#baby angst

[redhead-batgal]

Can you do a Tim Drake x Reader where the reader is an anti-hero in Gotham and she has a thing with Red Robin and he starts to get busy and kinda wants her to become a hero so they can be partners but the reader sees him as controlling and can you use 2 + 23 from the angst prompts and 17 from the fluff prompts?

Type: One-Shot

Pairing: Fem! and Anti-Hero! Reader x Tim Drake/Red Robin

Prompts: ✢2: “Did I ever really matter to you? Or was it all just a game?” ✢23: “Heroes die young anyways, might as well live as a villain.” ☙17: “Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” “And why is that?” “Because I’m in love with you.”

Content: Cursing, angst but also fluff and worries

Word Count: 1,087

(P.S. The fluff prompt just made me want to give it a happy ending, plus I'm in a really fluff writing mood.)

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

You hadn't known how painful love could be until you fell for the wrong guy. He was funny, sweet, a complete dork and brilliant. But he was also a vigilante and and controlling.

While it's true you'd been basically with Red Robin for almost a year, it was also true that for some reason he'd been badgering you about switching sides. Going from a criminal into a hero. A vigilante just like him. So, then you'd have to follow his orders. You'd have to be under his watch and control.

It made your mind buzz and scream, thinking about all the reasons why and all the reasons you weren't going to be a hero. Conversations with him and the words you so badly wanted to say but never did.

"Heroes die young anyways, might as well live as a villain."

The words fit so perfectly your opinion. You had heard all about the heroes who had died and sometimes when he went off on missions your heart would go still and throat dry. You would worry about him constantly, worry whether or not he was alive or dead and if he was in danger or safe.

It was tiring. Constantly being worried and knowing you'd either be stuck with the worry or join him. Join his side and turn your back on everything you've ever known.

So, when he got busy, you got lost. At least for a while, that was until you heard he was back in town and looking for you. And though it hurt, though it hurt viciously you avoided him best you could.

However, he was Red Robin and an amazing detective, it didn't take long for him to find you.

"Y/N, stop."

You froze, locking your jaw and shaking your head. He had found you... and-and part of you wondered who had told him. You'd left no trace and hid in a place he wouldn't expect. Used cash and a fake name.

Something people in Gotham do often. So how- even though he was an amazing detective, how did he find you?

You turned seeing him standing in the doorway dressed in costume panting. He looked relief and hurt and every part of you wanted to lean into him, let him talk to you and talk you out of hiding once again. But-but you knew better.

"What? Come to order me around again?"

Red Robin shook his head and you laughed, bitterly; you didn't want to even give him a chance to 'make things right'.

You laughed, feeling something building up in your throat and a stinging starting in your eyes. Letting out a breath you swallowed tears, fighting off the words and shouts you wanted to say but after a year, after so much heart break you couldn't do it.

"Did I ever really matter to you? Or was it all just a game?"

Red Robin flinched and you shook your head, feeling the hot tears spill down your face. Your throat burned and everything began to blur. You couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't take the worry or the pain. Not anymore.

"I-i I can't do this anymore!"

Sniffing you shook your head and wiped at your eyes. Everything was falling apart despite the fact that you so badly want to be with him and so badly wanted him to be safe.

"I'm tired of worrying, I'm tired of having to watch my every move so I don't upset you! I don't want to be controlled! I don't want to have be stuck with the idea of you- and you being dead! Just leave, go away!"

"I'm not going away," He began taking a step closer to you, " I-I'm worried as well and and, I wasn't trying to control you. At least I didn't mean to come across this way. I just thought you'd be safer and-and I want you to be safe. But if you don't want to, if you don't want to, I won't make you."

You narrowed your eyes; your breath hiccupping and you shook your head. You'd been lied to too many times by others and it was clear he was-he was like them. Right?

"I don't believe you, so just go. Leave."

There was silence and you let out a breath shaking your head tears hot on your face.

"Like you did?"

Red Robin-no Tim's voice was cracking, and you heard the pain. Ir was almost as if you felt it yourself. You whorled around to meet his eyes, his actual eyes not ones hidden behind a mask.

“Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” You snapped hiccupping even more, "you will never understand how difficult it was for me. To hide and leave every time I heard you were back in town. It nearly killed me."

The words raced from your lips making a weight in your chest increase.

“And why is that?” He asked stepping forwards

Throwing your hands out you shouted, "Because I’m in love with you."

Tim blinked and swallowed. His face flushing red and you panted turning away from him. How could you just say that? How could you tell him when you were trying so hard to push him away?

