve that?”

A frown comes to rest on your face, but you shake your head.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He loosens his grip just a little. “You don’t get my fuckin’ mouth unless I’m puttin’ these on you, you understand?” He leans back in, pausing to murmur against your throat, “Lettin’ everybody know who you belong to.”

You nod in agreement- not like you have much of a choice- and he seems satisfied, nipping at your neck again. When he’s finished- Jesus Christ, you won’t be able to go out for days- he steps away, shrugging his blazer off of his shoulders and draping it atop the dresser.

His eyes are on you, a menacing stare that had you swallowing nervously before he’s even opened his mouth. “Strip.”

You don't hesitate to do as he says. You don't take your time, you don't give him a show- not tonight. You're smart enough not to fuck around now. Your clothes come off quickly- your shirt pulled over your head and tossed to the side, your bra unclasped and landing near the door, your pants and underwear pulled down in one swift motion and left pooled at your feet.

Logan wastes no time, wrapping his arms around your waste and picking you up with ease. He lays you down on the bed, mouth trailing down your body at a tantalizingly slow pace, leaving hickeys at every turn- you don’t even want to think about what you’ll look like tomorrow morning.

Finally, he reaches your thighs, and you inhale sharply as he leaves marks there too. Those always sting the most. Usually, he’d soothe the pain by moving his tongue to your clit, but his mouth strays nowhere near it today.

Instead he leans back, one of his hands trailing down your chest, the other holding you in place. His fingers move down past your clit, immediately heading to the wetness glistening between your folds. He swipes a finger through it, humming approvingly before he slowly works a finger inside you.

No matter how many times he’s filled you up this way, you’re always in awe of how even just one of his fingers can go so deep, please you so well. Your head is thrown back in bliss, and it isn’t long before a second one of his fingers joins the first.

He crooks his fingers up inside you, grinning when he hits that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. "There we go, that's the spot." You want to thank him, to verbally affirm his claims- but the moans leaving your lips will hopefully be enough to assure him that yes, that is the spot, and oh god please don’t stop.

It’s good, but not enough- and he knows it. He doesn’t touch your clit, doesn’t give you that final push over the edge. Instead he pulls his fingers out, placing them in your mouth. He doesn’t even want to taste you tonight. Obediently, you suck them clean, and he hums in satisfaction as he steps away, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

"Hands and knees, sweetheart." You do as you're told, a shudder going through you at the sound of his belt unbuckling. He roughly grabs your wrists, pinning them behind your back and securing them together with his belt. Moments later, you feel the tip of his cock press against your dripping folds.

You whine, instinctively trying to push back against him. One of his hands goes to your hair, grabbing it and holding you in place, while the other brings down a harsh smack against your ass. "Stay fuckin' put."

Another whine leaves your lips, but you bite your lip and stay still even as he smacks your ass again. "Say it." He growls, not taking your silence as an answer.

You nod furiously. “I’ll be good.” You say through shaky breaths.

“Good.” His hands move down to grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh so tightly you're sure you'll be covered in bruises the next morning.

He pushes into you slowly, stretching you out in a way that burns just how you like it. He gives you a moment to adjust- only a moment- before he pulls all the way out and slams back into you.

The pace he sets is nothing short of brutal, and he’s pretty quickly reduced you to a shaking mess. Still, as always, it’s not enough. You need more, you need him, you need-

"Lo-" You gasp, barely able to get out his name.

"Hm?" He seems entirely unbothered, his tone barely changed, as if he’s not currently fucking you senseless.

"I need-”

"What's that, baby?" He hums, thrusting harder. "Speak up, I can't hear you."

You can only respond with a broken moan, your words dying on your lips.

"Guess you must not want it that bad then." You can hear that cocky fucking smirk on his face, can practically see it when you close your eyes.

"Need to cum." You whine, your words slurred and almost incomprehensible.

"Oh, you think I'm gonna let you cum, sweetheart?" He scoffs, the condescension in his tone going straight to the pulse in your core. "After the shit you pulled, you think you earned that?"

“Please-” You beg. “Please, Lo, please, I’m sorry, please let me cum, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, just let me cum, please, I didn’t mean it, you know I didn’t mean it-” You’ve lost track of what you’re even saying at this point, desperately racking your brain for anything you could say to convince him to let you cum, to move his fingers down to your clit and rub it in those sweet little circles that will have you coming undone in moments. “Lo, baby- Logan, please, I need to cum, please-” Your words die down into nothing but desperation, a few words barely able to be made out amongst the rest of your nonsense.

Surely, he must let you cum now. You’ve (metaphorically) groveled for him, that’s always worked before.

But his hands stay right where they are.

It's a little embarrassing, but you never could cum without pressure on your clit. Logan is the only man you've ever met who hasn't judged you for it, hasn't let it be a blow to his self-esteem- though you're sure in the back of his mind he's made it a personal challenge to do it anyway. Today, it seems he's taking up that challenge- or he's just really, really fucking pissed off. It’s something of a weakness. On occasion, he’s used it against you, but never like this.

It's a lose-lose. Either you cum from his dick alone, and his ego shoots through the roof because you proved him right- or you don't get to cum at all, and he's satisfied that you've learned your lesson.

He's got you backed into a corner, right where he wants you. The corner, in this instance, being the bedsheets your face is now being squished into, your shaky knees threatening to give out as he continues to pound into you relentlessly, one of his hands still grabbing your hips as his other keeps your head firmly against the pillow.

It’s too much but also not enough, overwhelming you beyond comprehension yet you somehow still want more.

And Jesus fucking Christ, you think you might actually cum.

You try to tell him, to warn him, in case he truly doesn’t want to let you, but you can’t form words, let alone sentences. Instead all that comes out are increasingly high-pitched whines and gasps as your knees buckle and he hits spots so deep inside of you, you think you might pass out.

Finally, you manage his name again. “Logan-” You want to tell him, but instead you just keep going, his name falling from your lips like a mantra, a prayer. “Loganloganloganloganlogan-”

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” His thrusts become harsher, somehow impossibly deeper, reducing your prayers to nothing but babbled moans again. You don’t answer him- you can’t, how could you, with the way he’s hammering his cock into you right now?

“Words, baby.” He says sternly, but you both know you’re too far gone. Instead you just nod, pressing your face into the pillow in an attempt to muffle your cries. He grabs your hair, pulling your head up. “Go on. Wanna hear you cum for me. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock, you know you want to. Let everyone know who you fuckin’ belong to, who owns this pussy.”

You don’t think about the consequences this might have for his ego, or the way you’re not going to be able to walk for days, or the fact that maybe your neighbors might actually hear when you scream his name.

“God, you’re such a whore.” He mocks. “Pathetic.”

You aren’t even ashamed when his dirty words are the thing to push you over the edge.

You just let go.

His name rings in your ears as you scream, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train, hard and fast. You can barely hear his grunts through the cloud of ecstasy you’re floating on, “There we go. Knew you could do it, knew you had it in you- fuck, sweetheart-” He growls, and moments later you feel him twitching inside of you as his own bliss hits, causing your orgasm to just keep fucking going.

Eventually, when both of you are done shaking, Logan pulls out of you. He flips you onto your back, his once mean grip now gentle as he wraps his body around yours as you try to breathe. Soft kisses pepper your forehead, your face, your lips, your neck- anywhere and everywhere he can reach, his beard tickling your skin. His hold is firm, grounding, and he murmurs in your ear. "You did so good, sweetheart. Always so good for me." You whine when his hand brushes against one of the hickeys on your thigh. "Shit, sorry." He pulls back, littering your face with more apologies. "Was it too much?"

You're quick to shake your head. "No." A small smile forms on your face. "But I might not be able to walk anytime soon."

He grins back at you. "Told ya."

You nuzzle your face against his chest, breathing him in. He smells like smoke- he always does, but that smell has become comforting to you. The two of you stay like that for a while before he begins to pull away.

"C'mere. Let's get you cleaned up." He grunts, standing up and taking you with him. He sets you down in the bathtub, turning on the water.

"I'm gonna get some water and food for you. What do you want?" The mention of dinner has your stomach growling- but the thought of him leaving upsets you. Not now, not yet. You reach out a hand, grabbing him by the wrist. He looks down at you, quirking an eyebrow. “You want me to stay?"

You can only nod, and he kneels down beside the bathtub. “Alright. I’ll stay.” Your grip on his wrist loosens, and he brings your hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss against your skin. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

True to his word, he stayed by your side for the rest of the night. Bathing you, drying you, carrying you to the bedroom to get dressed, setting you down outside the bathtub while he showered, then back to the bedroom to put his own clothes on. He ordered dinner, even keeping you with him when he grabbed it from the porch. He didn’t leave you alone, not once, and before you knew it you were drifting off to sleep, still nestled in his arms.

tags: @flowersforbucky @thinkinonsense @gewrgia-black @wlwloverwrites @logansbaby @buckybarneswife125 @sweetverine @dilfverines @wchswift @namikyento @lokirogersgirl @nymphoniah @logansdoe @robo-writing @themareverine @atleastpleasetelephone @r0ttedcherubim @logaenhowlett @th3mrskory @pidgeypidge-pidge

(this is the taglist for my logan howlett one-shots. if anyone would like to be added to or removed from this taglist, please let me know!)

[the-flaneur]

scarlet fury (cl16)

pairing: dark!charles leclerc x sainz!reader

summary: following his explosive outburst on the radio, what better way to relieve his anger than by getting back at his teammate?

warnings: 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut ft. rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), hate sex, a little bit dubcon (but reader is still consenting), possessive!charles, charles using you (literally and figuratively) to fuck over carlos

wc: 2178

[masterlist] [requests]

as you nervously awaited the end of the race in the garage, you knew this weekend had not been good for your brother, or his teammate. practice had been all over the place, with the mercedes surprisingly looking as the fastest car so far this weekend (although lewis had told you in confidence that he was very concerned about the race pace and the tires) and the greatest attention was on max’s potential championship winning race.

however, as the race actually progressed through the garage screens, your heart sank.

your ferrari boys had somehow dropped behind max, and both mercedes, and when carlos’ mechanics refused to let him pit, you rolled your eyes at the camera which you knew had been panned towards you that very second. it was frankly frustrating at the very least, you thought, glaring daggers at the back of ricky’s head.

but when your brother’s pit lane shenanigans were being called out by sky sports, you sighed internally, watching him cut across the line before darting back out. and it only got worse when charles had gotten on the radio to berate your brother about fighting him on track. the battle for constructors was vital right now, and your brother was not making it any easier for them to stay in contention. eventually, as the ferraris rounded the last corner together, you let out a small grimace at the camera. 

charles’ furious outburst had left a trail of expletives echoing through the cockpit, he gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white. his face was twisted in anger, eyes narrowed to slits as he focused intently on the rear of carlos' ferrari ahead. the tension radiated off him like heat, every muscle coiled and ready to spring into action. meanwhile, carlos apparently to him, seemed oblivious to the commotion, his concentration solely on maintaining his position and crossing the finish line in third, securing a mercedes 1-2 and a ferrari for the podium.

as brian tried to calm charles down over the radio, his anger simmered dangerously beneath the surface, barely contained. when charles finally spoke, his voice was low and aggressive, each word dripping with venom. "tell carlos if he wants to play dirty, i'll show him what his face on the track looks like," charles growled, his gaze never leaving the road ahead. "i'll fuck him over." the threat hung heavy in the air, unspoken but unmistakable. charles' hands tightened further on the wheel, his knuckles cracking with the force. 

as soon charles slammed his car into parc ferme, he stormed out of the cockpit, his racing boots pounding the asphalt as he marched straight towards the garage area, pushing angrily passed ferrari personnel who were cheering and celebrating carlos. oh just how pissed off was he, you thought, his face was still flushed with anger. but when he glanced over towards you, there was an undeniable hunger burning in his eyes as they locked onto yours.

you were no stranger to charles’ passion, healthy or not. as carlos’ younger sister, you had attracted the attention of many young men and women, most of all being his very own teammate. although you had rebuffed charles’ advances at first, you were not immune to the monegasque's charm and had soon found yourself  sneaking behind carlos’ back to meet with him in hotels across the world.

without a word, he charged over to you silently, grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you into his driver’s room, locking the door shut behind you. in the dim light, charles pinned you against the table, his body pressed hard against yours as he claimed your mouth in a rough, demanding kiss. his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting you deeply as his hands roamed over your curves, grabbing and squeezing roughly.

now, consumed by fury and humiliation, charles was about to unleash his pent-up aggression upon you. his muscular frame loomed over yours as he stripped off his racing suit, revealing a chiseled torso glistening with sweat. he grabbed you from your thighs before seating you on the table, like a sacrifice ready for her god.

“charlie…” you whispered, nervously, watching him roughly push down his boxers, freeing his massive, throbbing erection. pre-cum drooled from the tip, glistening in the dim light. charles grabbed your ankles and pulled your legs apart, spreading you wide open for him.

"you think you're so smart, don't you?" charles hissed, his breath hot against your ear as he yanked your panties down your legs. "playing both sides, i’m fucking my teammate’s little sister... you're just a dirty little slut, aren't you?"

"you think you can handle this, princess?" he taunted, rubbing the swollen head against your slick entrance. "or are you just another pathetic little tease who can't take what she dishes out?"

with no warning, he thrust deep inside you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. a guttural moan escaped his lips as he savored the tight, scorching heat of your pussy gripping him like a vice. he began to pound into you mercilessly, each savage thrust jolting your body against the cold metal table.

"you think your precious brother deserved that podium?" charles growled, his voice low and menacing. without waiting for a response, he grabbed your thighs and yanked them apart, exposing your soaked pussy to the cool air. "i'm going to teach him a lesson he'll never forget."

charles roughly thrust his rigid cock deep inside your quivering cunt, not bothering with foreplay or gentleness. he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he began pounding into you with savage intensity, each brutal stroke punctuated by a grunt of exertion and rage. the table creaked ominously beneath you, its metal legs scraping against the floor with every powerful impact. your back arched, pressing your breasts against the unforgiving surface as charles relentlessly fucked you, his thick shaft stretching your tight walls to their limits.

"d-do you like this, you little slut?" charles snarled, his breath hot against your ear. "did you think i would let your brother get away with this? ruining my chances in the wdc?" he reached down to roughly pinch and twist your nipples, sending jolts of pain through your body that only heightened your arousal.

"nnngh... no, please..." you managed to gasp out, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and desperate need. you knew you were at his mercy, completely powerless under his dominant grasp. charles continued to ruthlessly pound into your dripping wet pussy, his aggressive thrusts causing the table to shake violently. 

"no? then why are you so fucking wet, huh?" he sneered, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you in place for his relentless fucking. despite your protests, your body betrayed you, responding eagerly to the brutal pounding from charles. 

"shut up and take it," charles barked, his grip on your hips tightening as he increased his pace. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the small room, mingling with your muffled moans and whimpers. "this is what happens when people cross me."

“but i didn’t,” you whined as charles fingers sank deeper into your ass, gripping hard enough to leave bruises as he continued to rut into you mercilessly. his thick cock stretched your tight pussy to its limits, the forceful thrusts causing you to cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

"you're damn right you didn't!" he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "but you're going to pay for your brother's sins nonetheless." with each brutal stroke, he punctuated his words, driving home the lesson he intended to teach.

despite your feeble protests, your body responded shamefully to the treatment, your inner walls clenching around him as if begging for more. the lewd sounds of your sex filled the air, a symphony of grunts, slaps, and muffled moans that seemed to spur charles on.he stepped back, his massive erection bobbing angrily before him. with a cruel smirk, charles grasped your ankles and flipped you onto your stomach, your face pressed against the cold metal of the table. "so i get to use you however i want, since your precious brother screwed me over."

without further warning, charles drove his thick cock back into your dripping folds from behind, slamming into you with unbridled ferocity. his heavy balls slapped against your clit with each merciless thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your sensitive body. charles' relentless pounding sent waves of intense pleasure coursing through your battered body, each brutal thrust pushing you closer to the brink of ecstasy. despite the harsh treatment, your cunt clung greedily to his pistoning cock, desperate for more of the rough, punishing friction.

as charles continued to rail you from behind, his meaty hands slid up your sides to roughly palm your small tits, pinching and twisting your sensitive nipples until they throbbed in time with your racing heartbeat. "you love this, don't you, you filthy little cumslut?" he taunted, his hot breath washing over the back of your neck.

"ahhhn... oh god, yes! i-i love it!" you panted out, voice strained with a mix of pleasure and humiliation. each brutal thrust of charles' thick cock sent shockwaves of ecstasy through you quivering body. your hips bucked involuntarily, meeting his punishing strokes as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations. moan after moan spilled from your lips, a litany of wanton pleasure that only fueled charles' dominance.

"mmmph... harder, please! fuck me harder, charles!" you begged, pussy clenching greedily around him, milking his cock for every drop of seed as you teetered on the brink of a mind-shattering orgasm.

