#when i was a kid it made no sense to me but i figured maybe i'd understand when i was older

[ghostradiodylan]

Probably a lukewarm take, but other than the (lack of an) ending, the Laura and Ryan scenes are some of the worst written and conceived parts of The Quarry.

And this is completely separate from whether Ryan is interested in Dylan (he is, but that's another post and not important to this rant) or Kaitlyn; even if Ryan had no other potential relationships in the game, even if Laura wasn't practically married to Max, wearing his ring around her neck the entire time they're talking, it still would feel flat to me because nothing about it is earned.

Laura is on a killing spree with the single-minded goal of saving Max. She genuinely believes the only way to do that is to kill Chris Hackett. Even if you've made her argue with Max to the extent that they can, they're still a strong unit when she goes out to solve this werewolf thing once and for all. Even if you don't believe in love think their relationship would survive all this trauma, she deeply believes she owes it to him to rescue him, that is her entire guiding ethos during the game.

Ryan is going with her to try to keep that from happening because Chris has been his friend and mentor for years. We know Ryan has an absent mother, unmentioned father, and a potentially turbulent family life, and he's been coming to HQSC for so long that it feels like home to him, that Chris and his kids feel like family. Laura has already killed Kaylee. Even if Ryan completely bought into the werewolf thing by now, that would be a tough pill for him to swallow, given his reaction to her death.

Then, they fall in the titular Quarry and suddenly have the option to express a completely unearned sort of camaraderie with each other. Why is Laura asking Ryan about his love life in the first place? The question about him being single makes sense as a dig, but it doesn't make any sense for her to ask about him being a 'brooding and mysterious loner' because... she hasn't actually seen him do anything brooding or mysterious? How did she even get that impression? If Laura's got some kind of borderline psychic intuition then this is really the worst possible use of that ability--she should have foreseen her need to go to that motel and stay the fuck out of locked storm shelters instead.

It doesn't make a lick of sense for her to say that Kaitlyn looks up to him either. She hasn't seen that. Hell, we as players haven't even seen that! Kaitlyn seems generally tolerant of but unimpressed by Ryan. She has the option to be impatient with him multiple times and even get the chyron that she's ‘losing respect’ for him if he suggests she take the gun and go after Nick instead. This seems like an objectively good idea, since she's a much better shot than Ryan, a fact which the game keeps telling us despite refusing to give her a gun until the last possible second, though maybe the concern is that she'd have to drag Nick back to the campfire herself. (Honestly, I think Kaitlyn could do it, I think she's like a mighty ant who can lift many times her own weight, but that's not what this post is about.)

Ryan, for his part, shouldn't really be willing to talk about any of this with Laura either. He canonically doesn't even want to talk to his coworkers about his animation school decision (in the office scene with Dylan and at the campfire with Emma if you choose truth like a lunatic) and he's known them for at least two months, if not for years attending the same camp. But he met Laura a few hours ago and is suddenly willing to spill his guts about who he does or doesn't have a crush on and who does/doesn't have 'the hots' for him, despite the only experience they have together being her leaving his friend of several years dead facedown in a pool and expressing a strong desire to kill his father figure? I simply do not buy it.

I'm not sure if this was supposed to go along with the relationship system that they scrapped or what (there's not a single shred of Ryan and Laura stuff in the datamine that I've been able to find), but all it really serves to do is muddy the waters by trying to force some level of intimacy on Ryan and Laura before the big confrontation at the Hackett House. But that confrontation itself should have been the thing that forged that intimacy between them and allowed them to go on to fight Silas together.

Overall, I think it's a major sign that the back third of the game got a very rushed and, frankly, bad chop job (which we know is true) and that they struggled to tie the resulting loose threads off in a way that made any kind of narrative sense. It's a shame, because the writing in The Quarry is actually way better than most people give it credit for, it just wasn't allowed to pay off in a lot of ways that clearly were intended.

[howlingday]

jaune is spiderman au) jaune confronts the red huntress while having to be on a call with his grandpa who keeps telling him that since he's a superhero he should be pulling more bitches, like that red huntress lady! she's hot as hell and totally into him. or that iron fist girl with the gauntlets! she's stacked as hell! or even that reaper girl, she's cute enough! maybe the mercenary chick weiss? or that asguardian girl nora! he could totally pull a goddess of thunder! he just needs to have confidence and ask them out. huntsman is regretting answering the phone on speaker mode

Chapter 3 - Greater Responsibility

Today was not Jaune's day, for more than one reason. To start off, he found out he was failing some of his classes. Adding to that, he was caught up in some schoolyard teasing and was forced into a curfew, wherein he was to stay on schoolgrounds for the next two weeks. Thankfully, Professor Ozpin was kind enough to allow Jaune to attend the school fieldtrip to the Vale Police Department, which was perfect because although Jaune Arc was grounded, the same could not be said for

THE HUNTSMAN SPIDER!

Sneaking off from the group to go to the bathroom, Jaune was able to sneak his way around to find the evidence room. Now he just needed to figure out how to-

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?!"

"Ack!" Jaune whirled around to find a woman in a white uniform, glaring down the hall at him. "S-Sorry! I was just looking for the bathroom!"

"Bull!" She spat. "This isn't some playground, kid! This is a police station, and unauthorized access is punishable pretty severely!"

"Um, I-"

"Just let him go, Bree." A man behind her said with a shrug. "Not like he was hurting anyone. Here, kid, I'll tell ya where to go."

The woman sneered, hissing under her breath. "You got lucky, kid."

'Lucky is right.' Jaune watched the woman stomp away. He looked to the man who had a more relaxed visage. 'These uniforms don't look like police.'

"Um, excuse me, but are you not police officers?"

"That's right." The man nodded. "We're specialists from Atlas. We're here on a special project with the police. You didn't hear it from me, but there's a lot of nasty business going on in town, and Atlas is itching to get in there and help out our friendly neighbors in Vale." Suddenly, the man's eyes took on a darker tone to match his words. "So don't go starting any trouble tonight."

Jaune gulped. "Er, yes, sir."

"Great! See ya round, kid!" Having completed escorting Jaune back to the restrooms, the man walked away with the same grin he wore when he met Jaune. Something about him made Jaune's spider-sense flare up. Though not as much as-

"MISTER ARC!" Professor Goodwitch shouted. "Need I remind you that you are on CURFEW for your misconduct?" A couple of student giggled at how Jaune shrunk into himself. So far, the only win Jaune had was the location of the evidence room. It wasn't much, but it was at least something to start with, right?

--------------------------------------------------

"You're going out tonight, too?"

"Yeah." Pyrrha nodded, pulling out her new outfit. Black wasn't able to convince her to stop, so the two agreed to help The Red Huntress become a proper vigilante. Tonight, Pyrrha would begin another night of patrolling with Black and learn the ropes. Whether or not ropes were actually included, Pyrrha wasn't sure. "Just for a few hours."

"Are you sure you can trust this guy?" Nora asked, watching Pyrrha put her arm into the sleeve. "For all we know, he could be a pervert trying to kidnap you."

"I don't think so." Pyrrha shook her head. "Something about the way they spoke about the White Fang made me think that they meant what they said."

"Well, if you need me, I'm gonna be hanging out with Ren tonight." Nora shook her scroll. "Just give me a call and I will drop everything to come help you!"

Pyrrha giggled. "I appreciate the offer, Nora, but I don't think I'll be needing it."

"Buuut~?"

"But if I do need help, you will be the first one I call."

"Aw, thank you~!"

--------------------------------------------------

"Is Jaune going to call again tonight?"

"Mhm."

"You should really tell him the truth, you know."

"Mm."

"Will you at least tell him his grandma loves him?"

"...'course, honey."

--------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Grandpa!" Jaune said into his earpiece.

"Evenin', Jaune," his grandfather replied, "you just missed your grandma. She love you, y'know."

"I know, Grandpa, and I love her, too."

"So, what mischief are you up to tonight?"

"I'm not up to any mischief, Grandpa." Jaune answered. It wasn't so much mischief tonight as it was a misdemeanor. Or maybe it was a felony. He hoped it was the former.

"Oh, really? So there's no plan to break into police headquarters at all?" Jaune was quiet all of a sudden. "I'm retired, Jaune, but I still have friends on the force. They said there was a kid who went wandering away from his class. I take it that was you?"

"Um... I please the fifth?"

"Plead, Jaune, and that's only in court. Y'ain't been arrested yet." The two Arcs shared a laugh. "Speakin' of pleasin', any chance of you bringing a girl over for the holidays?"

"I'm not really looking for a date, Grandpa."

"And that's why you're up to mischief in the middle of the night. Wouldn't happen if you had a girl to keep you company."

"That's not true."

"Oh, yeah? Where's your roommate?"

"He's back in the dorm, hanging out with his-" Jaune stopped talking, partially because he was unsure of the two's relationship status, and also because he knew he was walking into a trap. He didn't need spider-sense to see that. "Back in the dorm."

"Uh-huh. Y'know, I hear there's a vigilante group out there. Maybe you could join up with them?"

"Really? This is the first I'm hearing about it."

--------------------------------------------------

"I'm in." Black softly said as Pyrrha dropped in behind them. "...Roger." They turned to their red-headed pupil. "Your form could use some work."

"Any pointers?" Pyrrha asked.

Black placed a finger to their covered mouth. Pyrrha's eyes widened and pursed her own mouth shut. Down below, a few police officers milled about, working the late shift on little more than coffee. Pyrrha followed behind Black, noting how they walked with big strides starting on the heel and rolling to their toes. Pyrrha noted how her costume, no longer her normal fit of just red goggles and a cape and now tightly hugging fit of a red body suit covered by light yet sturdy polymer that flexed as she moved, all courtesy of Black's partner, Fencer.

Fencer, for their part, seemed much more animated than Black, making gestures and vocally exasperating. They wore a white fencing outfit that made her digitally camouflaged while moving, completed by a shaded helmet and voice modifier. She was polite to Pyrrha, but would often chide the other members, notably the other two on communications with Black. She'd yet to meet them, but Pyrrha assumed she had yet to earn her keep on the team. Less chance of exposing everyone that way.

Black came to a stop at a corner, holding up her hand with the palm facing out. A low growl came from them, putting Pyrrha at unease. She leaned a bit closer out and saw someone moving around in the evidence room. Black gave Pyrrha a glance then shifted her hand into a pointing two fingers and waved the pointed digits at door. Pyrrha nodded and approached.

Getting close to the door, she tenderly touched the door handle.

--------------------------------------------------

'Spider-sense going off?' Jaune thought, his body tensing. 'But I don't see anyone.'

Jaune knew better than to doubt his ability and ducked down.

He'd found what he needed already. Since the murder was recent, Snipe Hunt's evidence was readily available. The bullets found at the scene of the crime came from a 500 magnum, more hand-cannon than pistol, but still easy to carry concealed. His grandpa had one, and he even let Jaune fire a couple rounds. Guns were never his thing anyways. It couldn't have been him, but who else could have fired a gun like this? This was a question to ask later when he wasn't under attack.

"No point in hiding." A familiar voice came. "We already got your little friend."

'Little friend?' Jaune thought. Nobody was with Jaune when he came in. That meant...

"I'm gonna count to three, and I want you to walk out, nice and slow. One. Two."

Jaune opened the door, finding the man from before holding a tied-up woman under his boot. She was wearing a red cape, red bodysuit, and red goggles. The only thing that wasn't red was the light brown armor on her chest. Keeping his hands up, he pushed the door and walked out.

"Oh, so you're that vigilante that's been skulking around lately?" The man said with a bemused grin. "Was wondering when I'd get to see ya." He pressed down on the woman, making her grunt. The wire wrapped around her pulled taut, making her whine.

"Stop!" Jaune stepped forward, holding his hand out.

"Stop?"

"Look-" Before Jaune could speak any further, he felt something tug against his leg.

"Look? Stop and look? Sounds like something you should have done a long time ago."

Spider-sense throbbed like crazy. It felt like there was danger everywhere now. He noticed a gleam and realized there was wire everywhere, thin strands all closing in on him. Keeping his arms up, he was ironically nabbed in a web like spider silk. However, the way in which was caught only surrounded his upper body, thanks to him ducking just in time with one leg bent and the other extended behind him. It started to burn as muscle began to stretch like they hadn't been before.

"Hm." The man hummed. "Wasn't expecting you to be that quick." Jaune pushed himself to both feet, wires sliding up and digging into his gut. "Good thing I've got a friend who's quicker."

Jaune charged, arms held up to cover his face, only to be knocked down by something moving as fast as lightning. He rolled on the ground and stood up, only to be knocked down again. Roll, stand, knock down. He rolled a third time, stood a third time, and turned on his heel catching the lightning bolt off-guard. Turning his body in mid-air, he crashed into the woman in the white uniform from before.

"Get off me!" She shouted, trying to push Jaune off. In the struggle, the wires slid up over Jaune's arms but caught themselves on each other, making the strands tighter and harder to move than before. Jaune suddenly felt his spider-sense go off again, this time focusing on behind. He tried to move, but the woman underneath him kept him held in place.