A hand was on your shoulder, and you were spun around coming face to face with him. Face red and mouth twitching Tim looked you in the eyes, clearly reluctantly.

"You-you love me?"

You looked away from him and nodded slowly. Even though you've spent a year of pain and worry you couldn't help but love him. You couldn't help but want to keep him close and keep him alive.

"And-and what do you think I feel about you?"

You blinked, looking towards him. Clearly, he-he... you hadn't thought of it. Did he feel the same or or was it more complicated? Did he just want to control you? If so, why didn't he leave people watching over you when he left? Why didn't he push his ideals more?

"I," You began, "I don't know."

"I feel the same way, idiot!"

You sniffed looking up at him and swatted at him chest.

"Rude." You said.

He smiled and leaned forwards, pressing his forehead against yours he sighed.

"Please don't leave again."

You swallowed and looked at his face pressed against yours. He didn't want you to leave and was asking instead of telling. There was no way he-he was controlling right?

"I'll try." You replied wrapping your arms around him, "I'll try."

Tag List:

@andromedaj2003 @daemonnix96 @zvtanna @masset-fotia @thomasbeloved @thefallingstarlight @krswrites

#drabble #baby angst #baby fluff #fem!reader #batfam #batboys #tim drake #reader #y/n #antihero! reader #tim drake x reader #reader x tim drake #batboys x y/n #red robin x reader #red robin x y/n #prompts #requests #redhead batgal #reader x batboy #batkids #batboys x reader #timothy drake #tim drake x fem!reader #y/n x tim drake #red robin #dc comcis #fanfics

[bluegiragi]

human.

early access + nsfw on patreon

more backstory that i wrote up for patreon heh:

Simon and Tommy had a complicated relationship as brothers. 

At a young age, Simon basically wrote himself off as a lost cause, and did the best he could to make sure at least Tommy had a chance to be a functioning human being. After all, Tommy was the gentler brother, the dreamer, the one who looked like their mother (who'd walked out on them years ago to escape their father). But Tommy got bitter, got sick of the one always being protected, being babied. He lost respect for Simon, for the way he wouldn't fight back, and in a twisted way, grew closer to his father as a way to learn how to be powerful, strong. It backfired, and Tommy got wrapped up in some bad business.

Simon's kid brother died while he was deployed. He got the news in the letter, and it broke him in a big way. In the story timeline, it was years and years ago but it still hurts like hell whenever Simon thinks about him. 

#cw: child abuse #i decided to do my own take on simon's backstory for this au #it has the same broad strokes as his canon one but at this point #i feel like ive earned the right to tweak canon #at least in this au hehe #baby simon <3 <3 <3 #he tried his best #the hc is that simon is the son who looks like his dad #and tommy was the son who looks like his mum #so theres more angst when u consider the way he probably thinks of it as the wrong son persisting #simon ghost riley #tommy riley #cod mw2 #monster 141 au #giragi art

[kamaluhkhan]

THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer. 

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.” 

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous. 

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?” 

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in. 

“what? n-no!” 

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you. 

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp. 

it just didn't seem fair. 

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods. 

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest. 

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest. 

every  demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they  didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself. 

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?” 

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching. 

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.” 

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.” 

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze. 

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too. 

“she deserved more.” 

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there. 

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do. 

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise. 

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.” 

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm. 

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.  

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day. 

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.” 

luke bristled at your nickname for him. 

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go. 

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.  

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in. 

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly. 

 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again. 

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down. 

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse. 

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled. 

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” 

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.  

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning. 

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone? 

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one. 

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward." 

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you. 

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp. 

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.  

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready. 

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him. 

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through. 

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him. 

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power. 

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood. 

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased. 

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess. 

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson. 

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?” 

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken. 

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.” 

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer. 

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.  

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too. 

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time. 

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more. 

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips. 

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die. 

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy. 

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away. 

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze. 

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse. 

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse. 

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.” 

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality. 

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie. 

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat. 

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him. 

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for. 

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did. 

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it. 

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair. 

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates. 

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes. 

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.” 

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes. 

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that. 

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you. 

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?” 

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush. 

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….” 

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right. 

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for. 

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached. 

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?” 

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?” 

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.” 

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said. 

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow. 

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air. 

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch. 

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp. 

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him. 

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment. 

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door. 

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire. 

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.  

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god. 

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy. 

everything was falling into place. 

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.  

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you. 

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles. 

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist. 

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him. 

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey. 

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy. 

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?” 

 “they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true. 

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him. 

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it. 

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down. 

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet. 

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog. 

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more. 

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously. 

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated. 

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind. 