"that's it, scream for me," he growled, his voice a dark rumble in your ear, "let everyone hear you scream my name, you dirty little slut!" charles commanded, his voice low and menacing as he gripped your hips tighter. "i want carlos and the whole motorhome to know who's dominating your needy and pathetic cunt right now."

your cries of pleasure rang out, echoing off the garage walls as charles pounded into you relentlessly. "yes, yes, fuck! ahh, i'm yours, charles! only yours!" you wailed, the shameless declarations spilling from your lips as you lost yourself to the intense sensation of being thoroughly claimed.

as your body tensed and trembled, charles buried himself to the hilt one final time, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he unleashed a torrent of hot seed deep within your spasming depths. "take it all, you dirty whore,"

he spat the words out in a guttural snarl, his hips jerking erratically as he emptied his balls into your willing pussy. the sensation of charles' thick cum flooding your insides triggered a powerful climax, your pussy clenching rhythmically around his spurting cock as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over you.

as the aftershocks subsided, charles slowly pulled out, his softening member leaving a trail of sticky fluid dripping down your thighs. he stepped back, admiring his handiwork – your ravaged body, marked by the signs of his brutal possession.

"well, that should teach your brother a lesson," charles said with a satisfied smirk, tucking his spent cock back into his racing suit. "now get dressed and get out of here before i decide to punish you some more."

as the overwhelming sensations of charles’ battering against your swollen pussy finally caught up with you, your vision blurred and you felt yourself slipping into unconsciousness. the last thing you registered was charles' strong arms scooping you up and carrying you out of his cramped driver's room.

some time later, you found yourself lying on a plush bed in an darkened room, your head throbbing and your body aching in all the right places. groggily, you opened your eyes to see charles standing beside the bed, a smug expression on his face. 

"i brought you here because i thought your brother might appreciate the... gift," he said, holding out a piece of paper. it was a handwritten note, scrawled in bold letters: "for carlos sainz jr., signed charles leclerc. consider this a taste of what your sister can dish out. next time, keep your hands to yourself on track."

charles dropped the note on the bedside table with a smirk, clearly pleased with himself. "i figured he'd get the message loud and clear," he said, leaning against the dresser with a casual air. "maybe next time he'll think twice before trying to steal my glory again."

he glanced down at your disheveled form, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "you look like you could use a rest after our little encounter. just remember, what happens on track, stays on track... unless i decide to bring it back to the pits, of course."

with that parting jab, charles turned and sauntered out of the room, leaving you to ponder the arousing turn of events and the lingering ache between your thighs. the note seemed to burn a hole in the tabletop, a tangible reminder of the stormy passion that had erupted between two teammates in las vegas.

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[sci-twi]

I think the most tragic part of Eurylochus’ part in Epic is that his one act of true selfishness (or two acts) are what condemns him not only in the eyes of Odysseus but also most of the audience. Warning: spoilers for all sagas of Epic: The Musical below the cut, up through Thunder Saga.

He’s introduced in the musical in Full Speed Ahead by mentioning wanting to find food to feed the rest of the men of the crew. In the same song, he grows defensive immediately after suspecting a lurking threat, suggesting that they take an offensive approach. He just wants to find what they can (to eat) on the island and keep going so they can all return to their families.

In Polyphemus, his only line in the entire song is him giving credit to Odysseus and Polites for finding the cave and takes note that there are enough sheep to feed everyone.

I have no doubt that he’s fighting along with everyone else in Survive.

But he shows his concern for the others in Remember Them. He is the one who snaps Odysseus out of the brief dissociation he experiences following the slaughter of a handful of his men. He also asks Odysseus what they should do with their “fallen friends.” Of course, we know that if people weren’t buried correctly, they were doomed to an eternity of unrest.

He’s worried about the souls of those men that they lost and is (most likely) not happy about having leave them behind and neglecting such an important ritual.

When Polyphemus awakens after being stabbed in the eye and it becomes apparent that there are more cyclopses in the cave, Eurylochus gets even more concerned and antsy, even pleading with Odysseus for them to just run before things get worse and they lose even more men.

In Storm, Eurylochus’ lines are all about expressing concern for their fleet (although a little pessimistic) and their well-being.

Luck Runs Out is personally one of my favorites and one of the most obvious signs that almost everything Eurylochus does is for the sake of their crew. The entire song is about him looking out for everyone else including Odysseus. “You could be caught off guard and lose your life. Or piss off this guard and infuse us with strife.”

It’s also important to note that the chorus has Eurylochus and the crew singing in unison. Eurylochus expresses his doubts but not because he wants power or to just get under Odysseus’ skin, but because he genuinely cares about everyone on board and just wants to make sure they’re making the right decisions.

And honestly, as a second-in-command, he should get some say or consultation and perhaps this song is him starting to realize that he is not being heard.

“I just don’t want to see another life end. You’re like the brother I could never do without.”

“And suddenly you doubt that I could figure this out?”

This right here is where it becomes apparent to me how dedicated Eurylochus is to Odysseus and the crew. And I can only imagine how he feels after pouring his heart out to only be met Odysseus’ indignant response. Eurylochus wasn’t trying to challenge Odysseus’ authority, but his response is defensive regardless.

Eurylochus switches from referring to him as brother back to referring to him as Captain, maybe sensing that sort of division, maybe sensing that he overstepped in some way. But still, he reiterates his concerns once more before Odysseus pulls him aside.

When Odysseus tells him that he needs to always be devout and comply with whatever he says and tells him to do or else they’ll all die, Eurylochus ultimately agrees. The beginning of that reluctance shows.

He doesn’t really have many noticeable lines in Keep Your Friends Close, but I do want to give you some food for thought that my partner and I @cat-gwyn-gunn discussed. Do you think that Eurylochus would have opened the bag of winds if Odysseus entrusted him with it to guard and made it absolutely clear what is inside and what will happen if he does?

How would you feel if you were your captain’s supposed second-in-command who had led the fight with you and stood by your side for 12 years suddenly came back from a god with a mysterious bag and guards it while staying awake for 9 entire days? Does that not show a severe lack of trust in your crew and would that not make you suspicious? Do you think maybe Eurylochus was sort of egged on by the crew who also thought it was treasure to check?

It’s hard to really put yourself into their shoes because we know how things end and we know that the storm is actually trapped in the bag, but they don’t.

Then, Poseidon comes in Ruthlessness. And Eurylochus sees all those men die. They went from 600 men to just 43 men. While of course he feels guilty for his decision to open the bag, he’s also hearing confirmation that Odysseus is the reason that Poseidon is after them. He probably remembers begging his Captain to just run and escape, and instead Odysseus proceeds to dox himself and all of that leads to that moment.

But still… that guilt does do something. Because after opening the wind bag, we don’t really hear any sort of defiance from Eurylochus for a long time.

In Puppeteer, we get an even further look at this growing divide between the two brothers (in-law). Eurylochus wants so desperately to let Odysseus know what he did, his tone is remorseful, he’s practically pleading for Odysseus to acknowledge him and reassure him. He is incredibly shaken after what happened with Poseidon.

Only for Odysseus to completely wave him off and send him on a mission. Perhaps it’s because Odysseus needs some time to process what happened and strategize or maybe he thinks Eurylochus is going to talk about it and he’s not ready to hear any of it. Or maybe even he’s jumping to being defensive, thinking Eurylochus is defying him again.

Eurylochus, who promised Odysseus that he’d be devout and compliant, and whose one failure to do so attributed to the loss of hundreds of their men, agrees to do what Odysseus says with little fight. However, his fears and concerns are left unaddressed and unacknowledged and he has not received any sort of reassurance.

While he is recounting his (and the crew’s) encounter with Circe, it shows that he is cautious in his decision to not join their men inside with her. Which pays off, since he gets to run back and let Odysseus know what happened.

When Odysseus says that he has to save them and Eurylochus says that they don’t, it almost sounds dismissive, like those men deserved what happened and they’re no longer their problem. This is a cold take and there’s no defending his callousness with leaving the men behind- I won’t defend it.

However, I will point out that with the next line he points out that they’ve already lost so much and gained almost nothing and once more he suggests that they run if only to preserve what little crew they have left. And again shows concern for Odysseus (or at the very least concern for him as their Captain who can get them home) saying that he doesn’t need to play Circe’s game and asking him if he will leave if she proves too hard to kill.

Notice that he says Odysseus doesn’t have to play her game instead of outright telling him not to. He’s trying so hard to be compliant because he just saw what happens when he isn’t.

He might also be wanting to avoid being responsible for even more bloodshed and loss even if slightly.

Eurylochus doesn’t really have any more parts to play during the rest of the Circe saga and throughout the entirety of the Underworld saga. He’s essentially not only just doing what Odysseus tells him to do but he’s also holding onto all this awful guilt and shame for what he did. 

Underworld is almost entirely Odysseus’ point-of-view. We really just see into his world for this saga. He tells his men that no matter what they find, keep going, yet he falls victim to the voices he hears and the guilt that arises and eventually peaks. We have no idea really what anyone else is thinking. For all we know, Eurylochus is drowning in his own visions. He has all this time to think and reflect.

In Monster, Odysseus comes to the conclusion that he will become the monster, he will do whatever it takes to get home to Penelope and Telemachus. I don’t think it’s a stretch to believe that Eurylochus also comes to the conclusion that he will do whatever it takes to make sure that the crew is taken care of and preserved. This is the beginning of when that line that truly divides them starts to be drawn. 

Different Beast is when it starts to become clearer to the crew and Eurylochus that a change has occurred. They start the song by singing along with Odysseus, using “we” and “us”. Odysseus is driving them all to be monsters. His actions are being reflected on the crew as a whole as their Captain.

Odysseus tells the siren that his actions almost cost his life, no longer reflecting on the crew’s toll as a whole, and that he must see his wife. This is when the crew starts to sing that “he” is the monster. And they end by calling his name- confirming that they are now aware that the monster is Odysseus. Really the only times someone’s name is called is when they’re an opponent like Polyphemus or Poseidon. So foreshadowing!

Scylla is where things take a turn for the worse- it’s where that line is nearly fully drawn between Odysseus and Eurylochus. But it doesn’t start off that way. Scylla begins to sing that “deep down you hide a reason for shame.” Immediately after, Eurylochus admits to being the one to open the wind bag and he apologizes profusely and pleads to be forgiven. 

Odysseus doesn’t respond but Scylla does in a way. She continues to goad Odysseus into believing that his actions are merited. It’s what he must do to survive to see his wife and son again. He has always known this deep down- he said it in Just A Man - deep down he would trade the world to see his son and wife.

The next time Odysseus speaks, he tells Eurylochus to light up six torches. Now, I imagine that this is a moment of great relief for Eurylochus. Even after the awful betrayal, Odysseus still trusts him. Going back briefly to Circe when she says “maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road” maybe this (Odysseus showing trust in Eurylochus) was the act of kindness and Eurylochus picks men he trusts and likes to hold the torches as a way to pass on that kindness. 

Then, all hell breaks loose. 

He watches as all of these men are snatched up one by one by Scylla’s six heads. He comes to the realization that Odysseus knew that was going to happen, that he made him actively participate in the murder of six of their men. That he didn’t communicate anything about what he was about to put his crew through. 

Eurylochus knows what he must do. 

In Mutiny, He goes right out and demands Odysseus to tell him that he didn’t not know that would happen which is a far cry from “please don’t tell me you’re about to do what I think you’ll do.” It’s a direct challenge. He spits out the word “Captain” almost mockingly. He continues to prod at Odysseus, telling him to use his wits (when in Luck Runs Out, he said that people die on it). He brings up that every other time they faced someone Odysseus came up with a plan to save his men, but this one time he runs (when before it was Eurylochus who urged him to run with both Circe and Polyphemus). 

He has pretty much lost trust in Odysseus, but still is trying to give him the opportunity to say something, to explain. However, when Odysseus says he can’t Eurylochus says he’s forced his hand. He doesn’t really want to fight Odysseus, let alone kill him. 

Once again, Eurylochus is the voice of the crew. They know now that Odysseus is willing to do absolutely anything to see Penelope again. They attack him. They voice their doubts in him and echo the sentiment that Eurylochus does which is that Odysseus must be stopped. 

When he awakens, and they’re on the island, Eurylochus is the first man he sees and Eurylochus no longer sounds angry. He uses “we” and “us” telling Odysseus that hunger is so heavy in the crew. Voicing their concerns again. Looking out for them again. 

He holds no malice for Odysseus. He’s resigned; he has lost complete hope in returning home. All he wants is to share one last meal with his brother and friend and the crew. 

He switches to just using “I” stating that he is suffering, he is hungry, he is tired. This is one of the first times (if not the first) where he lets it known what his own desires and complaints are. Every other time it’s been on behalf of the crew. He’s being selfish. He knows this, but he’s so overwhelmed and hopeless that he’s willing to make this impulsive decision. 

Odysseus continues to respond to Eurylochus’ pain with only thoughts of himself. He says that he needs to get home, he pleads with just him. But then the crew comes in and echoes Eurylochus’ sentiments. Odysseus addresses the crew this time, switching to “we” can get home. He knows that he’s fighting a losing battle, that the crew is essentially listening to Eurylochus now, that they don’t trust him. 

And with Eurylochus’ action he declares that he’s just a man. He’s selfish. He’s hungry. He’s tired. He’s suffering. He makes mistakes. He can’t always just push through. He’s flawed.

And when Eurylochus hears the panic in Odysseus’ voice (which panic is not something he has shown before: he’s dissociated/been in shock, been angry, and desolate but never panicked) he realizes what he’s done. He immediately reverts back to seeking Odysseus’ guidance as his Captain. He calls for him by his title.

He’s relinquishing control, but it’s too late at this point.

Thunder Bringer closes out their portrayals of betrayal and brother's final stand arc with Zeus rubbing it in Odysseus’ face that his crew’s hunger is his responsibility. That as their King and Captain, he failed them so badly that they resorted to damning themselves to alleviate that hunger. He’s the one who drove them to mutiny. 

Zeus tells him to choose and the crew already knows what he’s going to pick. They realize now that the monster was with them all along, that Odysseus has come full circle to being the true monster. After they sing their piece and Zeus fills Odysseus’ ears with Penelope’s song, there’s a deafening silence as the decision is being made. 

Eurylochus breaks that silence, calling out one more time. He calls for his Captain but in his voice he’s calling out to his friend. He’s scared. He knows they’re going to die. It’s almost like they’re children. He’s making that final reach for reassurance that he already knows he won’t receive. There is nothing but resignation in his voice. 

When Odysseus confirms his choice, saying that he has to see his wife again, all Eurylochus has to say is “but we’ll die.” Again, he’s scared. He was willing to die over the cow, but that was an impulsive decision. It is very different when imminent death is staring you right in the face and especially when it’s at the hand of someone who you thought you knew and cared for. 

I imagine that as the rest of the crew rushes forward to strike Odysseus down, Eurylochus stays behind and just looks him straight in the eye. He knew all along who Odysseus would choose and he has accepted it. 

It comes full circle. Eurylochus came in as the voice of the crew and he died as the voice of the crew.

[koojks]

note: their first study session!! wrote this late last night, so bare with me :')

wc: 2.5k

The library is too quiet. 

It’s the kind of silence that should be comforting, the kind that makes it easy to focus, but today, It’s just suffocating. The absence of background noise only makes the waiting worse. The ticking of the clock is loud in your ears, the blinking cursor on your laptop is mocking you, and the seat across from you remains empty. 

You decide to check your phone again, not because you don’t know the time. you do. but because each passing minute fuels your growing frustration. 

4:32pm. 

Jeon Jungkook is thirty-two minutes late. 

You exhale loudly. 

You should have suspected this. Jungkook is always late. Whenever your friends have parties, hang outs, or even go for food. He’s never on time. He moves through life with the kind of carelessness that only comes with knowing he can get away with it. But this is taking it to another level. 

You have tried to mentally prepare yourself for the inconvenience or being paired with him. 

Still. That doesn't mean it pisses you off any less. 

You scroll through your texts, to once again confirm that you are not the problem here. 

You: main campus at 4, right? 

Jungkook: yep. 

That’s it. no room for misunderstanding, really. 

It’s apparent to you that this is just Jungkook deciding, once again, that your time means nothing to him. 

The grasp you have on your phone tightens as you begin to type out a text. irritation practically bleeding into the screen. 

You: Where are you. 

You: ??? 

You: Jungkook. 

The read receipt appears comically fast. and yet, you’re still left with no response. 

You try your hardest to resist the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall. You should have known better. Of course, Jungkook would be late. Of course, Jungkook wouldn’t care. 

It’s almost stupid how much it bothers you. You do not care about him, not even a little. But it's the sheer audacity. The way he acts like showing up is a favor, like doing the bare minimum is simply optional. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, your phone buzzes. 

Jungkook: relax. 

Relax? 

You are going to kill him. 

As soon as you’re about to begin cursing him out over messages, the chair opposite from you scrapes loudly across the floor. shattering the stillness of the library. 