SHIKT-KREEEEEE!

Something sharp tore through Jaune's bindings, almost digging into his suit. He heard an awful screech against the back-plate of his armor. However, this was Jaune's chance as shoved both arms out, smashing his fists into the woman's chest, knocking her hard into the ground and Jaune to his feet.

"Finally, some breathing room." Jaune sighed. "Next time, try pizzas WITHOUT anchovies."

The woman, furious, spun to her feet and bolted for Jaune. However, as she charged head-to-head, he was able to dodge to the side. There was a loud crash as the woman tripped over something and slammed into the wall. He looked behind him and winced.

"Sorry about that." He offered to the unconscious woman. He turned his attention to the man in white. "So, was that enough for you?"

"Yeah, it was."

"Huh?" Then the man let go of the wire and backed away from the vigilante woman. The wires came loose enough for her to pull off. "That's it? You're just... letting us go?"

"Yeah. I've seen enough." He reached to his collar and spoke into it. "This is Specialist Ebi. Exercise complete. Recovering Specialist Bree for treatment." There was a beep and a response from the other side of the radio. "Looks like it's your lucky day, kid." The man known as Ebi said as he walked over to the woman known as Bree. "But that lucks gonna run out in about three days."

"Three days?" The red woman said. "What happens in three days?"

"Nothing too special, but, uh, if I were you, I'd hang up those costumes and let the big kids have their fun."

"Big kids?" Jaune asked. The woman then gasped.

"Atlas..."

"Lucky guess." He picked up Bree. "Hopefully your luck keeps rolling. Because eventually," he turned the corner, but not before saying, "your luck's gonna run out."

Jaune stood there, his body tense. There was no spider-sense to warn him of danger. No, this fear was something far away, yet close enough to bypass his senses. Shivering out his fear, he reached down and helped up the woman.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." She said. "He just... caught me by surprise."

"Careful with the puns." Jaune jokingly warned. "I know... a guy who likes puns enough to fight for them."

"I'm sure you do." She brushed herself off. "You seem... familiar. Have we met before?"

"Uh, nope, I can't say I've ever met a woman in a red skinsuit." Then a thought came to his head. "Say, uh, do you want to team up? This Atlas thing in three days might be some big trouble. Y'know, strength in numbers and all that?"

"Well-"

"Red." Jaune turned to see his 'friend' from the bank.

"Oh. So you're with them?"

"Do you... know each other?" The woman asked.

"Now." The figure growled.

"I'll... let you go." Jaune stepped away. Walking down the hall to the room with the window he entered. Along the way, he passed the mysterious figure in black. "Go easy on her. It's her first day, right?" Jaune got a glare in response, making him walk faster.

--------------------------------------------------

"And what happened next?" Nora asked, interrupting herself to scrub her teeth.

"Then Black was quiet for 20 minutes." Pyrrha said, from the doorway. "You ever have that friend who's mad at you, but doesn't say anything to let you know they're mad?"

Nora spat into the sink. "Nope~! Renny and me are so close, we can practically read each other's minds~!"

"I can almost believe that." Pyrrha said with a giggle. Her mind then began to wander. The vigilante who saved her. He was sturdy, but there was also a kindness to him. Something of a gentle giant. A smile crept to her face as she imagined teaming up with him.

"Ooh~! Thinking about Jaune again~?"

"Huh?" Pyrrha blinked. "Er, y-yes. Yes, I think I was."

[hazelfoureyes]

The Big Part

Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut

(part 2)

You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.

warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words

Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan

minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut

It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?

For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.

You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.

“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.

“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.

Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.

“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.

His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.

“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.

Alastor nodded.

You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”

His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?

“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”

You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”

“Take it where?”

You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.

Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.

“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.

“Oh. I wasn’t-,”

“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.

It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.

“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”

“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?

“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.

You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”

He nodded. Maybe this was a mistake.

After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?

Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.

“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.

“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.

“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”

Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.

“Show me.”

All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.

Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.

A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.

Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.

“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”

You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.

He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”

You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.

But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.

Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.

“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.

“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”

“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.

He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.

It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.

“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”

You nodded.

“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.

Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.

Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.

“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.

“Full, so full.”

His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”

You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.

His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.

Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.

“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.

You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.

“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.

“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.

You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”

Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.

The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.

“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”

You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”

“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.

More. You could take more, he was positive of it.

Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.

Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.

Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.

“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”

He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.”

Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.

No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.

His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.

Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.

“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.

“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.

That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?

You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.

Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”

“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”

You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.

His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”

I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖

༻Masterlist༺

Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC De-Aged Triplets and Their Tired Single Sister

Jason has seen the four of them a couple of times in Crime Alley now. They looked like a family, what with similar facial features- err, actually, the kids looked like carbon copies of each other, but their mom/sister/aunt/cousin looked similar enough to be related to them by blood.

Normally, Jason didn't care for each and every family that moved into Crime Alley. Sure, he cared about all of them as a whole, but there were a lot of people, and he couldn't possibly get elbow deep in every life story he came across. So all he knew about them were three things: a) they were on the run from someone or something, b) they trusted each other and no one else, and c) apparently, they have made it their life goal to never make any kind of sense.

The list of shit they have gotten into included but was not limited to:

• one of the kids biting a gun. Not the hand of the attacker who was holding it, no, the actual gun. And he bit a piece of it clean off, which earned him - or her, actually, Jason knew one of the triplets was a girl but he couldn't tell them apart - a lecture from their... mom? sister? parental figure. The lecture was about how chewing metal does not help with iron deficiency.

• getting kidnapped and creeping out their kidnapper to the point of him returning the kids back home. A few witnesses said one of the kids was actually driving, sitting on the kidnappers lap behind the steering wheel and cheerfully commanding the man to speed up or brake. Their mom actually apologized to the kidnapper for the incident and offered him homemade cookies for his troubles. He ran away without them.

• driving a lady at the laundromat insane by repeatedly walking inside and climbing into one of the washing machines. They never got out of it, just one kid walking into the laundromat, climbing into washing machine, then another kid, looking exactly like the previous one, walking inside, climbing into the same washing machine, then another kid walking into the laundromat- well, you get the idea. The lady claimed she's seen at least five kids do that in a row, but when she looked into that washing machine, there was no one inside.

• casually falling out of windows. Or, better, walking out of them like they were doors, at any given opportunity. The witness - an old man who was helping their mom with groceries - said the mom did not care in the slightest, and when he asked her about it, obviously concerned, she just said, tired and exasperated, 'they like the feeling of free fall, don't worry, they'll come back in a minute'. Sure enough, they did, not a scratch on them. The family lived on the sixth floor.

• eating insane amounts of food. Jason personally witnesses their mom give them her wallet, telling the kids, 'eat until you're full', and promptly passing out on the table, her head on her arms. The kids then proceeded to eat four whole pizzas, three burgers each, then seven brownies and at least five cups of soda. What was interesting about it was not only the amount of food they ate but the way they never left their mom unattended, one of the kids always staying beside her sleeping figure as the other two went to order.

And now, all four of them were standing in front of him. Not Jason Todd him, but Red Hood him. And he was... confused.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, can you watch them for a few hours? Three, maybe four," the mom, Jazz as she introduced herself, was looking at him like it was he who was speaking nonsense, not her. Because asking a crime lord to watch three kids in the middle of the night is not something a sane person would do.

"Why?" He asks, bewildered, because what the fuck else is he supposed to say?

"I need to kill a man, and if they come with me, it will take three times longer," Jazz tells him. Is she saying the kids slow her down or what? Jason can admit he's never been this confused in his entire life.

"You could ask me to kill a man, while you stay with them, no?" He tries to reason, but the girl waves him off:

"No, that will take even longer. Besides, no offense, but you kill people to simply end their life, and I need that man to fucking stop existing forever."

What's the difference he almost wants to ask. But instead of that, he just sighs.

"Why me? I'm sure you could find a babysitter-"

"No babysitter will handle them. The last one told me they have been running laps on the ceiling, which is, actually, not that big of a deal. They are kids. Kids like running around," she huffs, and Jason suspects she is missing the point here, but okay. He gets why babysitters are not an option.

"You do understand what they can witness if they stay here?" He asks, as the last attempt to reason with the girl, but she just nods and leans down, making all the kids turn to her.

"Okay, you menaces, tell me what not to do while you're staying with Mr. Red Hood."

"No eating people," one kid starts.

"No driving people insane," the other one continues.

"No, um, stealing eyeballs," the third one finishes, and what the fuck are those ground rules? Is this girl a mother to eldrith horrors? That would explain some shit.

Jazz turns to him, "See? They're all good."

In what world is that good? Jason debates if he should start running now or when she leaves.

"Do they have names?" He asks instead. The girl nods:

"Danny." His surprise must be evident even through the mask because she sighs and points to each kid, "Diane, Daniel, Dante. Dani, Danny, and Dan. Actually, you know what, let's make this easier," she rummages through her bag and gets a marker out before gesturing to the kids, "Come here."

As they do, she proceeds to draw numbers 1, 2, and 3 on their foreheads. Then she nods to Hood and puts the marker away.

"Okay, that's better. Behave, you monsters, I'll be back soon!"

After she leaves, Jason looks down at the kids. They also look at him, eerie and unblinking.

Finally, one of them - number 2, Dani, if he is not mistaken - asks:

"Do you want teeth? We have a lot."

"She doesn't mean her teeth," number 1 clarifies, "She means other teeth."

...This is going to be some very long three hours.

[selfcarecap]

Cat & Dog [L.H.]

✧ Logan Howlett x kitty hybrid!reader

✧ summary: Logan rescues you, a kitty hybrid, on a mission and you become infatuated with him. (that’s all the plot you get, the rest is porn lol <3)

✧ warnings: smut 18+, unequal power dynamics bc Logan saves reader (and she’s a bit naive and inexperienced), kitty hybrid!reader (human with kitty ears, a tail, claws and kind of fangs and she purrs), reader’s first time, unprotected piv, oral sex, Logan teases reader a lot, slight daddy kink (like two mentions – still figuring out whether i like it for Logan), implied age gap, pet names (baby, bub, kid (not during sex), sweetheart, kitty — at first mockingly but then not), reader making biscuits on Logan w/ her claws lol, slight pain kink, Logan teaches reader about consent, uh i ignored that the reader’s probably gone through some trauma lool, Logan is indifferent to reader’s feelings for him at first but it changes, reader wears Logan’s hoodie; alternative summary that i thought was too cringe to use: Logan’s a nasty dog and you’re his pretty kitty. 

✧ word count: 5.2k

Logan Howlett is your saviour — the most handsome hero to ever exist.

He finds you on a mission, abandoned like the runt of the litter. The only reason he knows you’re still alive as he carefully approaches you, curled into a ball, is because his strengthened senses allow him to hear your dull heartbeat, and the matted tail at your lower back bristles when you hear him come closer.

“I’ll get you out of here, kid. You’re safe now,” he says, telling you his name and that he’s part of the X-Men. You turn slightly at the sound of one of his claws unsheathing, and watch him use it to pick the lock of the cage you’re being held in.

He opens the door and takes more steps backwards than necessary, “There you go.” 

You’d be able to dart straight past him and escape. You trust him. He smells different from the men that locked you in here, too. Sure, he smells a bit doggish, or like a wolf maybe, but he’s sweaty from fighting men to get to you so you’re not going to complain.

You slowly crawl through the cage door on all fours, feeling his eyes rake over your body. You don’t know why he’s staring – apart from your tail, and, sure, your ears, you have the body of a human – but you don’t mind it. You immediately feel warm in his presence. Everything is about to get better, all thanks to him.

He carries you in his arms when you’re too weak to even stand and you’ve never felt as peaceful and protected as when he holds you, and you cling to him with all the energy you have left. You can’t help but hiss when he puts you down in the seat next to him instead of in his lap to get you home.

-

It’s now been two weeks since you last saw Logan. He gave you his zip hoodie to keep you warm as soon as you got to the mansion and he didn’t leave your side until you were safely in the infirmary. You wish he never left.

They’re insisting on keeping you in here to heal, ignoring every time you ask for Logan. You feel healthy – they’ve even made your tail all pretty and fluffy again – so you take it upon yourself to find him.

You sneak out of the infirmary late at night, and all you have to do to find Logan is follow your senses.

Once you’ve located his room, you push the door open without any thought. He’s in bed but he’s still awake. The light on his nightstand casts a glow over the room and you smile when you finally see him again.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asks, sitting up slightly. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, and you eye the muscles from his chest down to his abdomen, noticing the delicious layer of hair he has all over.

“Can’t sleep,” you take a step over the threshold, holding onto the door shyly.

Logan smiles, more to himself, “Was wondering when I’d see you again, bub.”

“Was waiting for you to come visit me,” you pout. You jut out your hip to one side, your tail curling upwards and peeking out behind your legs. You’re showing off. Last time he saw your tail, it was all tattered, but now it’s soft and bouncy again. You see Logan looking at it, smiling slightly, but he doesn’t compliment it like you hoped.