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well. 

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.” 

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe! 

would you hate him, if you knew? 

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage. 

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?” 

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns. 

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.” 

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment. 

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips. 

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe. 

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his. 

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath. 

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time. 

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted. 

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor. 

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother. 

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock. 

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.” 

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being. 

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.” 

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.  

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone.  we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor. 

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape. 

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice. 

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head. 

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life. 

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

#this is my baby fr #really feeling the tragic hero vibe down to my core #will prob do a part 2 from reader's POV! #ofc inspired by get him back! bc nemesis!reader.... #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan smut #saf writes #Spotify

[pigeonleap]

"Someday, I'll be the greatest leader that ThunderClan's ever seen!" "Yeah, and I'll be your medicine cat!"

If only you had held on a little longer.

[repost because I forgot the whiskers on the 2nd slide and it was going to haunt me]

#warrior cats #warriors #wc #squirrelflight #leafpool #pigeonleap #a starless clan spoilers #a starless clan #asc spoilers #squirrelstar #I am not sorry #always an excuse for squilf and/or leaf angst #my baby all grown up

[tooshnado]

some things never change

#helluva boss #hellaverse #helluva boss blitz #fanart #fizzarolli helluva boss #fizzarolli #helluva boss season 2 #my artwork #my art #fizzarolli fanart #helluva boss fanart #fanartist #vivzieverse #cookin up angst again #they are friends #i will never shut up abt them #blitzo #baby fizz #baby blitz

[alligatorpie1945]

"Twenty minutes later he’d made it back to his room with no memory of the journey and the taste of vomit stuck in the back of his throat.

No one asked what he’d done - it was an unspoken rule, never to ask - but Wrecker opened his arms and let Crosshair disappear into them without a word."

--Twelve Seconds by @eriexplosion

About a year or so ago I asked for fanfic submissions to be turned into comics! And this was one of them! I had actually started drawing this a year ago, but just now got around to finishing it!

It's a pretty heavy fic, but its short and really well written! Id suggest checking it out if your in angsty mood!

#the bad batch #fanart #tbb #star wars #art #tech #crosshair #wrecker #clone cadets #the baby batch #angst #fanfiction fanart #fan comic

[starrycassi]

HC that Neil is INSANELY good at cleaning after himself. He never leaves crumbs when he eats. He never puts receipts down anywhere. He constantly changes his routine in small ways. He is literally always erasing himself, making sure to leave no clues for them to catch him with. Never stepping in mud because muddy footsteps are way easier to track. Making sure that his hair is not falling. He picks up everything after himself, even the smallest things. He can use a room and leave it like no one was there, ever. He doesn't have eidetic memory like Andrew — but he's just, if not more, meticulous.

It breaks everyone's hearts when they see this. He leaves the kitchen and it's like he's never been here. If you looked for clues of him in the foxhole, you would never find them. For some time, outside of the pictures that Dan took and his own possessions, there is no way to tell that Neil josten lives there.

Until, one day, there is.

#aftg #aftg hc #neil aftg #neil josten #angst hours baby

[audaciousadvisers]

Based on this tumblr post I found out about how bro strider would say this, so I made it come to life.

#bro strider #homestuck #dave strider #baby #bad parenting #sunglasses #light angst

[sweeneydino]

Father and Son.

Happy ending

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #art #rottmnt comic #rottmnt leo #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt art #artwork #angst #baby turtles #turtle tots #i definitely didnt do this cause some one made me mad #not at all #tmnt art #rottmnt movie #tw death #tw blood #splinter is trying

[ky-landfill]

Hello beautiful artist may I perhaps ask for Jason possibly comforting Dick? I feel it’s an under appreciated genre

#nightwing #robin #dick grayson #jason todd #prompt response #nga mihi <3 #youre rising on a new horizon somewhere far away #but like the glow of dusk your warmth lingers #now serving: angst #baby jason

[msgexymunson]

Rumour

Description: you share with Eddie, your older neighbour, the rumours you've heard about him. They might not be all fictitious...

Warnings: smutty smutty smut smut, lotta angst, tiny fluff. NSFW, Minors DNI I will whack you with a dinner plate, Eddie is mid 30s, tattoo artist, dom, reader uses sher/her pronouns, sub, fem! Oral receiving, praise kink, potential for Sir kink, a tiny bit of penis handling, p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks) genital and tongue piercings.

