#whatever Rose's mom's name is

[moonofthechilcotin]

What I'm really missing in life right now is the Cora/Suzanne and/or Cora/O'Brien FACE OFF we never got 😭

EDIT: Was only missing the most important part of the sentence for CONTEXT 😂😂😂

[noxcheshire]

Back at it again with my Danny is mom coded au’s, but this time it’s because of Clockwork that he suddenly has a whole ass teenage kid.

Clockwork had been bored or maybe he was playing a game against an opponent, or even lost a bet, whatever it was, he stepped in right as Jason was searching for his biological mother.

The DNA that would have registered itself as one Sheila Haywood, confirming Jason’s mother, glitched a terrible green across the screens of the batcomputer.

In those few moments of chaos Jason’s heart beat rapidly as he tried to figure out why the computer wasn’t working, wondering if his only chance to find his mom — his blood mom — would never find success.

Then as suddenly as things went wrong the DNA settled and pinged.

Jason watched, his chest tight, as one Danny C. Works, formerly Danny Fenton appeared onto the big screen.

Danny looked a lot like Jason, short cut black hair more straight than the subtle curls of Jason’s own; deep blue eyes, tired in a way that spoke of long days and nights, but with a warm happiness that made the familiar smile — the one Jason would see on himself every time he looked into the mirror — even more striking.

Jason didn’t linger too long on the male identifying gender, nor the fact his mom leaned more towards a masculine name or clothing.

There were plenty of male to female, and female to male leaning individuals that lived in Crime Alley. He had seen it enough to not even bat an eye at it, even now. After all, in Gotham you minded your business least you find yourself in business you can’t leave.

On a different monitor information of Danny C. Works piled for Jason to quickly browse through.

Danny was a senior engineer, no intimate relationships, and with no close connections to family outside of the tentative calls from Jasmine Fenton.

Danny was estranged from Jack and Madeline Fenton, a falling out that had occurred just a little before Danny’s high school graduation. If Jason calculated it correctly that would have been — around the season Jason himself would have been born.

Okay, so no grandparents then but I might have a maybe aunt. Jason scrolled further and stilled.

Twin toddlers: Dante and Danielle Works.

Jason had baby siblings.

He doesn’t let the sting of younger siblings consume him, doesn’t allow the whispering thoughts of why he had been given up when his younger siblings had been kept and so very obviously loved.

Jason took deep breathes, he didn’t have time to linger here. He had a family to get to, and a family he would get to.

It took almost all night to reach, the starlight night sky slowly and surely fading into cloudy wine as the sun rose, but Jason made it.

And when the door opened to his hesitant but firm knock, Jason was unable to speak. His mom — dad, maybe? Did they want to be mom or dad? — stood in the doorway, brows furrowed in confusion.

It was when Danny spoke his vigilante name did Jason only just realize that he was still dressed to the nine’s in his Robin costume.

[laligraves]

chp.2 - poolside

morning run series

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.7k summary: Your nap is interrupted by Joel. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading (not enough so sorry for mistakes), Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, alcohol consumption, pet names, some degradation, breeding kink (yeah), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i'm still here <3! just busy with real life :( i don't have a huge plan for this series except to make little one shots here and there since i have a lot of fun with these two characters lol. other stuff on the way i promise <3

You left two days after that encounter with Joel Miller. Your head was still spinning and your pussy still sore, but the semester started and you needed to be back on campus. 

The first night back in your dorm, you debated throwing out the roses that now sat on your desk. You lasted 10 minutes just looking at them before you were touching yourself to the memory of him. You could still feel the scratch of his beard on your neck and remember the smell of his cologne. 

He’d put his phone number in your contact list and you debated calling him. But what would you even say? 

You should be mad at Joel for what he did. Yet somehow, he managed to reach into the deepest corners of your mind and fulfill one of your darkest fantasies. 

Now, back in town, you can’t help but feel a little excited to see him again. Even if the more sane part of your brain is trying to convince you to slap him across the face if he comes near.  

“Hey, lazy girl,” your sister calls out. 

“Hey,” you respond softly, not moving from your spot on the lounge chair. 

“I’m leaving. Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, knowing you’ll probably spend the entire week swimming and sunbathing by the pool. 

“I left money on the counter and the keys to my car in case you need it.” 

“Okay, mom,” you say sarcastically. 

She throws a pool noodle at you and leaves with her friend after that, promising to text you when she reaches her destination. Any other time you’d be disappointed that your sister was leaving for a full week just as you arrived for summer vacation, but she’s been working so much that she deserves a trip. 

The stress from the semester leaves your body with each lap around the crisp pool and the warm sun. You go back into the house to make yourself a tequila soda and make your way back out to the chairs underneath the canopy. 

A sudden thought pops into your head as you look around the empty backyard. The fences are tall enough and the gate leading to the backyard is locked. Your sister doesn’t have cameras that face this side of the house yet, so there’s really no reason for you to be so nervous. 

You’ve never sunbathed in the nude, there’s just never been an opportunity for it. But now, with the house empty and the tequila coursing through your veins, it would be the perfect time to do so. 

Before the courage leaves you, you slip off the strings of the bikini and spread out on the lounge chair.

“Absolutely nothing to worry about,” you whisper. 

You eventually doze off, moving around until you’re once again face down. A text message from your sister lights up your screen, but at this point you’ve fallen asleep and don’t pay any mind to it. 

I forgot to tell you that Joel Miller from down the block is stopping by. He’s going to plant the roses Susan wants, but needs to take a look first. Help him with whatever he needs. Tell him thank you! 

You start to dream of Joel massaging sunscreen on your back, trailing his hands over your sides until they land on the soft, plump flesh of your ass. 

His hands massage and spread your cheeks open, presenting your asshole and pussy for his eyes. Joel lands a glob of spit right on your little winking star and you flinch slightly. 

“It’s okay, babydoll,” he coos. 

The tip of his finger circles your asshole just a bit, enough for you to shiver from the sensation. 

His fingers trail down to your pussy where he slowly teases a finger up and down your slit, gathering the wetness. 

“Joel,” you whimper. 

You push back on his hand, overcome with need.

Joel laughs at your desperate attempts to fuck yourself on his hand and moves your thigh to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt. 

Before you have a chance to complain, he spreads you open and runs his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip the towel and you almost scream in surprise. 

At the scrape of his teeth on your inner thigh and the scratch of his beard on your skin, you begin to wake. This isn’t a dream.  

“What–” 

“‘bout time you woke up,” Joel growls. “Dreamin’ about me, babydoll?” 

You lift your head, slightly delirious, still grinding back on his face. 

“Joel, whatthefuck–” you whisper, words slurred from sleep. 

He tongues your entrance and swipes a finger over your clit, a movement that has you almost seeing stars. Joel ignores your pleas for him to wait, choosing instead to push two large fingers into your pussy. You choke down on your words at the stretch, still confused. 

“Can barely fit my fingers in this sweet cunt,” Joel says.  

“Wait–” you whimper, “fuck, wait.” 

With his fingers still in your pussy, he moves up to lie partially on top of you. He bites your shoulder, neck, runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear. 

“No waiting, babydoll. Gotta stretch this tiny hole,”  

Vulgar. He’s so nasty with his words, still, your pussy beats with its own heartbeat. 

“Joel–” 

“All this time waitin’ for you to call me,” Joel hums into your ear, “just used me for my cock, didn’t you? Little slut.” 

“No, I didn’t. I–” 

“I knock you up?” 

You give a tiny, jerky shake of your head, no, unable to form words. 

“Guess we’ll have to try again, yeah?” he murmurs in your ear. “Gonna’ fill up this pussy.”

“No—“

You mean to say it with conviction. But your voice wavers, and you cum right into the palm of his hand, soaking him.

You grind down on his hand and bite into the towel to muffle your screams. 

“Good girl,” Joel groans, “just love makin’ a mess, don’t cha’?”   

Your hands slowly let go of the towel and your body becomes limp. Joel stands from the chair and you hear the clatter of his belt and the soft rustle of his clothes landing on the ground. 

Your nap being interrupted by Joel is not something you were expecting. In fact, what is he doing here?

“Joel, what are you–” 

His hands reach for your hips and he’s flipping you over on your back, making room for himself between your thighs.

“Needa look at your pretty face and pretty tits while I fuck ‘ya.” 

“We can’t–” 

Joel’s calloused fingers pinch your hard-tipped nipples and as if your body is already conditioned for him, you push up right into his hands.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel groans. 

Before you know what’s happening, Joel leans down to drag his tongue over each peak. He bites, leaving only a hint of pain and shushing your needy whines. 

He grinds down between your open thighs, covering his cock in your slick. You moan and writhe on the lounge chair, twisting your hips with each bump of his mushroom head right on your swollen button. 

 “Joel, please,” you beg. 

But you’re not quite sure what you’re begging for. The sane part of your brain tells you to put an end to this, to send Joel far away from you. But then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and your mind goes blank.

Joel keeps biting, sucking, lapping at your tits until you feel the familiar sensation in your lower belly. As if sensing another orgasm, either from your moans or the way you're grinding up on his cock, Joel stops, placing a soft kiss on each nipple before leaning back. 

“I needed to taste those tits before I fuck ya’,” Joel rasps. 

You tremble beneath him, laying there in a sweaty heap. Joel’s face is slightly flushed and his chest rises with each ragged breath he takes. 

Fuck, he’s handsome. Salt and pepper hair, creases around his eyes, a hooked nose and a huge cock make him the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. 

The second he releases your hands, you drag your fingers down his hairy chest and over his soft belly. He’s hard and soft, muscular from working outside but with a belly that you want to lay your head on. 

He moves your hand away, linking his fingers through one of yours and uses his other hand to bump the tip of his length at your entrance. You try, in a small voice that’s just about surrendered to the lust swirling in your head, to stop Joel, suddenly remembering that this is not your house, but your sister’s. 

“Joel, my sister is inside–” 

He tsks in disappointment. “She’s gone for the week,” he interrupts, swirling the tip of his cock on your clit, “don’t lie to me, babydoll.”

Your mouth opens to ask how exactly he knows that, but Joel takes that moment to slide right in. A high-pitched squeal claws its way out of your mouth at the stretch of his cock. 

Joel groans, sounding almost pained. His eyes shut and his mouth drops open while you fight to push him off of you. You forgot just how large he was, and even if your cunt is slick and this isn’t the first time, it’s still a little painful. 

Joel places your hand above your head, still keeping his fingers linked, and uses his other hand to push up your thigh. His nose brushes yours and he gives you a soft kiss.  

He rocks his hips slowly, pushing his tongue into your mouth and matching the pace. You don’t kiss him back, too preoccupied with the cock spearing inside of you and the loss of air in your lungs. 

“Too much–”, you mumble, “too much!” 

Joel moves his lips down your chin, the tip of his tongue dragging a hot path down your neck. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as you try to catch your breath. Each thrust of his hips make you lightheaded. 

“No,” Joel murmurs into your neck, “you can take it, babydoll. Take it like a good girl.”  

With your free hand you try to push at his hips, for him to just give you a moment to breathe. Joel quickly takes your other hand and places it above your head, locking both of your wrists in his grasp. 

Your tits are in Joel’s face, pushed up by the arch of your back. Joel takes full advantage and runs his tongue over your swollen nipples. 

You’re not speaking coherently anymore. Between your pleas for him to slow down, please you whine with each hard thrust into your pussy. 

“Fuckin’ greedy,” Joel groans, “pussy keeps suckin’ me right back in.” 

“You’re so fucking nasty,” you mumble in half-hearted anger. 

But he’s right. Your pussy flutters with each slide of his cock and your thighs bracket his hips, keeping him as close as possible.

The thick head of his cock bumps your womb and you’re almost certain he’s growing bigger inside of you. You can smell him, his cologne and sweat, the scent of a man who spends his time working outside with his hands. 

If Joel were any other man, you’d hate the smell. But with him, it’s intoxicating. 

The first time together was quick, in his front yard where you were forced to stay quiet and take whatever he gave you. Now, your whimpers are loud and he’s in no rush to finish quickly. 

“Gonna breed this little cunt,” Joel slurs, “gonna make you a mommy.”

His hips move faster and tears begin to fall from the corner of your eyes. Joel invades your space and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. Imprints of his teeth and his saliva are left on your neck, tits, and mouth. 

“You want that babydoll? Wanna make me a daddy?” 

Any other man, especially one who is practically a stranger would make you cringe. But Joel’s breeding kink doesn’t phase you. You fall into the fantasy of him cumming inside of you and giving you a baby. 

He pushes his tongue almost down your throat while he fucks you. You kiss him back and suck his tongue on instinct. He whimpers, a sound that makes your pussy tighten in response.  

“Jesus–,” Joel groans. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper, “m–more, please!” 

The chair shakes with each of his thrusts, just about able to hold your combined weight. Joel lets go of your hands and leans back to watch his cock slide into you, seemingly mesmerized at the sight. 

Your hands reach for his sweaty chest, arms, caressing his heated skin. Joel pushes your thighs open and you hear every sticky, wet slide of his cock.

He’s suddenly sliding a hand underneath your neck. 

“Look, babydoll,” Joel gasps. 

You don’t pay him much attention, your eyes barely able to focus on his face.   

“C’mon–fuck.” 

You lean up on your elbows with the little energy you have left and watch his length, veiny and large, covered in your slick, piston in and out of you. 

If it didn’t feel so good, it would be almost scary to look at. Joel, so much larger and stronger than you, somehow able to fit so perfectly inside of you. 

You fall back on the lounge chair and Joel places your ankle on his shoulder. He turns his head to nip your soft skin, leaving another imprint of his teeth on your body. 

He pushes his thumb inside of your mouth and doesn’t even flinch as you bite down. 

“I almost drove down to that college of yours,” he moans, “wanted to drag you outta the dorm and fuck you in the hallway.” 

You moan around his thumb, lost in the fantasy of big, broad Joel dragging you by the hair and fucking you out in the open, in front of everyone to see. 

His words are slurred at this point. But he's so drunk on pure lust that he can’t help himself but keep talking. 

“Wanted to show everyone who owns this slut pussy.”  

The way he speaks to you should make you angry, but you pussy only flutters and squeezes as he calls you his little slut.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and gently slaps your cheek before swiping his spit-covered thumb over your clit. 

He swipes over your swollen bud, once, twice, using your spit and slick that now covers both of your lower bodies.

Your orgasm tears through you, washing over you in warm waves of bliss. 

Joel keeps fucking you, moving faster until his hips piston and you're being used as a toy while your orgasm courses through your body. 

He lays on top of you, keeping your thrashing and whimpering body bracketed onto the chair. Joel’s moans grow loud in your ear and you know he’s close. 

“Not inside–” you whimper, “don’t cum–” your words not having any real meaning behind them except to add to your fantasy. 

“Fuckin’ mine, my little cunt,” Joel snaps, “gonna cum in my babydoll–” 

He swells impossibly larger inside of you and then you feel it, the hot splash of cum. Ropes and ropes fill your cunt and he grinds his cock into you, buries his head in your neck and groans your name over and over again. 

Your body, still recovering from your orgasm from only a few moments ago, trembles once more. The warmth of his cum painting your womb shakes another one out of you. 

You’re not sure how long it lasts. Joel continues to whisper in your ear about how fuckin’ sweet you are and how you have the tiniest cunt ever, babydoll while his cock fills you with cum. 

Joel continues to lay on top of you and while he’s larger in every sense of the way, his weight is comforting. The setting sun is blocked by the canopy which you're grateful for because you don’t want him to move. 

“How are ya’ feeling?” Joel asks. 

You’ve almost fallen asleep at this point. 

“Full… and sore,” you whisper. 

“Maybe this time I’ll actually knock you up,” Joel whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

You roll your eyes and push him off of you. 

“Not going to happen, old man. I’m on birth control. And we just met!"

“Shame,” he sighs dramatically. “How about I grill us some steaks?” 