“We barely know each other. It’s nothing personal, kid. It was a standard mission. Anyone from our team could have got you first.” It stings that he doesn’t find your bond as special as you do, but you don’t mind if you have to do some convincing. He’s worth it.

“But we do know each other,” you close the door and make your way to his bed, “You saved me. I wouldn’t be alive without you. I just want to show you my appreciation.” You’re at the foot of his bed, crawling onto it on all fours. You’d never normally be this blunt but you can’t help yourself around him. Your need for him has taken over your entire being in the last two weeks. 

You watch him taking you in. Your movements are sensual and sleek – feline. You know he’s never been with someone like you, and you’re happy for him to take his time if he needs it. Perching on his bed, between his spread legs, you slowly unzip the hoodie of his that you’re still wearing.

His eyes follow the languid movement as you drag the zipper down, revealing your simple black top underneath. It clings to your skin in all the right places in the same way that your soft, tight, black shorts do.

“Looks good on you,” he nods towards the hoodie.

“Do you want me to keep it on?” You ask, but he shakes his head, smiling. 

“It’ll look better off.”

You unzip it fully, throwing it to the side of the bed. 

“Can I stay with you?” you lean over him. He’s about to open his mouth, and you have a feeling he’s going to tell you no.

“Please,” you cut him off.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he huffs, moving to give your ears a light scratch, “you can stay for a bit”. He’s intrigued enough to let you stay – you can hear it in his elevated heartbeat – and you don’t mind if curiosity is the only reason he’s keeping you with him for now. 

He paws at your fluffy ears, almost groping you, unsure how to treat you, but you haven’t been touched there in so long that it feels like heaven anyway.

“Who’s a good kitty?” he mocks as he gets the sweet spot behind your ear, but you don’t realise he’s teasing you, pushing your head further against his hand in bliss as you begin to purr. 

Logan isn’t sure how you’re making the noise, but it turns him on. He wants to hear more of it, “Well, don’t you sound pretty?” 

Your purring intensifies. You move down his body and settle over his legs, your head in his lap as his hand stays on your head. It’s then that Logan realises he’s already half-hard. The only reason he let you in was because he’s sexually intrigued by you, your cute demeanour and that fluffy tail somehow doing it for him. But he wasn’t planning on actually doing anything — not until now.

Your face is mere inches from his cock and he’s starting to ache to do something about it, getting harder. You’re still trying to find the most comfortable position as you rub your cheek across his lap like a little cat. You stop when you feel his erection.

“Are you hard?” you ask bluntly, eyes all wide. 

“I am, bub.”

“For me?” you purr quietly.

“All for you.” Logan tips his head to the side, waiting to see your reaction. He can tell that whatever you’re asking him next is taking you a bit more courage. He watches you gnaw on your lip all cutely.

“I’ve never seen a cock before…” you confess, and Logan stifles a laugh.

“Y’wanna?” He surprises himself when he says it. At first, he thought your affection was simply that of the saved towards her saviour, or familial maybe, but he’s not mad at this. 

Logan gets fully hard as you nod at him in such awe, your tail curling around his bare leg, and it’s even softer than it looks.

He pushes his boxers down just enough to pull out his cock, jerking himself off for just a few seconds to get some friction. You’re staring at it as you move your legs back, instinctively arching your back with your ass up. 

Your tail bobs behind you Logan can’t resist giving it a light tug, curling his finger around it. “Mmh,” you huff, pulling your tail away by instinct.

“Sorry, kitty,” he chuckles, “just wanted to feel it.” Your cheeks warm at his confession and you move your tail back in the direction of his hand so he can reach for it when he wants to. Your tail is your pride and you won’t let just anyone touch it – Logan’s the exception. He can gladly dominate you by tugging at your tail all day if he wants. 

He smiles as he touches your tail again, letting it glide through his fist from the bottom to the tip of your fur. “Such a pretty kitty,” he hums as he bites his lip. 

Hearing that he likes it pleases you more than you would’ve thought and you begin to purr again. You’re not exactly sure how to go down on a man, but you let your intuition guide you as you lower your face to press a wet kiss to the tip of Logan’s cock.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you back up by the scruff of your neck.

“Ah-ah. Manners, bub. You gotta ask first, you don’t know that?” Logan scolds.

His expression goes soft as you shake your head all sadly and apologetically, “‘S okay, kitty. I’ll teach you. Say please.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You look at him as you get back up on all fours, leaning close to his face. You want to kiss him so bad but you gather you’re not allowed to do that without asking either. 

“Please can I kiss you, daddy?” you ask.

Logan is surprised, not unpleasantly, at the word, “Where’d you get that from?” 

You shrug, and even that movement is fluid and smooth. “Just wanted to call you that. ‘S that okay?” You slur, head already clouded with pleasure and Logan.

He nods and places his hand back on your neck, pulling you towards him as your face reaches his in a searing kiss. He’s hungry for you, devouring you with his mouth and tongue and teeth immediately. His hand glides down your spine and to the side of your ass, grabbing you there. 

You purr against his lips as his other hand squeezes the flesh at your waist, and the vibration feels so good to him. You lower yourself against him so you’re chest to chest, and your belly rubs against his cock as some of his precum spills between you two, rubbing up against your skin and dripping onto his own abs.

Logan gently pulls you off, “Be a good girl and suck daddy’s dick now, alright?” You nod so adorably it makes his heart clench – you’re so eager to please him, all wide-eyed as you get between his legs, your ass up in the air.

On your way down, you give tiny licks to his skin; your tongue is all over his chest hair and his happy trail. Your tongue glides through his pubic hair, ignoring his throbbing cock, and you make your way to his thighs. He watches you lick through the dark hair there, and he realises what you’re doing. 

You’re acting like a cat, taking care of him. You’re bonding with him, and grooming him. He lets you do it some more, but it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore how hard he is, leaking precum. He slides a hand down to his dick, jerking off right next to your face.

“Mhh,” you pout, pushing his hand away with your head and giving him a cross look.

He smirks, “you gonna start sucking at some point then, baby?” It’s not that he doesn’t like you playing around but he’s getting desperate. He places a hand on your face to make you look at him.

“I don’t know how to.” Your cheeks are hot under his touch. 

Logan smiles, “Start with kisses. Or lick, like you’ve been doing.”

You nod and curl your tail around his knee, your hands to the sides of his hips. You press a wet kiss to the underside of his cock and Logan sighs in pleasure; you immediately want to hear more of it. You press quick kisses all over him, remembering what he said about using your tongue.

You begin to lick all over his dick, his balls too, until you’re drooling over him. But he’s stopped making pretty sounds and you’re not sure what you’re doing wrong. You hear a quiet chuckle from above you.

“Come up here,” Logan says. You sit up and straddle his waist. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth.

“Like this,” he tells you, taking one of your fingers between his lips. He wets it with his spit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue moving over your fingertip. You grin – you like the look of it. You like the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks on your finger, wishing your hands were as big as his.

As you move to push another finger past his lips, Logan takes your wrist. “Uh-uh. Your turn, kitty.” 

You pout but then feel his hard cock against your ass, your tail brushing it, and you get excited. 

“And none of those sharp teeth,” Logan tells you as you move down his body again. You bare your smile to him, letting your fangs retract. They’re a special part of you and you’re glad you could finally show them off to someone who deserves to see. Logan awards your little show with a grin. 

“Good girl.” Those words make you put your mouth on him immediately, swallowing him down your throat as deeply as you can. You pull away when you almost gag, heat spreading over your face, but Logan is unbothered.

You settle between his legs as you press a few more open-mouthed kisses to his cock with spit-slicked lips. You take the tip in your mouth, staying for a bit as you suck on it, spit dripping down his length and over your lips.

You start purring when you take him a little deeper, and Logan’s breath catches in his throat when you do, the vibration turning him on even more.

“Keep doing that,” he mumbles absent-mindedly, eyes on you but mind evidently gone. You smile around his cock, moving your mouth up and down as the spit begins to make a crude sound against your lips, but you like it. You’re feeling more and more of an urge to touch yourself between your legs, but you want to make Logan feel good first.

Your purring gets louder as you take him even deeper, and Logan lets out a sharp gasp. You pull your mouth off him, wondering if you’ve hurt him, sliding your tongue over your teeth to make sure the sharp fangs aren’t out.

Following Logan’s eyes, you see what you’ve done. Your claws have come out, and you’ve been scratching his thighs open. You feel tears prick your eyes as you bend down to lick over the wounds apologetically, wondering in awe as they heal up immediately.

“Don’t worry, just surprised me. You won’t hurt me.”

“Sorry, ‘s just how I show that I like you. Don’t wanna let you go”, you hang your head low in shame despite his words.

“It’s okay, kitty,” he lightly scratches at your ear, making you purr and forget all about hurting him, “Do your worst.”

You’re not sure if he’s teasing you. “Know they’re not as big as yours.”

Logan huffs, taking a hand away from you, pressing his elbow into the bed and his claws come shooting out. You only saw one of them briefly, when he saved you. They’re majestic up close and in all their glory, glinting against the low light. 

You reach out, “Pretty.” Logan smiles at your sparkling eyes, but retracts his claws before you can touch them.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

You give him the meanest look you can muster for not letting you touch, sinking your own, much tinier, claws into his abs to hurt him. But Logan lets out a soft moan instead, and you marvel at the pleasure he takes in the pain, forgetting all about why you’re mad at him.

Your eyes light up when you realise he likes you scratching him open. It’s a dream come true – someone who likes the way you show affection. You bite your lip as you scratch over his abs, his hips, and his thighs, watching as the wounds close up just before you draw blood. You hook your tiny claws into the flesh of his thighs as you wrap your lips around his cock again.

Logan lets out a string of moans as you have your claws in him and your mouth on him. You begin to purr, and with the way his cock flexes in your mouth you know he’s close.

“Just a little more for me, can you do that, baby?” he gently nudges your head down some more, and with the praise coming from his lips you can definitely take him – you feel like you could do anything.

“Yeah, just like that.” Logan’s voice gets shaky as you take his cock deeper, spit running down to his balls as you take almost all of him in your warm, wet mouth. 

You swallow everything Logan gives you as he cums in your mouth, shooting strings of his warm load down your throat. You don’t stop until he’s gently pulling you off him, and you look up at him.

“Again,” you plead, eyes wide, taking in how his cock is still hard.

Logan chuckles, “Don’t get used to the idea of that. Most men can’t go more than once.” 

You look at him strangely – what do other men matter to you? Before you can ask, Logan manhandles you into a different position, and you don’t notice until then that you’ve been grinding your clothed pussy against his knee, and you whine at the loss of contact.

You’re on your knees as Logan gets up to fully remove his boxers, and you see the skin at his knee glistening from where you’ve soaked it. The sight makes your cheeks heat up but also makes you press your thighs together.

He’s standing in front of you like a god, and you put a hand on his thigh to suck his cock again. Before your mouth can reach him, he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Your turn now, kitty.”

“Oh,” you say as he lies you on your back.

“Gonna play with you now. Can I take this off?” he’s holding the bottom of your top, and you nod as he pulls it off you. Logan gets on the bed again, taking in the sight of you half-naked. You’ve never felt so good about yourself. He looks as if he’s seen God herself.

“Look at you, kitty, so fucking pretty,” he whispers more to himself, touching and kissing you there as his knees sink into the mattress. You arch your back when he wraps his lips around your nipple, and the action makes your pussy rub up against him. He looks down between your thighs, pushing his mouth there.

You’re not wearing any underwear, so his face against your thin shorts makes you squirm. “Smell so good,” he breathes, rubbing his nose up against your clit. It makes you moan.

He begins to pull down your pants, stopping as they catch on your tail. The nurses cut a hole into the back of the material for it, and your cheeks glow when Logan carefully pulls your sensitive tail out of the way before he slides your shorts all the way down your legs, spreading them to get a look of you afterwards.

“Look at you, kitty. Prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen,” you miss his joke, placing your feet on Logan’s broad shoulders, as he says “Can I?”

You’re appalled that he even has to ask, pushing his head down between your legs. 

He begins to eat you like a man starved, moaning against your skin at the taste of your wet pussy. He doesn’t even tease you, licking through all your wetness, licking over your clit in circles.

Logan pushes two fingers in without any preparation, but you still feel too empty, grinding your hips against him. 

“I got you,” he promises, lapping up all of you, “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He grabs one of your thighs, holding it so that you don’t squeeze his ears any more. Your knees are still pressing against his temples, but he doesn’t mind them there. He can feel you tremble when he licks and sucks and when he curls his fingers.

Logan has you cumming on his tongue quickly, sucking on your clit until you’re seeing stars, whining for him to stop. He pulls his lips off you, sitting up to push his fingers into your mouth.

“You taste good, huh?” he smirks as you suck your own arousal off him, humming around his fingers in agreement. He slowly fucks his fingers into you again, bringing them up to his own lips. He moves his hand between your legs again, fingers going over the hair above your pussy.