A/N: well, this thought gripped to the inside of my thighs and refused to let go. I had to share it with you before I started humping my furniture. Have fun. Again I'm English so I try with the Americanisms, anything I got wrong soz babe. BTW ST 4pt2 never happened soz babycakes ❤ Reblogs are what keep me alive FR. They keep Tumblr alive (and my own heart beating)! If you want more smut reblog my stuff. I'll love you forever, promise.❤

Masterlist Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

5.2k words

Walking back to your ground floor apartment after your shift, your feet aching, you spot your neighbour sitting on a lawn chair in the courtyard smoking a cigarette. Your incredibly hot, older neighbour. Mr Munson.

The neighbour that sends shivers up your spine at the mere mention of him. The neighbour that you think about at night when you're in bed, all alone.

No doubt about it, he looked both hot and intimidating. Not that you would care to admit but that was entirely your type. Mid thirties, broad shouldered, and appeared to be as confident as a wolf, and about as self assured. He reminded you of one; gruff looking, proud, stalking around, making you feel like prey.

He looked particularly jaw dropping tonight in a black button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up; part of his muscular arms were on display, covered in countless tattoos. You've heard that he works in one of the tattoo shops down town. In fact you've heard a lot about him, but that was one rumour that you actually believed.

Elbows resting on his knees, his messy hair fell in waves just brushing his shoulders, full lips taking a drag on a rolled cigarette. Peeking out of his shirt collar, between the waves of hair, you can see a skull like tattoo on the side of his neck.

Is that new? Oh God, he's so hot. Okay just walk past, act normal.

You saunter past him with as much confidence as you could muster.

"Hey Mr Munson." You nod in his direction, trying to stop your voice quaking, fumbling for your keys.

"Hey sweet thing. You good?"

Jesus, does he really need to call me that?

The nickname travels to the pit of your stomach making you squirm hotly.

"Yeah sir, just a long shift at the bar. Idiots tonight, you know?"

Mr Munson shifts in his chair taking a sudden breath in.

"Shit sweetheart, sorry to hear that. Wanna talk about it?"

Well, it couldn't hurt, right?

You flop down in the chair bedside him, gesturing for a drag on his cigarette.

"Can I?"

He smiles wickedly and puts his roll up to your mouth. The roughness of his fingertips brushes on your lips making you clench, almost rucking your hips up, albeit briefly. You hope he doesn't notice. Of course he does.

Taking half a hit you realise that it's not a fucking cigarette, it's a blunt. It's not like you'd never tried anything like that but it was  certainly not what you were expecting. The heavy, sweet, herb feeling lays on your tongue. Eyes wide you breathe out, coughing slightly much to his amusement.

He holds it out at you so you can take a proper hit. Sucking at the blunt so you can take it all in, your lips brush against his calloused hands, adorned with rings.

Breathing out, you gaze at him. His smile splits his face wide open, thick tongue rolling to a point, licking across his upper lip in a teasing manner. You cannot help but focus on the tongue stud pierced right through the middle of the muscle, a long stainless steel bar penetrating his whole tongue. You had certainly never noticed it before. It's presence made you wet, sticking between your thighs at the sheer thought of what he could do with it.

"Something on your mind pretty girl?" A cocky side grin plastered across his handsome features.

Shit, I was totally staring.

Blushing, you look away and try to change the subject.

"You know, you should really warn a girl before she takes a hit of a blunt."

He laughs deep in his throat. "I thought you knew! So, why was today so terrible?"

"Just customers thinking that I'm nice to them because I want them, not because it's literally my fuckin' job. Couple dudes tried to hit on me, one of them grabbed my ass." You sigh into the night air.

"Shit, I hope you taught him a lesson."

"Of course, hit him on the head with my tray."

He laughs out loud at that, throwing his head back. You gawp at his neck, sexy stubble running down past his Adam's apple. Turning his head towards you, he flashes his teeth.

"Didn't know you had it in you. Good girl."

Holy shit.

Your whole lower body clenches at his words of praise as you take in a shaky breath. The apples of your cheeks are on fire. Mr Munson gives you a knowing look, eyes glittering darkly.

You stand up on slightly unsure legs.

"Okay I'm- I'm gonna have a shower. See you around Mr Munson."

You fumble for your keys. Turning to your door you hear a gravelly voice behind you.

"Eddie. Call me Eddie."

********************

A few nights later and your surrounded by the rough brick interior of the bar, busy wiping down sticky tables. There's only half an hour until closing; half an hour and you can go home and rest. It's pretty empty tonight, just three regulars dotted around in the semi dark, nursing their drinks.

You haven't been able to get your latest encounter with Mr Munson, sorry, Eddie, off your mind. You liked to think you were a strong independent woman. You were 22 after all; having had to live on your own since you were 18, life hadn't exactly been kind. You had to be strong to survive. So why exactly was it that a few moments with Eddie had turned you into a blushing, giggling school girl? He had disarmed you with a few words and a rough grin and now you couldn't stop thinking of him. All he had done was call you a good girl and you turned into one. A simpering mess.