[castoffyourcrown]

((Tag dump~))

[miyakiwiii]

RUN MY HANDS THROUGH HIS SHORT BLACK HAIR..。o○

-KANG DAE HO X GN!READER☆ミ

Woah! First time writing squid game chat! This is going to be probably buns but uh... hope you enjoy!1!1

TAGS

Comfort fic, reader and dae ho arent requited in squid game... for now, sleepy dae ho? Idk but theres sokting bad

WORD COUNT:602

The sound of raindrop's pierce through your ears as it hits the window.

The bed isnt too comfortable,but that should do it for the both of you. It was comforting enough that he was beside you.

You look at the window, the rain pours loudly yet again, he shuffles in the bed as sign's of discomfort showed on his face.

You noticed the moving, and went to look at him, he was gripping you tightly, Startled by the action of dae ho.

"Dae ho?" You say, facing him. He grunts more as he held you more closer to him, his body warmth mixing with your warmness.

"Dont.... go." He grumbles silently, he snuggles his head in your chest.

"Im not going anywhere, y'know? As if.. i can go somewhere.." i say as i whispered the last five words and one letter that came out of my mouth.

Well, debt's debt i guess.

You ran your hands through his hair, you untied the hairtie that was about to fall off as you put it on your hand, he probably wont notice it was gone.

His face eases up, now his face is not snuggled up your chest.

You smiled slightly, relieved since now he didnt show any discomfort.

"So soft.." You ran through his hair again as he was sound asleep now.

Feeling tired and hazy, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh.

Waking up, the sun haze's into your features as your eyes slowly rose to open, feeling tired just a little bit, you rubbed your eyes so it could stay open.

'Who- who even is that dae ho guy?!?' 'Mom wait no- please.. dont-'

'IM GETTING YOU OUT OF THIS PLACE.'

I sighed, rubbing the temples of my head, '...these strange memories keep coming back... i guess.'

'Even if i risked it all just for love, its worth it.' I said in my mind as i looked into dae ho, he opens his eyes slowly as he looked at mine, opening and closing his lips slightly then, yawning.

"[Name]?" He replies hazyly.

"Good morning... or whatever, dae ho." I replied.

I sit up as he went to sit up too, the sheets in the bed turning messy, the blanket shuffling as you leaned your head into the head board.

"Y'know... you should touch my hair more often, its... nice." He says, swinging a hand in your shoulders as he leaned you to his shoulder, the feeling of the wooden headboard gone from the back of your head.

"Oh, you felt that?" You asked, it was like a murmur.

"Uhuh, yeah." He replies softly, like a whisper that gazed your ears.

You giggled as he followed, he pressed a kiss in your forehead and smiled. It made the feeling inside the room too comforting, it all felt too.. loving.

Even if he was kinda arrogant at times, he still knew how to respect, he was a gentleman, basically.

Being in a family filled with girls, and him being the only boy? He could definately be a gentleman.

Comforting silence fills the room as it eases, you smiled but the smile falters as you broke the silence.

"Hey dae ho.." you say.

He raises a brow and asks "Yeah?" Turning and positioning his head to look at you.

"I hope we can have the chance to be finally free from this situation." You say, closing your eyes slowly, and opening it back once again.

"Dont hope, say 'we can' instead yanno'?" He smiles.

After all, he was lighting up the worsest days for the both of you.

THIS IS SO BUNS. IM SOREY CHAT.

[sphireath-wisp]

Can I make a Blue Lock request With Headcanons? With the boys, Reo Mikage, Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi (with a female reader who is a k-pop idol (she's in a girl group, I love them ❤️🎀) And they are coming out, + all individual)

The theme of the female Reader's group can be whatever you want, although I would like its concept to be something school-like or cute in the style of TWICE or OH MY GIRL, (You can write them as adults or teenagers, as you wish)

Fluff 💕

#사탕처럼 달콤하다는데~

Sypnosis: I'm not too sure exactly what you mean by 'they're coming out', but I'll be writing general headcanons + soft/hard launching your relationship with them to the public.

Warnings: Not proofread, the reader has to conform to idol standards, the reader is described as feminine (girl-crush/girl-next-door concept), All aged-up

Featuring: Reo Mikage, Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi x F! Idol! Reader (in that specific order)

With one hand, you hug a large bouquet of pink roses to your chest. There's a silk, velvety ribbon that ties the bundle of flowers together and it's so big compared to your face. Well, the giddy smile on your face may rival it. Yet, that's not even the biggest feature of your post. No one could miss the deep violet of REO MIKAGE'S hair in the frame of your mirror. Your other arm is hooked around his neck with your phone in your hands, the purple phone charm hanging off of it - it's no coincidence that the colour of the charm matches his hair. He has his back facing the mirror and his hands rest on your hips to support you up onto the couch. Even though no one could see his face, it was clear to everyone who he was to you. yn-archives 'mom approved <3'

"aint no way she snatched up the HEIR OF THE FUCKING MIKAGE CORPERATION??" "my girl yn had standards that reach the heavens" "their chemistry must be insane"

I just KNOW he's so whipped for you, both in public and private

Definitely attends your concerts with Nagi and Chigiri (he drags them along for good measure)

Before your (lowkey hard) launch, people just assumed he was there to enjoy himself and was a fan of your music - not that he was literally YOUR MAN

Not a big fan of the girl-crush concept, but he supports it because it's you!! (I'm telling you, this guy likes his woman mature... probably whipped for the mature concepts though)

I'm telling you, the signs were OBVIOUS before yall even posted this

"@yn-archives your biggest fan <3" ok Reo Mikage, #1 fanboy...

"@officialmikage-reo good game!! (idk what was going on, but I'm you're #1 cheerleader)" just say yall are in love at this point...

Yall act like you're SO SLICK when he stares at you in the crowd of people and effortlessly finds you, when you always somehow get front-row seats reserved for VIPs, when you purposefully find out his seat number in the crowd to interact with that section of the crowd...

Always pays even when you remind him that you're literally on of the top idols out there (like you're thriving, but he still insists on paying anyway)

When a reporter asked the members of Manshine City their opinions on you, Chigiri had to shut Reo up because he swore that "he was growing ears and a wagging tail, like a dog". Nagi took over and said you were nice. It went something like...

Reporter: "What do you think about the idol (Name)?"

Reo: "Oh! I'm so glad you asked, she's-"

Chigiri: "nice!"

Reo: "and she's!-"

Nagi: "good at singing."

Nagi's not on social media much, so once, he accidentally mentioned that you were with Reo after your soft launch post and went, "Oh, forget I said that." "we know already." "oh ok, they're cheesy."

When MICHAEL KAISER posts updates, it's usually about training for his upcoming game or sometimes the new luxury watch he bought spontaneously. This time, however, fans are bewildered, to say the least. It's a single photo - one taken at a low angle. He has a woman on his lap, the mermaid trail of her steel blue dress drapes down to the floor and covers one of his dress shoes. The dramatic slit on the flowy dress is pulled up to your thigh by Kaiser's hand, preventing it from falling and revealing what's meant for his eyes only. His other hand, meanwhile, is on her shoulder. That smug, signature grin is plastered on his face, but the upper half is cut off in the photo. The mystery girl faces Kaiser, at an angle where you could only see the pearl earrings that tie the whole outfit together. "Post it," that's what he told you that night when you were showing him the pictures you took in front of the full-body mirror at the lobby, all with his hands nestled comfortably in his pockets and a casual smirk. He would laugh as you mentioned the chaos it would cause and all of the hassle that comes afterwards, "so what? Just do it, Meine Liebe." and look what happened when you decided to listen. kai.serimp 'got a lot on my hands'

"this is wild" "who tf is yn and why are so many people talking about her" "emperor x empress"

I think he's the type that prefers being indoors for dates, especially since both of you are famous figures (The risk of being spotted in public and the hassle it would bring is something he does not want to deal with, especially when all he wants is to have some time with his girl)

Movie nights, dinner dates at home, baking together, reading dates, he's all for it

He'll buy you something special every now and then, but I think he's more of a 'gestures' person than giving gifts

He'd attend your bigger concerts, but I don't think he would attend every single one since he doesn't expect you to attend every single game he plays - you both have your own lives and you both are busy people 🤷‍♀️

Forget about reporters asking whether he's dating someone, this guy looks like a womanizer

The moment you both confirm it on camera that you're dating, he becomes the MOST dramatic kisser, holds your lower back and waist while leaning forward so you have to wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling - like we get it, you're proud (He does it once or twice on camera then stops unless you ask)

I think he'd prefer to keep most of his love life private, but he's cool with posting your anniversaries, birthdays, etc.

Kaiser probably isn't a big fan of the girl-crush concept as the relationship marinates, especially if the whole 'cutesy' act isn't you (lowkey thinks it's funny people still buy your whole 'aegyo' act and probably jokes about off-stage when it's just the two of you, I guess it's good that not many know you like he does)

Lowkey... I bet he compares how much yall make on each gig (definitely gets a free ego boost if he makes more than you)

I think the gameshow idols have to go to would be a good source of entertainment for Kaiser, 100% enjoys seeing you win in the strangest of games

"That's my girl," or something of the sort

It's a simple photo, really. You didn't mean to start such an outrage with a Polaroid. It was a picture of you and RIN ITOSHI in a photo booth. You can still remember what happened that day. 3... and he had one hand cupping your face, thumb and index digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks. You were puzzled, to say the least, but your instincts kicked in and you flashed a bright smile to the camera. 2... craning your neck up, you could see what seemed to be a semblance of a smile from your peripheral vision. He leaned down slowly as you babbled on about how "the photo's gonna be taken!' and "Rin, not now!"... despite all the times he told you not to shout out his name in public. 1! You could barely make a straight face and you internally thanked all of the lessons your manager would make you attend to instil that 'effortlessly photogenic' face you put on the moment the camera flashes. Yet, even with all your training, the blurry photo can't mask the heart in your eyes and the red in your cheeks. And the photo gets printed out. "Wanna post it?" You grin at him and he shrugs at you - 'I don't care', or something along those lines. You grab your lipstick, applying a fresh coat before pressing a kiss onto the polaroid - to half-heartedly cover his face. yn-archives 'dear diary, i met a boy."

"MISS YN???" "did I just lose my chance to a soccer boy" "soccer boy? mf that's RIN ITOSHI"

You all kept it under wraps quite well!! No major signs

He's neutral about the girl-crush concept - thinks it's cute though. If you both met when yall were younger and still in school, I think he'd be especially fond of it

Now that the secret's out: when reporters ask, he'd sigh, look at you in the crowd for a split second/look at his phone if you're at home, then say yes blankly.

It's not that he's embarrassed by you or anything, but he's tired of the question and you'd probably be bombarded with the same treatment, "aren't you all here for the game/show?"

You know how idols live-stream sometimes? Once you all didn't need to hide your relationship, Rin would accidentally walk in to you live-streaming because - out of all the places you could have chosen - you decided to record in HIS APARTMENT.

"Do you wanna watch a-" sees camera, face drops even more, "ok," and he slams the door

That was the last time you streamed at his house

He'd like 'lazy day' dates too, definitely a fan of staying at home and just melting in each other's presence

Despite saying that he didn't care whether you posted him or not, he doesn't exactly enjoy the newfound attention on your relationship - it irked him for a bit, but he got over it

He's definitely an aftercare kinda guy, disciplined and sticks to his routine almost religiously - he doesn't outright say it, but he likes it when you join him to stretch or cool down. It's a moment of peace for him and being with his favourite person only leaves a sweeter taste on his tongue

He'd be amused if your group did a Japanese cover or a Japanese song (like Twice's doughtnut, etc.), he'd be a big fan of that

If your group decides to try their hand at mature concepts, oooo boy, you're in for a ride... "you're allowed to do that on camera? what the fuck?" (I think he'd be more accepting of it if he pretended it was just for his eyes)

Taglist: @dewwberry, @mikmwehehe

[cxrrodedcoffin]

｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ˚୨୧⋆｡

Cooper Abbott x Fem!Reader

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: You weren’t too keen on your new stepfather to start, but as he and your mother grew further apart, you found yourself pulled to him more and more, and when things reach a head, you become closer than ever before.

Word Count: 6k

A/N: if you have a good relationship with your mother congrats but i don’t so this one’s for me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: stepdad!cooper, age gap (reader is in their mid 20’s + cooper is mid 40’s), nondescript references to parental verbal & emotional abuse, virgin!reader, fem + afab reader, reader referred to as girl, perv!cooper, slight voyeurism, f masturbation, mention of m masturbation, dacryphilia, daddy kink, breeding kink, choking, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it always), penetrative sex, pet names (sweet girl, pretty girl, sweetheart, babydoll, baby), creampie, cheating, praise, hickeys, size kink if you squint, spit kink, degradation (whore), aftercare, mentions of murder

Rating: R, 18+

——

When your mother introduced you to her fiancé Cooper Abbott two years ago, you couldn’t stand him. He was shady, dipping out of the house at all hours of the night, and full of himself. He was confident, often to a borderline cocky level, and you wanted nothing to do with your new step father even after him and your mom tied the knot. His kids were sweet enough, but they were only over on the weekends and with their mother the rest of the week, not leaving much time to bond with your new step-siblings.

You avoided him as often as you could, picking up extra shifts to get yourself out of the house more often, dodging whatever awkward attempt at bonding he had in mind for you that particular day. It’s not that you thought he would make a bad father, he was great to his existing kids, but you didn’t feel like you needed a grown man to father you, having already been an adult yourself for a short while.

Cooper took to you right away, the urge that rose in his chest the first time he saw you frightening him. It wasn’t anything like the urge he felt when he was scoping out one of his kills, no, it was the polar opposite. He had this carnal desire to protect you, to keep you safe from all outside forces threatening your happiness. He knew you didn’t feel whole, could sense that there was something missing deep inside of you, that same something he was missing, a hole in his chest left there by the tumultuous relationship he shared with his mother. He wondered if he had been wrong about the woman he chose to marry, and as time would tell, he was correct.

As the months went on you slowly found yourself warming up to him more and more, almost startling yourself out of your chair one night when you realized you’d been absentmindedly smiling as he went on about the latest fire call his station had been on during family dinner.

That night, two weeks ago, when his foot brushed yours under the dining room table and instead of pulling away, you played footsie with him for the remainder of the meal, lingered in your mind, the faint knowing smile on his face between bites making you wonder if there was something more to it. You began to test the waters, leaving a pair of your panties in the washing machine so they’d end up in his next load of laundry to see if he’d return them or not, leaving your bedroom door cracked when you changed, “accidentally” leaving your vibrator on your bed when you knew he’d be coming down the hall to see it in passing.

He fell for every single one of your traps, lingering in the hallway to peer through the crack in your door, blood rushing to his dick at the sight of your bare breasts when you lifted your shirt over your head, the panties you’d left in the washer mysteriously never popping back up in your underwear drawer, your vibrator magically shifting positions every time you left it out.

It was mostly innocent at first, just a silly, taboo flirtation that gave the two of your lonely souls an entertaining game to play, but with your mom out of town for work, Cooper was ready to see if your little antics were really just a game.

He loved your mother, at least, he thought he did. After their wedding he began to see the sides of her that had tormented you most of your adolescence. Her controlling and narcissistic nature that she hid so well around strangers began to rear its ugly head the longer he was around, and he was just about at his limit. He’d never let your mother onto even an inkling of his dissatisfaction, an expert at keeping secrets and manipulating her into believing he was the happiest man alive, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

He became acutely aware of the way she treated you, and it stirred a rage inside of him that could only be quelled by his latest kill. He saw parts of himself in you, the part of himself that was once a scared young boy, facing all of the trauma his own mother inflicted upon him. He wanted nothing more than to protect you from her, to put his skills to use and butcher her the way he did the rest of his victims, but there were too many risk factors to consider. She was too close to him, too connected legally and socially, it would be traced back to him immediately, and he couldn’t risk going to prison and leaving you all alone in that trauma-ridden house.

-

“I’m going to the grocery store, I’ll be back in an hour.” Cooper called up from the bottom of the stairs, pausing for your acknowledgment. You shouted a short “Okay!” from your bedroom and waited until you heard the slam of the front door behind him.