“You’re so soft here, kitty,” he says, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek against your pubic hair, making you giggle.

You’re still wet, and he’s still hard, and you don’t want to be too direct but you want to know when he’s finally going to fuck you. You tell him “I’ve never done this before either,” hoping he’ll catch what you’re getting at.

He places a kiss above your pussy, into the soft hair, smirking up at you and kneeling between your spread thighs, “I know. I’ll go slow.”

“Don’t want you to go slow,” you mumble, watching his eyes darken a bit.

“Don’t say that to me. Y’don’t know what you’re saying.” 

You don’t reply, smiling to yourself. He is big – very big – you remind yourself, but you still want him to be rough with you if that’s what he needs. You want him to use you. But maybe you should wait before you tell him that.

Logan wraps a hand around his cock, fucking his fist for a few moments before he leans down to rub the tip against your clit. You mewl at the sensation, ready for more.

“You sure?” he asks, head already beginning to push in.

“Yeah,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Logan pushes himself halfway in, both of you moaning with pleasure. The stretch already stings, but you tell him you want more.

“So fucking tight for me, baby,” he grunts as he fucks into you deeper, bottoming out with an almost pathetic groan that makes you smile through the slight pain.

“You’re so big,” you moan, leaning your head back against his pillow.

“I know. Think you can take me?” he kisses up the side of your neck, hand sneaking between your bodies to play with your clit.

“Yes–yeah. I want you.”

“That’s a good kitty,” he whispers from above you, beginning to thrust into you slowly, rocking your whole body with his movement. He feels so big in your pussy, but you like the feeling of being stretched out for him. Even if it hurts, you want him to take what he needs.

It helps when your claws come out, scratching at his back to relieve some of the pain.

“Hurt me, baby. Hurt me as much as you need,” he moans into your ear, fucking into you at a bit of a rougher pace. You sink your claws into him, feeling how you draw tiny drops of blood from his big muscles, dragging your fingertips down his shoulders and over his big arms.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan moans against your mouth, kissing you sloppily, thrusts becoming messy, and you grunt in a mix of pain and pleasure that feels so good. He looks down at you, hips getting slower as he takes your tail in his hand.

“Does your tail hurt like this?” he asks, tugging at it lightly. You’re lying on your tail, technically, but it doesn’t hurt. You shake your head. Still, Logan tips your hips to the side a bit, lifting your thigh to fuck you sideways. But this way you can’t reach his back, and you don’t like not being able to squeeze around him with your thighs.

“Wanna sit on top,” you say, and he pulls away to look at you, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“You can’t take me like that yet, bub. Trust me.”

“M-mh,” you mumble, and with a bite to his lip Logan lifts his hands in defeat, slipping out of you and obeying you. He flips you around so that he’s on his back and you straddle him.

His dick looks bigger when you hold it in your hand, raising yourself to your knees to line him up with your pussy. Logan chuckles and you smile too, but you want to show him that you can take him.

You struggle to even get the angle right because you have to sit up so high, but when you’ve got the tip in your pussy, you just slowly lower yourself, hands leaning on Logan’s chest.

“Go slow, baby,” Logan says, suddenly gentle, seeing the pain on your features as he goes deeper. His fingers draw circles on your hips and on your ass, and he almost cums from the way you moan when he won’t fit in all the way in this position. He reaches out to rub at your fluffy ears, loving the way you lean into his touch, purring again.

“Sounds so pretty when you do that.” He’s less and less sure about the thing he said earlier, telling you not to get used to him, about you fucking other men. He’s not sure it’ll be relevant after all. He’s going to keep you all to himself.

“Hurts so bad,” you moan, pussy straining around him.

“Then stop. Y’don’t have to,” Logan coos, pulling you up by your hips but you take his hands off you.

“Don’t wanna stop. Wanna cum.” You grind your hips against Logan’s, his cock pulsing inside you. It drives him fucking crazy seeing you struggling to take him, fucking yourself stupid in his lap nevertheless.

He rubs his thumb over your clit, in circles to match the movement of your hips on him.

“Lo–Logan,” you moan, hands back on his chest as you start to fuck him again, your claws coming out against his chest to scratch him there, and he revels in it.

“Yeah, that’s it, kitty. Don’t stop,” he keeps playing with your clit, starting to become breathless himself as your pussy squeezes around his cock.

You cum with a whimper so animalistic it sets off his own orgasm, pulsing his cum into your pussy that clenches around him hard. Logan’s hand on your hip helps you grind on him as the pleasure spreads through your body and he’s grabbing at your flesh.

You come down from your highs together, a fucked out smile on your lips as you bend down to kiss Logan. He pulls you off his cock, not wanting you to hurt any more, but from the way you kiss him back lazily, hurt is the last thing you are.

“Did such a good job for me,” Logan tells you, holding onto your face, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, “Didn’t mind it,” and you kiss him again, liking the way he devours you like a hungry animal every time his lips are on you.

As he’s kissing you fervently, with tongue and spit, you let your fangs come out, nicking his bottom lip carefully. He hisses into your mouth, and you draw two drops of blood – one for each tooth – before the wounds heal shut.

Logan grins, “Feisty kitty,” he squeezes you at the waist, making you giggle.

“See, you like pain and I like it too.”

Logan hums at your words, hand moving up to play with one of your ears. You move to lie down on your side, Logan turning to face you. You watch him.

“Can I stay?” you ask shyly, quietly, and he doesn’t understand the man he was only an hour ago. How could he not want you entirely? He hates that he made you feel unsure for even a second.

“Of course, bub. You’re staying with me from now on.” You purr at his words, cuddling into him. 

He puts his arm around you, holding you close as you begin to lick all over his face. He giggles as you make your way over his beard and his neck too, grooming him like a kitty. Your claws hook into the muscle of his arm and, as much as he enjoyed it during sex, this is definitely something he still has to get used to, gasping at the contact. The way you purr louder makes it more than worth it.

You’re pawing at his hair, smoothing it back into place from where you’ve messed it up. Logan closes his eyes from how good it feels. Suddenly, he hears you giggle.

“Your hair is kind of like kitty ears,” you grin.

He deadpans. “Don’t ever say that again.”

Your fluffy tail bounces up and sways a bit as you giggle mischievously. You pretend to zip your mouth shut but he knows he’s never hearing the end of that. Maybe he doesn’t even mind it coming from you.

“So, did you escape just to come see me or d’you get permission?” He asks, remembering how you’re probably not even supposed to be here. 

You panic for a second, beginning to sit up, but Logan holds you down, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here, kitty. Told you you’re staying with me. Would just be good to know if you’re making me break the rules.”

The way you smile at him sheepishly tells him everything he needs to know. He presses another kiss to your adorable face.

“You coulda told them you’re leaving. I’m sure they’ll be looking for you, bub,” he tells you. You turn around so that you’re spooning, with him at your back and your tail wrapped around his thigh.

“Hmpfh, don’t care,” you begin to purr, closing your eyes, “Just wanna be with my daddy.”

Logan wants the same. 

You don’t stop purring as you drift off to sleep, held safely in Logan’s arms.

-

P.S. Logan thinks that hot readers leave a reblog and a comment and let the writer know what they enjoyed about the fic <333 🫣🤭

[cozage]

It's me again, feel free to ignore this if you're only taking 1 request per person

Congrats on 2k followers ♡

I would like to request, option 1, the reader asking "can I give you a kiss? If you don't like it, you can can return it" with Zoro, Sanji and Luffy (if you can also with Law, Ace and/or Kid)

Thank you in advance, hope you have a lovely day ♡

Nonsense! If you send it in and I like it, I'll write it! This was a fun request too :) I would've done them all if I had the time <3

Characters: gn reader x Zoro, Sanji, Luffy Total word count: 740

Returned Kisses

Zoro

“Zoro!” you sang, skipping across the deck. “I have a question.”

Zoro groaned. Your questions were never as simple as you initially made them out to be. 

“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked, your cheeks turning a cute rose color. “If you don’t like it, I can return it!”

Zoro scowled at you, trying to decipher your strange slew of words. “How do you return a kiss?” he asked. He set down the weights he had been using, trying not to sound too interested. 

“I guess you’ll just have to see!”

His eyes scanned the ship. There was nobody else around. And he had to admit, he was curious how your lips tasted. 

“Make it quick, then.” He sighed, trying to act as if he were apathetic to the whole idea, but his pinkened cheeks did not go overlooked. 

Your lips pressed against his, and he could taste a distinct sugary sweetness Normally he hated sweets, but he found it quite enjoyable upon your lips. 

When you finally pulled away, he quickly wetted his own lips with his tongue, desperate to get another taste. 

“I think I’ll return it,” he said, looking at you. 

“Oh.” Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Not very good then, was-?”

He pushed his lips back against yours with a sort of desperation and hunger that you weren’t expecting, and your mouth fell open in surprise against his. He quickly pushed his tongue past your lips, hungry  for more of your sweetness. 

When he finally pulled away, he shot you a cocky smirk. “Maybe you should try again later. I might not return it next time.”

Sanji

“Sanji!” You opened the swinging door to the kitchen, searching for him. 

“Do you need something, my love?” he asked. “Whatever you want, I will gladly give you.”

“Great!” you smiled. “I was thinking I could give you something, though.”

“Me?” He looked around the room, trying to figure out what you meant. 

“Yeah! I was thinking I could give you a kiss,” you offered. “If you didn’t like it-Sanji!”

The poor cook had collapsed to the ground, sent into shock by your offer. He seemed to be mumbling and babbling words, but you couldn’t make them out. 

You knelt down next to him, pulling his head into your lap to make sure he was okay. 

“Oh, Y/N love,” he whispered, finally coming back to his senses. “I had this strange dream where you offered to kiss me.”

You laughed. “I did offer to kiss you.”

His eyes were suddenly clear now, and very focused on your lips. So you bent down and pressed them against his own. You could hear his breathing become shallow, but you steeled your nerves and stayed there for a moment before you pulled away. 

“If you don’t like it, you can return it,” you whispered. 

Sanji’s eyes were practically hearts as he stared up at you. “Can I still return it even if I did like it?”

You giggled, crinkling your nose as you laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Good!” He reached up and pulled you back down to him, keeping his lips pressed into yours until Luffy ran into the kitchen looking for more food. 

Luffy

“Luffy! Come here!” you called up to the captain. He was in his seat on the figurehead, like always. 

“You come here!” he yelled back. Rubber arms extended towards you and whipped you up next to him. “What’s up?”

“Can I give you a kiss?” you asked. “You can return it if-”

His lips smashed against yours, and you could feel his mouth stretching into a smile. You couldn’t help but smile too, your head foggy with giddiness at his willingness to say yes. 

He finally pulled away from you, his laugh filling the air around you. “That was nice.”

“I was supposed to give you a kiss, Luffy!” You were trying to scold him, but you couldnt wipe that stupid smile off your face. 

“Do you want to give me one?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “You can give me another one!”

You leaned back into another kiss, his arms already wrapped around your neck. He was trying not to be too eager, but once your fingers tangled into his raven locks, he abandoned all common sense and worked to devour as much of you as he could get.

[joontroverted]

of course other women want your boyfriend

pairing: nanami kento x reader

tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.

"your dad's kinda hot."

the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.

you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.

no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.

and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.

"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.

her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"

you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.

"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"

"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.

"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.

that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.

"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"

"there you are, sweetheart."

kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.

nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.

almost.

"ken!" you breathe.

"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"

"hey!"

his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"

"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.

"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"

"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.

"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.

"sweetheart, i think- "

you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.

"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"

"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.

"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."

she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.

kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.

"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"

aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.

you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.

"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."

his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.

deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.

kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.

"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."

warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.

"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.

aiko!

you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"

aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.

DO NOT REPOST

yay first fic!!!

likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷

[lovebugism]

could i request “mean” eddie and reader going swimming somewhere and maybe she’s in her swimsuit and someone says something that makes him jealous? also just want to say i love you writing sm!!! <3

hi, lovely! thanks so much for your request and your kind words!! i hope you like it xoxo (1.7k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Eddie can’t stop staring at you.

It’s not like it’s his fault, though. You’re all sprawled out beside him in a plastic lounge chair, clad only in a bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination. It’s an all-black number with little white bats all over it, clinging to you like it was made to do it.

It’s a wonder the two of you even made it to Hawkins Community Pool, honestly. Eddie's thoughts verge on obscene at the sight of you. But then again, they tend to when you're on his mind.

You lay with your hands folded above your head, totally surrendering yourself to the golden sunlight. It gives Eddie the opportunity to gaze at you fully — even though sometimes he thinks he’s already memorized you by now.

He analyzes you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you, like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see.

The pudge of the top of your breast spills over the hem of your bikini. The skin of your stomach bulges underneath your high-waisted bottoms. The fullness of your thighs begins to glow beneath the glittering daylight.

He commits all of this to memory and figures maybe that’s what the sun’s doing too, as it paints your skin more golden.