Doing a final sweep for glasses, you make your way back behind the bar just as the door opens and a brisk breeze blows in.

Oh fuck its him.

You see his broad frame silhouetted in the doorway for a moment, leather jacket hanging open. His wild mane is in a low messy bun for once, tendrils of loose hair moving in the wind. He stalks over to you and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. Dark eyes finding yours, he leans against the bar on one elbow, towering over you.

Plastering your customer service mask across your face; social armour to hide the nerves, you smile at him.

"Well good evening sir, what can I get ya?"

He grins at you devilishly, biting his lip, like he wants to devour you whole.

"What did I tell you? Call me Eddie."

"Sorry Eddie."

"Good girl. I'll have a bourbon, please."

Only just realising your mouth is hanging open, you slam it shut, cheeks burning. He looks at you smugly, like he's just proven a theory. Your body goes on autopilot, grabbing a glass, adding ice, measuring bourbon.

When you hand his drink over he slides over a twenty dollar bill.

"Keep the change."

You blink at him. "I couldn't, it's too much-"

"Then have a drink on me. I just finished a piece and got paid today. I'm celebrating."

You wouldn't usually, but you're on your own and it's nearly closing. Fuck it.

You pour yourself a bourbon, adding a dash of soda water to yours and take a sip. Eddie beams at you.

"Well thank you." You smile back at him, losing yourself in those dark brown eyes of his, watching the way the skin crinkles at the corners when he grins.

He sticks the ball of his tongue piercing out, rolling it between his lips as he stares at you. It seems like a subconscious movement, you're not sure he's aware that he's doing it.

"Why do you have that?" You blurt out, word vomit pouring off your tongue.

"Have what, pretty girl?" You're staring at his mouth, and he understands, sticking his tongue out at you.

"Thith?" He lisps at you, still poking his tongue out. Giggling, you nod.

His hand drops to the bar, thumb reaching out, stroking back and forth over the knuckles on the back of your hand. An involuntary shiver creeps down your spine at the touch of his rough skin.

"Oh, sweet thing. I think you know exactly what it's for."

His eyes are deep pools, inviting you in. Your thighs clench at his words, biting your lip.

"Oh."

He smirks at you, humming. You pull your hand away, looking at the time.

"Er, just a sec."

You move away slightly and shout out last call. Two of the patrons leave; the other walks over to the bar, slight stagger to his step. Serving him a final Scotch, he pounds it back and walks outside.

It's just you and Eddie. All alone.

"I've got to, um, finish closing up."

"I'll give you a ride if you'll have another drink with me."

You open your mouth. Then close it.

He pouts at you, looking at you with big doe eyes. "Please?"

Well fuck.

"Okay, just let me finish up."

You collect the rest of the glasses, wipe down the last of the sides and sort the nights takings, getting it all in the small safe in the back room.

After locking the front door you return, hang your bar apron up and pour the drinks. Eddie gestures for you to join him on the bar stool next to his. You perch on it lightly; he reaches for his wallet but you wave it away.

"No, I've already done the takings, this ones on me. For the ride, you know."

He shrugs, returning the wallet to his back pocket.

"So" you say, taking a sip of your drink, "you said you finished a piece. You're a tattoo artist, right?"

"Yep, that's right."

"Thought so, I heard a rumour."

"Rumour, eh? What else you heard?" Eyes glittering, he took a mouthful of bourbon.

You giggle "Hmm, well, I heard you were some Satanic cult leader in high school-"

He waved that off, "oh that's so old. If playing D&D is satanic then I'm the devil himself." He sticks his tongue out again, creating little horns with his fingers on his forehead.

You laugh at that, starting to finally feel at ease in his company. The bourbon helped.

"Someone said you sacrificed a goat in the woods once."

He nearly spits his drink at that one. "Now that's more like it, even I've not heard that one. Got any more?"

You blush, realising you've only heard one more.

"I heard you had... other piercings." You mumble, not wanting to say it too loud despite the lack of company.

"What other piercings?" He eyes never leave yours as he finishes his drink.

You're sure it's not normal to have so much blood in your cheeks. You can hear the blood swooshing in your ears. Finishing your own drink for courage, you gaze down at your hands in your lap.

"I heard you have a pierced..."

"Dick?" He ducks his head, trying to catch your eye again, cheeky smile on his face.

"Yeah." Your whole body feels hot and small under his gaze.