You wanted nothing more than to feel his hands all over you, but you knew that couldn’t happen. Cooper was respectable, a family man by all accounts, you were sure he’d never betray your mother like that. But you wished he would every time he flexed his muscular arms while carrying groceries in from the car, every time the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and every time his hand brushed against your lower back when he walked past you.

You were hungry, needy in a way you were almost ashamed of, and you knew Cooper wasn’t satisfied either. You’d heard him panting and groaning by himself through your bedroom wall when he thought he was alone in the house one too many times for him to be getting any from your mother. Their bedroom being right next to yours left very little to the imagination and you hadn’t heard the bed creak in over a year.

Honestly, after all the shit she’d put you through, you weren’t sure if you could say you’d never betray her either. Your apathy toward her had grown stronger with every nasty word she’d sent your way and as you got older, you stopped letting yourself feel bad for holding it against her. No mother should speak to their child the way she spoke to you, and despite your compulsion to keep the peace as long as you lived under her roof, you didn’t care to protect her anymore.

Despite all of your desires, you resigned to lulling your urges every quiet moment you had alone with yourself, your trusty vibe in hand as you imagined Cooper on top of you, touching you in all of the right ways. Today was no different, your cunt already dripping from the image of Cooper walking down the hallway, toned torso dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist after his morning shower. When he said he’d be leaving, your stomach flipped at the opportunity to take care of your little problem, opening the drawer of your nightstand the moment you heard the door shut.

You quickly rid yourself of your clothing, shirt and shorts in a messy pile on your bedroom floor as you pushed your underwear down your legs, the fabric catching on your bedpost as you attempted to fling them to the floor. You propped yourself against your pillows, reaching underneath them to pull out the shirt you’d stolen out of Cooper’s dirty laundry and held it to your face, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cologne and natural musk as the soft fabric brushed against your nose.

You didn’t have time to savor the act this time, with only an hour to work with, each of your actions needed to have direct intention behind them. You pulled the shirt over your frame, the loose fabric grazing over your sensitive nipples, another surge of arousal pooling between your thighs. You pulled the toy out of your drawer, the sleek aluminum weighty in your hand as you guided it to your center, using the rounded edge of the silicon head to spread your arousal up to your clit before turning the suction onto its lowest setting.

The soft hum of the small toy filled the room, echoed by your uninhibited whimpers as you held the suction against your clit, each targeted pulse of air drawing a breathy moan from your heaving chest. You dropped your head to rest on your shoulder, taking in his scent from the shirt again as you tried your best to remember the way his hand felt on your lower back, to imagine how that feeling could translate to other parts of your body, firm pressure against your hips, your ribs, your breasts, your throat.

Your thighs began to tremble as your release drew impossibly close, your finger pressing the button on the toy to up the intensity and send you into a toe-curling orgasm. You cried out his name again and again, tears pricking in the corner of your eye as your hips bucked, dropping the toy from your sensitive cunt as the feeling of overstimulation started the set in.

“Fuck.”

The exasperated sigh and sound of rustled plastic hitting the floor quickly ripped you from your post-orgasm haze, eyes shooting open as you scrambled to pull your comforter over your body.

Cooper was pissed, but not for the reasons you thought. He was mad at himself for not being the one to make you come, for not reading into your signs enough to be the man you needed him to be and make the first move. He needed to be in control, and watching you do it all yourself, with only the thought of him there to help, made him sick to his stomach.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought you’d be out longer.” You tried your best to justify your actions but you knew it was useless, this looked bad, was bad, no matter what way you tried to spin it.

“I went to the corner store instead.” He cleared his throat and picked up the small plastic bag and bundle of fresh flowers off the floor, turning to walk out of the room. His footsteps down the hall reverberated so loud you wondered how you could’ve been so lost to not hear him walking toward your room earlier. You laid your head in your hands to sulk for a moment before pulling yourself together, figuring it better to be an adult about the situation than pouting like a child.

You walked to the bathroom down the hall, messy toy in hand and a look of shame on your face. There was no point in shutting the door, Cooper had already seen your vibrator doing exactly what it was made for, a glimpse of you washing it in the sink wouldn’t kill him. The water ran hot and you got to work, thoroughly rinsing the soap suds off when you felt hands on your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt, or rather, Cooper’s shirt.

You looked into the mirror, his brown eyes meeting yours in the reflection. “I’ve been looking for this.” He started to lift the fabric, exposing your stomach before quickly dropping it and taking a step back. Your face dropped in disappointment, wishing he’d have taken what was his.

Cooper wasn’t exactly a particularly moral person, but nevertheless he didn’t feel great about your age gap or the power imbalance involved with being your stepfather. He couldn’t let himself do anything without your express permission, not when there was so much risk involved.

“You can touch me, if you want to.” You spoke softly, avoiding eye contact while turning the tap off and reaching for a clean towel to set your vibrator on to dry. Cooper didn’t hesitate, his hands returning to their place on your hips before slipping under his shirt, rubbing over the curve of your waist and taking in how soft your delicate skin felt against his palms. Your eyes fluttered shut, reveling in the feeling of his large hands on you like you’d fantasized about countless times before.

“Look at me, pretty girl.” He gave a soft squeeze to your sides, waiting for your eyes to meet his in the mirror, a warm smile greeting you when you finally did.

“What are you thinking about?” He questioned, continuing to run his fingers up and down your waist. Your breath hitched just slightly, trying to put your months of built up fantasies into words and failing miserably.

“You, I want you.” You breathed out, too shy to say the things you really wanted to. He saw the way you shifted on your heels, trying to close the gap between his chest and your back. He looked so beautifully intimidating like this, tall stature looming over yours like an animal stalking its prey, the lion and the lamb. He took the hem of the shirt in his grip and slowly raised it over your head, never breaking eye contact.

The sight of your bare breasts made him groan almost animalistically, ready to devour you. It’d been so long since he’d been with a woman so supple, your body an apple ripe for the picking.

“Where, sweetheart?” His lips met your temple, placing a chaste kiss before making his way down your neck, lips ghosting over your sensitive skin, eyes still locked with yours all the while. He sucked and nipped at your skin, leaving a trail of blooming bruises in his wake. You watched him, entranced by how expertly he mapped your pulsepoint, your hand moving to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly and whimpering when his teeth grazed the sensitive spot just below your ear. You were so lost in him you weren't sure what way was up or down, let alone what he had just asked you.

“You make the sweetest sounds babydoll, can you use that pretty voice to tell me where you want me to fuck you? I’d gladly bend you over this countertop, or carry you to my bed, I just want your first time to be comfortable.” The tail end of his statement had your eyes widening like a deer in headlights, feeling like your deepest secret had just been exposed to the world.

“H-how did you know?” Your voice was shaky, unsure of yourself as you wondered if your virgin status was really that painfully obvious to others.

“I heard you the other night, on the phone with your friend.” He was so nonchalant, as if it was the most normal conversation in the world to be having with your stepfather. Your body relaxed slightly, releasing tension you didn’t even know you were holding.

“My bed please, I don’t want to think about my mother while we do this.” You held your fingers in your opposite hand, nervously fidgeting with your digits as you dropped your head, staring at the sink. You knew you didn’t have an obligation to feel bad for her, but guilt panned in your chest nonetheless. Cooper’s hand found your chin, lifting your gaze back to his. You were too good for her, too good for him if he was being honest with himself, but you made him want to be a better person for your sake, and he wanted nothing more than to help you lose that unnecessary guilt he knew you were carrying.

“Trust me sweetheart, I’ll make you feel so good you’ll forget all about her, want her to be the furthest thing from either of our minds.” His voice soothed you the way your favorite songs do, and a heat rose over your cheeks thinking about all the ways he could do that.

You almost had the wind knocked out of you when he took you by the waist and perfectly executed an over the shoulder carry, playfully slapping your ass before making his way down the hall to your bedroom. You let a moan slip, and you would’ve been embarrassed if it hadn’t been for the way his shoulder tensed underneath your stomach in response.

“You like when I manhandle you?” Cooper teased, carefully tossing you down onto your plush bedding. You nodded, rubbing your thighs together as his gaze drifted over your body, sizing up his prey. You relaxed against your pillows, the stuffed animals either side of your head framing your innocence like a halo. Cooper began to undress, watching the way your features became more reactive with every article of clothing he removed, until he was in nothing but his boxers. You gulped, seeing the outline of his member through the thin fabric and growing nervous, trying to imagine how he would fit inside you.

When he finally slid his underwear off, your lips parted in a soft gasp, mesmerized by the blush pink hue of his leaking tip, your eyes following the length of the prominent vein on the right side of his shaft. He was thick, intimidatingly so, and your mouth started to water thinking of how small your hand would look wrapped around it. Before you knew it you were on your hands and knees, crawling to the end of the bed and looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Can I try?” You asked, voice too innocent for Cooper to take.

“Only if you really want to, honey.” He smiled down at you, caressing your cheek. You nodded eagerly, returning the smile as you repositioned yourself, bent forward to lean on your elbows and knees, his cock right at your eye line. You brought your hand to his length, just holding the weight of it in your hand for a moment, looking it over to properly memorize it. Cooper found it easy to be patient with you despite the way his body was begging for you to do more, finding your curious nature incredibly endearing. Opening your mouth hesitantly, you began by kitten licking the tip, the salty taste of his precum lingering on your tongue. You didn’t know what you expected, but whatever it was, this was better. You swirled your tongue around his head, exploring the contours of the taut skin before taking him into your mouth, feeling the way he twitched ever so slightly in response to the warm heat. Cooper groaned, his hand making its way to the back of your head, not pushing but guiding your shallowly bobbing head.

You worked your way further down his length, slowly feeling your throat adjust to the intrusion with every gag it gave, your mouth dripping with saliva. Cooper nearly lost it when you experimentally hollowed your cheeks, the added pressure of your suction drawing your name from his lips. He began to shallowly thrust, making you gag even harder as you took in two thirds of his shaft, tears welling in your eyes. You did your best to adjust, but it was no use, your throat unable to adjust to the depth he held you at. Your tears broke your waterline, leaving grey mascara streaks in their wake and you knew you must look a mess. Your shallow breaths were growing harder to take, but you wanted to keep going, you needed to make him come.

Your throat spasming around him felt incredible, and it took everything in Cooper to stop himself from forcing you to take him the rest of the way until your nose hit his stomach. He knew he’d get you there eventually, but that wasn’t the goal today. The image of your beautiful face, all smeared with messy makeup and covered in spit was something he never wanted to forget, taking a mental image as an effigy of your transformation into his perfect little slut. He needed to taste you, to know how sweet an angel like you must be. He gripped your hair, gently easing his cock from your throat, a thick string of saliva stretching across the empty divide between his tip and your lips. You panted, sitting back on your heels and catching your breath as you looked up at him, a small seed of worry planting itself in your mind. Cooper could see it, that light in your eyes dimming ever so slightly.

“What’s the matter baby?” He was genuinely concerned, worried that he’d gone too hard on you.

“It’s nothing, I’m just, I-I don’t know how it’s gonna fit.” You stumbled over your words, embarrassed by your confession. Of course you knew scientifically how it would, vaginas can stretch enough to push a baby out, of course it could stretch to fit a penis. But after seeing one in person, having him in your mouth and not being able to take it all in, and thinking back to how you could barely fit two of your own fingers inside yourself, the rational part of your brain had long since resigned itself from this topic.

“I promise it will, I know just how to get you ready so it only hurts a little, okay?” He leaned down, inches from your face, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before pulling you into a kiss, his tongue pinning yours down in a subtle show of dominance before pulling away, just admiring you for a moment.

“You are so beautiful.” He sighed, cupping your face in his hands, calloused thumbs wiping away your tear stains. Your cheeks grew hot again, never knowing how to take a compliment but appreciating his praise beyond words, especially with how messy you’d gotten.

“Lay back for me, sweet girl.” He kissed you on the top of your head, gently nudging your shoulder and you followed his instruction, returning to your previous position against your pillows. He took your ankles in hip grip, spreading your legs to situate himself on his stomach between them, his face inches from your now impossibly wet cunt. He looked up at you, locking eyes before flattening his tongue against your hole and licking a flat strike through your folds up to your swollen clit, eliciting a gentle whimper from your trembling lips.

“Never had a girl as sweet as you before.” Cooper praised, and he wasn’t exaggerating. He couldn’t get enough of the savory sweet mix of your arousal, so intoxicating he thought he might get drunk off of it. The compliment made you want to hide, your thighs attempting to close out of instinct. His strong hands ruined their plight, forcing them to stay spread and using his thick forearms to anchor you to the bed. He dove back in, practically muzzling himself with your cunt, lapping hungrily at your weeping entrance. Your hands clutched desperately at your floral sheets, looking for anything to cling to, too scared to hurt him with your iron grip.

His motions moved upward, plush lips framing your clit before swiping quickly over the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue. You cried out, chest rising off of the bed momentarily as your body fought to process all of the new sensations it was experiencing. Cooper hummed against you, his eyes gazing over your mound to watch the way you reacted to the vibrations the action sent through you. You were a moaning mess, all whiney pleases and breathy cries, wriggling against him. When he pulled away moments later, you groaned in frustration.

“Patience, babydoll, I’m going to start stretching this little pussy out to get her prepared for me.” He slapped your inner thigh, returning back to your clit as his fingers traced the tight muscles around your entrance. When you were properly worked up again, lost in the feeling of his tongue on your clit, he inserted his middle finger, your wetness allowing it to glide in with ease. He curled it inside of you, rubbing along the contours of your warm, velvety walls. You whimpered at the feeling, bucking into his palm to encourage him to add another. He did so, his pointer joining with slight resistance, the size of his fingers providing more stimulation than your own ever could. He pumped them in and out in tandem with the rhythm of his tongue, feeling your tightness ease up around him the longer he repeated his movements. You could feel a pressure building in the pit of your stomach, one slightly different than what you were used to.

“More, please.” You moaned, bucking your hips once more, causing Cooper to smile against you. He did as you asked, his index finger joining the other two inch by inch, your muscles stretching slowly until he was up to his knuckles inside of you. He held the digits still for a moment, waiting to be sure you were ready before pulling out and thrusting them back in, curling them to hit the spongy patch that his fingers could only just reach. You felt like you were hurtling toward the edge of a cliff, moments away from losing all control when he began sucking on your clit, the added pressure causing your vision to go blurry.

“Daddy!” You cried out, back arching and thighs clamping around his head and fingers clutched so tightly you thought your sheets might rip in your grasp. Cooper slowed his actions, working you through every wave of your orgasm until you relaxed into the mattress, releasing him from between your thighs. When your mind finally cleared you realized what you had done, frantically sitting up to look at him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from, I just got so overwhelmed, I-I wasn’t thinking.” You rambled on, overexplaining in hopes that he wouldn’t be disgusted with you.

“Oh sweetheart, it’s more than okay. You want me to be your daddy? Gonna let Daddy take care of you?” His full lips and stubble both glistened with your slick, and you almost wished you could take a photo to capture the look in his eyes. He pushed himself up by his forearms, crawling up to hover over you and tilting his head as if waiting for a response, until you realized what he wanted.

“Yes, Daddy.” You looked up at him, big doe eyes still glazed over from your afterglow, and something shifted in Cooper. The urge was back, something primal in him that needed to be as close as possible, to not only be inside you, but to own you. He hung his head, fighting back against it.

“I’ll be right back, I need to get a condom.” He sighed, prioritizing your comfort over his desires, or so he thought.

“Cooper, wait, do we have to use one?” You grabbed his arm to stop him from getting out of bed, and his eyes lit up at your words.

“You don’t want to?” He questioned, a bit caught off guard.

“I want to feel all of you, I don’t care if I might get pregnant.” Your eyes darkened and he swore he saw something more behind your eyes, like you weren't letting him in on a dark secret, but he thought better than to push it.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He let out a slight laugh, shaking his head before grabbing one of your pillows and asking you to lift your hips, placing it under your ass. The added cushion had you more relaxed, your nerves about his size starting to dissipate. He hooked his hands behind your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest to give him a full view of your pussy, ready and waiting for him. He lined up his hips with yours, his cock laying against the apex of your thigh.