He doesn’t know how he got you. 

But he hopes your eyes are closed behind your thick glasses. Or, at the very least, that they block your view of him. Eddie knows he’s unabashedly staring at you, but he also knows he can’t stop. He doesn’t want his ogling to be met with your teasing — even if he is deserving of it.

The Lord of the Rings book in his hands goes quickly abandoned. It’s a feat he even made it to page fifty. He’s flipped through it enough times to memorize it, though. Sort of like you.

Like the novel, he could read you a million times and never get bored. The only real difference is he finds you much, much sexier than printed words on a page.

“I can feel you staring, you know?” 

Your voice jolts him from his stupor, light and golden like the slowly setting sun. Your words are nearly drowned out by the sounds of the bustling pool — screaming kids, splashing water, and people trying to converse over it all.

Eddie’s far too attuned to you not to hear you, though.

You’re not looking at him, but he can see the corner of your lip quirk in a slight half-smile.

“Can you?” he deadpans, turning back to his book like he hadn’t been looking at you at all.

The words are all mush, though. He’ll blame it on the stifling summer heat. He was the idiot out here in a black t-shirt and trunks, after all.

“Yeah,” you nod.

He sees your smile completely when you turn to look at him. The sun pierces through your amber lenses, making your eyes more visible beneath them. You’ve got one eye squinted to evade the blinding light. The beam you wear is somehow brighter.

“’S like spidey senses, you know? I can always tell when you’re looking at me, Munson.”

Eddie wants to be embarrassed at the thought. He knows that you’re joking — if only just the slightest bit — but it makes him think about all the other times he’s shamelessly gawked at you. He spent years doing it before you ever got together.

Many of his high school years were spent paying more attention to you than his homework. He thinks maybe that’s why he had such a hard time graduating.

“You’re saying my girlfriend’s a superhero?” the boy jokes, brows raised behind his curly bangs and chocolate eyes going wide. They look more golden in the sunlight, and they twinkle with mischief.

“Uh-huh,” you hum with a wider smile than before. “You didn’t know?”

He shakes his head. Some of his curls still stick to him, damp with the sweat beading on his milky skin. “No. I can confidently say that I didn’t.”

“Good. It was supposed to be a secret, anyway.”

Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does.

It’s a sharp exhale through his nose more than anything, paired with a crooked pink smile. He wishes he knew how much of a dork you were a year ago. He might’ve asked you out sooner.

“Brush up on your spidey senses before you go out patrolling the neighborhood, alright, Spiderwoman?” he jests in a monotone, turning the page of his book even though he hadn’t actually read it. “’Cause I totally wasn’t staring at you.”

You know he’s lying.

And it’s not just because you could feel it — even though you think his button-eyed gaze can be palpable in its attentiveness at times. But what you lacked in superhero senses, you made up for in awareness of all things Eddie Munson. 

You knew when he got quiet that he was in his own head. And being that you hadn’t heard a single page turn in several minutes, you figured his eyes must’ve been on something other than the book in his hands.

Your quip was hardly more than a lucky guess, really.

“Good,” you hum as you flip over onto your stomach. Your backside had been completely deprived of sunlight before now. You prop yourself up on your elbows and lift your sunglasses to the top of your head. Your teasing gaze is no longer amber-coated. “‘Cause that would mean you find me attractive.”

“And that would just be a travesty, wouldn’t it?” Eddie scoffs.

He looks over at you again and finds your changed position. Your back is pointed towards the sun now, the very bottom of your ass on full display. Your thighs are indented softly from the slatted chair beneath you.

He can’t pry his eyes off the combination of the two despite knowing you’re watching him right back.

“It’s okay if you have the hots for me, Eds,” you tell him, feigning sympathy. “I’d only make fun of you a little bit.”

Eddie stays silent for half a moment too long, then shakes his head to dismiss the thought. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. It’s just the heat.”

You scoff. “Yeah. Let’s blame the way you’re ogling at me on sunstroke.”

He still finds it a bit difficult to be your boyfriend sometimes — or just a boyfriend. And it’s not because of you. Not in the slightest. He just sort of put a wall around himself when he was younger. He’s been behind it so long he’s forgotten how to let people back in.  

And even though he hasn’t said it yet, he loves the goddamn shit outta you. But for some reason, he can’t let himself be vulnerable in that way — can’t even ask to touch you without coming up with some lame excuse that covers up all his vulnerable-ness.

“You, uh… You put sunscreen on, right?” he asks, shifting slightly in his chair. He spares a brief glance your way from the corner of his eye, halfway concealed by the fluffy brown curls framing his face.

“Yeah?” you answer with pinched brows. “Right after I forced you to put some on, remember?”

He scrunches his nose as he squints at you. It takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss the tip of it. “I don’t know,” the boy singsongs as he tilts his head to his shoulder. “I don’t remember it, actually…”

“Then maybe you’re the one that needs to get checked out, Eds.”

“I think I should just put some lotion on your back,” he summarizes with a shrug, already rising from his chair to swing his legs over the side of it. “You know, just to be safe.”

The teasing glint in his eyes makes you grin. You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to dim its brightness, lest how happy he makes you go to his head.

Your feet lift in their air and twist together with a girlish excitement. It makes your ass wiggle gently. Eddie swears you’re doing it just to tease him.

“Get my legs, too, while you’re at, yeah?” you quip.

Eddie reaches for the tote beside your chair with an effervescence that can only be described as a boy on Christmas morning — his present: the opportunity to touch you. He rises again with the blue bottle in his hand.

A low whistle sounds from behind the both of you.

“Looking good, sweetheart,” Billy compliments with a smirk as he walks by your chair. He’s in his lifeguard uniform — a pair of red swim trunks and his toned, golden torso.

He lifts his sunglasses from his face and rests them on top of his curled mullet. His crystal blue eyes gape at you, far sharper than Eddie’s chocolate syrup ones.

“Bite me, Hargrove,” you deadpan in response.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, chomping spearmint gum between his pearly white teeth. He spins on his flip-flops and walks backward to keep ogling at you. “Just give me the word and I’m yours, darlin’.”

He disappears in the bustling crowd after that, fading like rubbed-in sunscreen. You forget about him the second he’s gone.

He’s always been an asshole like that. It’d be a rookie mistake to give more than half a shit about him. But Eddie still feels the boy’s presence like a mean, lean, green monster full of envy. It’s like he’s still there — close enough to punch, even.

He isn’t sure if it’s the heat or if he’s actually seeing red.

“What an asshole,” you murmur under your breath.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Eddie snaps.

“Whoa,” you drawl within a laugh. “Slow your roll, tiger.”

The boy's eyes go wide as he looks over at you again. “I’m not even sure what I just said, honestly.”

“You’re a dork who plays Dungeons and Dragons, remember? You can’t start talking about fighting Billy Hargrove.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he sighs, rigid body finally loosening with the heavy exhale. He squints at you after. “You don’t think I could take him?”

“I don’t thank you have to,” you lilt.

“That’s such a non-answer, babe.”

“I’m just saying,” you giggle with a shrug. “I’m asking you to feel me up, Eds. Not that creep.”

A rosy smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, smug and full of love.

You meet it with a grin of your own. 

“C’mon, I’m burning to a crisp over here,” you urge, shifting in the chair just to make your thighs jiggle in the way you know Eddie likes.

His eyes glaze over at the sight — one he’s seen a million times now — and you know it’s done the trick.

“Let’s give Hargrove a show, yeah?”

[star-girl69]

I Can See You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

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

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

I Can See You - Taylor Swift

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

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

—-

“What the hell are you all doing?”

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

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

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

He didn’t understand any other kind of power.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You need this.

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

You opt to ignore him.

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

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

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

The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.

“Oops,” he says.

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

—-

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

“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have a horrible idea.”

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

You and Tyla both gag.

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

Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”

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

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

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

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

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

“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.

“I would,” Jackie agrees.

“I mean, it might actually work.”

—-

You corner her the next day.

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

She squints at you. “How?”

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

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

You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.

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

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

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

You ignore that.

“So, you’ll do it?”

“When are you gonna spell him?”

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

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

“Yeah, sure.”

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

—-

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

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

You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.

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

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

And she is. She is so painfully pretty.

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

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

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

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

Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.

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

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

“Uh… yeah.”

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

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

“That’s fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.

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

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

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

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

But you’re too deep in this now.

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hand lands on your knee.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

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

His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.

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

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

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

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

You stand in front of her, smiling softly.

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

“Of course I am.”

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

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

Everyone is staring.

It’s exhilarating.

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

Her breath tickles your neck.

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

You smile and place your hand over hers.

“I know.”

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her smile is really pretty.

You laugh along with her after a second.

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

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

“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.

You don’t leave until the stars come out.

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He asks you questions and listens to your answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

You’re okay with a bow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This one’s fit for a lady.”

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

You just need to find Clarisse.

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

Where the hell is Clarisse?

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

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

“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”

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

You’ve grown to like it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You back up.

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

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

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

“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t.

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

The bow swings in your hand.

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

Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”

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

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

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

—-

On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.

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

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

You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Revenge feels to good, and you need this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

She stares pointedly at the distance.

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

You sit down on the bed next to hers.

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

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

She slips off her armor.

“I’m not something to you.”

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

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

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

You leave silently and you cry in the woods.

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.

The words hurt. You say them anyways.

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

“Y/N,” Tyla coos.

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

But you might just be making that up.

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

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

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

You’re alone at the stone table.

Xavier sees that as an opportunity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

It even makes you feel a little excited.

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

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

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

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

“Supportive,” you muse.

Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”

“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.

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

You look around the room.

Most of your siblings are wearing worse.

And you need to get your mind off her.

“I’m wearing that.”

Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.

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

—-

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

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

Everything is so funny in the firelight.

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

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

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

Your heels sink into the dirt.

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

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

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

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

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

Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.

“I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She laughs, holding you up.

“Oh, you’re drunk.”

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

Her face falls.

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

“Y/N, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good.

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

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

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

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

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

“N-not here. Not yet.”

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

“Maybe later,” you whisper.

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

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

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

He’s ripped away from you.

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

You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.

Xavier only seems to find it funny.

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

She punches him again. Again.

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

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

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

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

“Clarisse-”

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

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

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

You see it fade from his eyes.

It shouldn’t be.

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

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

He holds his hands to his already red face.

“You’re a fucking witch.”

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

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

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

—-

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

She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.

“Do you need something?” you mutter.

“I was selfish,” she starts.

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

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

It wasn’t true.

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

You place your hand on the grass next to you.

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

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

You smile.

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

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

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

“Did you mean it?”

She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.

“Mean what?”

“That it wasn’t true.”

“It wasn’t true.”

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

“I-I was just angry, and I-”

You’re sick of hearing her talk.

It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.

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

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

You pull away.

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

—-

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

clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!

—-

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

—-

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

literally everyone: YOUR girl????

clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him

everyone: not a logical solution???

—-

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

also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed

—-

taglist:

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

[babygirlhouse]

house md 2024 headcanons 🫡

hi loves!! jumping on this trend :^) i don't think any of these make sense but they made me laugh soooo here u go

House has a very bad pain day and (when pushed) says that he strained the muscle while riding his bike. Obviously nobody believes him, so the ducklings + Wilson spend the day trying to figure out what he did and end up finding security footage of him attempting to hit the griddy in the morgue 

Kutner has a very generic inspirational quotes tumblr blog (he’s so proud of it) and House finds it and just starts dropping quotes from it in DDXs to mess with him & then acting all innocent 

Thirteen has a secret thirst trap tiktok acc that doesn’t explicitly show her face but has her lab coat & maybe stethoscope. When Chase suggests that it’s her she doesn’t confirm or deny it and just keeps winking. Cameron definitely follows the account after this. Thirteen pretends not to realise.

Wilson takes a uquiz to find out what sort of cheese he is and is devastated when it says he’s cheddar. He then has an identity crisis because he thinks he’s too bland and tries to reinvent his aesthetic, leading to one infected eyebrow piercing and a tramp stamp that’s never mentioned again. Potential there for a sappy scene where House tells him he's anything but bland.

Cuddy starts a momblog style podcast. House sends anonymous hate. Taub guest stars. 

I think Taub would get deeply into ASMR. Like it’d start with him finding and playing a video of ASMR triggers for his daughters, then he tries it himself to see if that calms them down even more, etc etc. He starts a youtube channel and it blows up. He gets recognised by patients at the hospital. It goes to his head just a little. He unironically uses the term 'ASMRtist'

A cosplayer has a mysterious illness and the team has to go to a convention to test for environmental factors. Chase is apprehensive but House forces him to go. He’s quickly recognised at the convention and it turns out that he has a cosplay instagram account and they get stopped every 10 mins to take pictures. No one lets him live it down 

Thirteen and Cameron kiss & fall in love & babysit Taub's kids. House makes relentless jokes but is quietly very fond of them and their relationship. Pls i need this

Foreman has a twitter/X account where he posts a combination of work out tips/inspirational quotes (not as sweet as Kutner's blog, more grindset vibes yknow) but he gets mixed up in a pyramid scheme for protein powders and gets cancelled. Also potential for a sappy scene here where Foreman says he admires Kutner for not letting House's teasing about his blog get to him. They're besties now and make each other better.