He just smirks at you and shrugs.

Is that a no? A yes? Now I'm dying to know!

He winks at your obvious frustration and says "come on I'll take you home."

********************

The ride home in Eddie's Mustang is uneventful. A little small talk is shared, but mostly you're staring out the window, trying to catch glimpses of him when he wasn't looking, eyes wandering to his crotch.

Pretty soon he was dropping you off at your front door, hand leaning on the door frame, crowding into your personal space. Just breathing the same air as him felt suffocating in the best way.

"Well, goodnight then sweet thing." He winks at you, glancing at your lips. For a split second you think he's going to kiss you, but he breaks away and turns to leave.

"Do you wanna come in?" Shit did I just say that out loud?

"You sure?"

You nod and he throws you a wolfish grin. You've never felt so much like a lamb in your entire life. You may as well baa at this point.

You lead him into your tiny apartment, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch, turning on a couple of dim lamps as you go. He flops down, manspreading, large hand resting on his knee.

"You want another drink? I've got bourbon but no ice I'm afraid."

"Sure thing sweets." He responds whilst slipping his jacket off, placing it on a nearby chair.

"You mind if I smoke? Just a cigarette, promise."

You smile at the reference, "sure, there's an ashtray just there."

He pulls out a pre rolled smoke, lighting it and taking a few drags.

When you've poured the drinks you make your way to the other side of the couch, placing the glasses on the coffee table. He offers his cigarette to you. As you nod, he shifts closer, holding it to your lips. You take a couple of drags, relishing the feel of his fingers on your mouth. Every time your skin touches his it sends a flutter through your nerves.

You watch him take a sip of his drink, seeing him press that perfect bottom lip to the glass. He drinks and puts the glass down. Not even looking your way, he says "something you wanna share, pretty girl?"

"Do you? Is it?" You say doltishly. Well done, real eloquent.

"You really wanna know, huh?"

"Yes!" You say loudly, bourbon well and truly in the drivers seat for that one.

He laughs and looks at you dead in the eye, another chance to make you squirm.

"Yes."

Gaping at him for a few seconds, your brain and mouth finally connect.

"Do you- did it hurt? What's it look like? What kinda-"

Stopping you mid babble with a wave of his hand, he simply asks, "you wanna see it?"

Brain short circuiting, you merely stare at him dumbfounded. You nod, curiosity well and truly getting the best of you.

He stands up and undoes his belt, sound echoing through the apartment. Your gaze is fixated on his large hands as they deftly unbutton his jeans. A glimpse of a tattoo teases you on his lower abdomen. His happy trail is peeking out, leading to the large thatch of hair that snakes down to his manhood. You swallow hard.

He slowly pulls his boxers down and you scoot closer to have a look. It emerges from the fabric, to your surprise half hard.

You gape at it. You've seen dicks before. A handful. And they are just that, a handful. This is more than a handful. You think you'd struggle to get your hand around his. The girth of it was truly intimidating. It certainly looked long too, and that was at half mast.

The end of it was pink and rounded, and the piercing went through the slit at the top, down to the underside of the tip. The piercing was thicker than you imagined, a curved bar with thick steel balls on either end. You never thought you would be into this sort of thing, but just looking at it made you think about what it felt like. What it tasted like. You wet your lips and continue to stare.

On instinct, your hand reaches out. You only notice when it meets the roughness of his jeans, touching ever so closely to his exposed member.

You look up at Eddie's face. He's looking right back at you sinfully.

"Did it hurt?"

"Not as much as you'd think. Ached like a bitch the first time I got a boner though."

You giggle, staring at it again.

"Can I touch it?" What the hell. It just slipped out, unbidden. You see his dick twitch at the thought.

Eddie chuckles darkly. "Did you seriously just ask if you-"

"Sorry that was dumb of me-"

"Sure you can sweet thing."

Before your mind can even comprehend what's happening, your hand shoots forward with sudden bravery, reaching out to hold it. You inspect the tip, looking at the piercing, feeling his hardness grow under your delicate touch. Inquisitively you rub the jewellery with your thumb, inadvertently smoothing the pad of your thumb over his tip in the process. Eddie hisses through his teeth.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt?"

"No," Eddie manages through gritted teeth, "just felt really fuckin' good."

Oh.

You back off, moving your hands from his piercing and placing them in your lap. He tucks himself away again, doing up his jeans, subconsciously palming his length.

"Well? What do you think?" He sits on the couch next to you, denim clad knee touching yours.

"It's really big Eddie."

He laughs, throwing his arm over the back of the sofa.

"You talkin' about the piercing or my dick?"