You don’t even need to look up to know who it is. 

He’s here. 

No apology. Doesn’t even acknowledge his lateness. rather, he drops himself into the chair with the same level of urgency as someone settling in for a midday nap. He slouches slightly, dark hair almost long enough to cover his eyes, bag still hanging lazily off one shoulder, and his hoodie sleeves are pulled up to his forearms. 

Most importantly, he’s holding an iced coffee in his hand. 

Your eye twitches. 

So he had time to stop for a coffee? are you fucking joking? 

You fold your arms over your chest. “Did you get lost?” 

Jungkook finally lifts his gaze, looking at you with an unreadable expression. “No.” 

Your fingers absentmindedly drum against the table. “Right. So you decided to show up almost forty minutes late for no reason?” 

He takes a slow sip of his drink, like he’s actually considering your question. “Pretty much.” 

You grip the edge of the table so tightly your knuckles almost turn white. 

Jungkook must see something dangerous in your expression, because his lips twitch. Amusement flickering across his face like he’s enjoying this. 

He’s been here for two minutes, and you can feel your patience hanging on by a thread. What did you do to deserve this. 

The air feels thick. heavy with silence. You sit across from Jungkook, the weight of his indifference hindering you slightly. Your laptop is open, the screen showing nothing but an empty document, that definitely should have some progress by now. But it doesn’t, because the one person that you should be collaborating with is sitting right in front of you, doing absolutely nothing. 

Jungkook’s expression suggests that he’d rather be anywhere else than here right now. And you can only assume your face says the exact same. 

You inhale deeply. pressing down the irritation curling in your chest, as you begin to talk. 

“Okay” You click onto the shared document scrolling through the assignment details. “We need to split up the work.” 

Jungkook nods, paying more attention to his drink than you. Staring intently at the ice melting in his cup. Poking at it with his straw. 

You glance up, He’s not even pretending to be interested. how insufferable. 

You wait. 

And wait. 

Nothing. 

“..And?” you finally ask. 

Jungkook looks at you, as if he just remembered where he is. “And what?” 

Your fingers tighten around the end of the laptop. “And what part do you want to do?” 

He shrugs. “You decide.” 

Your jaw clenches. “there’s no way someone can be this incompetent.” you think to yourself. 

“I don’t want to decide for you.” 

“Then don’t.” 

You push your chair back slightly, bracing yourself against the desk before you actually lose it. “Jungkook. This is a group project. meaning you have to participate. 

“I am participating.” 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. Your hand twitches on the mouse pad, resisting the urge to close the document all together. 

“You’re sitting there.” 

He lifts his cup up, shaking it, and his lips twitch into a half-smile. “Multitasking.” 

Your eyes divert to his laptop. still closed. 

He follows your gaze then tilts his head slightly, looking back at you. lazily amused. “You’re stressed out.” 

You scoff “Wonder why.” 

He exhales a short laugh before sitting up slightly. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do anything.” 

You narrow your eyes, “You’ve been here for what? fifteen minutes. and you’ve done literally nothing. your laptop isn’t even open.” 

Jungkook sips his drink again. “We have time.” 

This is it. This is when you swear something inside you snaps. Usually, you can handle slight laziness. but you have been here an hour. Your time is being wasted. 

“No, you know what. I’m not doing this.” 

You shove your chair back, closing your laptop with both hands. Staring at the nonchalant man aggressively. Trying your best to ground yourself before you start yelling at him in the middle of the library. 

Jungkook watches you, expression unreadable. he tilts his head slightly, still unsure of what the big deal is. 

“Doing what?” 

“This!” You gesture between the two of you. “You acting like working with me is some kind of massive inconvenience when I didn’t even ask to be your partner in the first place.” 

Jungkook sighs, exhaling slowly. as he sets his drink down and leans forward. his forearms resting on the table. 

“I told you from the start. I don’t like group work. I don’t like new people.” 

You feel something twist in your chest. “New?” You repeat, voice sharper now. “It’s been months Jungkook.” 

“Exactly.” he shrugs. As if he’s explained anything. “You’re still new.” 

Your jaw tightens. The frustration bubbles over. Not just from today but from every other passive-aggressive comment. Every refusal to acknowledge you, every little thing he does to make it clear he just doesn’t like you. 

“Is there some kind of initiation process I’m supposed to go through? Do I need to prove I’m fucking worthy of your presence or something?” 

He pretends to think for a second. “Might help.” 

Your fists clench. You should let this go. The logical part of your brain tells you to shut up, drop it. move on. but you’re too far gone. This man pisses you off. 

“What’s your problem with me?” 

Jungkook pauses. 

He doesn’t react immediately, doesn’t fire back with another casual insult or sarcastic remark. Instead, he just looks at you. 

And for the first time, you see some sort of emotion. Something that isn’t apathy. It’s brief. A flicker of hesitation. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. 

Jungkook leans back, exhaling slowly. 

“I don’t have a problem with you.” He mutters, his voice lower, quieter now. 

You scoff, forcing a laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.” 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. Just watches you. 

You hate that he’s not giving you anything. That he’s still holding back, keeping you at arm's length. Making you feel like an outsider. When you see him so often. Your friends are his friends. That should make you two close by default. but for some reason it hasn’t. it doesn’t. 

It pisses you off. 

But it also hurts. 

The silence between you is heavy. stubborn. 

You inhale deeply dragging a hand down your face. 

“I don’t care how you feel about me.” You say finally, voice tired now, rather than angry. “But I do care about my grades. So, if you’re gonna do nothing, just tell me now so I can figure this out for myself.” 

Jungkook looks at you for a moment. And for a brief second you almost recognize guilt in his eyes. You think. With a sigh, he finally replies. 

“Fine. Let's get to work.” 

You look at him, dumbfounded at first. before nodding briefly and diverting your attention to your laptop. 

The tension between you two sits heavy in the air, thick and unspoken as you force yourself to redirect your energy towards the project. 

Jungkook however, is useless at first, Scrolling through his phone. Laptop still unopened. Acting like the work is something that will magically complete itself. 

You sigh and look at him, talking quietly. 

“At least pretend to contribute” 

Jungkook exhales through his nose, tilting his head slightly. For a moment, he just stares at you, and you expect some sarcastic comeback. But you get nothing, instead, he sits up, opens his laptop, and actually focuses. 

You’re almost stunned into silence. 

Almost. 

You keep an eye on him as he scrolls through the project outline, fingers tapping against the keys that implies he’s actually working, putting in effort. You’re skeptical at first. Waiting for him to half-ass his way through this. 

But apparently that’s not the case. 

He leans back, arms crossed, staring at the screen. “We should start with the research sections first. The work will be easier if we actually have something to analyze.” 

You blink, caught off guard. “That’s...not a terrible idea.” 

“High praise.” 

You roll your eyes, finding yourself partially smiling at his comment. Straightening up, you delve back into your laptop screen and focus once again on the task at hand. For the first time, you’re actually making progress. 

The next forty minutes are quiet, peaceful. There’s no talking. Just the quiet clicking of keys, silent hums of the both you understanding the briefs, and the rhythmic back-and-forth of actual work being done. 

It’s a truce of sorts. Temporary. Fragile. But it exists. 

And that’s more than you were expecting. 

Neither of you thought to check the times on your phone as you were working. Not realizing how late it had really gotten until a soft voice cuts through the silence. 

“We’re closing in ten minutes.” 

You both glance up. Seeing a library assistant standing nearby, waiting for acknowledgement. 

Jungkook shuts his laptop with a soft click, stretching his arms over his head as if the last two hours hadn’t been spent in near-hostile silence “Guess that’s our cue.” 

You exhale, sitting back in your chair. It’s only now you notice the slight ache in your shoulders and the heaviness behind your eyes from staring at the screen for too long. 

For the first time all night, you both worked. It took a while, but you got there. 

Neither of you say anything as you start packing up, the only sounds between you being soft rustling of paper and the zipping of bags, The library is empty now, Students long gone, Leaving the two of you, and a weirdly comfortable atmosphere. 

You sling your bag over your shoulder, glancing at Jungkook as he takes his time, movements unhurried, lazy in the way he always is. He doesn’t seem in any rush to leave, despite being the one who could barely show up in the first place. 

The quiet between the both of you feels less sharp than before. Not quite easy but no longer suffocating. For a fleeting second, you almost consider saying something. But then he moves, stepping away from the table. And you swallow the thought before it forms. 

Neither of you speak as you head toward the exit, the glow of the fluorescent lights flickering slightly as you push through the doors. The cold hits you instantly as you walk outside. The rain isn’t light. It isn’t a soft drizzle you can walk through and ignore. 

It’s heavy, unrelenting. The kind of downpour that soaks through clothing in seconds. The sky is dark, streetlights casting an orange glow over the flooded pavement. the sound of raindrops hitting the ground louder than it should be. 

You hesitate, clutching your bag out of instinct and raising it above your head. Eyes flickering to Jungkook, for some unbeknownst reason. He’s already stepped forward, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, His clothing already darkening, and clinging to his skin due to the heavy rainfall. Yet he moves without hesitation, walking directly into the rain as if he doesn’t feel it at all.  

You assume he drove here, but you can’t see his car in sight, he must have parked it a few blocks away. You watch as he walks away from you without a second thought. As your feet seem to stay rooted to the ground, watching him. 

And then, for just a fraction of a second, he slows. 

It’s so subtle you almost miss it. 

His steps falter just barely enough for you to wonder if it was real. 

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t turn his head. 

But for that brief moment, his fingers twitch at his sides. like a thought had crossed his mind. Like he considered something. 

But whatever it was- he doesn’t act on it. He keeps walking. 

You don’t know why part of you expected anything different. 

Swallowing down the strange feeling in your chest, you adjust your bag and step out properly into the storm. The cold immediately bites against your skin. Your sweater instantly clings heavily to your body. 

Drenched in seconds, shoes splashing through the puddles on the street, as you begin walking down the sidewalk, you see Jungkook making his way to his car, several steps ahead. 

You don’t call out to him. He doesn’t look back. 

And for some reason, the distance between you two feels heavier than the rain itself. 

previous / next / masterlist

[daughter-of-sapph0]

I said it before in a previous rant, but I feel like this story needs repeating for no particular reason whatsoever.

my middle school was very small. there was only one class of 18 kids in the entire 6th grade. we had to deal with each other every single day. I only started this school in 6th grade, but some of these kids have known each other since pre-k. so when I joined, I was a stranger, an outcast, someone different. and having undiagnosed autism did not help at all.

one of my classmates was named Jacob. he was the only kid shorter than me. but he was an aggressive bully. every day, he'd grab me, slap me, pull my hair. he'd torment me physically, call me names, the whole shebang. typical bully stuff. there was never a reason for this, other than I was a new kid. I was a faggot. I was a downey. I was a retard. I was a sissy. I was a pussy. I was "the other". I think Jacob somehow knew I was trans and queer about five years before I did, and treated me as you'd expect.

every single day, I'd complain to my teachers and the principal. "Jacob is bullying me. he's hitting me, calling me names, harassing me, even after I tell him to leave me alone". and the responses I got did not help.

"just leave. walk away" gee, thanks. I'd love to. unfortunately I'm stuck in a classroom with him all day. unless you're gonna let me go home early, your advice is worthless.

"stop being a tattletale" and just let him continue to bully me? wow, thanks for being a supportive adult figure in my life...

and I'll never forget what my hardcore conservative catholic principal said to me. "if you don't want him to call you a faggot, then stop being a faggot".

in all of these situations of begging for help, not once did Jacob ever face consequences for his actions. even when I showed them the bruises and horrible notes he gave me. even when the harassment happened right in front of the teachers. the most he would ever receive is "hey, both of you, stop fighting!" even though it was always one sided and I never fought back.

until one day on the bus. he was in the seat behind me, poking my head, slapping me, trying to get my attention. I was already pissed that day, and Jacob was only making things worse. I told him to stop. repeatedly. to just leave me alone. but he didn't.

without thinking about it, I tried to swat away his hands. but I ended up brushing my hand against his face. he interpreted this as a slap. he immediately got off the bus at his stop and ran home crying.

that afternoon, my mom got a phone call saying that I was at risk of being expelled. apparently, Jacob had told his parents that I had beat him up, and his parents called the school.

in the end, because of my accidental unintentional "slap" that I had only done because I was angry and wanted to be left alone and stop being bullied, I was suspended for a week, forced to write a handwritten apology note to Jacob, and fell behind in my classes.

Jacob was never punished. he never faced consequences for his actions. he was always seen as the victim by adults. I was the aggressor since I was mad and complained about being bullied.

soon after this, I attempted suicide. I backed out, thankfully. but I can't stop thinking about how my life almost ended because no one cared about the harassment I faced.

being harassed, and having no one do anything about it, which causes you to get angry until you act a tiny bit irrational and upset, and suddenly you're punished much harder than your attackers ever were and ever will be.

I'm saying this for no reason at all. it totally doesn't apply to any real life situations happening right now on tumblr.

[naomi-nana]

bofurin and romance tropes . wind breaker

just as the title says, bofurin and romance tropes.

featuring : umemiya, sakura, kaji

cw : fluff, gn!reader, probably ooc

a/n : since there isn't many wind breaker fics right now, i'm gonna make one since im obsessed with the characters! if this goes well, maybe i'll make a second part:D

UMEMIYA HAJIME . friends to lovers !

the two of you first met in café pothos, when you were helping out kotoha since it was pretty busy that day. he was the one that noticed you first and came up to you with a huge smile on his face. he didn't say anything and only stared at you for a while, which makes you think that the leader of bofurin is a freak. but you talked to him anyway.

and that leads you to being friends with him somehow. and because of that, he won't stop bothering you whenever he got the chance to. "name, look! my plants are looking so beautiful under the moon today, hahaha!" he showed them off proudly at you. you only nod your head with a smile on your face. "that's great. but, why are you taking me to furin at night? surely this isn't because you want to have a bbq party with me."

"do you want to?!"

"just tell me what you want, ume."

he chuckled and looks over at you with sincere eyes that makes you feel weirded out. not because you're disgusted by him, but because he usually looks at you that way whenever he has something serious to say. "say, are you alone right now?" you tilt your head to the side at his question. "what do you mean? i'm with you right now."

"haha, sorry. i should've been more specific. i mean, are you single?"

SAKURA HARUKA . clueless and flustered !

"stop doing that!" sakura glares at you while his whole face glows bright red. suou and nirei only watches from the side as the interaction between you and him goes on. "doing what? i'm not doing anything!" you put the bandage on his injury. the three of them had just gotten back from a fight in the town. and apparently, sakura jumped way too early into the fight and got injured because of that. which is why you're trying to put bandages on his arms right now. keyword, trying.

"could you please stop moving?" you grab his wrist with your hand to make him stop running away from you, but it only makes it worse. he's now screaming like a crazy guy. "hey! get them away from me!" he stares at suou who only smiles at him.

"i-i think we should help him before he passed out from the amount of affection name is giving him." nirei whispers to suou, which earns a hum from him. "hmm, you're right. but this is way too amusing to watch. i say we wait a few more minutes."

KAJI REN . talkative and quiet !

kaji is known for being a person who's easily angry. well, he might look calm, but the second someone or something pisses him off, he's really scary. which is why people often run away from him. not the people in furin though, including you, who came from a different high school. of course people think you're weird, acting all smiley besides him while he's 'ignoring' you and listening to his music.

but, in reality, he actually hears whatever you're currently saying. "kaji, did you hear? apparently that new coffee shop is closing because they didn't sell well!" you crossed your arms together as you looked at kaji with a dissappointed face. "how sad, i really liked how their coffee taste!" kaji only nod at what you said, and didn't say anything back.

you noticed that he didn't say anything and decided to just shut your mouth, since you think that you're bothering him a little and you don't want him to get mad at you. but then, he suddenly stops walking. "what's wrong, kaji?" you noticed he stopped at the coffee shop you were talking about. he took off his headphone and opened his mouth to speak,

"do you..want to buy coffee?"

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[cobaltperun]

Darkest Part (3) - Remedy

Astrid Deetz x female Reader

Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.

Masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next part

Word count: 5.2k

-Dance with the enemy-

He was dead. Her grandfather, the only person that was even a slightly bit normal in her entire family, was gone, yet she showed almost no emotions other than something that could be described as ‘bummer’. Sure, she felt sorrow and pain, it would be disturbing if she didn’t, but it was all beneath the rage, beneath the lack of understanding and support. And all of that was beneath the feeling of betrayal she felt whenever she was reminded of her mother's ridiculous bullshit powers.

Once upon a time you called her a typical teen angry at the world, you ended it at that, but Astrid knew you left out a big part. A spoiled brat given everything on a silver platter, that's what she got from your words, that's how she interpreted them, and it pissed her off. You had the guts to act like you knew anything about her.

That wasn't who she was.