Cuddy forces all of them to go on a wellness retreat. House and Wilson make a bet to see who can go the longest without speaking. It's not even a silent retreat, they're just like that. Also someone convinces Chase that the utility shed on the retreat is haunted.

The wellness retreat no speaking bet also def has potential for gay chicken. Like Wilson kisses House to see if that will get him to lose the bet. By the next morning neither of them know or care who lost the bet, they leave their room looking Extremely disheveled and return to the hospital very much together. Cuddy is not at all surprised. She planned this. Each of the ducklings hand her $100.

PPTH minecraft server. yeah

[rxzennia]

don't you worry child

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 so like i lied and now here’s something not on my wip list. remember the theme park scene with three aventurines? this is loosely based on that. young kakavasha calls you mister like twice but that’s cause you’re looming tall. i wish i could yap about more exploring the map, but it’s already way too long :( would’ve speedran this fic but i was trying to beat divergent v (spoiler alert, i’m still trying)

“for in every adult there dwells the child that was, and in every child there lies the adult that will be.” 

when aventurine showed you the dream bubble made of his memories, he wasn’t expecting to bare his inner child to you. he thought it’d be some of his earlier days at the ipc, some of his conquests and schemes, or maybe some of his glorious wins at the casino, not what he has buried for so long – and definitely not something he’s tried so hard to deny for so long. sure, he will tell you eventually, but not now. not yet, not when he’s barely ready. 

and yet here you are, face to face with a child whose height barely reaches your hips. alone. aventurine said he’d be here with you, but where the hell is he?

you agreed to give your boyfriend’s(?) dream bubble a try, but where are you?

no one’s confessed but there are already rumors in the office so like tentatively dating, you suppose

and who is this small human in front of you?

you adjust your scarf, pulling it a little higher as you stare at the boy

he stares back at you

you try to not glare at him, but for all you know, you might still be glaring anyway

a few minutes pass, and the child blinks at you

he lifts one hand up, look at his feet then back at you, then he tiptoes

"you’re so tall, mister!" 

you look around for anyone else. there’s no one else.

"me?" you point at yourself

you’re not good with kids, you don’t know if you should bother engaging him, but hey, he’s just a kid

no reason to ignore him or tell him to leave you alone

if anything, him being all the way out here in the unregulated areas of the theme park means you should do something about it

maybe you should bring him back to the main area?

"yes, you, mister!" the child nods enthusiastically. "woah, you’re so big! can you come down a little?"

first off, that’s what she said. second, and more importantly, how is he not remotely intimidated by your presence? you’re a pretty towering figure even by your own standards, and you don’t exactly have a friendly face, so the fact that a kid of all people started talking to you…

but the more you look at him, the more you feel a sense of deja vu. his face reminds you of someone you know, but his demeanor is, like, the furthest thing away from that person.

you can’t really say no to him, so you crouch down slowly

you don’t know how to interact with him, but you can at least satisfy his curiosity

"like this?" you’re now a head and a half taller than him. somehow, he takes this as a sign to approach

"child, has no one taught you to not talk to strangers?" 

he gasps, like he suddenly remembered everything his parents warned him to not do, and he lowers his head like he’s just done something bad

"b-but you don’t seem like a bad person!" he bursts out, clumsily fiddling with his fingers. "you, you don’t give me the same feeling bad people do…"

"you should still be careful." you sigh as you adjust your scarf so it’s not touching the ground. "well, that aside. i’m down here now. can i help you?"

you watch as they kid slowly walk up to you, the curiosity shining in his eyes

you didn’t deny his claims! that means you’re a good person!

you’re mildly fascinated by the delicate little human

"i’m looking for someone," he says, finally looking up at you again, "t-then i have to go home… but i’m a little lost…"

is this what the world has come to? a kid asking you for help? in a dream bubble of all things?

though you did agree to experiencing the whole thing, so you should probably play along

"alright." you nod. "how should i call you?"

the child brightens up when you agree to help, and he almost reaches for your hands before he remembered personal space

"umm," he starts, keeping his hands awkwardly half-raised, "my name is kakavasha. mister, what about you?"

"kakavasha, hm?" you say, and you offer him one hand. you briefly wonder if it’s okay to tell dream kakavasha your name – this doesn’t seem like a typical dream bubble and all – but worst comes to worst, you’ll just force your way out.

so you tell the child your name, and you feel an overwhelming sense of adoration when he gingerly tries to repeat the syllables that you’ve just said.

dragon hoarding treasure moment intensifies

this kid is going to grow up into the man you know today? absolutely crazy

you’re kind of spacing out as you try to reconcile the kid in front of you with your boss

and while you’re doing that, you vaguely hear him repeating your name over and over again

"yes, that’s close enough." you finally interrupt his attempts to perfect his pronunciation. "where to, kakavasha?"

you stand up, and holy shit you’re so much taller than him

you briefly wonder if you can even hear him from all the way up there…

you can. you hear him crisp and clear. 

maybe a little too clear

he’s loud.

"can i lead the way?" he asks, as if you’d say no to him (???)

he grabs onto your hand without any reservations and he starts to drag you off

what do you do??? no human interaction has prepared you for children??? because no kid wanted to approach you like ever???

you’re taken so much by surprise that you kind of just… froze up

cue him trying to tug you somewhere but failing miserably

he tries with both hands, but you still wouldn’t budge

super confused

he tries harder

still nothing??? just how big is this big person???

"oh, sorry." you snap back to your senses, and you let him pull you to wherever he wants

after a few turns, pinball machines, and an entire maze later, you find yourself at the central stage, where aventurine did his grandest closing act. you can still see the slash of nihility, but it doesn’t seem that anyone else can see it. perhaps a distortion in the dream bubble itself?

kakavasha takes you straight to the center, right at where the slashed monitor sits.

this whole thing hasn’t sat well with you since you touched that bloody dream bubble

where the fuck is aventurine?

who is kakavasha trying to find?

why would they be here?

unless…

you come to a stop when kakavasha stops to look around. 

"oh, mister’s not here anymore." he whispers, lowering his eyes and fiddling with his fingers, "of course he wouldn’t be waiting…"

you slowly walk up by his side. "who exactly are we looking for? i don’t think you’ve ever told me."

"oh!" kakavasha gasps, "oh." he sputters a little, and he points to the stage. "i ran into a really cool mister earlier, and apparently he’s an actor!" 

now you know who he’s talking about

is this dr edward’s experimental model or something? it’s rare to see memoria taking such form

not that you understand memoria

did aventurine give you this dream bubble knowing this will happen?

so when he said he’d be around, did he mean…?

did he literally regress for this???? what is this, the most fantasy novel to have ever fantasized?

or is he watching you like some guy watching a playthrough of a rpg?

or is this entire thing a bug? because you thought you still have a few years to go before aventurine would even think of letting you so far into his mind

you sigh, it’s all far too complicated for you to think about

you’ll focus on the kid for now

"i see," you reply. you didn’t want to give such a dry response, but what are you even supposed to say? 

"but he seemed a little sad…" kakavasha mumbles, "i was hoping to catch him after his show…"

you’re slightly tempted to say "well you just missed him", but your brain is telling you to not do it

fine, you’ll hold your tongue :(

you watch as the child run around

you give him a few ten minutes before you crouch and open one arm for him

"come on," you sigh, "we’ll be here all day."

kakavasha looks at you, at your unreadable eyes, then your arm, then he tentatively slots himself into your side.

"woah, you’re so tall!" he exclaims when you slowly stand up with him on your shoulder. "i’m so high up! hehe!"

"i know, you’ve said that already," you deadpan

for how unfriendly you are, you sure aren’t hiding your worries well

your other arm has been hovering in front of the boy since the moment you stood up

and you’ve been careful with keeping your arm steady while you walk

"you see him?" 

"no…" comes kakavasha’s downtrodden reply. "i don’t have much time left, papa and mama will be worried if i don’t go home soon…"

you play along, wandering around for kakavasha to look for his adult self. "that’s a shame."

he turns to stare at you

you sound like you don’t give too much of a shit

but he can see that you’re a gentle person at heart

why else would you follow him around, hold his hand, and now lift him up so he can get a better view?

and you’ve also made sure that no monsters could get him

he makes a sad noise when you end up right in front of the monitor

you wonder if he could also see the slash of nihility, or if he intuitively sensed something

he taps your shoulder, a series of quick, feather-light pokes

"down?" you ask, but you’re already lowering kakavasha back onto the ground.

he approaches the broken monitor. "mister… did his show go well?" he grasps your hand tightly. "it was a great success, wasn’t it?"

you feel for the child, you really do. but this is a dream, an illusion where your actions won’t make any actual difference. you want to wrap him up and coddle him, but in the end, that will change nothing. 

"that it was." you nod, and you envelop his way smaller hands in your own. "the greatest success anyone’s ever seen."

somehow, your heart hurts when he breaks into a smile

"i’m glad." he says, like a weight’s been lifted off his chest

he probably already knows what happened

he knows himself best, after all

it’s not like you expect the child in front of you to be able to see through aventurine’s act

but they’re one in the same

that reckless abandon and affinity to games of chance didn’t come out of nowhere

you’re fairly certain he has his own guesses as to what happened to that "mister"

"do you know where the really cool mister is now?" kakavasha asks, looking at you with the most innocent gaze you’ve ever seen. "is he doing well?"

you can’t help but hear the subtext in his words, and you let out a soft snort. 

it’s such a "him" thing to do.

"i don’t know," you answer honestly, for you really don’t know. "but what i am certain of… is that he is not doing too badly."

you take note of the portal that slowly appeared in the middle of the stage. a picture frame, a crack, and hands prying that crack right open. 

you look into the distance, past the slash, past penacony, into the stars

"he’s alive," you say, "he’s living. will live."

you snap yourself out of your trance and look at the child next to you

"i’ll look after him, don’t worry."

you hope those words could be some sort of reassurance to him

"promise?" he offers you a pinky. "pinky promise?"

that’s cute

a quick image of others seeing you making a pinky promise flashes before your eyes

but what’s more important than the present?

"pinky promise." you hook your pinky with his. "i’ll make sure the really cool mister lives well."

kakavasha finally notices the portal, and he realizes it’s time to go home. he’s stayed out for too long, and now his family wants him home.

wherever home is to him, anyway

how do you even go home through a portal in a dream bubble

ever considered that maybe it’s better if you didn’t question everything

you let him drag you towards the portal

he doesn’t want to say goodbye to you quite yet

he’s pretty interested in this tall, scary person who isn’t actually scary at all

and he really wants to become friends with you (more like spend more time with you)

but he really needs to go, before his parents start to worry

you understand, of course you do, with how he’s fidgeting and glancing between you and the portal

and the face of a kid who’s just been told their playtime is over

so you nudge him a little, hoping that it’ll prompt him to go

are you surprised when it doesn’t work? not really? me neither

he refuses to let go of your hand

like legit just does not, even if both he and you know he has to

what can you do in such a scenario???

nothing’s prepared you for a silent tantrum

can you even call it a tantrum??? 

quick, come up with something!

alas, it doesn’t feel right to simply wave and part ways

"young kakavasha." you kneel down and unwrap your scarf from your neck. "take this with you," you say as you wrap the fabric around him, paying the strange feeling of exposing your scales no mind. you open your mouth to elaborate, but your words die in your throat. 

kakavasha looks at you; he doesn't need to crane his neck for once, and he flinches from the foreign feeling of your fingers ghosting ever so slightly against his face. for how much you’ve taken care of him while he wandered around the theme park, you’re still only a really kind stranger. nowhere close enough to be giving each other gifts.

"it gets cold at night," you say, finally cracking a tiny smile for the child before you, your hand landing on top of his head gently. "you’ll at least be warmer this way."

you watch kakavasha’s bewildered expression as he touches his new scarf, feeling the smooth fabric and how oddly chunky it feels looped around him. it isn’t a bad feeling, not at all. it’s more like a big hug, the sort that scares away the monster under the bed and wards off nightmares.

"thank you…" he mumbles, still dazed and taken by the new addition to his limited wardrobe. he lifts his face to look at you, taking note of your iridescent scales and your soft gaze. he beams, a grin so bright that it ignites even your inhuman heart. "i’ll treasure this! it feels so nice… thank you so much!"

"mm. go on, now." you nod, and you nudge him towards the portal. "don’t keep your family waiting."

kakavasha blinks at you. "you’re not coming?" he asks, tilting his head to the side innocently. 

"unfortunately." you beckon him forward and give him a small kiss on the top of his head before you stand up fully. "if fate shall have it, though… i suppose we will meet again."