"Both." You couldn't help it. It had to be said. It was true. You knock your drink back, feeling entirely too sober for this conversation.

Eddie's mouth splits into a lazy smug smile. Finishing his own drink, he turns to you, eyes roaming over your body.

"So, do I get a turn now sweet thing?"

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "At what?"

Well, you got to touch me. Can I touch you?"

Your eyes widen at his brazen attitude, but you'd be lying if you said this wasn't the reason you had invited him in in the first place. The very air around you feels heavy, hot with anticipation.

"Ok."

You stand up shakily, mirroring his movements from earlier, unsure hands unbuttoning your jeans. Eddie's eyes travel down to your core, predatory gaze shamelessly wandering over you. Your jeans are a little big, slipping straight to your ankles when they're undone. You kick them off and away. Standing there in your tank top and tiny white panties you've never felt so exposed in your life.

Eddie stands up for a second looking down at you, eyes shining with mischief. He winks, and drops to his knees between the couch and the coffee table, grabbing your hips and pulling you to face him.

Sizeable hands hovering over the hem of your underwear, he looks up at you. "Can I? Can I take these off?"

You nod, cheeks flaring with heat.

Eddie licks his lips, eyes never leaving your cunt. "I'm gonna need you to say it, sweet thing."

"Y-yes Eddie." You manage to stumble out.

"Atta girl."

He peels them off. They stick for a moment between your thighs, slick and heat pouring from your core. The tops of your thighs are already damp with expectancy. Your muscles clench, pressing together with angst. Eddie pries your thighs apart slightly, thumbs massaging calming circles into the flesh.

Eddie presses a kiss to your mound, stubble scratching the delicate skin ever so slightly.

"Eddie what are you doing?"

"You said I can touch you."

"Yeah, so why-"

Eddie's tongue pushes between your folds firmly, tongue bar flicking right over your clit.

The noise you make is nearly inhuman, breath knocked out of your lungs in shock. Your legs buckle at the knees, ass falling to the carpet. He takes the opportunity to wedge his head between your legs, your thighs pushed as wide as far as the narrow space allowed, stuck between the sofa and the table.

His stubble is burning the insides of your thighs, roughly rubbing against your soft skin. Eddie licks into you, pushing his tongue inside your hole. You feel the warm wetness of his thick tongue and the foreign bump of hard steel forcing shockwaves of pleasure into you. The moan he rips from you reverberates in your chest, full of want.

Eddie groans into you, tongue making it's way to your clit, running in dizzying circles. The feeling is almost too much as you buck up into him, writhing your back on the carpet.

"Oh my God, Eddie!"

You can practically feel him smirking against your dripping pussy, getting his large hands underneath your ass so he can push his face into you even further. His tongue is everywhere, eating you out messily, hungry for you. The occasional rub of steel sends your senses into overload, hips rutting shamelessly into his face.

He moves one hand from underneath you and pushes two fingers deep onto your cunt. You're on the verge of screaming, tears gathering in your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure. The pressure of your desire collects in the pit of your stomach.

His fingers make you feel so full, reaching somewhere you've never been able to touch on your own. The rough sure movements of his hand so close to sending you over the edge, pussy grateful to have something to clench around.

"Eddie! Holy fuck." You cry out, an unsolicited tear spilling from your eye.

Eddie's mouth unlatches from your heat briefly.

"You gonna come, pretty girl? Come on, soak my face, that's my girl." And he's diving straight back in, tongue movements unmatched, strong fingers fucking into you. Desperate, filthy noises pour from your throat at the sudden onslaught.

Tensing up, you feel the unimaginable tight hot ball of desire suddenly drop. The feeling ignites through you like wildfire, coalescing into a burning, broken scream of his name.

Once you've chased your release as far as it could possibly take you, your back finally touches the floor again. Eddie moves away from you, sitting up, gazing at your fucked out form. Panting, flushing, sweating, you manage to look at him.

Eddie looks wild, feral, hair a mess, face covered and dripping with your slick. You can even see a wet shiny patch on his forehead. You giggle, dopey in your post orgasm haze.

"What? Have I got something on my face?" Eddie stares at you unblinking. You laugh loudly at that, pointing to where it was on his forehead. He laughs back and pulls his t shirt off, wiping his sticky face all over it before tossing it onto the sofa.

Your eyes go wide at the sight of him shirtless. Taunt, muscular frame, dark patch of hair covering his chest, matching the rough hair of his happy trail. He is littered with tattoos, some dark and bold, others lighter and faded. There's small patches of alabaster skin here and there. He's glistening, clearly having worked up a slight sweat just from the force of which he'd eaten you out. Muscles shining, catching the dim light.