If she could say so herself, she wasn't spoiled, and she was well aware off all the luxuries and privileges she had. There was just so much anger within her, so much anger at the family that didn't understand her that didn't try to connect with her. The same family that refused to believe that no matter how she was raised, no matter how much money she had, no matter how easy her life was or how difficult it could have been, that she would have turned out the same way she was now. That she would have the love for nature, and the desire to protect the planet. That she would see beyond just herself and her generation. That everything her father taught and passed down to her was the core of who she was. That those ideals would drive her no matter how she grew up and the only person that understood that about her was long gone and the mother that apparently could see and talk to ghosts could not see him.

So, yes, Astrid really was angry, but not at the world as you said it. Just at her family.

Deep down perhaps once or twice she may have thought that she appeared to be too cold and distant on the outside. The divorce of her parents followed by the loss of her father, and the distance between her and her mother and all the therapy she was forced to go to made her closed off and defensive, and she simply couldn’t deny it. Why should she show what she felt when there was no one trying to understand her? What was the point of showing weakness when it could easily be exploited, like what happened with her mother when Rory met her. “Let's just get this over with,” she said, annoyed and angry that her mother manipulated the principle into making her leave the school when there was something important to her going on.

“Astrid!” her mother called after her she was already on her way to the car.

She could see Rory and someone else in the car; and while that annoyed her because she didn’t want to spend the time with her mother’s boyfriend, she guessed there were worse things that could happen to her. For example, being in the car with you. That would make this day even worse. “Save your breath,” she didn't have the patience to listen to her mother right now, instead she just opened the doors to get in the back seat with Delia and there you were.

Her absolute worst nightmare just turned into reality.

Someone kill her.

She should have just turned around right then and there. She should have said to hell with going to the funeral or she should have found another way to get there. Maybe by an airplane, or by bus, or anything really, as long as she didn't have to spend hours upon hours with you right next to her because of course Delia wasn't going to sit between you.

“Why is this pinnacle of human ignorance here?!” Astrid demanded angrily, looking both at her mother and grandmother with unmatched fury. How could they do this to her? They both knew how much she hated you!

“Good to see you too, Chihuahua,” and there it was, your infuriating voice addressing her with that ridiculous nickname that had no basis in reality that you refused to replace or put any effort in. You were so unimaginative you just picked the first dog that came to mind and decided she was just like that dog. And no, the irony that it was an angry tiny dog that she herself considered to be made up purely out of spite was not lost on her.

“Fucking Barnacle,” Astrid spat as her mother just shrugged and pointed at Delia. At least her mother looked like she felt a miniscule amount of guilt over this.

“You do know I need my assistant, don't you? Doing all of this without Charles is already a nightmare, I can't do it without my assistant as well! Oh, Charles why did you have to leave me?! Charles! Oh, Charles!” Delia was screaming once again, calling out her grandfather's name at the top of her lungs and for once Astrid figured even you were better than being even more embarrassed by her family, so, she got in the car, just to escape the judging and mocking looks of the other students.

From the corner of her eye she could see you opened your mouth before her mother and Delia could get back into the car. ‘Oh, no, what now?’ Astrid could tell you were trying to tell her something and worst of all she could see that you were struggling to get it out of your mouth. Considering that, chances were it wasn't an insult hurling her way because you definitely didn't have issues saying those to her. Luckily, from the looks of it, you've changed your mind and chose to remain silent.

Rory turned around with that infuriating grin on his face. “Astrid, it's so good to see you again!” Rory exclaimed with that fake smile of his trying to get her to accept him or whatever. He’s been trying to make her believe he was actually in love with her mother and not just using her some time, but she was she wasn't about to fall for those tricks. Instead, Astrid just glared at him, finding a bit of satisfaction in the way he just turned back around.

~X~

You really thought spending an entire drive from Astrid’s school to Winter River was the worst thing that could ever happen to you. You were wrong.

You were a hundred percent absolutely wrong.

Risking your life was a lot worse.

This was going to be the end of you, there was no way around it. Delia was going to be responsible for your untimely demise. Why? Because it was up to you to put the shroud over the house because why the fuck not?!

You stared at the large house at the top of the hill overlooking the entire Winter River. And you had to get on the roof of it. Great.

Just great.

You turned to Delia, sending her a pleading look and hoping against hope that she would see reason. “Are you sure there is no one else who can do this?” your fear of heights aside, this was ridiculously reckless. You had no experience climbing houses, walking on roofs or placing these shrouds, it would be nothing short of a miracle if you didn't fall to your death

“Can't believe I'm saying this, but for once I agree with her,” who could have guessed Astrid Deetz actually agreed with you. She probably just didn't want to see another human die. “I mean if she falls it will be really difficult to cover up.”

You should have known that was her reasoning, you really should have known Astrid’s worry had nothing to do with you but the inconveniences that would put them in. “Geez, thanks a lot Chihuahua,” you said mockingly and turned to Lydia, you were still naively hoping at least she would see reason in this, but the woman had just lost her father and was not exactly thinking of how reckless of an employer her step mother was.

“Oh, Y/N will be fine! She's my assistant she can handle it, just have Rory hold the ladder,” most of the other time you would be beaming from the praise, but today things were different. Delia just brushed your concerns off, and you were just becoming aware of how little care the family had collectively. Well, if it really was true that Lydia could see ghosts and talk to them maybe she just got desensitized to the entire life and death situation and Delia being who she was just took it easy. In her head she could solve it all. She knew the people, she had the money, the entire building the family had gifted the school Astrid was enrolled in was enough of proof of that.

“Great, off I go now. Hopefully not to die,” you sighed and picked up as much shroud as you believed you could reasonably carry to the roof and resigned yourself to whatever was going to happen. “I am not being paid enough for this bullshit,” no money was worth this, but here you were, unable to back out.

“Well, she does have a point,” Lydia finally spoke up and it wasn't regarding your life but your pay. Were you suddenly feeling really bitter? No, no, you could never. When the one most concerned for you was Astrid you really had to question the life choices that led you to this situation.

You glanced back at Delia, who was now in deep thought. “Yes, I suppose she can get all raise considering all the extra work she’s doing.”

Well at least he would be paid more for risking your fucking life!

“I can't watch this I'm going inside,” you did not care one bit that Astrid couldn't watch you doing this. You still figured that was for the best. You didn't want to give to her satisfaction of seeing you fall from however tall the roof was.

“If I die I'm haunting this entire family,” you promised under your breath and looked at the Rory who was holding the ladder for you. “I'd like to come back down just so you know, and in one piece,” why did you need to clarify that? Well, you were talking to Rory, so it didn’t hurt to be more specific.

“Trust me I don't want any part in this either, but it's for Charles, we must do it!” of course he would say that. It wasn't him risking his neck because, apparently, he was the only one strong enough to hold the ladder in place so he couldn't go up the ladder. It just had to be you. Granted, if you really had to choose, you would rather avoid holding the ladder up while someone else was climbing it.

‘I really should have gotten that life insurance,’ you thought bitterly as you began climbing the ladder.

~X~

Social media was, in fact, not enough of a distraction for Astrid at the moment. Not even texting other students about the conference was helping her keep her mind off what was happening outside. Especially when a shroud dropped from the roof near the window of the room she was in and she had to move to another room.

No. She wasn’t worried.

She was just curious about what was going on outside. It was too silent, and no one was screaming so nothing happened, she was sure of that. Absolutely nothing happened.

Astrid finally, after an hour of being glued to her phone, looked through the window and saw a black shroud covering it on the outside. She looked at it, wondering if you were done. No matter how much she hated you this was still Delia being reckless as fuck. There was no other way to put it. Why couldn't they just hire a company that worked on doing these kinds of things? Just because you were her assistant didn't mean you had to fall from the roof.

Not that Astrid would ever admit she was worried about you. She wasn't. Really. She just couldn't watch, so she went inside to wait it out. How was Delia even going to explain to your family if something happened to you? Like: ‘I'm sorry. I didn't hire the professionals, so I sent your daughter to the roof and now, well… Accept my condolences?’  

Astrid bit her lip, doing her best not to be conscious of how worried she really was. She should have stopped you, said to hell with this hatred between you and acted like proper human being.

And then there was a scream. A bone chilling, loud, echoing scream and Astrid ran out not really sure what she was going to see once she was outside. “What happened?!” she demanded as she rushed outside and looked at her mother expecting an explanation. Her heart sank as she saw Delia crying and you weren't there. “What? No, don’t-“ her legs felt like they would crumble under her weight. This wasn’t happening. She didn't hear any anything, she didn't hear a loud noise, she didn't hear a thud, but there was a chance it still happened and she just didn't hear it. “She- she didn’t-“ she was at the loss of her words, speechless and affected a lot more than she thought she would be.

“She didn’t what, Chihuahua?” her eyes widened when she heard that nickname, and that stupid voice.

Astrid spun around, anger coursing through her veins as she glared at you. “Nothing!” she yelled and rushed back inside completely aware of the extremely puzzled look on your face.

“I'm not that easy to get rid of! I am a Barnacle!” you yelled after her once you realized that you were the ‘she’ she was asking about.

You looked perfectly fine.

You really were a Barnacle.

How dare you make her worry?

Stupid.

Asshole.

“Fuck you,” she cursed under her breath.

~X~

The funeral went about as on brand as it could for the Deetz family. A choir singing, a fin shaped tombstone, an imaginative text engraved upon it and plenty of colorful personalities, most of them dressed in black attending the funeral. Whenever you had the chance to closely look at the family you always had the feeling of absurdity surrounding you, they never truly conformed to the general norms but nothing showed that as much as this funeral.

You stood by the side observing, just taking the scene in as people began mingling around talking to one another. You didn’t know these people and they didn’t know you, neither of you felt the need to strike up a conversation in circumstances such as these. As the priest approached Delia and Rory the feeling of grief was mixed in with something else, something you couldn't quite tap into. You couldn't quite call it absurd or nonchalant but there was something about the way everyone acted that gave you this strange feeling. The last time you went to the funeral people cried, but the Deetz family took the loss proudly, not shedding a tear and leaving that for a more private moment. As for the others, well, you understood why most of the people here didn't cry. These people knew Charles but weren't quite close to him.

You glanced to the side where Astrid was sitting alone, somber-looking, serious, almost engulfed by that large coat she was wearing as if shielding herself from everything she was feeling. For a moment you could see that mask she used to wear cracking, just a hint of pain etching itself upon her face before she, as if she could feel your eyes on her, put the mask back on. You chose not to intrude, instead mixing into the crowd not quite intending to strike up a conversation but also not intending to avoid it.

The only thing you actually wanted to do was just to give Astrid some space. You knew deep down that even if she did look a bit worried when she thought you fell off the roof and met your untimely demise that the hatred between the two of you was still that strong. And that meant that you were not the person she would ever open up to or be vulnerable in front of.

And that suited you perfectly well because you did not need another Deetz woman driving you insane right now and that doubled for Astrid because damn was she still annoying. Damn Chihuahua.

The sound of someone approaching you from behind made you turn around just as Delia was coming up to you. She opened her purse and began looking for something. “I just forgot, we have to pack everything. Y/N, can you be a dear and go buy some boxes?” she handed you 100 bucks before you could even answer, but you figured anything was better than staying here surrounded by people you didn't know and not really knowing what to do with yourself.

“Of course, I'll come back as soon as possible,” you told her, taking the money and resisting the urge to run to the city.

~X~

You weren't lying to yourself, or overthinking things. You really didn't belong here, you didn't know anyone, no one from your family came from here, you just happened to work for Delia and thus were obligated to come and help her with the funeral. Still, you couldn't deny the place had a certain charm to it, there was something peaceful and calm about it something you couldn't quite explain with words alone.

It felt like Winter River was somewhat stuck in the past, like it wasn't keeping up with the rest of the world while still being welcoming to strangers. The man at the shop was welcoming, kind and helpful as you explained what you needed the boxes for and directed you toward the part of the store where you would find everything you need. From that point you could handle everything yourself.

It was kind of funny how used you were to this particular part of helping Delia. You have gotten quite an experience with packing things between working for Delia and your work at the library, packing wasn't something you were unfamiliar with. You came back to the house coming from the back and doing your best to avoid the crowds that gather in front of it because for whatever unexplainable reason you simply didn't do well with the crowds. Especially if you had to just walk through them and you figured it wasn't the best look to just walk through them with bags of tapes and other supplies as well as a bunch of boxes neatly packed underneath your arm. What you definitely didn't expect was to see Astrid storming off from the front of the building, getting on a bicycle and furiously riding off.

“Chihuahua!” you called out to her, not because you were worried or you cared to know where she was going, but because she didn't look like she should be driving off by herself. In fact, you swore you could see a single tear falling from her eye which was probably a mistake because Astrid did not cry. Yeah, it was definitely just you seeing things. You've been seeing things you couldn't quite explain lately, so maybe this was one of them too.

She didn’t turn back, or even slow down, she just left without even reacting. Not even yelling at you, and that was unsettling.

You put the boxes at the side of the house and placed the bag on top of them, and then went to search for Delia only to turn the corner and see a… celebration? “What the hell just happened here?” you muttered to yourself. Why were people suddenly celebrating like someone just got engaged or announced they were pregnant or something as ridiculously out of touch with reality and current situation as that. This was supposed to be a funeral and now it didn’t feel one bit like one.

You approach Delia and you were sure she could see you were puzzled. How couldn't you be? When you left graveyard things were somber, people talked but it was quiet and reserved, you could feel the grief in the air and now it was like you stepped into a parallel dimension where everyone wore black to celebration. It was like you were suddenly in the Addams family universe, well, Astrid did kinda give off the Wednesday vibe.

That was a strange thought.

“Did I miss something?” you asked almost fearful of the answer because if you didn't step into a parallel universe then you could probably guess that this was Rory’s doing. Somehow. How he would manage to do that was beyond you but if anyone could do it, then it was him.

“Turns out we'll be organizing a wedding in two days,” wait, what? “Lydia just accepted Rory’s proposal,” Delia explained as if she couldn't believe it herself and your jaw dropped prompting her to just nod and shrug.

What the fuck? Lydia was… She was burying her own father!

You turned to look at Lydia still puzzled by her decision. Rory you could understand he was an inconsiderate asshole of a man that manipulated everyone and everything in his favor just so he could gain something, prone to exploiting vulnerable people- oh, that's what happens. “And let me guess, Chihuahua was here right when it happened,” maybe you weren't seeing things, maybe she really was crying.

Delia pointed toward the porch as subtly as she could. “Right there,” yeah, that explained everything.

For once you felt sorry for the girl.

You probably should just go back home because this was not a healthy realization to have. You actually felt sorry for Astrid, you must be going crazy. “I'll, uh, started packing things, you know just the small stuff that whoever wants to buy the house won’t notice or care about,” anything really, just so you didn’t have to come to terms with feeling empathy for Astrid Deetz.

“Thanks, I'll be meeting you later to take some photos so get the equipment ready, please,” Delia said ‘please’ the world really was ending, or she really was that affected by Lydia’s decision.

~X~

A few hours later, when all the crowd was gone, you finished setting up the equipment for taking photos for Delia. You one again caught yourself thinking you were in the most absurd situation you could possibly be in as Delia began explaining to you exactly what she wanted you to do.

“So, what I want is that primal scream filled with grief! The scream of pain captured at the exact moment where it reaches the pinnacle, I want it to be guttural, to be raw emotion, the pure anguish and uncontrollable. To create the image of a deep wound inflicted upon the very heart of the one screaming and the one observing the work of art. I want to capture that visceral feeling of remorse, to show it as beautiful and ugly at the same time!” she explained passionately and you could feel your heart racing.

How were you supposed to be behind the camera, responsible for capturing that? You would be lying if you said you didn't understand the thoughts behind the idea or that it didn't sound inspiring, but how were you supposed to capture that? You just got into this business as Delia's assistant months ago and now this was thrown upon you? This responsibility? Capturing something so specific?

At this point you actually would have taken climbing on the roof again instead of doing this because it just felt so daunting and above your skill level.

“Sure, I'll help you with that,” and instead of saying how you felt went and agreed like a dumbass.

Well Alex did have a habit of saying you were a hell of a people pleaser, as long as those people weren't Astrid that is.

“Great, let's start!” Delia was surprisingly excited about doing this, but you supposed the artist within her overpowered the grieving widow. She sat down in front of the camera and give you a moment to get into position. You stood behind the camera, checked the lighting once more, did the test photo to make sure everything was fine and it was because you learned how to do it damn well.

“OK. I'm ready whenever you are,” you gave her a thumbs up and she took several deep breaths, getting in touch with several feelings within her, letting that gried come out and show itself and she screamed. She screamed so loud and with so much pain and though you struggled, you captured the moment. Deep down you probably just realized that this was her way of releasing the grief that was consuming her. So, you pushed away all the doubts in your skills and all the other ways you were reconsidering your position as her assistant and just silently took part in the process of Delia handling her grief and emotions that came along with it.