“Are you ready, sweet girl?” His voice was soft, strained slightly with pent up desire but holding nothing but love otherwise. You nodded, an eager “Yes.” pulled from your now-sore throat. He looked into your eyes, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it through your folds to properly coat it in your slick, taking a few seconds to slap the head against your clit just to hear a couple more of those pretty little whimpers he loved so much before having to see you in pain. He lined up his tip with your entrance, pressing into you at an almost agonizingly slow pace, pausing when he saw you grimace in pain.

“I know sweetheart, but it’s just one big stretch then it’ll feel good, I know you can do it.” He soothed, his hand finding yours to intertwine your fingers. You nodded, your free hand moving to rest on the back of his neck and pull him down into a kiss. He continued to push forward inch by inch, swallowing your winces and whines until he was finally seated fully inside of you, stalling his hips to allow your tight walls to adjust around him. He pulled away from the kiss when your sighs of pain subsided, squeezing your hand.

“Move, please.” You gave him the go ahead, and he wasted no time, pulling out carefully before thrusting slowly back in, your mouth dropping in a gasp at the new sensation, a burn so good you didn’t know whether to moan or cry. The more he repeated the action, the louder you became, all semblance of pain turning into a pleasure you’d never felt before, feeling like he was made to fill the emptiness inside of you.

“God, you’re so tight babydoll, taking me so well.” His praise had you on cloud 9, but his gentle pace was only doing so much and it was starting to feel like you had an itch you couldn’t scratch.

“Harder.” You moaned, voice tinged with frustration by the teetering level of stimulation.

“Only if you ask nicely.” He retorted, slightly taken aback by your demanding tone.

“Please fuck me harder Daddy, I need it.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, still glistening with tears from earlier and he melted, content to answer your prayers. He dropped your hand, bringing his grip to your neck to apply firm pressure to the sides of your neck, careful not to press against your windpipe as he slammed his hips against yours, the slapping of skin and both of your moans filling the room.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” That cocky confidence that you had once hated was starting to come out, but this time, it made you clamp down around him. You nodded as best you could, starting to lose your focus as your mind went blank, your orgasm building quickly. Cooper saw the way your eyes glazed over and groaned, knowing he finally had you just the way he wanted you.

“Open.” His hand gripped your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth into an ‘O’ shape, your tongue instinctually lulling out of your mouth. Before you could blink his spit had landed on your tongue, slipping to the back of your mouth until you swallowed it with a needy moan. You kept your mouth open and Cooper repeated the action, watching as a drop of it dribbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“Only your first time and you're already such a whore.” He laughed, his hand returning to your throat. His other made its way into the tight space between your bodies, rubbing firm circles over your sensitive bundle and nerves, your hips rocking to meet his thrusts.

“Only for you.” You were so close, and you knew he was too, the way his moans were becoming more desperate, his brows furrowed underneath the strands of hair that had fallen in his face, and the feeling of his cock twitching with every thrust.

“You’re mine, gonna keep you forever, sweet girl.” His words made your head spin, and as he hit the soft spot inside of you one final time, you were gone, hearing gone fuzzy and stars erupting behind your eyes, all coherent thoughts gone from your mind, too overwhelmed with euphoria. Cooper didn’t slow down in the slightest, racing toward his own orgasm at an unstoppable pace. Your sensitivity was at an all time high, walls fluttering around him at an unwavering pace, the pressure against your clit making you want to cry as it almost crossed into pain territory, until it morphed into another growing orgasm.

“Come on babydoll, give me one more.” He encouraged, his torso pushing down against yours in almost a full mating press, more skin on skin contact than you’d had in your entire life.

“God, Cooper, please, need you to put a baby in me.” You didn’t care what he thought anymore, too close to your third orgasm of the night to give a single thought into what his potential judgments would be.

“Whatever you want, filthy girl.” He gave one final slamming thrust inside of you, his thumb swiping quickly over your clit to drag you over the edge with him, thick ropes of cum coating your contracting walls. You were both beyond spent, his dead weight on top of you oddly comforting until your legs started to cramp. He eased out of you, the empty feeling pulling an involuntary wince. He laid next to you, his arm snaking beneath your waist to pull you flush against him. He kissed the top of your head, letting you rest for a moment before helping you sit up.

“You should pee, I don’t want you getting a uti.” He helped you up onto shaky legs, holding your waist as you walked down the hallway together, each step you took feeling like a fawn learning to use its limbs for the first time.

You did as you were told, sitting in silence as he wet a washcloth in the sink next to you.

“What did you go to the store for, anyway?” You asked, genuinely curious but also trying to fill the silence.

“The flowers, I wanted to surprise you, after the comment you made the other day at the farmer’s market.” You recalled a compliment you’d paid one of the flower vendors that day, after your mother had made an offhand one to them about how wilted their stock was. You’d done that a lot throughout your life, it was just second nature at this point, trying your best to leave a trail of positivity behind your mother’s constant criticism.

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to.” You looked down at your hands to hide your embarrassment.

“Look at me.” His voice was firm but caring, and when you looked up, you realized he was right beside you. He held your chin with one hand and used the other to wipe the damp washcloth over your cheeks, washing the faded mascara off of your skin.

“I wanted to. I think everything we just did is pretty decent proof that I care about you, sweetheart. Don’t ever doubt my motivations.” He wiped the last of your makeup off, cleaned himself up and let you finish before washing your hands and spending the rest of the evening together in your bed, snuggled up and discussing all the things you could do with the remaining days until your mother returned home and you had to actually deal with the complicated nature of what all of this meant for the two of you.

—

tagging some angel moots: @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @hereforthehitsbaby

please comment or message me if you’d like to be added to my cooper abbott taglist <3

[creelkobblelaufeyson69]

Three times

Warnings: smut (cause I’ve got daddy issues)

Note: this is consensual, don’t worry!

She was waiting for family to return to their big house. She had found herself being the house sitter while her mom, dad, and brothers go out to eat. It was a new house as well, and she knew that this place was haunted before even finding out it could potentially be

A nice house like this suddenly on the market? That seemed way too good to be true. She was happy though that she was only helping her family move into the place, and could leave soon. She didn’t have a good relationship with her parents, but what lured her into helping was how it gave off a feeling to her that she couldn’t describe

She’s been wanting to go into the attic since she’s arrived as well. She hadn’t had a clue what could be drawing her attention like this, but she didn’t want to find out. She thought it would be a safer option to stay away from the attic

Adam and Barbara didn’t want to scare her off already, because she seemed much more chill than her family members. But they also didn’t want to scare the young boys. Barbara didn’t think summoning Beetlejuice was a good idea either for this job

But luckily for the couple, Beetlejuice has other plans. He’s seen what the eldest daughter looked like, and has definitely taken a liking in her. He knew he didn’t have much time to be alone with her in the house either. He was determined to get her up in the attic as well, so he just waits in the model for her to come in

It was getting later in the afternoon, and her family still hadn’t returned yet. At this point out of pure boredom and curiosity, she finally goes upstairs. Once she reaches the attic door, she takes out the key that opens any door in the house that was meant to be given to her father

But she couldn’t see herself letting the keys go. She easily unlocked the attic door, because Adam and Barbra were currently talking to Juno. Beetlejuice had noticed she was inside of the attic now, and smirks

“Hey, over here!” He calls her over, which makes her look directly at him. She crouches down to be at his level, which makes him feel a certain way. Whatever strong connection she felt was definitely present, and now she’s realizing it’s him who she was having a strong connection to

“My, you’re a handsome little fella” she says confidently, which makes him smirk. “I can grow bigger if you’d want me too. You just gotta say my name three times” he flirts, which makes her blush

“I’ve never had sex with a dead person before” she admits, which makes him smirk. “Well there’s a first time for everything, right?” She nods her head, and then asked what his name was. Soon a sign shows up pointing towards his head with his name on it three times

“Beetlejuice” she starts, which makes him continue to smirk. “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice” he had vanished from the model of the town. She looks confused, until she heard a record playing in the background. She follows where the music lead her to, and found herself in the guest bedroom she’s currently staying in

When she enters, the bed had dead rose petals around it. A sexual song played on the record, and the lights were off. But Beetlejuice wasn’t in the room. Confused by the random disappearance, she was about to leave until the door slams shut on her

“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve fucked someone who’s living” he says out of nowhere, which makes her look at him. He was lying naked on the guest bed, which took her by surprise. “And fallen for someone who’s alive as well” she walks over towards her bed, with every intent of letting him claim her

Her clothes come off of her now, and she now laid underneath him. He kisses her on her lips, which makes her return the kiss. His hand goes down to her pussy, and he felt how wet she was for him. He pulls apart now, and grins. “You’re all wet for a dead guy. How exotic” he says as he places his hand back onto the comforter

Without any more waiting, he goes into her. Her hands intertwined with his as her head arches back. A moan left her now as he begins to thrust at an abnormal speed. The bed was squeaking as his lips attack her neck with hickeys

“Bee” she moans out, which makes him amused by the nickname given to him. He moans loudly, which made her happy that she was the only one in the house. She came all over him, without any warning. He stops, and pulls out of her

She was tired already, but he had just gotten started. He lowers himself to be facing her pussy now, and begins to lick her. Her legs comfortably wrapped around him as his tongue begins to vibrate against her

She was shocked by the action, but then remembered she was being fucked by a ghost. He continues to lick her with his tongue vibrating, which drove her to her second orgasm. Satisfied with her coming a second time, he stops

She now didn’t care that she was sleepy, and needed more pleasure now. He comes back to laying on top of her, and makes her look at him now. “I’m gonna fuck you harder this time, okay?” She simply nods her head, and soon he was back in her

His thrusting the same pace, but his cock was vibrating this time. She came already with moaning the nickname she had given him, which makes him also let himself come this time. She had to wait a while before he came in her. He gets out of her, and laid down next to her

Unaware how much time had passed, her thoughts were on her family. His thoughts were on how wonderful that experience was, and wished she could stay longer. But then a brilliant idea came to his head if he wanted to leave the afterlife

Clothes appeared on him, and now he’s standing. Her attention was definitely on him now. She sits up to see where this was going. “I need to tell you something very important” he started, which makes them slightly nervous about where this was going

“I-“ the phone goes off in the background, which throws her off guard. Clothes reappeared onto her as she stands up. “Just one second” she goes downstairs, with him following along. When she got to the phone, she picks it up from its holder and places it close to her ear

She wasn’t expecting a phone call, or a phone call to inform her that her family was dead. She went as pale as he was, and felt like fainting. The cause of death was unknown, but now this place had no owner again. She placed the phone back to end the call. “What were you gonna say, Bee?” She asked as tears came rolling down her cheeks

“Well it depends, what just happened?” She explained to him what had happened. A twinge of guilt sneaks into him, but he needed to leave the afterlife somehow. “I need to get married to leave the afterlife” he said casually after what she told him. She thought that was an excellent way to get her mind off of the horrid news

She smiles as tears continue to leave her eyes. He seemed shocked by her reaction, but smiles as well. “Let’s get married then” she says as she now wipes her tears away. Before anything actually happened, Adam and Barbra stood there in shock. She looks at the couple, and so does Beetlejuice

“Oh hello! You two must be the couple that died here originally” she says, which makes the couple more shocked. “Jeez, you guys act like news doesn’t eventually spread. Especially with something so tragic” then she was reminded about her family members that she lost

She was all alone. She also barely knew Beetlejuice to be considering him apart of this. This marriage thing was clearly just a way to make the two happy in two drastic different ways. Perhaps this is why the strong connection still exists between the two

But even Adam and Barbra feel differently now with the two standing next to each other. “There’s some weird connection here with us” Barbara says, instead of bringing up the marriage that’s gonna happen. She finds herself blush at that, but didn’t even understand this feeling either

This is what made her scared to go to the attic originally, because she knew about the couple being in the house, but no other entity. She thought it was gonna be some awful demon, just waiting in their to take her soul

Her thoughts also keep lingering onto her dead family members. ‘What had happened?’ She wondered. “Oh, that’s just coming from us” Beetlejuice casually says, but she was too focused on this strange mystery of her family. “Ghosts can do that? Even if you haven’t met the person yet?” Adam asks Beetlejuice

“I guess so. Not sure, since you know me pal: I don’t play by the rules of the afterlife. I mean what’s the point? I’m dead for fuck sakes! I shouldn’t have to worry about doing more work in the afterlife as well” Beetlejuice says as his attention goes onto his soon to be wife

He saw the color drain out of her; the likeness of her passing out. Beetlejuice gets her seated onto the couch, which took Adam and Barbra by surprise that he was capable of doing such a nice deed. Sure it was a small thing, but it was a big deal

She started to cry into his shoulder was the two were stated. Adam and Barbara were confused, and worried for her. Beetlejuice looks at the couple, and told the two to fuck off. The couple listens, since the two didn’t want to intrude on anything personal

Beetlejuice seemed to be all the sudden great at comforting people, and was quite surprised by the words coming out of his mouth. “You’ll probably see them again. And they’ll definitely look for you, because not all of us are locked up in one location” she sniffles, and then raises her head to make eye contact with him

She smiles again, and thanked him. The clock struck midnight, and the two had gotten married. After the first kiss, she goes in for seconds. He’s alive, which makes her pull apart. She admires him, and adores his dark blue eyes

“You’re gorgeous Bee” she admits as she continues to admire him. “Thank you” he says as he smiles. A year had passed, and she hadn’t seen him since still being in the house and after her family’s funeral. The two parted ways because he wanted to figure out the world himself

She thought about him everyday, and kept the wedding ring on her finger. She wondered if he kept his on as well, but she had doubts that he would keep his ring on. A new neighbor had just moved in next door. She planned on saying hello to the new neighbor to be on good terms day one

She currently sat on her couch, and was watching something random on the television. A knock on her door makes her get up from her couch. She opens the door to see Beetlejuice. Shocked, she just stood there until one of them said something

He was also stunned to see her face again. He took notice that she still wore her wedding ring. She checked to see if he kept his on, and noticed it was still on. Tears left her eyes as he instinctively kissed her on the lips. She returned the kiss, and soon the door was shut and she was pinned to the wall

Beetlejuice had missed her, and couldn’t stop thinking about her since they parted ways. Even with all the women hitting on him, his heart happily belonged to her

Tags: @stardancerluv

[ktsumu]

FIFTH TIME’S A CHARM

cw: suggestive content, nudity happy valentine's day ᡣ𐭩

This year, for the first time ever, Tooru doesn’t buy flowers for his valentine. You are the only witness to the crime.

His first girlfriend, back in junior high, got roses. She got him roses, too, with a chocolate bar he ended up giving to his sweet tooth sister. They were real, shockingly, smelt good too.

They were discounted, and it’s a basic gift, but he was twelve and had only been seeing her for three weeks.

(And they broke up two weeks later, so he has no regrets about the roses that cost his mom less than fifteen bucks.)

The second girlfriend was a little more serious.

Tooru thinks he might’ve been fourteen for that one. He liked her—she was kind, pretty, had a nice laugh. He remembers holding hands in the hallway at school and their first kiss (well, peck) was surrounded by a bunch of classmates, screaming like it mattered more to them than it did to him.

He forgets how long they lasted, but he’s sure they started dating in November and made it to Valentine’s Day. He bought her tulips, her favourite, and a stuffed bear, because it was right beside it in the store. With his own money, too. 

His second girlfriend—he really, really feels bad about not knowing her name anymore—got him chocolate. He gave it to his sister again, but he kept the card she wrote him, saying she loved him three months in like either of them knew what that meant.

And to be fair, he said he loved her, too. Just not to her face. Many, many times to Hajime, though.

Tooru and Girlfriend #2 broke up in May. He wasn’t even planning on it, either. She just moved to a different country and he wasn’t looking for a penpal, and she said she didn’t wanna cheat on him.