"sis has always said that i’m blessed with fortune!" kakavasha almost jumps to grab onto you, but he just misses your shoulders by a hair. "see you next time!"

he spends a good minute waving at you before he turns around to leave. somehow… you feel an overwhelming sense of sadness. an inexplicable wave of melancholy washes over you like frigid waves on a windy day, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

you watch the child until he disappears into the frame, and you don’t look away for another minute.

"see you, kakavasha."

[steddiealltheway]

Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.

He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.

But they must keep up appearances, right?

Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.

So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.

Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."

But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.

Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"

Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"

Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.

Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."

Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."

Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."

Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."

Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."

"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."

Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"

He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.

When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.

A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."

"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.

A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"

"My place," Eddie says.

"Why?"

"So we can talk."

God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.

He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."

"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?

"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."

Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.

Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"

A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."

"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.

Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."

Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”

Steve nods. God, he was a good person.

Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."

Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."

"You're kind of hard to forget."

Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."

The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.

Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."

Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."

"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.

Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."

"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.

That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.

They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."

Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."

"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"

Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."

"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.

"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.

But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."

Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."

Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.

In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.

[lilacliquors]

ik it's late but this has been in my head all say so have a triple threat easter special <3

you wear 🐰bunny ears🐰 on easter headcanons ( butcher, homelander, soldier boy )

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ BUTCHER

he wasn't expecting it, easter was just another day since you had no kids, but you decided to spice things up

so he enters your bedroom after a long day at the office with the boys to see you in bunny ears one of his shirts, unbuttoned all the way down, and his favorite pair of red panties

needless to say, he drops whatever he's holding and walks to you in a daze, eyes raking over your figure with his mouth open slightly

"all this for me?" he asks, and you nod, toying with the ends of his shirt, moving it ever so slightly to expose your chest

he's done for then, and soon his shirt, your panties, and even the bunny ears are on the floor, and the bed is creaking

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ HOMELANDER ( JOHN GILLMAN )

easter was a holiday that made no sense to john, rabbits and chocolate and maybe christ? he should be better at this as an all american hero, but you promised him a surprise, and boy did you deliver

he can't keep his eyes off of you, in your fuzzy pink bunny ears and your silk pink pajamas to match, his mouth practically waters

he takes his time with you, undressing you slowly because it isn't every day you dress up like this for him, and he appreciates the gesture

he wants you to keep the bunny ears on, he thinks you look adorable and, dare he say it, innocent, even as he has you bouncing on his cock, moaning and gasping

it's the dawn of his newest nickname for you, his little bunny

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SOLDIER BOY ( BEN )

ben wasn't much of a holidays guy, the sentimental stuff just wasn't him. but when he caught sight of you in nothing but a bunny ear headband and white lingerie ...

he practically pounces on you, hands roaming your body extra careful so he doesn't tear this lacy number on you, he wants to see it again sometime, maybe under a wedding dress

but once he gets it off of you, he's like a feral animal, making you scream his name as he pounds into you from behind

"thought you could look all cute and i wouldn't ruin you?" he whispers, pulling your back flush against his chest

you two already bring a whole new meaning to the phrase 'fucking like rabbits', he almost wants you to wear the stupid thing again, just on a random tuesday

[murdrdocs]

ZOMBIE!LUKE SAVE ME 🙏

imagine going out on a supply run with them (bc you two are the “big kids”) and you get stuck somewhere… forced proximity… sweat… “just the tip”….

hints of perv!luke; implied voyeurism; unprotected sex; forced proximity; just the tip; MDNI 18+. 2k words. w/ LUKE CASTELLAN

Think about something else. 

The steady step-slide of the walkers just outside of this small room. The heat that is permeating the small space, having nowhere to go other than circulate around you and Luke’s bodies, and then puncture through your shirts and pants until it makes your clothes stick to your skin. Maybe think about the two kids depending on you just thirty minutes up the road, or about what they could be up to right now. Think about anything other than your current position. 

But telling yourself not to think about it only makes you want to think about it more. The more you resist feeling Luke pressed up against your backside, the more you feel him. His arms brushing against the back of yours. His hips pressed into yours, but a little higher since he’s taller than you. His chest against your back, his chin knocking into your head every so often, his breaths just a tad off from yours and mingling with your own. 

It’s a position born out of necessity. As soon as Luke heard the sound of walkers approaching, he pulled you into the first room he saw, which just so happened to be the tiniest and stuffiest janitorial closet ever. In his haste, you foolishly left your only weapon on the counter outside, and although Luke had complained about your amateurish mistake, he made the same one. 

Which left you and Luke unknown-last-name in a janitor's closet, pressed up against each other until however many walkers were outside decided there was no good food for them in this CVS and wandered off to their next restaurant. 

Your position wouldn’t be so bad if Luke hadn’t been making it a nightmare. He isn’t doing it on purpose you figure, but you can still place the blame on him. At least on his body. 

In an attempt to give him some space, you slide your foot forward, only for the softened toe of your shoe to thud against the wall. Instinctively, as least you’re assuming, Luke’s hand flies to your waist and he pulls you back against his chest, not moving even when you collide with force that should have sent him staggering. He’s holding his breath, so you hold yours, and when nothing happens and only then, he exhales and you do the same. Though, he doesn’t let you go. 

“Stop moving,” he hisses right against your ear, almost too silent but the lack of any other noise in this space amplifies the sounds that do exist. Like the way your breaths speed up. 

Instead of replying, you rear your elbow forward as much as you can, and then jab it back into Luke’s side. He groans.

“You stop.” 

Luke takes a moment. He starts to clear his throat and then stops midway through as if realizing just how loud that would be. 

“I’m not … ‘m not doing anything.” 

You wish you could glare at him. But not only can you not move, it’s also too dark to see anything but the tiny sliver of light coming through the crack in the door. 

You don’t know if Luke senses your unbelieving attitude or if he’s just overcompensating when he adds,“I can’t help it.”

You’re just about to tell Luke to try to help it, but then footsteps begin to come towards the door. They stop right in front of you, and Luke grips your waist with more force. You can feel his stance tighten behind you like when he’s preparing for a fight and you mirror it. You both stand like that for a couple of minutes, waiting for something to happen, and then the walker moves along and leaves you and Luke there to deal with his problem. 

Maybe if you ignore Luke’s problem in the same way you have done with the walker, then it will go away. 

‎

“How the fuck do you still have a boner?”

The sun has set by now. You know so by the old watch on your wrist and the now darkened crack between the door and the frame. Walkers march around tenfold, Percy and Annabeth are left on their own, there’s so much to worry about, and Luke still has a boner pressed into you. 

The thunderous sound of their heavy feet dragging against the tile shrouds your voices, allowing for you to finally talk to Luke after hours. 

You’re both sitting on the ground now, but the way the closet is arranged makes your leg have to sling over Luke’s lap, allowing you to feel the stiff erection confined in his cargo pants. Luke has his flashlight propped up in front of you both, but currently flipped off to conserve the battery and to avoid alerting the walkers. You don’t need the fluorescent lighting to tell that he’s shrugging. 

“I don’t know. It’s not like it’s something I can help.” 

You roll your eyes for dramatic effect, even if he can’t see you. “You definitely can.” You’re being unreasonable, but now that the sun has set and there are worries surrounding you on every end, you would rather focus on this minute worry over the two bigger ones hopefully in a mansion down the road. “Just think about your grandmother or something.” 

“Oh yeah, thinking about my dead grandmothers that I have never met will get rid of my boner.” 

“It will! If you can be horny and sad at the same time then there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“Oh says you!” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I can hear you crying and mo–” Luke stops while he’s ahead, but the damage is already done. 

You give him a second, perhaps to retract his statement, apologize, explain, or do something other than sit there in silence. When he doesn’t even attempt to add onto his already incriminating confession, you take your stance. 

“You listen to me?” Again, he doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. “You’re such a fucking creep, Luke.” 

You try to sound peeved. You try to sound disgusted. And maybe it comes across that way, but you only barely feel that way. Especially when you’ve been putting on a show for days with hopes to get his attention. 

When you’re with Luke, there’s a tendency for things to turn on its head quickly. One moment you’re bickering with Luke over how he could have a boner in a situation as dire as this, and then the next you’re letting him sweet talk you. Before you and Percy encountered Luke and Annabeth, you were tougher according to Percy. You were less likely to give into stupid plans, more likely to think for longer before making a decision. More logical. 

You didn’t believe Percy when he claimed Luke had changed that about you. But maybe there was some truth to his accusation, because there was no one else in the world other than Luke Castellan who could have convinced you to do this right now. 

It’s so fucking stupid. You’re too young, too responsible for lives other than your own, too clueless, and too many other things to even be considering this. But you’re more than considering, your arms pressed against the door and your legs spread for Luke who is situated between them from behind. You’re going to let him do this, because you want it as much as he does.

Besides, it’s just the tip. 

“Ready?” he whispers. You nod. 

He has his flashlight turned onto the lowest setting and diffused through his shirt, providing just enough illumination for him to see your backside. He takes a breath, you take a breath, and you breathe out together. At that same time Luke nudges forward and pushes the tip of his cock into your cunt. 

You don’t mean to gasp, but you do. Luke has one hand on your hip holding you steady and he uses his thumb to rub circles into your skin, nonverbally telling you to relax. You do as told, but not much relaxing is needed before Luke stops, pulls back out, and does it again. 

The sun might have gone down, but the heat is still there. It clings to your skin, creating a sticky film that you want nothing more than to wash away. Unfortunately, it only multiplies whenever Luke begins to fuck you (is that what he’s doing?) a little faster. It feels so good, but it’s not nearly enough. You know that more length creates more possibilities. More danger for a massive mistake to occur. But you aren’t thinking straight when you push back during Luke’s next thrust, sheathing more of his cock into you with one motion that catches him off guard. 

He grunts, a painful sounding groan that comes out strangled. Instantly, both of you stop. You wait. You listen. And you feel Luke so intimately, just situated inside of you like this, unmoving. He fills you up in ways you could have only imagined. Luke rolls his hips into yours. You don’t know if he means to do it, but he does, and it feels so good that your eyes are rolling back into your skull and you’re starting to fuck yourself back onto Luke, walkers be damned. 

You both manage to control your noises from your mouths, but where the two of you are conjoined is a whole different story. The sounds are loud—sloppy squelches of your arousal coating Luke’s dick, squeezing out onto him from how tight your entrance is. There’s a loud clap when your ass hits Luke’s hips, and it only stops when Luke holds you still and fucks you himself. But like this he isn’t going deeper, he isn’t going all the way, and you understand that it’s too loud when he goes all the way in but you need it so bad. 

Luke can get so deep within you. Granted you haven’t had sex for a long time, but god it feels like the first time. Minus the excessive discomfort and awkwardness. 

When Luke slips in all the way once more, you can feel him all the way in your stomach. It’s just so good and so worth it. 

Letting Luke come stay with you and Percy was so worth it. Compromising your rules and adopting some of his was so worth it. Embarrassingly fucking yourself on your fingers when you knew Percy and Annabeth were outside, leaving you and Luke alone was so worth it. Even this fucking supply run gone wrong was worth it. Because it all got you here, nails digging into the painted metal of the janitor closet door while you let Luke fuck you way deeper than just the tip. 

He’s close. He doesn’t have to tell you such for you to know. He’s clicked his flashlight off by now, leaving you both surrounded in darkness. He whispers, “Touch yourself”. And you do. 

When you flutter around his cock with an impending orgasm, Luke pulls out, fists himself, and spurts cum onto your ass while you’re coming down. 

Your heavy breaths heat up the room as Luke wipes your backside with something that you think is his shirt, and then he blindly helps pull your pants up. Your panties end up a little twisted so you fix them yourself before doing the best that you can to turn around. 

“Time?” 

Luke clicks his flashlight on for a second and you see how flustered he is. Eyes wide, hair sticking to his forehead, tanned cheeks redder than usual. You wonder how you look. 

“10:43.” 

“Leave at first daylight?” 

He grunts an affirmative reply and clicks the light back off, leaving you both submerged in the darkness, locked in a room, with nothing else to do for a few hours. You entertain yourselves in the best ways that you can.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1

[chap two] | [all chapters here]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao. Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol. I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.

(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)

wc: 3.9k

Chapter One

The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.

Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.

Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.

Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.

To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.

So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?

That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.

Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.

You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.

Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.

It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.

So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.

Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).

Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.

Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.

So… What did you want? What did you actually like?

It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.

Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.

So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?

Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?

You settled on four key things to keep in mind:

You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.

You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested  in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.

You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.

And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.

How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.

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The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.

You were going to sit at a new lunch table.

You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.

But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?

You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.

Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.

“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”

So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.

“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.

“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”

You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.

Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.

And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.

You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.

As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.

As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.

Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.

Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.

Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.

Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.

As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.

That’s when an idea began to form.

You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.

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In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).

You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.

You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.

So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”

Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.

But then the idea gave you pause.

You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.

But… maybe?

Shit, what a stupid idea.

Or maybe it was a brilliant one.

You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.

You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.

Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?

It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.

So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:

Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436

You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.

You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.

He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”

Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”

The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.

“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.

You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.

So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.

When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.