That is until the rest of the Deetz family and Rory, well you guessed he now was a part of the family as well, came running due to hearing Delia screaming. You choose to keep busy by going through the photos and picking out those that looked the most like what Delia described to you earlier and let Delia explain the situation to her family. that is until Astrid Charles to address you.

“I thought Barnacle finally snapped and tried to murder someone,” she commented and you saw the smirk appearing on her face when you took the bait like the fool you were.

“Don’t worry, if I start murdering people, I’m starting with you, Deetz,” you grumbled, not in any way serious, but you were fairly annoyed by that comment.

“There are three of us here, you might want to be more specific?” Lydia asked completely out of blue and you resisted the urge to look at her and raise and eyebrow at the clear failed attempt to play ignorant of the way things were between you and Astrid.

“The chihuahua,” you still clarified.

“That fits two of them,” Delia did not just challenge you there.

Fine, you could play this game. “The pain in my ass,” you added, surely that would do it.

“Two again, try harder,” Lydia knew well enough Delia meant ‘chihuahua’ fit her as well as Astrid, so she was just getting back at Delia. And stating that Delia was, indeed, also a pain in your ass.

That was on you for not noticing your mistake. “The one who thinks Rory is annoying,”

“Still at two,” Lydia once more countered and you were running out of things that described Astrid.

“Mommy issues?” you tried, now getting a bit desperate as you watched the amusement on Delia and Lydia’s faces and the pure look of annoyance on Astrid’s. At least that was a good thing. Any day you made Astrid annoyed was a win in your book.

Delia glanced at Lydia and Astrid and nodded. “Hmm, definitely two.”

“The one that hates me,” you would do everything in your power to never say Astrid’s name.

“Hm, for your sake I’ll say that’s at one,” Delia took pity on you.

Wait a second… “What’s that supposed to mean?!” you demanded, certain that only Astrid hated you. Did Lydia hate you? Or Delia? But you worked for Delia and you barely talked with Lydia. Well, you did hate her daughter so… That made sense?

“Nothing!” Astrid screamed so loudly you nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Fucking Chihuahua,” you cursed under your breath and went to pack things from any other room, as long as Astrid wasn’t there. Or Rory, you really didn’t want to be in the same room as him either.

~X~

If there was one thing that kind of made Lydia nervous it was the realization that her daughter had grown up and that she should probably be getting ready for the inevitable moment where Astrid comes out to her. And not preparing in the: ‘What do I do?! My child is gay!’ way but rather in the: ‘What do I do?! My child is now an adult and is falling in love and getting into a relationship and she is going to start dating and might get her heart broken and might find the right person right away or might never find the right person!’ way. And that’s not even considering all the other things that could go right or wrong and she was already panicking and overthinking it and she really needed something to calm her down.

If Rory just didn’t throw her pills away.

“Something needs to happen to just to end this charade those two have going on,” and Delia was not helping with her comments because even as few times as Lydia saw you and Astrid interacting she could tell it wasn't really that black and white between you two and Astrid's reaction to you being in danger, which was still reckless on Delia's part, only strengthened that belief. What was she going to do?! You were a good kid; she couldn't deny that. You were hardworking, you weren't spoiled and from what she heard from Delia you actually shared some of Astrid’s core beliefs, but she was still a mother, and she was still worried about her precious daughter getting her heart broken.

“They are too stubborn at this point,” at least she could take some solace in that. It would probably happen at some point and you and Astrid would probably settle your differences and start seeing each other for what you really were and not just the initial impression you made it one another. But from the looks of it, it was still somewhat far off and so Lydia hoped she had at least some time to prepare. More than anything, she hoped that you would first be friends instead of jumping right into a relationship after apparently hating one another. She sighed and went to pick up a box Rory brought along. There was still so much to do, especially with the wedding coming and all the cleaning and packing would help her get her mind off of her daughter's love life.

Delia actually laughed. “You're right, unless something life threatening happens to either of them I don't think they are going to make any real progress anytime soon,” she was joking of course but just the idea of something like that happening to Astrid really didn't sit well with Lydia.

“Please don't joke like that,” Lydia pleaded, sighing again and looked up the stairs her daughter went. “I should probably go and check up on Astrid,” she decided, especially knowing what was in the attic and especially since she was seeing him again.

Taglist: @alexkolax @osnapitzmel1 @bee-keeping @nebthetautora @lololauser

@nwestra @rroyale-109 @gemz5 @social-pomegranate @mirage018

@the-thing-withfeathers @hello-mtf @leafanonsforest @jaxon-nathaniel-drake

Masterlist / First part / Previous Part / Next part

[simping-on-the-daily]

Claws, Katanas, Compassion and Ketamine

Summary: You were the link between Vanessa and Wade during their breakup. They get back together, creating the perfect triangle. And then Wolverine shows up too, because you totally live in a suite apartment that can fit everyone.

Notes: God I love poly, mutant!reader, gn!reader, I wrote this in one day and thirty minutes last night and I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be obvious

Warnings: Gets real suggestive near the end but it's a fade to black, typical Deadpool content, from swearing to sex, reader does drugs and is very unhinged Wade’s just worse, not betaread we die like Worstie’s X-Men

The three of you ‘broke up’ in your shitty but homey apartment. Vanessa knew that her death caused Wade to try and kill himself numerous times, and dying shook her up a bit. After being rejected by the Avengers, Wade spent too much time hating himself and wondering where he went wrong, unintentionally neglecting his relationship with both of you

You were the red rope, the link, the buckle on the belt, it seemed. Shit got messy, Wade assumed too fast, but Vanessa wanted to be with you and you still loved Wade, vice versa. Vanessa tried to work stuff out herself, moving out, you stayed at the apartment, and Wade went to live with Blind Al again. You video chatted and texted everyday, and did your darndest to be by both sides.

Vanessa called you one day. She'd gotten the therapy, she said. Wanted to get back with Wade, try again at the least. You encouraged her to try and ask at Wade's surprise party, an extra present to add to the love in the late mutant’s life. Vanessa blew you kisses through the computer, and you mimicked catching them and placing the kisses on your cheek.

Then Wade got kidnapped, and came back two days later, claiming to have saved your entire universe, with some extra company.

“You must think saving the world's sexy, huh, Vanny?” You joked to Vanessa, lightly elbowing her after she and Wade made the promise attempted to try again over his second birthday dinner.

“Shut up and kiss me.” Vanessa put a finger to your chin in jest, and you accepted, embracing her with a gentle kiss to the lips.

“Already getting on it without me?” Wade interrupted, a metaphorical eyebrow raised in light-hearted query, poking in from the room you were in. Your response was simply to blow a kiss, which Wade quickly grabbed and pressed his hand against his cheek, swooning like a teenage girl. Vanessa simply giggled, and dragged you both back to join the party.

You all moved into Blind Al's apartment, in truth because you wanted to take Blind Al's coke. Wade said you couldn't, however, because that was the one thing Feige said they couldn't do. “What a pussy.” You grumbled, throwing the stash back into the floor where it belonged. And then Mary Puppins pissed on your leg, because apparently the nicest Deadpool hadn't potty trained his dog for some reason. Dick.

Oh, and the motherfucking Wolverine was here for some reason.

“Disney's gonna make him keep at this until he's 90, so we gotta give the senior citizen a house otherwise we'll get canceled for elderly abuse.” Wade 'explained’ to you in a whisper, and you nodded intently like you understood. Logan gave a middle finger in response.

He existed, that was for sure. You found him napping in the cupboard once because apparently Logan thought he was too good for the floor. He minded his business, staying out of the way. You accidentally caught him showering with the sweet smelling pink soap Wade and Vanessa shared and good god, those man’s abs were carved by Michalangelo. Fucking beautiful.

You, Wade and Vanessa sat down one night, Logan out at the bar that was full of football obsessed lunatics. And at the same time, you all spoke.

“I need that werewolf cock in me.”

“My god you guys, we need to get Peanut into bed with us, have you seen him?”

“We shouldn’t let him fourth wheel us, ask if he wants to be included.”

Vanessa glared at you both. You shrugged, while Wade did his best to look innocent.

The timing could’ve been worse, with you offering the deal with a Logan who was nearly hungover. Wade on the sofa like ‘one of those French girls’, Vanessa wore a casual hoodie with those really short shorts, and you were snorting heroin. Vanessa explained everything, and you’re pretty sure you hallucinated cartoon birdies as you spoke. Turns out, Wade did the same thing too, once. 

Logan accepted anyway, so he knew what he was going to get himself into.

Eventually, you grew to accept that Logan was a weasel, not a werewolf (which is so much cooler), and that you liked seeing him smile. Made you feel good, especially when he smiled because you were running his hands through his hair.

Like some fucked up hivemind, Vanessa and Wade shared your feelings too. However, unlike last time, Logan was the one who ‘confessed’, when the dude straight up purred in contentment when you tried to sit him down at your shitty table and well, you didn’t need to do much to gather the context as to why.

You and Logan shared the ‘Good’s Cabinet’, containing your most precious drugs and Logan’s more costly drinks, both saved for the most special occasions. You offered to take him to different bars that weren’t full of football frat-bros, and both of you found a new enjoyment in clubbing.

You would wear your best jewelry and drip, while Logan would wear an oversized jacket over his ‘wife beater’ shirt, worn over his Wolverine suit. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.

“They asked for no pickles,” He hovered above you like your evil shadow clone, the worker at the front desk sweating on their head and probably under the collar.

“Haha, reference.” You jokingly poked Logan’s chest, before turning to the employee. “Don’t mind him. Never worked a day of retail in his life, doesn’t get the struggle.”

“Fuck you.” Logan added compulsory, though with the vitriol of a man whose moments of swearing have entirely lost their impact. You did get a new meal, no pickles included, so maybe the guard dog privileges are necessary.

Wade and you would often go out to the park on weekends, chilling on a bench as you gave your very persuasive remarks on all the cars Wade would sell on his job. He’d challenge you to get more ridiculous, and you'd do so with a wink and excessive references to sex.

“Get the boss to add truck nuts to all your autobots,” You suggested as you and Wade both got ice cream cones from the greatest truck of all time. “Would add some blitz to your bis, yaknow?”

“You wanna have a fivesome with our Honda Odyssey?”

“Give the objectums something good.” You shrugged, and Wade responded with a look to the audience, cosplaying as a bunch of trees in Discount Central Park.

Vanessa liked to drag you shopping, and you were content watching her search for the perfume bottles with the most ornate casing. God, she was so pretty, her hair put into that messy bun and casual dress.

“This bitch is ugly.” Vanessa said, holding up a silver bottle with a diamond bottletop. You heard a crunch, and tears quickly welled up in your eyes.

“Oh, so sorry sweetie, I wasn’t talking about you-” Vanessa held up her hands and shook them in a panic, putting the bottle back.

“It’s not that,” Your voice was barely a whisper. “I think I stepped on a ladybug.”

Vanessa looked down at the red flakes on the floor near your foot. “Sweetheart, that was an M&M.”

“Oh.” You stood there in silence for a few seconds, before turning back to Vanessa in the unnatural, freakish sort of way. “You getting anything from here?”

Vanessa smiled. “I think we should have an early lunch.” And you grinned too, as she rushed you over to the food court.

Your nights were chill nights, all four of you curled up on the bed, Mary Puppins curled beside Wade’s leg as he kept changing his position every few minutes. You would braid Vanessa’s hair as she scrolled through her phone, and Logan would lie down and accept head pats and bellyrubs with a content purr. Apparently weasels can do that.

Movie nights were great, too. Logan always got the best popcorn and you all had your designated seats. With a combination of heroin and ketamine you called ‘ketarin’, you snacked on your stash while you were all forced to share two bottles of Pepsi.

“Try it, babes,” You gestured your bucket of drugs towards Wade and Logan, the former sitting on the weasel’s lap as he tried to get comfy. “You’ll be able to smell sounds and taste colors. Stereotypical, I know, but life changing.”

Logan glared at you. “Get this fucker off me and I’ll consider it.”

“Wade, get off, I want Logan to taste my ketarin.”

The mercenary huffed in exaggeration, arms crossed. “No can do, sugar tits. Peanut here needs to learn his lesson.”

“What lesson?” You huffed. “Anyways, I forgive Logan, now get off I need him to try it.”

“He was a very bad boy today, and you know this, Y/N.” Logan rolled his eyes.

“Get off him, Wade.” Vanessa spoke in that stern voice, and even though it was not directed to you, your collar was getting hot already. “We’ll sort it out later tonight, mkay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Wade gave a mocking salute before getting off of Logan with a grumble.

“She’ll be making ya say that seriously later, you know?” You raised an eyebrow at the mercenary, who made a heart symbol with his hands as he winked.

You thrust your special bucket towards the huge, jacked man (hehe), his demands met. Logan sighed before digging his hands in, and shoved it down his mouth.

“I prefer corn starch.”

“You fucking take that back, you little slutty shitter-”

You would’ve beaten him to a pulp for disrespecting your recipe, but Vanessa gave a mock cough, getting you, him and Wade to look at her. “Legally Blonde or Die Hard?”

“It’s August, the fuck are we suggesting Die Hard for?” You huffed, arms crossed, snatching your ketarin back.

“Yeah, too early for festive cheer, sweetcheeks. And I can’t miss out on international girlboss Ms. Woods, who do you take me for?”

“Die Hard is barely a Christmas movie,” Logan scoffed, but didn’t oppose when Vanessa selected Legally Blonde with the remote.

You all relaxed, in your own fucked up way. You and Vanessa arm-wrestled over who got to have a sip of Pepsi (she won, you were trying to hold your bucket in the other hand). Wade’s commentary was louder then the movie, causing Logan to punch him, and Wade let out a murmur of ‘harder, mummy’. You snickered at Logan’s look of repulsion and confusion, looking over to Vanessa, who was most likely the mummy in question. Unfortunately for Logan, she was going onto the balcony to let Mary Puppins piss, so he looked at you.

“Something something we’ll deal with you later, something something what would Elle Woods think?”

Wade seemed to think Elle Woods thought badly of him, standing upright and flopped onto his seat. You put your hands through Logan’s hair, watching him relax from your movement, before yelping when Vanessa came back and accidentally sat down on your hand.

“Shit, so sorry.” Vanessa gave a quick kiss to your hand, and you dramatically swooned as you watched Elle Woods be a girlboss.

“Forgiven, honeybuns, for I could never be mad at such an exquisite princess, who’s hair was made from silk that Willy Wonka once commissioned-”

“Shove your Shakespeare-ass monologues up your ass and get a room.”

Blind Al spoke up, and all four of you turned to see her standing behind you, having just come home.

“This is our room, Al,” Wade countered. “We rented it fair and square while you played poker with all the other little old ladies like you.”

“You’re early.” Logan noted, holding onto a bottle as he turned back to the television.

“Wilson’s clients took a car on a joyride and crashed into the club. Drunk on that high, I reckon.”

“Were they driving with the truck nuts?”

“How the fuck would I know, stupid?”

“Ah.” You hung your head in exaggerated shame, before Al grabbed the wall and let it guide her towards her room.

“Your clients?” You asked Wade with a raised eyebrow after she was gone.

“Karen, Kenny and Twinkletoes.” He ‘answered’. “Now, back to our regular scheduled program of Elle Woo-......and the movie’s over.”

Logan snorted, and Wade gasped, turning to face him. “I’ll have you know that it was a sacrifice I made, I tell you! I gave it all up!”

“You’d give anything up for a cornchip,” Logan shot back, but Vanessa gave a loud clap that stopped the conversation. You placed your empty bucket in the sink halfheartedly before turning to your girlfriend.

“Back to bed. We’ve got some behavior to correct.” Vanessa commanded, heading to your shared room.

“Yes, mummy.” Wade answered in his most ‘uwu’ voice, leading you to groan and Logan to shove him lightly as he followed Vanessa.

“A bit too early on the petnames, buddy.”

Wade stuck his tongue at you, and you flipped the bird before following Logan, who was following Vanessa, and Wade then followed you like some fucked up, freakish line of baby ducks crossing the road.

And you would change none of it.

[deadpool15]

Unexpected Visitor P2.

Before I knew it, two men had just pushed me in the ground, hurting my stomach in the process causing me to scream out the first name that came to mind. “MANNY”.

Abruptly the phone call ended, I had never felt a sense of fear like this before. Not me for me though, my child. Right before Armando went to prison I wanted to tell him about the kid but too much was happening, a part of me wanting him to be involved in our life though the other part of me had to be logical and as much as it hurt, I had to let him go. Armando wasn’t the father but with the way our relationship was going he damm sure had no issue stepping up and showing me he could be.

We were huddled up and moved to another location before that fucking asshole received a call from a partner I’m guessing to move the hostages. Then we were planted in cars and boats apparently traveling to Cuba. “Are they gonna kill us?” I had completely forgotten Callie was here alongside us. I felt worse if anything, I couldn’t even reach out to hug her, I knew she needed comfort right now more than anything.