The third girlfriend is where his small list gets serious.

He gave romance a break after the one that got away. He just flirted with people up until his first year of high school, the big leagues, which is when he actually got too much attention.

It’s a huge deal when you’re sixteen and your girlfriend is seventeen. He was crowned royalty of his class, the chosen one. The only one that could possibly score an older girl and act like it’s no big deal, and then proceed to blow her off to watch a game taping or something. On top of the world, and yet so below the standard.

She was pretty good to him. Makki always said he was a moron and she was gonna dump his ass, and Tooru probably knew that, too. Hajime said he was wasting his time, and every time he’d deny it, he’d think about how right he was.

He and the third girlfriend—Hana, he remembers—had one Valentine’s Day together, but it was so close to two that he almost wants to count it as such for the hell of it.

He got her wildflowers because she always said she hated roses and tulips. Basic flowers mean they don’t care, or something like that. He didn’t understand it fully, but he was happy when she leapt into his arms, that was for sure. It felt pretty good when she kissed him stupid and said he was the best, but that high didn’t survive the Spring Tournament the next year. 

That’s how close he was to two Valentine’s Days—January. Fucking brutal.

She dumped him and he swore off girlfriends in senior year; probably even blamed it on something stupid like ‘bad omens.’ He graduated with D1 offers, though, so he counts it as a win.

That tallies up to three successful Valentine’s Days, so far right? Yeah, right—all with flowers. 

The fourth bouquet wasn’t a bouquet at all, it was actually orchids in a pot, left on the kitchen table of the apartment he lived in when he moved. He was twenty, her name was Riko, his first almost everything. First I love you, first time—name it, basically.

He did make it to two Valentine’s Days with Riko, which is something so impressive for him that confetti emojis were everywhere in the groupchat he kept with his friends from high school. Hearts, confetti, eggplants, whatever else.

The first one was admittedly better than the second, though. The second one, he got a really serious offer overseas, and he didn’t even ask about it. He just told her that he loved her, and that he’d be in Argentina by August.

(Safe to say that he was the only one packing for that.)

That was the last time he bought flowers on Valentine’s Day, because it was the last time he consciously celebrated with someone. He sent his friends funny clips or pictures just to tease, taunted them whenever they could keep a girlfriend to celebrate with, but he gave up himself.

(It’s just so much easier to relax—he’d have no problem getting a girlfriend if he wanted one. His issue is keeping them.)

He’s twenty-seven and solo.

Mostly solo, he should say. You come around a lot, stay the nights with him. You typically collect your clothes and leave the next morning with a wave and maybe a ‘text me if you wanna do this again Friday,’ but he hates how he’s lying when he grins and says he just might.

Tooru is so used to being the one to leave, or to sabotage himself until someone else does, that he’s forgotten that it actually sucks when you don’t wanna be left alone.

The whole point of you and him is to keep it casual, but Tooru can barely keep it cool.

He likes to consider himself experienced. It’s why he gets so fucked up when he kisses you for longer than he realizes, or how he finds himself holding back words he thinks might be too much for casual sex. 

You two are functional together, at least. He just puts the system at risk a lot.

When he wakes up today, February fourteenth, he doesn’t even know what day it is. He’s naked, in his own bed at the very least, and he can see his jeans on the floor through the light of the bathroom dripping through the door left open. Dawn peeks through the curtains.

The room is quiet, the window’s open so the birds can talk to him, and to his left, you’re still here. 

“Hey,” he says, yawning.

“Good morning,” you say back, a small smile on your face as you stretch. He can’t help but smile back, with his grin and smile lines, eyes drifting to the hem of the sheets that try and cover you up. Okay, naked too. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Woah.

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” he replies in a hurry, leaning up on his elbow as he grabs his phone. Yes, very much so.

You raise your brows. “What? Got a wife you forgot about?”

“Very funny.”

“I know, I’ve been waiting,” you say. It’s your turn to yawn now, moving to lay your head on his chest, hand pushing him back down into the bed. “What’s the panic, then?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. Just … forgot. It's weird.”

“Hm. So where are my roses, huh?”

Tooru scoffs, glancing down at you as he rests a hand on your waist. “They’re being delivered, obviously.”

“I figured.” You cock your head. “What’s up with Valentine’s Day, huh?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never not gotten flowers for someone when I’ve had them.”

“Are you talking about me?”

“What, I can’t get friendly flowers?” he asks, raised brows and attitude waking up with him. “You’re naked in my bed, that must constitute something.”

The way you pout your lip in thought makes him wanna reach out for your hand. Is it weird to do that? Can I do that? 

(You do it first, but he holds you tighter.)

“No, this is fine.”

“Fine?”

“Better,” you quickly correct. “I’d rather just stay in bed and say it once. I prefer acts of service, anyway.”

Looking at you, laying on his bare chest, the sun creeping in over yours, he doesn’t care all that much about how he’s breaking tradition anymore. Maybe it’s not even tradition, maybe it’s just a cycle he’s breaking; a vicious one, at that.

You’re an unconventional valentine in the sense that you’re not even his, but maybe when the day’s passed and he doesn’t feel it looming over him, he might bring it up again.

“Acts of service, you say?”

You snicker, being pushed onto your back as he looms over you. He’s looking at you like Cupid hit him; bullseye.

“You wouldn’t happen to know of those, would you?”

“Just tell me what you want, already. Let me make up for the flowers.”

You take him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to kiss you like he means it. Tooru speaks in tongues the two of you best understand.

For the first time in four official Valentine’s Days, Tooru doesn’t buy his valentine flowers. But, for the first time in four official Valentine’s Days, it feels so right that it doesn’t even matter he’s doing it ‘wrong.’

(Next time, when you’re hopefully here again, he doesn’t think he’ll get flowers, either. This'll do.)

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol. 

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name. 

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?” 

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.” 

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.” 

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly. 

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!” 

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?” 

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right. 

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath. 

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down. 

So, he doesn’t. 

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head. 

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.  

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door. 

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher. 

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely. 

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you. 

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck. 

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity. 

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st. 

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween. 

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today. 

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm. 

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container. 

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules. 

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago. 

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation. 

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing. 

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply. 

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone. 

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words. 

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did. 

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. 

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.” 

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

--

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[raineydays411]

My fathers daughter pt 12

It all comes out sometime

"Jay?" You ask.

"Yeah its me. How the fuck did you get access to the coms?" He asks amused at your actions.

"Trust me hacking this isn't any harder than hydra files" You say passively, " Anyways that's not important, I think I can help with this Joker thing."

"Wait? Really?" He ask seriously, "Y/n, listen carefully, I need you to go into Bruce's office and find the big ass clock --"

"Yeah I already found the secret hide out" You say annoyed, "Mommy dearest kicked me out before I could tell her how I could help."

Jason sighed, knowing that his mother probably tried to use her mom voice on you. " Yeah, she told us she didn't want you to be in the whole vigilante think."

The anger that was simmering under your skin came back, but before you let it get the best of you, you continued. Knowing that this information was more important than whatever mommy issues you had.

"Right, well that's not important." You say," Listen to me now."

"I'm listening." Jason grunted, sounding like was punching someone,

"Whatever chemical agent Jackass put in his venom is the exact same stuff that was used to brainwash the Winter Soldier" You say quickly.

"Kid, I wanna believe you but how do you know that? Tim was just able to get a sample and process it."

"Because, I was told that every antidote you use only makes the effects stronger right?"

"Right" He says strained

"In order to make sure that the Winter Soldier stayed the Winter Soldier and not Bucky, Hydra had to make sure his brain produced a certain amount of hormones. And that whatever anybody used, the effects couldn't reverse. Hence chemical X."

"Chemical X?"

"The name is to long for me to attempt to pronounce, anyways, lucky for us, my daddy just so happened to create a serum that undoes Chemical X. And if I check," You pause, taking over the computer downstairs, and checking the sample Tim had sent in, " The component is there."

"Well I'll be damned"

"Exactly. Now, I need you to find a lab or something. This serum was made with the intention of being made on the fly. So everything you need should be there." You say pulling up a map of Gotham general.

"Wait, I need to tell Bruce." Jason said, " Joker said he had the only antidote and he's fighting him right now"

"No thats not possible. The only ones who know about it is my father and I." You said worridly.

Meanwhile while you were upstair lending a helping hand, downstairs Christine and Alfred were panicking because they lost control of Jason's com and the main computer.

'Alfred I can't find him" Christinen cried, " How did he just disappear like that?

"I don't know miss, there's no possible way he could've."

"Wait." Christine says looking up to the screen, " Bruce and Tim are gone"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How did you get con-"

"It's not important" You say cutting Batman off, " Listen to me, Joker doesn't have the cure."

"How do you know that?" The dark knight asks skeptically

"Because, until my dad figured it out, there was no cure." You say impatiently, " This chemical wasn't intended to have a cure."

"But you figured it out?"

"YES" You shout frustrated at the constant repetition, " DO you want the step by step or do you want to save lives?"

"hm" Bruce grunted, " And you know how to make it?"

"I do." You say earnestly

There was a pause, you heard grunting and what sounded like fighting in the background.

On Bruce's side, he managed to get the Joker disarmed and tied up.

He searched him for what he claimed was the vial containing the cure. But upon finding it, the Joker decided to throw his head back connecting with Batman's face. The sudden impact caused him to drop the vial, shattering it on the linoleum floor. The liquid oozing out and burning a hole into the floor.

"Ooops" the Joker cackled, " Aww poor Batsy, I guess I may have told a little white lie"

As Bruce rose from the floor, Robin ran in holding another vial

"Batman, the antidote." He says with a stern look on his face.

The smug smile fell from the Jokers face as he looked at the preteen.

"Thats...that's not possible!" Joker cried out, " There is no cure. There was never a cure."

Batman looked Joker straight in the eye, " No Joker, it looks like you miscalculated."

And with that, a swift punch to the face knocked the Joker out. A breath of relief flowed from the Batfamily. Now they can focus on what really mattered, helping the infected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in your room you paced, after explaining how to make the cure, you hadn't hear back from the family. The anxiety you had building up in you made your heart feel as of it was going to explode.

"Y/n" Jasons voice came from your computer, " It worked."

You felt like crying, " Really? Are you for real?'

"No I'm lying and everyone died" Jason said sarcastically, " Yes I'm for real."

"Thank god" You said wetly

"Oh god are you crying?" Jason said uncomfortably

"No." and with that you disconnected, allowing access back to the main computer downstairs. After doing that you sat on your be, taking a couple deep breaths to calm yourself. But the tears kept flowing. You were so worried that you didn't get the information to Bruce on time. You were worried about the people that were exposed for too long. The ones that the antidote may not have worked on.

You may have been able to help a few but how many more could you have saved if you were listened to right away. The anger simmered back in your body.

You hated that Christine treated you as if you were a child. She completely disregarded what you had to say and took a shot at your father. At least he was smart enough to know that you were capable of more than just sitting and twiddle your thumbs.

You had half a mind to go down there and give her a piece of you mind. But before you could, a chime came from your phone

"Hey Starky! guess who's on the neighborhood <3"

Wade?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the Batman co. finally made it back to the cave they all were exhausted. Every single one of them wanted to get home and take a shower. Dick and Jason would be staying at the manor simply because they couldn't muster up the energy to make their respective journeys back home. Damian and Cass were knocked out in the back of the batmobile and even Bruce was having a hard time staying awake while driving.

Honestly, ever since his family was created, Bruce/Batman became less about vengeance and more about protecting the city that he and his family live and care about. And maybe, if there was anyway that he can help mend the relationship between your family and his, perhaps you can be a part of his team as well, as sad at it was to say your hacking skills were way above his and Tims.

Lost in thought, Bruce didn't realized that when he pulled in Christine was in borderline hysterics and Alfred looked a little more frazzled than usual.

"Oh! Bruce!", Christine cried throwing herself into the confused bat, " What happened?! Is everyone one okay?"

"Christine, darling what are you-" Bruce was puzzled, Christine always had somewhat of a flair for the dramatics but there should be no reason for her to be this worried, especially because she's able to see everything .

"I thought we lost you! All of you!" Christine cried, eyes welling up with tears," The coms cut our for what felt like hours and then the main computer crashed! Me and Alfred both were barely able to get it rebooted before you got here!"

"Wait, if the main computer crashed then how was Y/n able to talk to us through the coms?" Tim asked tiredly, only jolting awake when Jason harshly elbowed him, signaling him to shut up about your participation.

"What do you mean? Y/n has been in her room this whole time." Christine says with a look of confusion on her face.

The batfamily all looked at each other, silently daring each other to step up and tell the truth, and face the wrath of their mother. Even Bruce didn't want to rat you out, knowing where Christine stood on her thoughts of you being involved.

Now don't get the wrong idea, Christine is by definition an overprotective mother. Theres no doubt about that. But there is a reason as to why she wants you out of the hero life and spot life in general.

Firstly, you are Tony Stark's daughter. There is no getting around that. And being Tony Stark's daughter also means you're Iron Mans daughter. And that is the whole reason you are there in Gotham in the first place. Amidst all the familial drama, everybody seemed to forget that you are still being hunted by an anonymous group. But Christine hasn't. Every night she lies awake worried to death that that was the night they found you. That they would come for you.

Secondly, the villians that her husband and family deal with are...for lack of words psychoic. If they figured out that you, Iron mans daughter, was helping their enemy Batman there would be more people after you. And from what Christine has witnessed these people do, the horrors and atrocities they casually commit. That frightens her even more.

So, with that being said, the look on her families face and the circumstances that had just occurred, it wasn't hard for her to figure out the cause of their technical malfunctions. And what a coincidence that these malfunctions only happened after you were sent to your room.

"Bruce.", Christine said in a clam even tone, " What are you not telling me." She didn't ask she demanded.

"Darling." Bruce said in a pleading tone, " It was a long night for everybody, why don't we just discuss it in the morning"

"Discuss it in the morning?" Christine asked incredulously, " Discuss it in the morning?! Do you know how worried I was? How worried WE were" She gestures to herself and Alfred who looked mildly uncomfortable to be put in the argument, " We thought you were injured or worse DEAD!"

The kids tried to slowly back out, inching towards the elevator that you totally didn't know was there.

"Don't even think about it" Christine said without looking at them, " How dare you all? How dare you? I asked ALL of you for one simple thing. Just one. To keep her OUT of it."

"Christine that's hardly fair-" Bruce started to say before getting cut off.

"No! It is totally fair! There are PEOPLE after her. People who are still out there by the way! Tony and his team haven't been able to find them! They keep slipping away whenever they get close! They are out there, trying to get MY daughter, for god knows what!"

Bruce glances towards the staircase entrance but before he can say anything Christine goes on, " DO you understand how hard it has been to keep anything from this world from her!"

"Ma she grew up in this world, it's not fair to just cut her out" Jason cuts in, " She feels left out because we're all pretending like we aren't who we are and pretending as of we don't have The Tony Starks daughter in our house. She's not a civilian, she's in it."

"She is not just Tonys daughter she's mine too!" Christine shouts before tears start to drop from her eyes, " Shes MINE, she can't be taken from me."

In the batmobile, Cass buries her face into a sleeping Damians chest.

"Mom, do you think any of us would let that happen?" Dick finally speaks up, " I mean, come on have a little faith"

" I just wanted her to stay out of it, to get out for good."

" Darling, that girl was not made to stay out of things, look at whp her parents are," Bruce chuckled, " Besides, she's never going to come around if we don't fully open ourselves up to her as well."

"You have to admit Ma, fighting is the only way any of us bonded" Jason says, " Except me, she likes me."

"I don't know why " Dick says with a frown, still bitter at the fact that you had bonded with Jason before him.

Christine sniffled before saying, " I still need to go talk to her, the way she cut us off was unacceptable."

"But-" Tim finally spoke out but it was too late, Christine was already marching to the elevator, mind made up about scolding you for what she thought was a practical joke.

The rest of the team was left in the Bat cave shaking their heads at their mothers stubbornness.