So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.

It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.

You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:

Picnic table behind the football field, 4.

God, what were you getting yourself into.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

fellow + gidel ssr time fellas

(This bastard took an entire soft pity :(( but hey, I got a Dorm Uniform Jade dupe and finally FINALLY my first Dorm Uniform Floyd on the way, so I ain't too pressed about it.) RISE UP FELLOWIVES NOW’S YOUR TIME

***Character profile, voice lines, Groovy, and vignette spoilers below the cut!!***

First off! His official profile, coffin, and candy (Fox Candy):

(School) Grade/Class: None

Birthday: May 17 (Taurus)

Age: 26

Height: 181 cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Hometown: ???

Club: None

Best Subject: Mathematics (specifically Arithmetic)

Hobby: Watching theater

Dislikes: Saving money

Favorite Food: Apples

Least Favorite Food: Potatoes

Special Skill: Sewing

We finally get confirmation of Fellow’s age! (He had previously said in Playful Land that he was 20-something.)

I love that Fellow’s best subject is math Deuce is jealous/j; it makes so much sense given that his inspiration, Honest John (and Fellow himself) aren’t good at reading. It’s that whole “kids are either good at math or English” stereotype. In Japanese, the phrase 算数 is used. 算数 refers to arithmetic, or very basic math taught in elementary school (adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing). That specific phrase explains Fellow’s elementary level of understanding. His dislike being saving money is also related to numbers; he spends the money he has right away to get by in the moment. Fellow doesn’t really have the skill or the luxury of financial planning, he has to focus on the here and now, looking out for both himself and Gidel.

OMG, his favorite and least favorite foods???? 😭 Playful Land has apple (core) flavored candies and popcorn… and again, this is a reference to Honest John and Pinocchio’s first encounter! He takes the kid’s apple and eats it, lol cnsvwiwguwkw Potatoes being his disliked food… Maybe it’s because it’s the “poor” man’s vegetable? Because potatoes are so versatile, keep for a long time, and are filling because of the starch content, Fellow might resort to eating them a lot, so perhaps as a result he got sick of the taste.

What I find most interesting about Fellow’s profile are his listed hobby and special skill. He largely comes off as despicable and a slimy scammer (which he is, don’t get me wrong), but we can see different sides to him in these details—both the inner child that had his dreams trampled but remains hopeful about the future and the big brother figure/guardian to a child. Gidel is actually formally referred to in Fellow’s profile as his (non-blood related) brother, which made my heart melt 🥺 TWST must know I have a thing for beastmen who act shitty but are actually excellent mentors to the children/j

Fellow enjoys watching theater. It’s a way of transporting you away temporarily to new worlds with crazy stories and emotional performances. When words aren’t enough, you sing. And when singing isn’t enough, you dance. It’s an area that’s so full of life and joy, at least from the audience’s perspective. I’m thinking that watching theater must have been a form of escapism for Fellow, especially with how accessible it is (think of like street performances). Watching theater might also serve a dual purpose of teaching Fellow how to come across as amicable and friendly, which says a LOT about his character. He’s resourceful and able to learn from unconventional sources, then is able to apply those skills to real world situations.

Fellow’s special skill being sewing is surprisingly very cute! If you’ve taken one look at his and Gidel’s designs, we may have already spotted some of his handiwork. There’s mismatched fabric patches on their clothes!! The stitches look so clean too. The patterns not matching is probably because Fellow just used whatever scraps he was able to get his hands on, but I also like to imagine that he tried to make the best of the situation by incorporating the mismatched fabrics in a fun way (like the diamonds in his pants).

Next, can we talk about the composition of that GROOVY????

It’s another reference to the same Pinocchio scene! Fellow’s holding his book like Honest John did and it looks like he’s trying to teach Gidel the alphabet from words scratched on the sidewalk. Notice how the C is written backwards too 😂 He even wears glasses like when Honest John was trying hard to act like an intellectual.

And Gidel!!! Pencil and pad of paper in hand, he looks so interested to learn (something which was hinted at in Playful Land). Gideon in the film is also shown with a pen and pad of paper, scribbling down nonsense as Fellow pretends to diagnose Pinocchio.

Gidel glances up at Fellow with an expression of admiration. I love how wholesome their relationship is depicted as, it leaves a warm feeling in the heart.

The framing of this Groovy is very interesting. We have Fellow to our left—a direction has historically been associated with evil (in Italian, the word for left is even sinistra, as if to imply something sinister) and in the darkness. Gidel is the one to our right and in the light. It presents Fellow to us as someone who has given up on his dreams—but not completely, since we see some light touching his hat, gloves, and highest features + he is currently teaching Gidel and still has dreams of opening his own school. Gidel is shown in the light because he’s still a naive child that doesn’t understand how the world works. His dreams haven’t been destroyed yet, and there’s hope for him to have a better life since Fellow is looking after him and instructing him.

CHECK THIS OUT, GIDEL FOLLOWS FELLOW TO CLASS LIKE MARY'S LAMB OR SOMETHING????? Gidel pops out from under the desk or out of/behind Fellow's cape! Gidel also joins Fellow on the homescreen.

Some of Fellow's expressions are so priceless... For example, look at him in Flight! There's an unsure face and a little bead of sweat. (He makes a lot of pathetic accompanying sounds too, lol) Flying takes magic, so he's probably not confident or powerful enough to maintain flight for long stretches of time--though when he does nail it, he looks ultra smug.

ADGKVAVFOOEFIEQOfsl HIS SHOCKED FACE

How uncool, Fellow-san...

His attack sprites are very similar/identical to what we saw in Playful Land--Fellow's just playing for the opposite team now.

Gidel hops into battle to assist, so I guess they count as the first two-character card. It's been a while since I've seen these animations, but I think I can appreciate them a lot more now. I'm noticing new little things like how Fellow adds a bunch of showmanship into his attack, little flashy flourishes and even presenting Gidel with his arms splayed, as if welcoming a star to the spotlight. The attention to detail really is crazy for these.

If you want to read his voice lines in full, you can find an excellent fan translation of them here! I'll just be remarking on things I noticed while combing through the voice lines myself:

First off: bro calls himself Fellow Hones-SAMA???????? OKAY, KING 😭 Love that confidence you got goin' on there...

bifabsiyofbefe Love how he just reads a textbook and then flat-out admits he has no clue what the heck it's saying. Hey, honesty is a virtue.

Ace 💀 He has the balls to play a prank on an adult... I kind of want to know what the prank was, but at the same time I feel like I should be shaking my head and telling him off for doing it in the first place. I do appreciate that Ace being shitty brought out Fellow's true personality there for a second though, I live for it when Fellow gets real steamed and starts shouting that the NRC students are brats or that they should drop out if they have no motivation in school.

The way Fellow automatically clocked that Kalim is way too trusting and would surely be in danger even if he wasn't the one to come for him... Fellow, watch your back. Jamill WILL come for your sketchy ass for what you did back then.

I didn't find anything super interesting in Fellow's comments about Ortho, but I do think it reveals that there is value in him coming to school. It's only at NRC where Fellow can see such a curious thing like Ortho, and that speaks to the value of really going out there and being exposed to different things. That's part of Lilia's own growth arc too, and a large part of why he now spreads that same rhetoric.

Fellow remarks that Ramshackle is "pretty sweet", which means one of two things: either this is the refurbished post-book 6 dorm OR it's still the shabby pre-book 6 dorm, but since Fellow and Gidel have never really had their own stable housing, even run-down old Ramshackle seems like a massive upgrade.

Fellow and Gidel must have been so happy to see that lunch at NRC is free and served buffet style (so there's no limits to how much you can take). On top of that, they got dead chefs from 5 star restaurants staffing the kitchen! Those two really hit the jackpot, I hope they eat well.

AVUSDGVUADOVIAISDBIDAS THE DIALOGUE IMPLYING FELLOW CASUALLY BYPASSED THE SCHOOL'S BARRIER AND OTHER SECURITY MEASURES... So Chenya-core of him, really. Fellow may not have magical might, but he's seriously street smart to have found a way in like he has.

Small detail but I appreciate how Fellow has lines which call attention to Gidel. It doesn't just remind us that Gidel is there too, but it also demonstrates to us that Fellow actively tries to include him in the conversation despite Gidel's muteness (a condition which may lead others to outright ignoring him or talking down to him).

LAST THING (though it's not in MysteryShopTL's linked post): in his birthday greeting to the player, Fellow says that both you and him don't have talent for magic, so you should get along. I didn't think the game would acknowledge the player and Fellow's similarity in that sense, so it was very nice to be proven wrong.

And to finish off this post (which ended up being way more massive than I thought it would be), a quick summary of the vignettes!! If you want to read them in full, please check out MysteryShopTLs’ post!

In vignette 1, Fellow and Gidel are putting on a street performance in Silk City. Fellow collects fees from the onlookers and then tries to milk more out of them by spinning a story about how Gidel is a puppet that can walk without strings. Buuut Gidel moves like a normal living being and sneezes, which ruins the ruse and leads to the crowd getting mad at them. The duo run off, but Fellow reveals that while the locals were looking at Gidel, he used magic to steal some of their precious metals and jewelry. In the next vignette, Fellow and Gidel have moved on to Fairest City. It's said that they live a nomadic lifestyle and hop from place to place, never staying for too long in any one location because word of their scams may spread and cause a situation where they cannot reasonably make money through their lies. (Cute detail: Fellow listens to Gidel's suggestions on where they should go next and even praises Gidel's smarts.) This time Fellow's trying to auction off a magestone that he claims will allow anyone who holds it to use magic. The people of Fairest City don't believe him and give him the cold shoulder, which upsets Fellow (since he really hates it when others look down on him). He ends up using his UM to get his audience to be more pliant and manages to sell the magestone for a pretty penny. At the end of this vignette, Fellow drops a line about how he and Gidel are so free, how they can do whatever they want since they have nothing holding them back. I really love that thought~

AND IF YOU THOUGHT VIGNETTES 1 AND 2 WERE FUNNY HAHA TEEHEE CUTE, WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE VIGNETTE 3 💀 VIGNETTE 3 FELT LIKE IT WAS A TARGETTED SNIPE ON MY HEART

The setting is Sunrise City! Fellow and Gidel are being chased off by an angry person they tried to rob. It looks like they're unsuccessful today and will be going hungry. Gidel tries opening a random can of OIL in search of food, so Fellow scolds him and tells him to leave it be. Apparently Gidel does this a lot when he's hungry (just grabbing random shit and trying to eat it), even though Fellow has tried teaching him how to read. THIS IS WHAT THE CONTEXT OF THE GROOVY IS, FELLOW SQUATS DOWN (like we literally see his 2D model lowering) AND DRAWS IT ON THE GROUND FOR GIDEL TO SEE. O is for orange, I is for ice-cream, and L is for laugh. Fellow realizes that L is the only non-food word, but he couldn't come up with anything else. I wonder if like... this is some common game they do to distract from hunger. They have to imagine the food they could have but can't. And L being "laugh"? That can't be a coincidence. Fellow could have used any other L word as an example, even if he couldn't come up with a food that starts with L. It makes me think he picked "laugh" on purpose in an effort to lift Gidel's spirits and to try and distract from their circumstances.

Aaaah, as I was saying! Fellow gets upset that he doesn't know as much as your average 26-year old would since he never went to school. Gidel seems to sense his frustrations and reassures him with a pat, which reenergizes Fellow. He says he'll try to find some food, so Gidel should focus on making a fire. While gathering wood to burn, they come across a job posting by a shady rich man that Fellow and Gidel supposedly did another job for in the past. Fellow suggests that they check out the job and if they don't like it then they can leave. ADSKJBBSLDIADBLUBAB These are the events leading up to Playful Land... meaning that Fellow’s showmanship is wasn’t something he developed at the amusement park, but as a general coping and survival mechanism to get by day-to-day.

I uh. May or may not have cried a little at Fellow and Gidel's really wholesome interaction 😭 I MEAN YEAH OF COURSE I'M A SUCKER FOR BIG BROTHER CHARACTERS (and we certainly see that in how Fellow scolds Gidel and looks out for his wellbeing, both in the vignettes and in Playful Land) but also???????? ? ? ? ? ?? ?????? ? ? ? ?? I love Love LOVE how Gidel is shown to be supportive of Fellow as well. Fellow as the older person, the adult, and the able-bodied one of the duo is pulling most of the weight when it comes to getting resources and handling communication. However, Gidel plays an important role in their dynamic as well. He's the heart and the emotional support that Fellow needs when he's down in the dumps and being hard on himself. Gidel not only serves as a "reason" for Fellow to work hard (to support a child), but he also gives Fellow motivation and hope that tomorrow can be another day. YOU CAN REALLY TELL HOW MUCH THESE TWO CARE AND LOOK OUT FOR ONE ANOTHER OTL

OOOOOOOoooOOooOOGGHHHH MY HEART *clutches it* I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, I CAN'T HANDLE THE ONII-SAMA OF IT ALL