“No, sweetie we are going to be fine. Mike and Marcus are going to come for us. No one will hurt you ok?” Pushing myself closer to her to offer her a shoulder to lean on. Since, in this situation that’s all I could really do. “Look at you, mama bear giving her false hope. Already entering your mama phase and it hasn’t even started.” Looking at this asshole who had already pissed me off for yanking my locs. “It’s not false hope and last time I checked your boss gave you orders to not walk around speaking to me and my fucking family asshat. So, how about you do everyone a favor and check the perimeter, lord knows u could use the walk.”

He moves closer to push some of my hair back into place before caressing my cheekbones. I hurry and bit the shit outta his finger when he gets closer causing him to scream aloud and slap me. A gray haired man comes over to check the situation, head butting guy before sending him off to check the area leaving me. Christine sits there in tears worried for both me and Callie. Eventually, we hear noise from outside causing someone to yell out commands and we realize we are being moved. “Come on, ladies it’s your big day. Don’t let them outta your fucking sight, especially the feisty one.” Motioning towards me.

After a moment of waiting outside we notice something out of the ordinary and sadly so did our kidnappers causing one to grab my fucking hair again and push me back into this stupid gator park. Gunshots ringing straight through my ears causing pain. And then the man holding me falls, shot dead right in front of me. “O my fucking god, I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tears running down my face cloud my vision causing me to trip a couple of times trying to run away from the constant gunfire. Managing to untie the knot that had broken skin off my wrists, I immediately look for sight of Callie.

Crawling on the floor trying to find my 16-year old god daughter in the middle of an abandoned gator park is not something I thought I would be doing today. Finally, I look over and find Callie trying to run away from two men. Without a second thought, I run over towards here as fast as my body would let me. Grabbing ahold of her, causing her to shout not knowing the identity of who she believed was another attacker. “Callie, Callie stop it it’s me.” Holding onto the girl for dear life I check for any injuries. From the corner of my eye I see movement causing me to turn around while shoving Callie behind my back.

And right before I thought my life had came to an end. He appeared. Armando pushed us both behind him. Looking at me, while holding onto my arm not letting go. “Stay behind me. You gotta trust me.” Hearing those words hurt, made me realize how dangerous the situation was, maybe one of us wouldn’t make it. Fighting off a group of men while getting sliced up relentlessly, made me shriek in fear for the man I love. Grabbing Callie and pushing her towards the door as we try to run away a man pushed us back and Armando fight him off taking a knife to the shoulder. Leaving him on the ground in pain, I’m quick to grab him and try to pull him up. Before, I hear Callie scream.

Looking down all I saw was blood. Rushing down, but it wasn’t from Armando, it was me. My blood was pouring down. My vision started to become blurry and suddenly nothing was coherent. They were speaking but my brain couldn’t comprehend anything in that moment. Armando gathers his strength and looks at me, like a burst of adrenaline he shoots to quick while grabbing me with Callie’s help and moving towards the door. I soon feel us stop and look up and can make out a spec of what looks to be Armando’s face and his mouth is moving. “My baby, no..o the b-baby. Help.” And then everything fades. Trying to grab ahold of my stomach as a last resort to protect my son.

Armando

Sitting here facing off with Callie’s mom, while holding onto my girl. I watch my father and Callie plead for my life. “Go.. before I change my mind. Grabbing a hold of her I move with my father to find a boat. Before starting it up he looks at me, “Take this, head south. Don’t look back, and be good.” Smiling I look at him, thanking the world I got to know him. “That’s not your choice, detective.” Grabbing ahold of her and starting up the boat looking back at him, “take care of them.” With one last smile I nod and drive off. Seeing him for the last time.

2 weeks later…

“Manny, are you ready to watch the stars.” Hearing nothing my random little noises as my respond I smile. Grabbing ahold of my son I make my way to the patio to oversee the stars, “pretty right baby?” Hearing boots hitting the pavement I look up seeing Armando. “Ain’t got a thing on you, though baby.” Smiling while I watch him move closer to grab our son and play with him. Reminded how much I love him and our litter family. “What you thinking about, Girasol?” Pulling him closer for a kiss, staring into his eyes while running my nails through his hair. “Us, baby. Always about us.”

[piss-pumpkin]

Swords and Skeletons (Percy Jackson x reader)

Child of Hades Reader, ~3.7k words, set ambiguously after Nico turns emo, and before HoO ig

People said Camp Half Blood would be different. They called it a place where demigods could be free, safe, make friends, be normal for a change, and train to survive in the real world. A few of those were true, you found. There was training, arenas with swords, ranges with bows, and all that. But not once after arriving were you ever made to feel normal. Apparently, children of Hades were treated differently. 

From the moment the three headed dog of the underworld appeared above your head, the others looked at you less like a comrade, peer, or even friend, and more like an omen. You raise the dead one time at camp and people fall into hysterics. If they only knew the shit you were doing before camp. 

You went to the beach, all the canoes were full, all spoken for, no room for you. You grimaced as you walked away. Sure, that may as well happen. The summer had just started and you already claimed your status as an outsiders 

When you walked by the strawberry fields, the gardeners shot you odd looks, the bravest of which were as bold as to say you’d probably end up killing the plants. Like they didn’t know your dad was married to one of the plant and spring goddesses. Sure, why not?

Your first day claimed at Camp Half Blood was proving less than enjoyable. Just yesterday, with some Hermes kid giving you a tour, you were able to learn a few names, have a little fun. Now? Left alone to figure things out. 

A satyr showed you to your cabin, its dark and oppressive structure shrinking you down.  The satyr was quick to leave the moment your hand found the door handle. Typical. You rolled your eyes as you pushed it open.

It was much bigger than it needed to be, and remarkably dark. The few windows were covered with black curtains, and the overhead light shone dimly, as did the candles that were spread around. 

According the Chiron, you had one sibling, a little brother who occasionally came to camp. You curiously approached the one bunk that was in use. Your brother seemed the neat type, the bed was made, with clean white sheets, black blanket, and a single pillow. The dresser beside it was filled with black clothes, even a black version of the standard camp half blood shirt. This guy really committed to the bit. 

The only trace of personality was found in a few Polaroid photos sticking out from between the mattress and the bed frame. You couldn’t help pick one up to look at it. It was a very old black and white photo of a little boy and a girl. They looked like siblings. You put back the photo. 

You barely noticed the room was still dark. Sighing, you made your way to a window to shine a little sunlight in. 

You picked a top bunk on the other side of the room, and set your bag down. Completely moved in. You really needed more stuff. 

When dinner came, you quickly found out that you had to sit alone now. Great. No longer with acquaintances you could hold a pleasant conversation with from the Hermes cabin, who seemed to be getting along just fine without you. Your brow furrowed as you sat down. 

You picked at food. It was all good, the Camp Half Blood magic, and all, but your appetite was nowhere to be found. You halfway glared at the other tables, full of siblings, and even worse, the people who leaned back to laugh with friends at other tables. Maybe there was a good reason your brother didn’t come around often.

There was one guy though, that even in your soured mood, didn’t piss you off. Another person alone at their table. You watched him sceptically as as ate his… blue food, and texted with one hand. They said demigods couldn’t use phones? A bunch of people came by to talk to him as they were leaving the pavilion. Guess he’s popular. 

He glanced up, eyes landing on you, probably sending your gaze fixed on him. Fuck. You were totally staring. You blinked, and shifted your gaze to the table in front of you, and hoped he didn’t notice, or pay much mind. You hastily finished, discarding your plate and retreating to your cabin. 

Yikes. 

                                             …

As it turned out, you were not slick. The next day, when you were avoiding camp activities and the people who now awkwardly shuffled away from you when you tried to approach, you heard a knock on the door.

It was that guy. Of course it was. Who else would it be? Not your satyr, or any of the people from the Hermes cabin who were fine talking to you two days ago, not them. It was the guy who caught you staring at him. And you were here answering the door in your pyjamas. 

”Hey,” he said happily, waving. “I’m Percy.”

You hesitated. “Uh,” you started, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Hi Percy, I’m Y/n.”

He smiled widely, and gestured behind him. “Do you have anything going on right now? Cuz I’ve been doing some swinging in the arena, I could always show you some stuff if you’re still new to it.”

He seemed rather friendly. You were hesitant to buy it. “Uh, I got a little lesson the other day from… some Hermes kid,” you ambled, crossing your arms. 

He shrugged, “Suit yourself,” he said. “But feel free to stop by,” he started to turn away, but apparently had something left to say, and shit you one more smile. “I saw you had to sit alone yesterday,” he said. “I know it can be kinda hard to be a new camper and big three kid, especially Hades, so like…” he pursed his lips. “Don’t be a stranger, I guess.”

And then he was off, leaving you a little surprised. He was a big three kid too? You stood in the doorway watching him leave for a little longer than you meant too. You slowly stepped back inside. He didn’t seem put off by your staring, at least. But he noticed you were all alone with no friends. You couldn’t tell which outcome would be more embarrassing. 

You looked it a window, and saw a few kids walking down the path. They seemed close, laughing together and telling jokes you couldn’t hear. Ugh. Maybe you did need to talk to people. Rotting in your cabin, lamenting, wasn’t getting you anywhere fun. 

Groaning, you rooted around in your bag, and then the closet. There were spare black shirts. You snickered grabbing one off the hook and finally changing out of your pyjamas. 

The sun was entirely too bright. You squinted as you made your way down the steps, using your hand to cover the light. Where did he say? The sword… arena? You found the first directional sign on the way, and followed it to a fairly large area, it’s ground solid, packed,  and slightly dusty. Around it were mock colosseum stands, for watching the battles, you supposed. At the far side, was the guy, Percy, you now knew, swinging a sword viciously against a dummy. He seemed to be alone. A little odd considering his apparent popularity. 

Sighing, half regretting coming out, you approached. It took him a moment to notice, but he grinned at you when he did. “Oh my gods, you  actually came,” he said, surprised.

You did your best to put on a friendly smile, unsure why that was a difficult task. He’s probably the only one here who didn’t avoid you like the plague. “Uh, yeah,” you laughed nervously. “You said something about sword fighting?” 

He nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Yes,” he declared. “Let’s get you a weapon, I’ll give you the run down.”

You followed him towards a few weapons racks. “Well, I had a brief lesson the other day when I first arrived,” you said mindlessly, unsure why you kept resisting. You stood in front of the weapon rack. “Wait, is that a shotgun?”

Percy stifled a laugh, “yes, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said, going on to explain all the reasons why the various guns weren’t good tools. Something about celestial bronze, ammo, and other complaints. You nodded along idly, doing your best to listen. “So, I’d just go with one of the more… classic, weapons,” he finished. 

You eyed them. Sword, dagger, mace, mallet, sickle, scythe, entirely too many options, leaving you paralyzed.

“If you go with the sword, I can probably show you some cool tricks,” Percy chimed in. 

That was good enough for you. You took a bronze sword by the hilt, and raised it. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to just fight using my powers?”

”I mean, yeah,” he said, “if that’s something you can do.”

”Yeah,” You said. “I did that that on the day I was claimed.”

”On purpose?” He asked, brow raised. 

You suppressed a laugh, covering your mouth with the non sword hand. “Yeah?” You said, like it was obvious. “Is that something people do by accident?”

Percy started towards the centre of the arena, and you followed as he explained, “A lot of demigods aren’t great at controlling their powers at first.”

You stood in front of him, mirroring his sword stance awkwardly, “well, it wasn’t my first time… I guess I’ve always kind of known I was a Hades kid, even before I knew what that meant.”

Percy pocketed his… pen sword, and came closer to you, moving your arms, gently kicking your leg to signal you to move. He adjusted the way you held your sword, thumb tucked around the handle. “If you hold it like this, you’ll have a better grip, and with wider legs, your more stable,” he said, pulling away again, and assuming the same stance. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled with a sigh once he was gone. 

“If you can use your powers,” he said, wide grin. “Then don’t hold back, that’s what they’re for.”

“Uh, okay,” you stuttered, gripping the sword with white knuckles. “You’re not worried?”

He chuckled, “I mean, a little bit, but no more then I am when I fight Annabeth.” You nodded, and he smiled, and you pursed your lips, because it was a little charming. “Okay,” he started. “How much did they teach you before?”

”Little bit? Stances, I think. And… I know how to swing it,” you said dumbly, now realizing you were probably matched against a pro.

He didn’t judge though, instead moving beside you, and mimicked you exactly. He stepped forward with his front foot, and urged you to do the same. You followed his movement, doing your best to copy him, following his hops, slides, jabs, and slices.

A few half bloods walked by the path as you practised, a few waved at Percy, a couple of them even smiling at you. Proximity to somebody likeable, you supposed. A couple girls and one boy glared at you though, stopping to stare with crossed arms when Percy got close, or laughed at something you said. He didn’t seem to notice, luckily. 

“Okay,” Percy said after a while. “You’ve got the moves now, all the basics.”

”I got the basics,” you echoed, nodding along. You were already a little sweaty, the sun beating overhead and your black shirt wasn’t helping. 

“So do you want to try light sparring?” He asked. 

“Sure,” you asserted. Readying your blade much more confidently than you did before. “Yes,” you nodded again, mentally preparing.

He grinned, “Alright, don’t go easy on me.”

And you didn’t. But you could tell he was going easy on you. You slashed, he blocked, you stabbed, he dodged, you lunged, he parried. Shit, this guy was pretty good. 

You thought back to what he said about powers. Time to get a little fun with it. What did you have under control? Really just summoning the dead, the rest you’d only done by accident, like Percy asked before. 

Percy took advantage of your thinking to quickly slide forward and swing at your side, a blow you were barely able to block, your own blade wobbling as you barely redirected the attack. 

You pivoted back, and jabbed your sword into the ground, opening a vein to the underworld… or something. You weren’t exactly sure how it all worked. 

You had to duck and roll as Percy slashed forward while your sword was down. It appeared he was working your training wheels off. 

A few skeletons popped their heads out of the hole and grumbled, “Got anything good?” 

Fuck. Last time you had food to offer them. “Not now,” you said, dashing to your feet away from Percy and pulling your sword from the packed dirt. “But after this I can get you anything you want!”

Percy laughed, possibly at your desperation, and started to lunge again as the skeletons deliberated and discussed whether they’d help you. 

“Oh my gods!” You shouted, blocking a strike and trying to throw one of your own. Percy seemed to dodge it with all the ease in the world. “Get your pussy asses out here and help me, you useless fucks, there’s good shit in it for you!”

They grumbled, but climbed out of the vein. Five skeletons, you counted as you hopped out of the way of Percy’s sword. “Okay!” You yelled. They were just standing there like assholes. “Fight him!”

The skeletons complied, but not before the apparent ring leader made a snide comment about your tone, claiming you had anger issues.

But the skeletons did fight for you, circling Percy and readying their firsts. They didn’t have weapons, and before you could yell at them to go to the rack, they were already attacking, flailing at Percy wildly. 

You were allotted a moment to catch your breath as Percy dealt with it. Even without weapons, they were doing an alright job, but Percy was quick to react and form a new strategy. He ducked out of their circle and beheaded one of them. The skeleton groaned out a complaint as the skull rolled towards you. 

You pursed your lips. Percy used every opportunity you gave him to strike, even if it was cheap. Your turn. You crept behind him as he dealt with your small army, and raised your sword.

But fuck, was Percy reactive. He turned on a dime and swept your leg, sending you tumbling to the ground, knocking the wind out of you with an oomf. Groaning, you rolled over on your side and wheezed out what was left of your breath, and did your best to suck in another.

”Oh, shit, Y/n, are you alright?” He asked quickly, kneeling down beside you and discarding his weapon. 

Before you could nod, the skeletons whacked him out of the way. Oh right. Percy was sent tumbling to the ground, completely unready for the attack.

He scrambled to grab his sword again, but with a little strength, you waved off your undead defenders. “It’s cool guys,” you wheezed, still in the ground.

They looked at each other dumbly. “Can we have our food now?”

You glared and coughed. “Not now, go back in the hole, I’ll get you later,” you spat.

They had a few complaints, but eventually crawled back in the hole, as requested. And Percy was right back at your side, sword gone, water bottle in hand and offering it to you. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, offering you a hand. You took it, and he pulled you up to a sit. “I got a little carried away,” he admitted, handing you the bottle.

He looked at you with concern in his eyes, and you coughed once more. Hopefully the last time. “I’m good,” you managed, shooting him a smile. Or at least trying to.

”Do you think you need to go to the infirmary?” He asked.

You shook your head. Your breath was already coming back, and other than that all you had were a few bruises. “It’s fine, really,” you said. 

He looked like he doubted you, but he said nothing, instead pressing his lips together, and slumping down to fully sit beside you. “I started to forget this was your first time fighting.”

You laughed, and it only hurt a little bit, “That means I must be pretty good, right?” You screwed open the cap of your water bottle, and took a drink. One gulp and you were suddenly aware of the dryness in your throat, and had to down half of it to quench yourself.