Bruce's sighed and started to put things away, " There's going to be fight and I don't want to be in the middle of that."

The three awake boys nodded.

" Someone wake up Damian and Cass, they need to go to bed."

Jason and Dick pushed Tim forward, if there was one other thing they didn't want to get in the middle of, was those two and their sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back upstairs you were filled to the brim with anger. You had gone downstairs to greet the returning heroes and rub your success in Christines face, only to overhear what you had already confirmed.

Christine had been purposefully keeping things from you. Not only about Bruce being Batman ( Which you already knew), but about your situation.

See, when you had first moved to Gotham, you knew that there would be almost little to no contact with your family. The few times you were able to talk to someone from back home it wasn't even your parents. Something about phone lines being traceable and unreliable.

The only line of communication was given to you by Natasha before you left, a single flip burner phone that was only to be used for emergencies.

But Christine apparently was getting updates directly from your father. Updates you were sure were meant to be given to you. So not only had she had a hand in the intentional isolation of you from her family, she was trying to isolate you from yours as well.

It made you so angry! You already have sacrificed so much just to be here and you didn't even want to be there in the first place. You ripped open your laptop and went to do a little digging. Upon doing that, you found about a dozen of lengthy emails from your father describing in great lengths about your situation and details about life back home. These emails were obviously meant to be read by you and they all were marked as read and filed away. How they got to the Batcomputer was unknown to you but as you scanned each word tears welled up into your eyes, you father had not forgot about you.

You sat on the bed, taking deep breaths trying to calm down. You managed to restrain yourself and not blow up at that woman in front of her whole family and you really were trying to calm down so you can have a mature conversation about it.

You were trying.

but then, "Y/n Stark how dare you disobey your mother!"

What?

"What?" You say eyes ripping open and anger finally bubbling over

"How dare you! I asked you for one thing! All I wanted was to make sure my family would have been okay!"

"And are they dead?" You ask bluntly, " Is everyone who was infected dead?"

Christine turned red, " That is not the point young lady and I don't appreciate you talking about your family like that."

"They are NOT my family!" You shout, " You are not my family"

'Y/n" Christine start but now you were the one to cut her off

"NO, and since we are on the topic of not appreciating things lets talk about how I don't appreciate how you have been deliberately LYING to me."

"Excuse me?" Christine asks angrily, " I will have you know that I do not have to disclose every single piece of information I have to yo."

" Not even when it's about my own father." You said with an even tone, " Or do you not have to disclose that piece of information to me."

Christine lifts her chine, " Y/n I have no idea what you are talking about?"

"Oh you don't?" You ask," So you and your husband aren't hiding emails from my father to me in that big ass computer?"

Eyes widen, " How do you -"

"How do I know about that?" You mock, " So it's true?"

"Y/n that's not the point" Christine started, " Your practical joke could have seriously put the lives of your siblings in danger."

" My siblings?" You ask, " They are not my siblings! I don't even know those people!"

Christine stays quiet, then shakes her head, " If you would just come out of the room and get to know them other than Jason-"

"Why so they could tell me how great you are?' You say, " So they can tell me memories they have of you being a good mother to them?"

Christine's eyes well up with tears, " Y/n that's not fair"

"Oh that not fair to you, mom?" you shout, " And it was so fair to me when you left me to raise another kid?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the hallway Dick and Jason are paused half way up the staircase.

Dicks heart falls into his stomach at your comment, knowing that that kid you were talking about was him.

Jason on the other hand had a grim look on his face. He knew that this conversation needed to happen in order for anything to move on.He knew the years of resentment you were holding on to. It wasn't fair to you that everyone in this house had this subconscious expectation that you should just put those years behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That is not what happened" Christine says wetly, " It was just hard, Y/n you don't understand."

"Hard?!" You shout angerliy, " It was hard? Hard for you to visit your daughter once every three fucking months? Was it hard for you to lead my dad on then crush his heart every time you left?"

"NO Y/N thats not true" Christine shouted but before she could continue you went on

"No???" you mocked, " Then what was it mom?"

" Everytime I went to see you, you had grown." Christine sniffs, " You had grown and had new adventures and stories and milestones that i was not a part of. I-"

"OH bullshit!" You shout

"Y/n." Christine says sadly

"NO, no you don't get to play that card! You left by choice!" You cry, " You left me by choice, you hid me away by choice! You chose this life for us."

" I loved you so much. I LOVE you so much Y/n!"

"You have a funny way of showing it." You say dryly, " You have this perfect life here. Perfect husband, a shit load of kids who adore you. I adored you. Why wasn't I enough?"

Christine's heartbroke and she couldn't answer you because truthfully, she didn't have an answer.

"And the one parent I was enough for I had to leave. I had to leave him and my mother behind for my other one who didn't want me. And I'm stuck in a house full of these kids who adore you and didn't know that I adored you well before them. And yet even though I'm here I'm alone. And that still isn't enough for you."

Christine wanted to say you weren't alone. You weren't because you have her. She's here for you, but that wasn't true. She hadn't been there. She wasn't there even when she was.

"You had to make me think my father forgot about me the way you did for what? So I can like you again? So I could forget all the times you promised you were going to come see me and you didn't? Why?"

"I..I just wanted to keep you safe.." Christine spouted pathetically.

"Safe?" You said, herding her towards your door, " No, everything you've done is because you want to look better. You're selfish. That's what you've always been"

And with that you slam the door in her face, startling the boys on the stairs and Christine as she didn't even realize that she was in the hallway.

Staring at your door she wept. For once, truly feeling the regret that she said she had been feeling. She did truly love you, she had not lied about that. To hear you finally say how you weren't enough for her broke her heart.

"Ma..are you okay?" Jason softly asked as Dick went to knock at your door, a bit angry at the way you spoke to his mother,

"Leave her be." A soft voice demanded from the hallway, " Dick, leave her be. Your mother was not the only one hurt in that conversation."

Bruce walked to Christine, and gently lead her to their room.

Upon the commotion outside, no one heard you open your window and slip out.

"It's about time, I almost died waiting for you."

"You can't die, that's your whole thing." You reply, wiping tears from your face.

"You're crying." Wade says in an unnaturally serious voice, " Do I have to kill your hot mom?"

You cringe, " No, just get me out of here."

"I could do that, actually I have a surprise for you~" He sings as he leads you to his taxi...

You heard what sounds like banging coming from the trunk and you're slightly scared to open it.

"Wade.."

"Oh don't be a pussy" He says opening the trunk.

Popping out with a gasp is

"Peter?" You say with a sigh, eyes welling up with tears again. You truly have missed your friends.

"That was not cool Wade!" He shouts, not grasping where he was, " The trunk smelled like nachos and vomit! I couldn't nngh-"

He grunts as you throw yourself into his arms, " Y/n.."

His arms wrap around you tightly, " Y/n what are you.. Where am I?"

"Gotham, now get me the hell out of here."

And with that, you're loaded into the car, taking the backseat with Peter and Wade in the front with an Indian man.

"Y/n this is Dopiender"

"Hello ms. Stark, I promise I will defend you with my life."

"Oh...well, thank you."

"This was surprisingly easy." Wade said as they pulled out of the long driveway, " Bruce Wayne should update his security."

What they didn't know, was that a pair of bright green eyes watched your reunion through the security camera in the Batcave. Squinting as they saw the tears flow freely through your face and noting the license plate and the men you were with.

[adrienneleclerc]

Christmas Decorations

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Latina! Reader

Summary: Christmas decorating with Charles Leclerc.

A/N: sorry if you don’t celebrate Christmas, I celebrate on Christmas Eve though, it’s called Nochebuena.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

Charles and Y/N are shopping for ornaments and other Christmas decorations because it will be their first time putting up a Christmas tree together in his apartment.

“Muñeco, should we get the colorful ornaments or the classic red, silver, and gold ornaments?” Y/N asked Charles, holding up the 2 cases of ornaments she found. “Ooh, what about these ornaments?” Y/N said, putting down the two cases she was holding to walk towards a different shelf. “They’re shades of blue! Ooh, and they have rose gold ornaments, there’s even pink, I fucking love Christmas. Which ornaments should we get, mi vida?”

“Mon coeur, we can get whatever you want.” Charles said, pushing the shopping cart.

“But It’s your apartment…”

“Our apartment.” Charles reminded Y/N.

“Our apartment.” Y/N emphasized the first word. “I need your input! Like I love blue, but it also needs to look Christmassy but not simple, you know?” Y/N asked. Charles chuckled, shaking his head. He walked towards his fiancé and kissed her softly, rubbing her arms with his hands.

“Mon ange, the tree will look beautiful. How about we get a set of red and gold ornaments, hm? Not just the perfect round ones, but the ones that are different shapes, and we can buy gold ribbon and add it to the tree too, how does that sound?” Charles asked. Y/N nodded her head.

“Sounds good.” Y/N said. “Should we be those types of people who have like Christmas towels, curtains, and stuff? Do you think we should get wreaths for every door in the apartment or stockings? Maybe ? A Christmas themed rug in front of the main door?”

“You Can turn the apartment into a winter wonderland if you want.” Charles said, holding her face in his hands before kissing the tip of her nose and going back to pushing the cart while Y/N went looking for assorted red and gold ornaments before heading to the ribbon section. Charles picked out their tree topper, and both picked out the Christmas home decor such as wreaths, stockings, mistletoes, and a cookie jar shaped as a snowman. After picking everything out, Charles was ready to pay for everything. Once paid, they put the stuff in the car and drove back home.

“I’m going to set up the tree.” Charles said, pulling out the fake Christmas tree he bought days earlier with Christmas lights already installed in. Once set up, Y/N connected her phone to a speak and started playing her Christmas playlist while they decorated the tree.

“I think our tree turned out amazing, thanks for the idea, muñeco.” Y/N said, hugging Charles’s side.

“Of course, Mon coeur. Let’s take a photo in front of the tree to send my mom.” Charles said, pulling out his phone. Y/N nodded and stood closer to him so the photo will come out well. Once the photo was taken, he sent it to his mom who said that they both look adorable and tree was beautiful. “I think it’s safe to say that the tree is Pascale Leclerc approved.” Y/N smiled.

“Ugh, what a relief. Ready to watch my favorite Christmas movie of all time?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, Mon coeur, I’ll put on The Santa Clause while you make the hot chocolate?” Charles asked.

“Of course! Not too hot, extra chocolate, shaken, not stirred.” Y/N quoted Judy the elf, making Charles laugh before he headed to the living room to put the movie on the TV. Y/N was in the kitchen making hot chocolate the French way so it’s a little thick, but using abuelita chocolate and adding a cinnamon stick the traditional Mexican way (unless other Latin countries use abuelita chocolate, I don’t know). Y/N poured the hit chocolate on their matching holiday mugs and she brought them over to the couch.

Charles grabbed a blanket before turning off the lights and pressing play on the movie. Name a better way to spend the holidays.

The End

Hope y’all liked it! Up next: Christmas baking with Oscar Piastri (Yes, no?)

[utterlyunawarewriter]

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY~

Inspired by the Katy Perry song (if you couldn't tell -_-). Feedback appreciated :D

1. Summer after high-school when we first met

You woke up with an ache in your head and the sharp smell of antiseptic. Sunlight from an open window hit your eyes, causing you to shield them with your hand. Memories of your mom's car driving at a neck breaking speed, weird birds with golden beaks and the revelation of your fellow classmate being a half goat hit you as you sat up in bed.

Someone grabbed your arm, and you recoiled form the contact.

A voice coming from somewhere on your left said, "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you."

You turned to face the voice. "That's something someone who's gonna hurt me would say."

You looked over, only to see a boy with bright blue eyes, wearing scrubs. He looked way too young to be in them.

"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, a place for demigods. You-"

"Sorry to interrupt, but i know. Mum gave me the basics before I came here."

You got up, slowly blinking at your surroundings. You were in an infirmary filled with empty beds, except for one, occupied with a scowling girl. Another guy, who looked similar to the one next to you, seemed to be scolding her about something.

You stretch your arms above your head and let out a sigh. After being given a small rundown of how things worked, you left the infirmary and stepped out into the blazing sun. Around you camp bustled with life.

Kids of all ages--from young middle schoolers to people who looked like they belonged in college--rushed from one place to the other. Some stood in small groups, talking and laughing loudly. Golden weapons glinted in the sunlight from where they were kept. As you explore the camp, you saw fellow demigods practicing archery, engaging in sword fights and even participating in hand-to-hand combat.

Amidst the lively crowd, a figure stood out--a young man with striking features that seemed to effortlessly draw the gaze of onlookers. A sense of charm and grace seemed to surround him as he made his way through the crowd. With each step, his presence seemed to command attention, turning heads and causing whispers to emerge.

You saw quite a few people stop whatever they were doing when they saw him coming. Some girls let out high giggles. You watched the people part around him....till you realised he was walking toward you.

You quickly tried to hide the fact that you were staring, but unluckily, he noticed. A blush rose up your throat as you desperately tried to play it cool.

"Hey, I'm Luke", he said extending a hand toward you.

"(Name)."

***

2. We made out in your mustang to Radiohead

"Luke"

Kiss

"Luke-"

"I love you, but please shut up (name)."

You laughed as his lips met yours again.

Both of you had sneaked into one of the camp vans after lunch. Both of you had blown off camp duties. Luke had bribed Chris to teach a few sword fighting lessons, and you practically begged Michael to take your shift at the infirmary.

And now, after a week of not seeing Luke, you finally had your boyfriend all to yourself.

It still felt weird, calling him that. You had been a couple for only two months-despite the fact that you had been friends since the moment you stepped into camp-and you could still remember the moment when it happened.

Both of you laid on a blanket near the lake. Like had planned a picnic for just the two of you, and your nerves couldn't settle no matter how hard you tried. He was right next to you. Right there.

He had been doing things and planning cute little dates like this for quite sometime now, which often left you wondering if there was any meaning behind them, other than being friendly.

Your nervousness still wouldn't leave you, so you began pointing out various constellations in the night sky. "That's Hercules, and there's Ursa Major, and thats-" you turned to look at him, only to see his gaze already on you. If heart eyes were a real thing, that was probably the best way to describe the way he looked at you.

You stopped speaking and both of you just stared at each other. You didn't know who moved first, you or Luke. All you knew was that one moment he was next to you, and the other his lips were upon yours.

He pulled back a second later, an apology already leaving his mouth when you grabbed his shirt collar and kissed him again. He moved above you and rested his hands on your waist. Yours wove into his curls.

When you finally broke apart, he smiled. You laughed at that, and his smile got a little brighter.

The memory brought a smile on your face, and Luke noticed.

"What's on your mind, sunshine?"

The nickname caused a flush to rise on your face. "Thinkin' bout you."

"Oh really?"

"Mhmm."

He kissed the corner of you lips, before moving down your neck. You let out a content sigh and drew mindless patterns on the back of his shirt with your finger.

Just then somebody knocked on the van door.

"Guys, you might wanna hurry this up. Chiron's looking for the two of you."

***

3. And on my 18th birthday, we got matching tattoos

You stifled a laugh as you watched your boyfriend trip over a tree root because he was too busy looking at you.

His face held an expression on mock hurt as you grinned at his fall. You reached an arm out to help him up, and he took it, only to pull you down with him.

You landed on top of him, and winced. A wave of pain shot up from your upper arm, where underneath your shirt lay a brand new tattoo. Luke noticed your discomfort and moved. He also got one, but his was on his chest.

He lifted your shirt and pressed a soft kiss to the design. "Does that make it better, birthday girl?"

The corner of your mouth lifted. "Much better."

In honour of your 18th birthday today, the two of your snuck out of camp to get matching tattoos, something you always wanted. Now after successfully sneaking out of camp, reaching a tattoo parlor with running into trouble, getting a tattoo, and sneaking back into camp, you were on your way back to your respective cabins.

You looked at your watch. "Actually, my birthday ended, like two and a half hours ago."

"That doesn't count."

"I'm pretty sure it does.....We should get back, Luke. Someone might notice."

"Let them." He kissed you, making tremors run up and down your spine.

***

4. Used to steal you parents liquor, and climb to the roof. Talk about our future like we had a clue

The cheap whiskey burned as you downed it in one go. Luke watched you with amusement.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." He had that stupid look on his face, the one that made you want to kiss it off. He poured you another glass and you brought it to your lips again.

Empty bottles of gods-know-what lay on the roof of cabin 1, with empty glasses scattered around them.

"It can't be nothing, Luke." Your words slurred together as the alcohol took effect. You would definitely be regretting these desicions in the morning, but for now, you reveled in drunken glory.

"Okay, okay, hear me out," he waved his hands dramatically. "We should buy a van when we leave camp. Like, a big one. And travel the world. Just you, me, and the open road."

You giggled, your cheeks flushed from the wine. "A van? We’d look ridiculous!"

"Exactly!" Luke laughed, leaning closer. "We’d be the coolest couple ever. Imagine it—waking up on a beach, cooking breakfast in the back of our van, and just… living."

You bit your lip, your heart swelling at the thought. "That does sound amazing. But what about monsters? Money? You can’t just live off love and good vibes."

"We’ll figure it out! We can be like those mortal influencers or something. Post pictures of our adventures, and people will pay us to travel!"

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. "And what if no one wants to pay us? What then, Mr. Influencer?"

"Then we’ll just sell the van and live in a treehouse!" he declared, raising his glass in a toast. "To treehouses and adventures!"

"To treehouses and adventures!" You echoed, clinking your glass against his. The warmth of the whiskey and the excitement of your dreams made everything feel possible.

As the two of two sipped, you leaned your head on Luke’s shoulder, feeling safe and content. "You know, I really like this idea. Just us against the world. But… what if we don’t want to live in a van forever?"

Luke paused, considering your words. "Then we’ll find a home. A cozy little place with a garden. We can grow our own vegetables and have a dog. Maybe a cat too. We can name them… uh, what’s a good name?"

"Definitely not 'van'," you teased, nudging him playfully. "But I like that idea. A home."

"Exactly!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "We’ll make it happen, (name). I can feel it."

You sat in comfortable silence, both lost in thoughts and away from the worries that came with being a demigod.

***

5. Never thought that one day, I'll be losing you...

"I-what?" You couldn't believe what you heard. You didn't want to believe what you heard.

"The gods are terrible people (name)! Think about all those unclaimed campers in cabin 11! They don't care about us. They never did and never will!"

"Luke, I know. Trust me, I know. But what you are suggesting...thats-thats crazy! The gods aren't perfect but-" the titan lord's name died on your tongue"-he'll be so much worse!"

You paced around the forest, leaves crunching under your feet. Luke brought you there being extremely secretive. You thought he might have planned a cute date, but you never expected this.

"(Name), just listen." He begged. You never saw him like this before. He looked at you with such desperation ypu didn't have any choice other than to hear him out.

"I know you're hesitant, but the Olympians have had they're chances so many damn times! And look where its gotten us! They treat us like pawns in their games!

"But with the Titans." He paused, and a hint of pride seeped into his voice. "We can forge our own path. Imagine a place where you’re not just a demigod, but a force to be reckoned with. You’d have the chance to prove yourself, to rise up and be part of something greater than any of us." Luke's voice softened slightly, as if sharing a secret. "I believe in you. I know you have what it takes to join us. Together, we can make a difference—one that will echo through history. (Name), will you stand with me and fight for our future?" His gaze held yours, waiting for your response, the weight of the decision heavy in the air.

"I...." You didn't know what to say. Luke said everything with such confidence that for a moment--but only a moment--you believed him. Your choice was already made.

Your hands found your blade, the one hidden inside your pocket. One moment, you stood infront of him defenceless, and the other you had pinned him against a tree, you dagger at his throat.

"Luke, please. You don't have to do this." Tears stung your eyes, but you didn't let them fall.

Luke's eyes hardened. "You know, Percy said the same thing."

Your eyes widened is shock. "Luke...what did you do?"

"He's near the creek. You should hurry, he doesn't have much time."

This time ypu couldn't stop your tears. A few escaped your eyes as you turned in the direction of the creek, leaving Luke Castellan to his fate. Whatever it would be.

____________________________________

My masterlist

[thrashkink-coven]

One aspect about being a Luciferian that I think is seldom talked about is how you will be demonized by people you know and love in real life.

The other night Lord Lucifer visited me in a dream. I was at the thrift store looking at books, as I usually do, and I saw this beautiful bright red leather bound book named “Lucifer before he rose”.

It was about his time as a God of the Underworld and the demonized adversary, about how he was hated and isolated. How the people he loved most were used against him. How he was shunned through lies and propaganda. One page that stuck with me was one with a beautiful illustration of him heartbroken at the bottom of a chasm. Beside it read:

“I am the prince that all things pay for being,

The shadow on the world, thrown by the world

Standing in its own light, which light God is.

So first, when matter I was, I was called Change,

and next, when life began, I was called Pain,

and last, when knowledge was, I was called Evil,

Nothing myself, except to give a name

To these three values, Permanence, Pleasure, Good,

The Godward side of matter, life, and knowing.”

(I know this quote comes from something I must have read recently but I can’t recall where)

and on the page adjacent it read:

“Lucifer will not know his brothers,

never will he hear the voices of his sisters,

they turn their backs towards him and behold the light of God.”

and the last thing I remember reading was something like “Lucifer before he rose, was hated.”

That dream was at the front of my mind the whole day, and it became all the more clear as to why Lucifer sent it the day went on.

I was supposed to celebrate Thanksgiving with my brothers, however, my mom will not allow my younger brother to be near me. He’s not allowed in my house because my mom doesn’t want him to be “corrupted” by me. Coming from an extremely religious household means that the majority of my family doesn’t fuck with me. They’ll do whatever they can to hurt or make things harder for me because they don’t have control over me anymore. The only thing they can do to me is take away the little that I have left. The only real hope I have at a blood familial connection is with my brothers. My older brother and I had a nice thanksgiving together, but it was just the two of us, no one else.

At this point I’m very used to not having a family. I’ve surrounded myself with people I can depend on and that I know love and respect me. It’s just on days like this when I remember that I truly am everything that they hate, that they would see me burn in hell if they could, that they want me and my friends dead, see me as a contagious disease, that I start to feel lonely.

I feel very comfortable in my craft, with how open I can be. But the reality is that I am hated, I will be for the rest of my life, even after I rise, I am destined to fall, like him. Somehow that makes me feel more safe with him, like he’s the only one who really understands.

I already made a post about this, but last night while I was ✨crying✨ by myself on the balcony, I felt his presence engulfing me like a hug. and I was listening to “I won’t hurt you” by The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. It felt like he was talking directly to me.

“My pale blue star

My rainbow, how good it is

To know you're like me

Strike me with your lightning

Bring me down and bury me with ashes

I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you.”

[hypernova-writes]

Excuse me if this seems too long but I have an idea for a SniperxReader fic that I only trust you with.( please feel free to delete this if you’re not interested) So my idea is that y/n is an employee to base (an assistant role similar to Ms.Pauling but lives on base) anyways one day they hear a phone ringing from inside the base when they were cleaning, and when they do discover it, they answer to find the parents to Sniper wanting to talk to him (how did they get ahold of a base number? I’d imagine a silly excuse like they found it through the phone book) Anyways y/n just makes a lovely first impression to Mick’s parents. Y/N tells Sniper his parents are calling, he’s a bit flustered but appreciative. Cue this routine happening a few more times and then eventually when y/n answers the phone this time, Mick’s mum has an important question. “Yknow love, you speak so fondly of our son…and Micky speaks of you the same. And you’re such a lovely person too! Would you ever consider going out with him?” Cue to y/n and Sniper (secretly listening from behind) completely flushed but also grateful that Martha Mundy broke the ice so they could hit it off. I know there’s some gaps in this but I would love to see with what you come up with. I absolutely fell in love with one of your earlier fics with Scout and I cant wait to see what else you have planned!

-Anon Rose

A/n: I HOPE YOU ENJOY THISSS it was so cute to write!! Also!! I have a tag list! Please let me know if you’d liked to be tagged for future works!!

Taglist!: @im-eating-rn

[Synopsis: While you’re doing your daily rounds helping the other mercs, Snipers Parents call, and you learn that his parents know allll about you.]

You walked around, making sure everyone had what they needed for the day.

You were an assistant to Ms. Pauling, being more hands on with the Mercs and living with them. It was your job to make sure everything ran smoothly at the base.

From if the mercs needed something, fixing things around the base (with the help of engineer of course!), or even helping defend the base when the enemy gets a little too close.

Currently, you had gotten back from logging things that Medic said he needed for the lab. You were passing the phone when you heard it start to ring. Believing it was Ms. Pauling, you ended up picking up the phone.

“Hello? This is Ms (Y/n) speaking?”

“Oh! Hello Deary! May I talk to my son, please?”

You were taken back at first, before realizing the voice had an Australian sounding accent. “Excuse Me? Who is your son if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh! Where are my manners! I’m Mrs. Mundy! My son is Mick!”

You then smile softly. “Oh! Sniper! Well I’ll go him real quick!”

“Thank you deary, what is your name again?"

"Y/N, ma'am."

"Oh! Well it's nice to meet you Y/n!"

You smile before Walking around the corner after placing the phone down, “Sniper~! Phone for you!”

Sniper, who was listening to whatever crazed conversation soldier was having with Demoman lifted his head up. You could see a slight red tinge his face before he quickly got up to it.

“..Thanks Sheila…” He’ll mutter before answers the phone, you could see the adorable blush on his face as his mom rambled on.

When they hang up, he comes to you with a nervous tone, "my mom..would like to speak to you again..if it's 'lright with you."

This starts a little routine between you, Sniper and the phone.

Every time his parents call, you answer the phone first, having a small little chat with both his mom and dad. You’d ask them about their day, what they were up to and similar questions of the nature, Sometimes you’’d be on the phone longer than Sniper is!

His mom loves to tell you embarrassing stories about his childhood, explain how happy she is that her son has someone like you.

"I'm so happy Micky has a gal like you around! I was worried about him!"

Today was another day of that little routine, you heard the phone ringing while you were doing paper work. You stopped your work and made your way over to the phone and picked it up.

“Good Afternoon, Mrs Mundy!”

“Hello there Darling! How are you?”

This time, Sniper walks up behind you, watching silently, with a small smile on his face.

“Y’know, love, You speak so fondly of our son..” His mom starts and you couldn’t help the small smile on your face, not knowing that Sniper was behind you.

“Oh of course, Sniper and I are very close, I’d do anything to help him out, and I’m pretty sure he’d do the same for me!” you chirp and you can hear his mother chuckle on the other side.

“Oh that’s grand..because our little Micky talks about you too! He speaks so highly of you. Isn’t that right honey?”

You can hear a faint male voice agree in the background , and guessed it was Snipers Dad.

"Yea he does! All the time!"

Now it was your turn to blush as you griped the phone a little tighter. “H..he speaks of me?”

“Oh yes, Yes! Every time! He talks about how lovely you look! How you’re always to nice to him, he thinks you’re really pretty darling!”

You were so glad that your back was facing Sniper and he couldn’t hear what his mom has just said to you. You sigh softly and was about to speak before she spoke again.

“Would you ever consider dating him, Y/N?”

You froze and a nervous chuckle left your body, you turned to face Sniper, who was a bit confused at your flustered expression.

“You alright ‘roo?” He asks and you nod before finally answering his mother.

“U-um..you know..I would love to date him, Mick is such a wonderful man..I’d be honored. You surely raised him right..” You say as you looked at Sniper.

He turns a bright red and his hand goes to rub the back of his neck. He then walks up to you, giving a shy and sheepish grin as he takes the phone from you gently.

“Hey, Mom, is it alright If i talk to ya later?..I have something important to do right now.”

It seems his mom picked up on the tone of his voice and you could’ve sworn you heard the older lady cheering through the phone. You giggle softly as Sniper hangs up the phone.

He walks up to you, reaching his hand up to caress your face, he smiles gently.

“So..About that date..’roo.”

Hope you enjoy this!!! It was really cute, and I'm a sniper girly (as well as a medic and Scout–) I should be posting my heavy kinktober post and an engineer request I got as well!!

[7s3ven]

hii ! i love your writing so much so you know i had to request a luke imagine 💝

i’m thinking of a reader with a protective godly parent (your choice of which god), who is very selective on who they allow their child to date. luke has loved them for years, so one night he prays to their parent for approval. idk if you’ve watched gilmore girls, but I’m imagining the scene where dave tries to convince lane’s mom to allow her to date ! (if you haven’t seen the show, its a popular clip on tt that you could look up if u wanted)

i’m picturing fluff but could def make it angst too, so it’s whatever you want! also, i’m a fem reader, but i don’t mind gender neutral or anything like that

tysm ! ❤️

DAVE AND LANE SHOULD HAVE BEEN ENDING GAME

I LIKE ME BETTER. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Luke is on a mission to prove himself to the father of the girl he loves. He’ll do anything for her hand, even if said god is asking him to do some particularly stupid stunts.

“I like me better when I’m with you.”

Warnings: drinking, smoking, and vaping mentioned

A/N: Guys… I love loser! Luke AND I KNOW YOU DO TOO. I feel like Dionysus would be the guy to put Luke through all this stuff just for his own amusement

Also, this is my little birthday gift for y’all 😽. Bc it’s my bday today 🙀

—

The first thing when you thought of a daughter of Dionysus’ was a troublemaker, one that rivalled the Stoll brothers. Maybe an alcoholic with bad habits engraved in her mind like her father.

Y/N was a total shock to the camp. How could such a sweet, kind, dazzling girl be the daughter of Dionysus? She didn’t have one mean or sarcastic bone in her body.

She was as bright as Apollo’s kids, as beautiful as the Aphrodite girls prancing around in mini skirts and small tops, and as friendly as the Demeter children who grew roses alongside her. So, it wasn’t a surprise that boys craned their heads to peek at her, something her father hated witnessing. Nobody, not one mere mortal or even a godly being, was good enough for his beloved daughter.

Dionysus held Y/N close. She reminded him of her mother, who died giving birth to her. He had already lost one important woman in his life. He wasn’t going to let history repeat itself again.

“Dad?” Y/N called out into her father’s room, wrinkling up her nose when she almost stumbled over a wine bottle rolling around. Her father was forbidden to consume alcohol but that didn’t stop him from tricking the younger campers into fetching him some.

After concluding that her father wasn’t in his quarters, Y/N took the bottle and wandered to find a bin. The trash cans were always moving around, which made it a mission to find one.

As Y/N passed by the Hermes cabin, she heard her name. She glanced over her shoulder, innocently staring at the pair of boys who were conversing outside. One was leaning against a wooden pillar while the other rested his arms against the railing of the porch.

One noticed Y/N and he nudged his friend, quickly changing their conversation topic.

Y/N recognised Luke Castellan. The Aphrodite girls loved to rave about him, about how handsome and talented he was. How they wished they could kiss him. How they wanted to be held in his arms.

He wasn’t bad looking in Y/N’s eyes, quite adorable actually. She watched as his lips curved into an amused smile as he looked at Chris and how his eyes crinkled slightly. Despite wanting to admire him, Y/N forcefully turned her head. She wasn’t allowed to date. That was one of her father’s golden rules.

She was allowed to drink, allowed to smoke, probably even allowed to go skinny-dipping in the dead of night. Her father was fine with anything as long as she wasn’t around any boys. Of course, she never did consume alcohol or take a much needed hit from a cigarette. She had seen other kids do it.

One of the Ares kids was constantly sneaking in and out of camp to buy new vapes. She had even witnessed Luke of all people, the esteemed golden boy, the role model, blow a cloud of smoke from his lips.

Y/N was always scared she was missing out but she valued her healthy lungs, which had played a part in her surviving a terrifying harpy while on her way to camp.

“She’s perfect.” Luke whispered to Chris.