Percy smiled, a water bottle of his own in his hand. “Hey, you’re not bad for a newbie,” he laughed. “Sorry again. I can let you beat me to make up for it, if you want.”

You choked out a laugh, “You won’t have to let me next time, alright?”

He laughed. ”I’ll hold you to that,” he smiled, taking a swig of his water and wiping away sweat. “You really did hold your own.”

You nodded, unable to form words for a moment. You gasped for breath after choking a gulp of water. “Thank,” you heaved. “For helping. Couldn’t have survived more then a minute without you.”

He smiled softly, “it’s no problem.”

”You’re the only one to even try.” The bitterness from earlier was creeping back. Percy was a friend, now, you were certain. The only one. 

He pursed his lips, and looked at the ground. “Yeah…” he started. He looked like he had more to say, but seemed to trail off. 

“I appreciate the effort,” you said, lightly kicking the hilt of your sword. 

He nodded lamely, “It’s no problem, really.” He sighed, and looked around at the empty arena, and the trees and fields surrounding it. “I have some friends that’ll get to camp soon for summer, they’re school and… stuff… ends a week after mine,” he said, looking straight ahead. “They’re cool, you’ll get along. Not everyone is scared of a Hades kid.”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “Uh, that’s good to hear,” you managed. “I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed by… everyone.”

He looked over at you, and you fought the urge to look away, like he caught you staring again. “They’ll come around when they realize you’re cool,” he assured. Then you had to look away, because your lips were being tugged up in an embarrassingly large smile. 

“I hope so,” you said timidly, smiling at your shoes.

Percy laughed, “People were weird around me, too, when I first came to camp,” he admitted, fidgeting with his pen. He twisted and spun it through his fingers, only occasionally dropping it. “Clarisse wanted to kill me, Annabeth was stalking me, a bunch of people were kinda scared of me? And I always had to sit alone at dinner.” He said, faint smile on his lips, like reminiscing. “It was a lot, I get what you’re going though… kind of.”

You nodded along with his story. “And… you managed to make friends with them anyway?” 

Percy laughed, “Well with Clarisse I’d say it’s still up in the air, but I guess we’re more friends then we are enemies nowadays.”

You smiled, staring at your shoes. “Well, that’s good,” you smiled softly. 

“The same thing will happen to you, done worry,” he said, lightly punching your shoulder. You snickered at his touch, punching him right back. 

“If you say so,” you giggled. Your black shirt was damp with sweat, and stuck to your back. “I’ll try my best.”

He shook his head, “you won’t have to, they’ll like you as is.”

You heart fluttered a moment. You were really starting to get why people glared at you earlier, for spending so much time alone with this guy.  You smiled, doing your best to not feel awkward. “Thanks, Percy.”

He smiled, and stood up, dusting himself off and offering you a hand. Once again, you took it, and this time noticed his callouses, probably from years of this exact type of training. He had a strong grip. “Let’s say we’re done sword practice for today, okay?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, picking up your blade and bringing it back where you found it.

You walked together to the dining pavilion. You had actually worked up an appetite today. The place you felt so alone last night, you now approached with a friend, and the promise of a friend group. And you got a few more sceptical looks from other campers, but that all melted away when Percy would wave or snap a finger gun at them. 

And you realized your previous judgement was wrong. Camp Half Blood might not be so bad, and maybe you could feel okay. Despite the skeletons, this might have been the most normal day in a while. Maybe Camp Half Blood would be different. Not because of the place, the god overseeing it, or any of that. But because Percy was different. Apparently his friends to. 

You broke off from him to find your table and get a plate, and this time, didn’t feel too bad about staring at him. You realized that table was the Poseidon table. Definitely one of the big three gods. He caught you staring again, and this time he waved, and you glanced around. 

You got up, plate in hand and walked over. “Do we like, half to sit at our table, or…?” you asked, tilting your head side to side. You couldn’t help look at his food, all of which was blue.

He looked around, eyes wide, “Well it’s against the rules to sit at another one…” he said, looking at the other tables, many full. “But, like,” he said, “it’s not a rule I haven’t broken before.”

You smiled, sitting across from him, “good enough for me,” you shrugged. You got a few weird looks. Just a couple. But dinner was always better with a friend. This summer was looking to be a good one.  

I actually got this one done in like a single day,,, that’s not usual for me. *mwah*

[veilsofroses]

can i please ask a NSFW scenario of fem!reader and Shuhei in a mission together and it starts to rain, so they hide in a cave and try to stay warm, which leads to removing their clothes and more 🙏

i hope this is good have a nice day!

Shuhei Hisagi x f!reader

warnings: MINORS DNI 18+, NSFW, smut, language, teasing, nipple play, edging, penetration, no protection, creampie, pathetic hisagi author’s note: hisagi fan club!!!!! this was so fun to write and honestly a little self indulgent. love our emo king word count: 2.1k

─･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ. ─

“It’s no use.” The rain grew heavier and louder by the second. You cover your eyes with your arm, but the constant rain makes everything harder to see. You grunt in frustration. 

“We have to find cover. Low visibility could cost us so it’d be better to wait it out,” Hisagi looks up at the sky, the clouds continuing to roll in with no sign of stopping. 

You growl, you want to argue but you know he’s right. You couldn’t afford to have your senses dwindled by the heavy rainfall otherwise you could blow your cover. 

Rain water dripping from the tree leaves above quickly begins to soak your body, your hair and clothes falling flat and heavy. Shit. 

“Y/n,” Hisagi caught your attention and pointed towards a mound of rocks at the bottom of the nearby mountain in the distance. You move and he follows closely behind. The hard rainfall is turning the ground into mud rapidly and by the time you reach the rocks, you were nearly slipping every three steps. 

“Over here!” Hisagi yelled over the rain, the pile of rocks forming an opening. Shelter. You move to take a step but your boot slides in the mud, your backing making aim for the ground. Hisagi moves, gripping your arm and catching you against his chest. 

“Be careful; I got you,” he says a little too close to your ear. You straighten up, pushing off him. “I-I know,” you stutter, embarrassed. His face is serious, but he looks away when he reaches out his hand. “Come on, we gotta hurry before the rain gets worse.” 

You hesitate, making him look at you again. He tilts his head in a 'c’mon, don’t be stubborn' kind of way and you reluctantly take his hand, secretly grateful for the stability as you both hurry for the cave. 

You both practically throw yourselves inside once you reach it, breathing heavily, dragging in mud and water. You start to pace once you catch your breath, “Fuck! This is just great.” 

“I know,” Hisagi says quietly, walking deeper into the cave, towards the wall, and leaning up against it.

Cold, wet hair sticks to your face, only serving to further annoy you. You kick off your muddy boots. A breeze starts to drift through the cave entrance making you shiver in your wet clothes. 

Hisagi looks outside, eyebrows furrowed, “Looks like we’re gonna be here a while.” 

You don’t reply, going to the opposite wall and sliding down to sit. You hug yourself, trying to hide your shiver. 

Hisagi looks over at you, “Are you okay?” His concerned tone pisses you off, “I’m fine.” He runs his hand through his hair at your dismissive tone, trying not to show his frustration. 

Despite it, after a moment, he pushes off the wall and walks towards you, sitting down beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“I said I’m-“ you start to argue, your face heating against your will. “You’re shivering. Just let me help you,” he looks away from you and you catch what looks to be a slight tint on his cheeks. You bite your tongue and comply. 

However, it soon becomes apparent his added warmth wasn’t enough. Your teeth audibly chatter, your wet clothes refusing to dry. Even Hisagi had started to shiver. The sun was going down, it was getting colder by the minute, and with the heavy rainfall, there was no possibility of finding wood dry enough to start a fire. 

Before you knew it, the both of you were wrapped in each other’s arms on the cave floor out of desperation for warmth. But it still wasn’t enough. 

“H-Hisagi..” you say through chattering teeth. “I know,” he holds you tighter, wracking his brain for an idea. 

The air around you suddenly grows tense. “Y-Y/n.. please don’t take this the wrong way, I promise I’m not a pervert...” You couldn’t tell if his shaky voice was from the cold or nervousness, but you already knew what he was going to suggest because you had thought about it too. 

A long, awkward moment passes, either him building up the courage or praying you would be the one to suggest it. You decide to answer his prayer, “…It’s only for survival. I don’t plan on dying of hypothermia any time soon.”

“Yes, yes, right, only for survival,” you would’ve laughed at his flustered response if it wasn’t because your heart was beating out of your chest at the idea. You could feel his too. 

Neither of you moved to be the first to start. Frankly, it was hard for you to move at all right now. He seemed to have noticed because he pulled away just enough to peel off his still-soaked shirt, letting out a shiver at his exposed skin. Next his pants. 

You both avoid eye contact fiercely, looking everywhere but each other. You slowly lifted your shaking arms and he got the message to help you. 

This was probably the most embarrassing thing you had ever done and you had no idea how you were going to look him in the eye after this. If it wasn’t because your skin was ice cold, your entire body would be on fire right now. 

The cold hit your bare chest and waist, your shivering picking up. You quickly strip your pants, refusing to let him do that one. For a moment, you both lay there naked, freezing and embarrassed out of your minds. 

The survival instinct part of your brains must have kicked in because he suddenly pulled you against him and you gripped him like your life depends on it. Well, it kinda does. 

His skin felt like ice against yours, his shivering matching yours, but you could feel it. The natural warmth of your bodies ever-so-slowly starting to radiate. Your shivering didn’t stop but it gradually slowed. 

You lay on your sides, Hisagi’s chin on top of your head, his eyes squeezed shut. So different from the responsible and serious lieutenant you knew. Your face was against his chest and you could hear his heartbeat clearly. It seemed he was even more nervous than you. 

You lay there in silence, trying to gain your heat back. Something started to.. poke your stomach. You were a bit delirious so you didn’t make the connection at first but soon the realization crashes down on you, sobering you right up. 

“I’m sorry,” Hisagi whispered. He sounded horrified but neither of you could pull away. 

You don’t know what made you do it, it must’ve been your confused state, but you shifted, feigning innocence as you adjusted your position slightly, making his tip rub against your stomach. You felt his body shiver, this time not from the cold. He grips you tighter. You move again. 

“Y/n..” he groans out, his voice cracking. Your stomach turns hearing your name spill out of his mouth in such a manner. You move again and he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his tip becoming slippery as a warm fluid drags against your stomach. 

You pull your arm in from having it around his back and drop your hand down, taking his full hardness in your hand. 

He gasps, his hand grips your hair when he squeezes you, “Y-Y/n..” He says it like it’s the only word he knows and that heats something deep within you. 

You begin stroking his shaft, slowly. You feel him straining against you. You slide your thumb over his slippery tip and he jerks, a guttural groan escaping his lips. You speed up, pumping his cock against your stomach. 

“Fuck,” his voice fails like he got the wind knocked out of him. You pump him again and he finally pulls his head away. You stop and he looks at you, his face devastated and bright red. Your face must look exactly the same because he scans it up and down. 

Without thinking, he grabs your face and smashes his lips into yours with such intensity you let go of him but he catches your hand and guides it back on, pumping himself with it. You moan into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to let his tongue in. 

His tongue explores your mouth while you stroke him, your own wetness starting to drip down your leg. 

His hand moves from your face to your neck, then down to your tits. He cups it in his hand, squeezing it just enough. “Hisagi,” you murmur weakly into his mouth. His dick twitches in your hand at the sound of his name. He runs his thumb over your peaked nipple, taking it between his thumb and forefinger and pinching. Your back arches, pushing you against him. 

Wet, sloppy sounds echo through the cave. He starts to buck his hips into your hand, his kiss and hand on your breast losing strength. He throws his head back, grinding his teeth, failing at suppressing his moans. He’s getting close, so you stop. 

He brings his head forward in a frustrated half cry. But you don’t wait very long, lifting your leg over his waist and pressing his wet tip against your slick folds. 

He loudly shudders, pushing his tattooed face into the crook of your neck. You move your hips, rubbing his tip against your slit, your moans bouncing off the cave walls. “Stop teasing, please,” he pleads, his voice sounding on the verge of tears. 

“I’m not teasing, you just won’t man up,” you softly taunt him. And he takes the bait. He stills, his head lifting from your neck, his gaze dark and lustful, completely different than before. Something snaps. He reaches down, ripping your hand from his cock, and pushing you completely on your back, caging you underneath him. 

“Hisagi-“ Before you can even get a word out, he lines his tip with your soaked entrance and slams down, filling you with his full length in one thrust. You scream out, the sound echoing back to you from the depths of the cave. 

You wrap your legs around him, causing him to go deeper. He pulls back up only to slam right back down with the same force. His thrusts take speed, hard and deep, the sounds of slapping skin filling the space. With each thrust, your eyes roll further into the back of your head. 

Your hands find his back, digging and scratching your nails. The pain makes him groan, his thrusts becoming harder. Your back arches, pathetic cries escape your mouth. “God, how you sound..” he grinds out through his teeth. Every sound you make drives him mad, bringing him closer to his release. You’re not far behind. 

His thrusts grow uncalculated and desperate, “Fuck, I-I’m… Can I-” His voice cracking every other word. You know what he’s asking. “Please, please Hisagi,” you beg unabashedly. Your begging breaks any last resolve he still had. 

His already desperate strokes somehow get faster, unrelenting, drilling your aching hole. You tighten your legs around his waist as your climax approaches, his thick cock hitting the deepest parts of your cunt, pushing you over the edge. 

You scream out in pure ecstasy. Your walls clench around his girth as you orgasm and that was enough. He throws his head back, losing myself completely, releasing a loud, broken moan, as thick, hot liquid spills into your pussy.

He collapses on top of you, his cock twitching as it spurts the last drops of his cum. Heavy, labored breaths are heard throughout the cave. 

After a moment, he gathers the strength to lift himself up and pulls his swollen cock out of you. You whimper as he slides it out, his seed dripping out of you. He tries and fails to look away; the sight is enough to get him excited all over again. 

You slam your legs shut, glaring, and he lifts his hands in surrender with a nervous laugh. He lays back down beside you. He wipes his forehead and in that action, you realize sweat has formed all along your body. Your body feels like it’s being boiled. 

You chuckle to yourself, and Hisagi catches what you realize. “Guess we accomplished our goal,” he breathes out. You put your hand on his. His wide eyes watch you in his peripheral but he shakes his head and smiles, looking up at the cave ceiling. 

You both lay there, hand in hand, basking in each other’s silence.

Too much silence. 

You turn your head towards the entrance of the cave only to realize the rain had stopped. Moonlight partially shines into the cave, leftover water droplets dripping from the entrance periodically. 

“We should probably-“ Hisagi started. 

“Later.” You cut him off, turning towards him, curling up against him as the nighttime chill began to reach you again. He shakes his head but wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tight. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

[dramaticallytotal]

For Your Entertainment Headcanons: Part One

Idea Post

• Chaos Gremlin Noah, my beloved! Chris purposefully starts drama in the show to entertain Noah because, as mentioned before, a bored Noah is a scary Noah. This is why he was so mad at Duncan for quitting. Noah was looking forward to the love triangle drama! Now what was Chris supposed to play on?

• Noah getting Harold kicked off was more brutal than any of my other aus. Bro compared Harold to Chris, and Harold took that personally. This happened after the challenge in Egypt was over, and they settled into the hotel they would be staying at for a while. A lot of people were chilling by the pool, and Noah was one of them. Noah really liked pools despite the crowds they attracted. Plus, he promised Izzy he would watch her do a handstand and walk the entire length of the pool while doing so. He had been doing so until he got bored and started reading Construire avec le peuple (Architecture For The Poor) by Hassan Fathy when Harold decided that he absolutely had to interrupt Noah to start a debate.

He had done this four times previously, and Noah was done.

Apparently, Harold could not let go of all the cultural insensitivities they encountered today and just had to tell the 50th person around so. All the while wearing that stupid tinfoil hat he made. Actually...that gave Noah an idea. An awful idea. It gave Noah a wonderful, awful idea!

• He laid into Harold about wearing the tinfoil hat and that by wearing it, he was being culturally insensitive. "You're basically stating that you don't believe in their history. You wearing that...thing...is a statement that you agree with erasing people's hard work and labor for a brain-dead conspiracy theory. Hard work and labor that was significantly important to not only their history but their culture.

You keep harping on about Chris and the Network but are just as bad as them. Maybe even worse, too, considering you keep telling everyone you know everything about Egypt. If you're so well read and educated about it, that makes your fashion choice all the more insulting. And all the worse because I'm pretty sure Chris's knowledge of Egypt is purely from The Mummy, Cleopatra, Gods of Egypt, and other movies.

Do better."

• Absolutely destroyed Harold. This made Harold determined to prove Noah wrong and to maybe appease himself of guilt. Which cultivated in him having to point out everything that could be seen as culturally insensitive.

• Each time Harold annoyed someone, Noah had to hide his widening smile. Especially if the someone was Chris, his annoyed expression was just too funny!

• Alejandro flirting with Leshawna and Bridgette was also really entertaining to Noah because of how the others reacted. Especially Harold! He was so mad and sad, and it was hilarious because he kept trying harder to seem cool and good, and it was failing spectacularly!

• Like I said before, Noah is pretty apathetic and only cares about Team E-Scope and Owen. He also holds little grudges against some competitors! Like, noticeably, Harold. Another one that may come as a surprise is Bridgette, which is why he found such joy in her predicament in the Yukon. Before he got eliminated on Island Noah, he didn't like many people there, but he thought Bridgette was pretty cool and nice, and he did think she was pretty. It was a small crush, one he knew he wasn't going to pursue but that didn't mean he couldn't be her friend.

Apparently, this must have given something away, though he had no idea how, and instead of talking to him, she joked about it to some of the girls knowing damn well that Geoff and his "bros" were listening in. It was most likely to see if the guy would get jealous, considering everyone knew the two were crushing on each other. That somehow made it worse to Noah because from then on, he started getting the Harold treatment from Geoff, Duncan, and DJ.

That pissed him right the hell off. He had done nothing, and all of a sudden, he was getting shoulder checked when walking to the mess hall. His books would go missing from time to time if he didn't hide them first. Just small shit like that, and he was over it.

It was one of the reasons he got himself voted off. He was not about to stick it out in a shitty summer camp while these dude bros wanted to act like high school movie bullies instead of focusing on the competition.

• He had no remorse. He had more fun watching the competition from the luxury of his resort room or the game room.

• So he has little grudges against Bridgette, Geoff, DJ, and Duncan because of that whole mess. Everyone else he just doesn't care about. He tried to get to know some of them on Island and in Aftermath, but it was like they were humoring him. And he knew some only interacted with him because he was Owen's best friends. He was content with that, though, because the way he saw it, he at least tried, and that's more than he can say for the others.

So yeah, he doesn't really care what happens to everyone else.

• Izzy and him are chaos siblings, and Eva is terrified that they are on the same team without her being there to keep an eye on them and be their stern voice of reason. She should be.

• The number of times that Chef has had to carry them under his arms away from areas they weren't allowed is too much. All the while, the two are giggling maniacally.

• When Noah told Alejandro "Good Work," about Bridgette in the Yukon. Alejandro was afraid his teammate had found him out and went on the offense, which was flirting. He figured he could distract Noah with the flirting, and they could forget the whole mess.

It seemed to work if the blushing was anything to go by. Or the way Noah looked away if he complimented him and smiled a little. He was a little surprised when Noah would compliment him back of whisper snide comments to him, and he figured that was the snark's way of flirting back.

He assumed his plan worked and didn't pay any more close attention to his teammate. Which was a mistake he later learned.

• Noah knew he shot himself in the foot when he complimented Alejandro on a job well done with Bridgette, but he didn't care because it led to more entertainment for him! Alejandro started flirting with him, and the expressions of the females were delicious! So he acted shy and coy and would reciprocate the flirting here in there in his own way, and the way Alejandro fell for it was also hilarious. It took everything in him not to cackle.

• The crew and interns love their gremlin boss, which is why they have a code for if they think he's getting bored and they really can't have that! So if they see even an inkling of boredom, they call a Code B-72 and rush to find something that will entertain him. Most of the time, it's helping sneak him to Chris and Chef's room so Chris and Noah can watch Love Island together with excuse that Chris misses his trash TV buddy.

Or they sneak him books!

• After the confrontation in the cargo hold, Alejandro is always close by Noah looking at him with absolute moon eyes. Noah thinks this is still Alejandro flirting with him because he caught him, but no....Alejandro is just a simp now.

• Before their next challenge, Noah makes sure to get Alejandro alone so he can tug him down by his necklace again. He doesn't notice that the guy doesn't seem bothered by this in the least. "You're going to try today. That's not a question. You are going to actually try and win with the rest of us, and if we lose. We lose. But at least we lost when putting in effort. If we win? All the better. Understand?"

Alejandro, breathless, "Si."

"Good boy." After making his point, Noah once more patted Alejandro on the cheek before walking away again. And again, he left Alejandro absolutely flustered and heart eyed.

• Next challenge was the Amazon, and Alejandro did still get punched by Owen, but Noah thought it would be funny to fuss over the hunk of a guy in front of everyone, especially the girls. Alejandro could die happy with the attention he was getting from his zorro.

• Alejandro went down the zipline with Noah, and Noah let it happen because there was no way he was doing that himself. He just went along for the ride and clung to Alejandro, who swore he was in heaven the entire ride down.

• When they stopped to make camp, Noah made sure to act like he wasn't doing much besides indulging Izzy and Owen in their shenanigans, but he was also telling them to go get firewood while Alejandro told Trent, Tyler, and Justin set up their sleeping bags and such while he and Noah went to find some food.

Thank goodness Noah was in the Boy Guides of Canada when he was younger even though he didn't stay long. Plus, he read those survival handbooks, and his sister was studying to be a horticulturist, and she had a phase where she wanted to harvest her own food or take trips into the forest to find "hidden snacks" and of course he got dragged along.

• No Owen being taken by the giant caterpillars. Alejandro is a simp, and he knew Noah would be angry. Of course, Noah noticed his anger with the oaf and how he didn't let him be taken, so he rewarded Alejandro with a smile and pat to the head. It had Alejandro on cloud nine.

• Noah's all about reward systems.

• Thankfully, his friends respond to them, too! And so does Alejandro! Win win.

• They don't win the challenge, but Noah still gives Alejandro a smile because he knew the guy was actually trying. Noah may or may not start being fond of Alejandro more than he was before. But according to his observation, Alejandro seems fond of him, too.

• Alejandro starts to let Noah see the real him behind the masks and feels so relieved when the guy doesn't hate him or finds him weird. He feels accepted, and he doesn't fail to notice how Noah opens up to him in return or the way they both get closer, and Noah gets more touchy feel-y.

Noah finds the real Alejandro worlds more interesting than his mask and realizes that he's starting to get a crush on the guy.

• Chris and Chef also notice this development and are thankful that Alejandro is keeping their little gremlin entertained, but also, how dare that charmer make goo-goo eyes at their gremlin!?

Next

[bones4thecats]

hello, I would like to make a request to Ignihyde with a reader like Magara from Hercules (note, magara! reader being Idia's boyfriend(girlfriend) please

The Reader Being Twisted From Megara

Characters: Idia and Ortho Shroud Requester: @marinahavik A/N: Heyo there, Marina! I know this has taken a while to get out there, but I've been busy with some extra side-hassles with the blog. Note; there will be an announcement after this comes out! Anyways, I do hope you enjoy this pieces despite coming out a while after requested😅 Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Book 6 and mentions of Death

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————- 　 Idia Shroud 　———————————-««

🎮 Wow, talk about opposites attract

🎮 This guy is literally known around Night Raven College for being a shut-it, meanwhile you are known for being a fairly obvious and cynical person. One that is hailed at being worse than Professor Trein when upset

🎮 Now, for the many years you and Idia have known one another, he by far believes that he deserves to have a friend as cool and chilled out as you around him. He’s a 'weird otaku' for crying out loud

🎮 When you guys first met, you were settling down from fight with another classmate. Apparently, he had tried to hit your younger sister, and in a fit of rage, you grabbed his hair and began to beat him senseless. And while you were fairly cynical when replying to the principal’s questions, Idia was more timid

🎮 You and him were released from the office, and when you introduced yourself and found out he got in trouble for messaging his parents because it was the date of his younger brother’s death, you swore to stand by his side. No take backs

🎮 Ever since then, Idia has been hooked onto you, which led to your relationship blossoming into what it is today

🎮 Idia is definitely nervous of being in a relationship with you, as you had a bad experience with your past boyfriend who was known by many names, Donovan or Don, or even Adonis! Talk about a spoiled narcissist

🎮 But, every time you notice that he is burying himself into these awful thoughts, you would jump in and begin to help him by reassuring him that he is far better than Donovan ever was to you. As he actually listens and talks to you instead of ignoring you and belittling you in front of his friends like Donovan

🎮 Speaking of Donovan, when he came by and tried to offer to rekindle your relationship, Idia showed a whole other side of him that scared all that witnessed the event

🎮 As the golden-haired man held your hand while bent down on one knee, your boyfriend literally blew up in flames, but, instead of blue ones, they were a hellfire-red and orange. And once he saw just how pissed the dormhead was, Donovan lunged out of there, but not before he praised on how you would regret rejecting him and for 'embarrassing' him

🎮 Please, he's an embarrassment on his own.

🎮 But, despite your cynical and disgusted-appearing nature, you really were a sweetheart inside. This was shown to Idia when you first interacted with Ortho, or, the robot-him that is...

🎮 You held his hand as he walked to practice, you'd allow him to recharge in your lap, hell, you would even allow him to do whatever he wanted with your extremely long and thick hair- sometimes the tiny mech would even match both you and his brother's hair

🎮 Don't mind Idia, he's just rebooting in the background- something about losing to much XP or whatever

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»———————————-　 Ortho Shroud　———————————-««

🤖 Ortho is absolutely the biggest sweetheart you have ever met in your life!

🤖 When he first came back to life after Idia's overblot, he had no idea what happened or who you were. But, once you explained everything about you and Idia's bond, leaving out his death date and such, since he was no doubt overwhelmed with the fact his brother had an S/O

🤖 Ortho hugged your tightly as you just chuckled and gave him pats on his tiny robotic back

🤖 Idia awoke from his small nap in the nurse-ward to see you and Ortho curled up on a nearby sofa, the younger male being propped up in your arms like a toddler would with his mother

🤖 The younger Shroud would be lying if he said that he didn't love teasing you and his brother! He's the younger sibling, and as the younger sibling in a family, it is our job to make the oldest regret wishing for us. I can guarantee that, I have two older brothers

🤖 Like I mentioned earlier, you allow Ortho to hold your hand whenever he walked, have him recharge/rest in your lap, and let him style your hair

🤖 Speaking of your hair, whenever he does both you and his brother's to match, he just chuckles mischievously in the background as you hold Idia up and try getting a bottle of water in his mouth to cool him down from his embarrassment

[kitweewoos]

golden repair

Cw: miscarriage

[read it on ao3]

"Is there anyone we can call for you, sweetheart? Someone you want to be here with you?" the nurse asked as she helped Buck settle into the bed. There wasn't much they could do for him at this point, but they had him on some painkillers, and he had changed into a huge, impossibly thick diaper.

"Uhm. Yeah. Tommy, in my phone, he's the father. Please."

He unlocked the phone and handed it over to her with Tommy's contact open. He hadn't had the heart to block him or change it, still reading TOMMY 🔥❤ as if Tommy hadn't destroyed his heart.

"Okay, you rest, and we'll call him," she said, writing the number down on her notepad. "Does he know about the pregnancy?"

"No, he doesn't," Buck replied.

"That's okay. You rest, then. I'll be back."

The nice nurse disappeared, and left him alone. The wait was excruciating, worse than the cramping or the feeling of failure that was swallowing him, but he wasn't even sure that Tommy was going to show up so he didn't know if he was waiting on something that wouldn't happen.

Then, he heard the sound of the nurse's voice directing someone into a room - his room - and a familiar frame turned the corner. Tommy was dressed in his flight suit, and Buck winced, realizing that he'd called him straight from work.

"Evan," he said. "I - what's going on? They wouldn't give me any information over the phone, just said that you'd asked for me."

"I didn't mean to call you at work," Buck replied. "Your captain's probably pissed, huh?"

"Don't worry about that, any of that. That's - I can handle him. Are you okay?"

"Uhm. Well. Yea - well, no, I'm - I'm not. I'm having a miscarriage actually."

"A miscar- you're pregnant."

"Not anymore," Buck replied, and then winced at himself. "Sorry, that's - I was pregnant. I found out about two weeks ago, and I was trying to figure out how to tell you about the, the baby, but before I could, I started cramping really bad, and bleeding. My doctor wanted me to just wait it out, but apparently I didn't pass all the tissue naturally, and I'm past nine weeks along, they think, so they're considering doing a surgery to get rid of the rest of the tissue. But they're monitoring me in the meantime to see if we can avoid the D-and-C."

"Evan," Tommy said softly, coming to sit in the chair right beside him but he didn't offer his hand immediately to Buck, which ached in his chest even if it made sense. "I'm sorry."

"I know I probably shouldn't have had them call you, you made it clear that you didn't want me, but I just wanted to see you, I wanted you, I wanted you to hold my hand through this."

"You can always call me, Evan, especially if you need someone to hold your hand in the hospital."

"I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable, or make it seem like I can't respect your decision."

"Evan, I still care about you, and I will come when you call. I don't want you to hesitate before you call me, okay? I'll be there when you need."

There were just enough pain killers in his system now that he felt his tongue loosen before he spoke.

"Then, what was the point of breaking up with me, Tommy? Why'd you put me through this if you still care about me and will be here when I need you? Why can't we be together?"

"We - we shouldn't be talking about this right now."

"It's either that or I think about how I'm actively losing the baby we created together, so I'd rather we talk about this, actually."

Tommy flinched, and looked at Buck's hand where the IV was settled, and then back up at his face. There was an honesty there that Buck hadn't ever seen before, and he wanted to live in that openness.

"You terrify me, Evan. You move so fast, and are steps beyond me before I realize that you've moved, and - the last time I was in a relationship like that, the guy ended up realizing that I wasn't what he wanted at all, that he'd found something better with the next guy, and I'd already settled into the idea of us together. It was devastating, and I was left as this empty shell of a person afterwards, just floating from guy to guy in this empty cycle of sex and dates that went nowhere. And I didn't feel nearly anywhere as much for him as I did for you, and not nearly as quickly. It terrified me to realize how much I could lose if you, if you decided that I wasn't what you wanted, either, and obviously, you would move on from me. I'm a fuck up, I'm mean and rash, I've got scars that I've never shared, and I'll push you away when you try to see them. I can get quiet and withdrawn, I'm not this great perfect guy, I'm certainly no one to look up to or admire. I'm just... I'm not someone you would want."

"But I do want you, Tommy. I've been in that position before, too, where someone just decides that you're not enough for them, that you're not it, and I would never do that to you. I'm so in this relationship that I could build a home in it if you'd let me, and I know inviting you to move in with me was stupid because you own a house, and it was too soon because we'd only been together for six months, and I hadn't even told you that I loved you yet, but I do love you, and I want everything that comes with being with you. I want messy fights over stupid shit, and I want making love to you in the morning before you leave for work, and I want to make something worth having, I want to build that with you."

"Evan," he sighed. "You don't know that that won't change."

"And you don't know that it will! You seem to think that I'm some twenty year old still experimenting, and I'm not. I'm almost thirty-three, and I want to settle into something good for me, I did my experimenting already, I fucked everything that moved and I know what I like, and yes, I didn't fuck men, but I don't need to sleep with a bunch of different guys to know that I want the man who came to the hospital to be with me after we broke up so I wasn't alone. I want the man who is here, Tommy, right here, all the broken, angry bits of him, all the sharp edges and rough surfaces, all the places I could cut myself on. I don't just want the man who kissed me in my kitchen and made me realize how many things I was missing, but I want the man who had to keep his mouth shut in the army and under Gerrard to survive, who's scared and lashes out first. I want the man who gave me a second chance after I fucked up our first date, and I want the man who broke up with me out of nowhere and wouldn't let me get a word in. I want all of you, okay? I want you, because when I found out I was pregnant, when that fucking test read positive, I knew that I wanted to share it with you, because you love me, and you would love our child."

Tommy's eyes misted so beautifully, and Buck made the choice for them. He reached out and took Tommy's hand, drawing it back onto the hospital bed by his hip.

"I do," he murmured softly, and Buck squeezed his hand. "I love you. I - I didn't realize how much of me you actually saw, and I thought that you'd just - I don't know - settled for the first guy. But I love you, Evan, and I would've loved our child so much. I'm sorry you're going through this."

"It wasn't the right time," Buck said softly even though he ached thinking about this little bean that they lost. "The next time you put a baby in me, though, Thomas, you had better be there the entire time. Understood?"

Tommy nodded fervently, and leaned in to kiss Buck's hand, pressing his lips to his knuckles sweetly.

"I know this doesn't make up for everything, but I will be so much better for you. You shouldn't have had to go through any of this alone. I'll be so much better for you," Tommy said, and he leaned forward to rest his mouth against Buck's knuckles like a prayer. Buck lifted his free hand and brushed it through Tommy's hair, and sighed.

"You're here now, that's all that matters. As long as you keep showing up, I think we'll get through anything life throws at us."

He didn't kiss Tommy, it wasn't time for that yet, that would come later after an open and honest discussion when one of them wasn't high on painkillers, but he kept his hand moving through Tommy's hair as Tommy knelt his head in prayer over Buck's hand and beyond it his belly. Whatever came next, they could face it, their cracks mended with gold and made stronger for it.