“Too bad Mr D won’t let you near her.”

It was a known fact that nobody was allowed to date Y/N. She was the camp princess. The only demigod with a parents who cared enough about her to be actively involved in her life. Not even Annabeth had that kind of bond with Athena.

Luke hoped one day Dionysus would let him near Y/N. Until then, he was fine admiring her from afar because he knew no other guys could approach her either.

"You know, I heard Dionysus won't be at the campfire tonight... you could make a move." Chris nudged Luke, muttering quietly so nobody else heard him.

Luke had always been determined to be the first to sweep Y/N off her feet. This was his chance to fulfil that broad claim. He didn't know how he'd do it but when there's a will, there's a way.

All throughout the day, Luke kept close tabs on Y/N. When she was in the arena he was there too, polishing the spare swords. When she was in the garden, Luke happened to be amongst the tall grass too. And he gazed longingly at her from across the pavilion during lunch. She sat alone at her table, Dionysus nowhere in sight.

Luke's heart hammered in his chest as he slowly stood up. Chris slapped his back as a way of encouraging him but it only made his anxiety spike.

“Go get her, tiger.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Luke picked up the pace when he realized that a few other boys the same idea as his. “Hey, Y/N.” He got to her first.

She lifted her head, staring at him through her lashes. She smiled. “Hi, Luke.” She saw his eyes light up.

“You know my name?”

“I’ve been here longer than you. Plus, it’d help concerning if I didn’t know the name of the best swordsman.”

“I’m not that good.”

“You won in a 4 V 1 battle.” Y/N pointed out.

“Did I? I didn’t even notice.”

Y/N let out an amused laugh but she immediately cut herself off when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. Luke cleared his throat, standing upright.

“Good afternoon, Mr D.” He politely greeted the god.

“Scram, Castellan.” Mr D ordered, glowering at the teenager. Luke quickly nodded and speed-walked back to his table, where Chris was trying to muffle his laughter.

“He wasn’t even flirting with me, dad.” Y/N huffed and furrowed her eyebrows. Her eyes wandered to Luke, feeling a little sorry for him.

“Stop looking at him, Y/N.” Dionysus lightly scolded her. Y/N pouted and pushed the food on her plate around with her fork.

“I wish you would let me date. I’m the only girl who hasn’t kissed someone.” She muttered, huffing.

“I will not let you date a hooligan.”

“Daddy, Luke isn’t a hooligan. He’s sweet. He’s the best swordsman in three hundred years.”

“Which means he could easily hurt you.”

“He wakes up early to go for a run.”

“Wow, the perfect set-up to cheat.”

“He’s good with kids.”

“He’ll want his own kids with you soon.”

“That last one didn’t even make sense.”

“I know a man’s mind, Y/N. Luke Castellan is a dangerous boy.”

Y/N glanced at Luke and Dionysus followed her gaze. Luke was attempting to balance a spoon on his tongue while Chris cracked up.

“Dangerous, huh? I’m absolutely terrified.” Y/N sarcastically deadpanned.

“He’s acting innocent.”

“Sure.”

Fathers always had a weird vendetta against the idea of their daughters dating. Dionysus was no different. If anything, he was worse. He was always popping up at the worst times, such as just now. He never let the attention of a boy linger on Y/N for too long, scared it would take her away from him. Perhaps he was doing it on purpose.

“It’s so unfair.” Y/N huffed as she plucked petals off a rose Silena had randomly given her. “He won’t let me date or go to the parties. I’m not even allowed to look at a boy!” Y/N groaned, leaning back in her foldable chair.

She was sitting with Silena in front of the quiet lake, watching as the wind rippled across the still water.

“Have you tried talking to him?” Silena suggested, sipping on a tall glass of whatever drink she had mixed.

“Nothing works! Someday he’ll have to let me date. He can’t stop me forever. I’m almost twenty now!”

Silena hummed before offering Y/N some pineapple juice.

“Any new gossip, though? Besides Mr D being a total cock block.”

“Well… there’s this one guy.” Y/N murmured, shyly flicking her straw around. Silena immediately sat up.

“Tell me everything!” She quickly demanded. “What’s his name? Is he cute? Can he fight?”

“He can’t fight… and he’s good-looking. He’s, uh,” Y/N diverted her gaze elsewhere, “Also a son… of Hermes.”

“Luke Castellan!” Silena exclaimed without hesitation. “I knew there was something going on when he approached her! Why haven’t you taken an interest in him before? You and him have been here for ages.”

“He had a middle part before.”

“Oh, I remember that!” Silena let out a quiet giggle as she relaxed again, kicking her feet in excitement. “Ask him out.”

“You’re forgetting one problem. My dad!”

Silena shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Make Luke prove himself to Mr D. That worked with my dad!”

“Luke proved himself to your dad?”

“No, silly! It was another boy. But if Luke wants to be seen as worthy, he has to impress Mr D!”

“I guess.” Y/N mumbled as she slowly nodded her head.

“Great. Let’s get ready for the campfire. A new Ares boy arrived and I want to see Melo flirt with him. She flirts with everyone.”

Y/N poked a large marshmallow through the skewer before shoving it into the hot flames in front of her. Silena was talking but she was too spaced out to hear a word.

Y/N aimlessly hummed and occasionally nodded her head. “Yup.” She muttered, turning her marshmallow over and watching as the soft white treat turned crisp.

“Are you even listening? I said Luke is staring at you.”

That got Y/N’s attention. She quickly lifted her head, her gaze immediately searching for the brunette. She found him amongst the Hermes kids and a few of the Aphrodite girls loitered around him. He smiled at her for a split second before his eyes flickered to Y/N’s marshmallow.

He subtly pointed at it and Y/N huffed once she realized her marshmallow had caught fire and been burnt black. “That was my last one.” She threw the skewer into the fire, allowing the hot flames to swallow it up.

“Well, you did keep eating them.” Silena pointed out.

Y/N sent her a small glare. “You’re literally eating one of my marshmallows right now. You have a whole pile sitting on your skirt!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Silena was quick to shove the rest into her mouth. “Bye!” She exclaimed but her words were muffled by the marshmallows.

“You owe me!” Y/N called out after her.

“Is Silena stealing marshmallows again?” Luke chuckled as he came to a stop in front of Y/N. He shoved his hands into his pockets whilst Y/N nodded.

“She does this every time. She’s stealing from Annabeth now!” Y/N wildly gestured over at Silena who was sweetly convincing Annabeth to hand over a few marshmallows.

“She should be notorious for being the marshmallow thief.” Luke grinned. He sat down beside Y/N, their shoulders gently brushing.

“Sorry about my dad at lunch.” Y/N blurted out. “He can be a tad… overprotective. You know how he is.”

“Well, I did see him set somebody’s clothes on fire for winking at you.”

Y/N quietly sighed. “Yeah… poor Nick. May he rest in peace.”

Luke glanced over at Nick who was guarding his marshmallows with his life. “He isn’t dead, you know.”

“Yeah, but he looked like he died back then.”

A familiar presence appeared from behind the pair and Luke immediately stiffened while Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Castellan. What are you doing talking with my daughter?” Dionysus sounded friendly yet when he slung an arm around Luke’s shoulder, he could tell the god was holding back on strangling him.

“We’re just talking about Silena and her marshmallows, daddy.” Y/N quickly piped up, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Castellan, let’s have a chat, shall we?” Dionysus dragged Luke off before either of the teens could stop him.

“Mr D, before you say anything, please don’t set me on fire! And if you do, spare my pants! These were expensive and I even got them on sale!”

“Keep your pants on, kid.” Dionysus grunted, knowing Luke was fully prepared to unbutton his jeans in order to preserve them. “What business do you have with my daughter, hm?”

Luke visibly relaxed at the idea of his jeans surviving the convention. “If it isn’t too bold to say, Mr D… I like her. A lot. I have for… years now. But I’ve always respected your wish to distance her from boys. I’ll even pray to you. I’ll give you wine. I’ll pray to you with wine and vodka and butterscotch and, uh, more wine! And grapes! Big, red grapes! Just give me a chance!”

Dionysus held up a hand to stop Luke’s aimless rambling. “You want to have a shot with my daughter?” He asked. Luke frantically nodded. “Alright. Do as I say and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Luke thickly gulped. He didn’t like that mischievous look in Dionysus’ eyes but nevertheless, he agreed. “Thank you, Mr D!”

Luke was the first camper to wake up. He reached under his bed, pulling out a large bottle of vintage wine he had been saving for this very occasion.

“Good morning, Mr D!” He cheerfully exclaimed, clearly showed the god the label of the alcohol.

“It’s worse now that you’re here.” Dionysus grumbled, yet he held out his chalice for Luke to pour him a much needed drink. Once he had gulped it all down, he turned to face Luke again. “Alright, first task, get rid of some rogue hellhound. Chiron sent me to do it but you’re more than capable, right?”

Luke was in no position to disagree.

“It’s near camp so don’t get ya knickers in a twist.” Dionysus stood up, brushing the bread crumbs off his lamp. “See ya at soon, kid. Oh, and I’ll be taking that.” He grabbed the wine bottle without a care in the world, merrily whistling to him with a small skip in his step.

“Did I just see you talking to my dad?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. Seeing her dad get along with a camper was a rare sight.

“Somewhat.” Luke muttered. “Uh, good morning? You’re up early.”

“I went out for a morning jog.” Y/N smiled as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “So, hell hound catching, huh?”

“Yeah- Wait, what?” Luke’s gaze snapped to stare at Y/N in slightly shock. She stifled a small laugh.

“I heard your conversation. What’s the hell hound all about?”

Luke quietly sighed. “Don’t tell your dad I told you,” He leaned forward to whisper in Y/N’s ear, “But I convinced him to let me befriend you if I did a few things for him.”

Of course, being Y/N’s friend wasn’t Luke’s main priority but it was better than nothing.

“You better get to it, then. I’m getting lonely.” Y/N laughed as she playfully punched his shoulder. He chuckled alongside her.

“Yeah. I’ll see you soon.” He calmly brushed past Y/N, his smile faltering, “If I survive this.” He muttered to himself, his hands itching to grab a sword.

Finding the hellhound wasn’t hard. Luke spotted its raven black pelt amongst the bright green bushes. It stood out like a sore thumb. It was getting rid of it that would be the problem.

As soon as Luke carelessly stepped forward, a twig snapped under his foot, the hellhound growled. It loudly barked, baring its sharp teeth at the Hermes boy. He pointed his sword at the beast, narrowing his eyes.

“I swear, if you kill me, Hades better revive me so I can date Y/N.” Luke launched forward, tackling the large dog. It howled as his sword scratched its leg. “Nice dog!” Luke nervously chuckled. The hellhound barked again, kicking Luke with its powerful back legs.

“Easy now!” Luke wheezed, the air being knocked out of him from the repetitive blows.

Luke was supposed to be the best fighter at camp. He never dared picture himself rolling across the ground, practically body slamming a hellhound as mud stuck to his orange shirt.

“Just lie still so I can score a date with my long time crush!” Luke exclaimed as he scrambled to stand up. The hellhound paused in confusion, giving Luke enough time to turn it into fine dust.

“I’m never doing that again.” He muttered to himself as he stormed past the tall trees. Dionysus was standing beside the forest, drinking the wine as he seemed to be waiting for Luke. The god pulled down his sunglasses, bursting into rambunctious laughter when he saw Luke.

“What happened to you?! You look terrible, kid!” Dionysus cackled, throwing his head back in amusement.

“You spilled some wine.” Luke muttered, unamused. His usual perfect skin was now adorned with small cuts and bruises. His shirt was covered in dirt. And his hair what probably taken the brute of the attack. Twigs and leaves stuck out of his messy curled brown locks, which caused Dionysus to snicker.

“I told you it wasn’t gonna be easy, kid. You’ll hate tomorrow’s task even more.”

Luke hated every task.

Monday’s was the hellhound. Tuesday’s little chore was to clean the girl’s bathroom. He found out then how much long hair they lost. The Aphrodite girls always complained about their hair falling out. Well, Luke had found it down the drain.

Wednesday’s shenanigan was to steal Clarisse’s beloved spear. Luke wasn’t sure how he was alive after being caught by her. Thursday was surprisingly peaceful. All he had to do was sneak out of camp to buy Mr D more wine.

It was now Friday. Luke was wondering what Mr D had in store for him today. Breakfast whizzed by as usual. A few Aphrodite girls tried to catch his attention but he was focused on Mr D whispering something in Y/N’s ear.

Luke waited patiently throughout the day to be given an idiotic task. It was lunch time when Mr D approached him.

“You finish this one, kid, and you might have my blessing.”

These words made Luke’s eyes light up. “What is it?” He demanded.

“Follow the trail in the forest, jump across some trees, do a perfect dive into the lake from the highest cliff, and swim across the water towards camp. Easy peasy.”

Luke’s small smile wavered. “You’re… joking, right?”

The blank look on Mr D’s face told Luke he wasn’t. Luke sighed. “I’ll get my towel.”

The run through the forest wasn’t so bad. As soon as Luke gave Mr D his towel, he jogged into the thick vegetation. Mr D would be waiting at the finish line for him, if he ever made it. Climbing trees was not Luke’s forte.

His palms were sweaty as he peered down below, quickly gulping at how far down the ground seemed. “I didn’t know I was this stupid.” He muttered to himself before leaping onto a nearby thick branch. He repeated the action, always barely making it and wobbling.

Small beads of sweat trickled down Luke’s forehead as he hiked up the steep hill towards the cliff under the scorching sun. He could see the small figure of Mr D on the other side of the lake.

Luke was thankful he had taken diving lessons before. With a snippet of hesitation, he gracefully jumped. He hit the cold water, shivering. It felt like small needles poking his body. Luke emerged, panting and spitting out a mouthful of water.

He heard Mr D quietly clap. “Good job, kid.”

“What?!” Luke exclaimed, still too far away to hear the god’s voice.

“I said, good job! It was a decent dive!” Mr D cupped his hands over his mouth.

Luke emerged from the lake, drenched and cold and clutching his body as he searched for some warmth.

“Dad? What’s going on here?”

Both Luke and Mr D stiffened at the sound of Y/N’s voice. “Why was Luke in the lake?”

“Mr D.” Luke cut in, “I have something to say.”

“I’m busy, Castellan.”

“You’re literally standing in front of me. That’s all you’re doing.”

“Don’t let the sassy man apocalypse take you too, Castellan.”

“I have a crush on your daughter, sir. You probably already knew that. I know you have strict rules about dating and boys. But I promise to take good care of your daughter. I’ve only smoked once to try it, I don’t drink because I’m scared it’ll make me stupid, I’ve never gotten a ticket. I’m healthy, I take care of myself, I floss for ten minutes every night and that might seem extreme but cavities are no joke. I do well in activities here and I hardly ever play the video games my siblings do in case the theory of them turning you into a psycho is true. I don’t drink coffee. I hate soda because my stomach can’t handle the carbonation. I’ll willingly eat like a cow if you don’t want me eating meat. I don’t mind wearing a suit in the hot sun. I enjoy spending limited time with Y/N and I really, really, really like her.”

Mr D was silent. Luke subtly cleared his throat. “Uh… Mr D? Please don’t make me repeat that list again.”

Mr D broke into a pattern of snickers. “To tell you the truth, Castellan, I was going to let you date my daughter ages ago. She convinced me. It was just so fun making you do stupid things.”

Luke’s face dropped. “I did all that… for nothing… Clarisse almost killed me!”

Mr D, sensing Luke’s anger, merely rolled his eyes and quickly walked off in a drunken manner. “Have fun, you too.”

“Did you really fight a hellhound?” Y/N asked.

“Yes. It ruined my Hello Kitty socks!” Luke huffed. “But I’d do it again for you. What do you say, Y/N? Will you go out with me?” Luke clasped his hands together as a way of begging.

“I feel a little sorry for you, so okay.” She pulled him into a hug. “You know you’re going to have to prove yourself to my friends now.”

Luke stiffened. “No more hellhounds. Please.”

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