He catches your lust filled stare and leans over you, caging your head with his strong arms.

"So, you wanna know why I've got the other piercing?" Sinful smirk turning his mouth up at the corners.

You crash your lips into his, throwing your arms around his neck. Desperate hands snake into his hair as you open your mouth to deepen the kiss. Eddie's kisses are messy but skilful, one hand moulding to the back of your head, pushing you towards him almost painfully. The need for each other is tangible, bodies colliding, rolling into one another. He sits up, pulling you along with him by the waist, tongue continuously dipping into your mouth. Finally, you break from the kiss just to breathe. It's like all the air has been sucked from the room and all you can breathe is Eddie.

He's kissing along your jaw line, down your neck; yearning, robust kisses. Heaving breaths are coming from each of you.

"Bedroom?' Eddie manages between heavy panting and pecks.

You gesture to the hall and he wastes no time in standing up, pulling you along with him, eliciting a surprised squeal from you. You wrap your legs around his waist, firm hands holding you steady, as he attempts to navigate your hallway whilst still kissing you.

Nearly tripping on your discarded jeans, he slams your back into the wall. You couldn't care less, tongue invading his mouth, pressing your naked heat against his solid bulge. His groans are so low they're almost growls, bearish and dominant. He takes the opportunity to press your form against the wall so he can pull your tank top over your head, eyes rolling back at your braless chest.

Finally, he carries you through your bedroom door, dropping you onto the bed. Unbuckling his belt and exposing himself to you for the second time today, this time he's taking his clothes off completely, standing in front of you naked in all his glory. Further tattoos cover his hairy legs, you see his thick thighs flexing. He gives you a ravening look; predacious in its delivery, with a smile that belies the lust in his eyes.

Quivering before him, he roughly widens your legs and slots his hips in between. You feel the hard shaft of his dick pressing against your slick folds, whimpering at the contact.

Hovering over you, one of his hands engulfs the side of your face, stroking down to your chin, holding you there. You stare at him open mouthed, consumed by the feeling of him rubbing up and down your wet pussy.

"You sure you want this, sweet thing?"

"Yes, Eddie please." Your voice doesn't sound like you, its smaller, meek. Your eyes plead with him.

Leaning in to you further, his hot breath whispers, deep voice on the shell of your ear. "Are you sure you can take it? Can you be a good girl for me?"

You moan loudly at him, small hands clasping at his biceps in desperation.

"Yes, please Eddie, I'll be so good for you!" You writhe underneath him.

He chuckles, biting his lip. "I knew you were into that. You got a condom?"

"No I'm on the pill, I need you, please."

"Holy shit." Eddie wastes no more time, rubbing his cock up against your entrance, strange feeling of the piercing hard against your slippery cunt.

He starts to push into you and your mouth falls open, no sound coming out. You grip his shoulders hard, trying so hard to take him. The stretch is intense. He's looking at you with concern, softer than he's ever looked at you.

"You gotta relax, my good girl, or its gonna hurt."

You nod, pupils blown, trying so hard not to clench around him. He bottoms out, the final push making you whimper.

Stroking your face, he gives you a moment to adjust.

"So fuckin' beautiful like this."

Your cheeks burn at the praise, lips enveloping his in a soft kiss.

He moves, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, a loud whine escaping from your lips. The burning feeling has been replaced with pure ecstasy. You're sure you can feel the steel of the piercing hitting that spot inside you.

Thrusting into you slowly a couple of times, you already feel pressure in your stomach, knots tied tight and begging to be released. The sensation tightens further, shoots of it flying down your legs and up your spine. You clench around him hard, moaning.

"Fuck Eddie I'm gonna cum, fuck." You pant out, eyes wide.

"Already? Shit you're gonna give me an ego."

"You already- oh God, fuck- you already have one."

He laughs loud and thrusts into you harder. Instantly you release, the ropes holding your stomach snapping. You come with a high pitched squeal of his name. You hear your wetness before you can feel it, a squelching noise resonating with each drive into your sopping cunt.

"Oh fuck, sweet thing, you squirted. Soaked me. You're- perfect" he groans. You keen at the praise.

Getting on his knees he pulls you bodily into him, slamming into you harder, hands digging at the flesh of your hips. You've never felt so full in your life, his cock piercing nudging your g spot with each thrust.

Eddie's grunting with effort, hair completely loose now, wild around his shoulders. Your fingernails bite into his flexing muscles leaving crescent moons in their wake.

"Shit, sweet thing, oh fuck."

Eddie pushes himself forcefully back on top of you, folding you in half, knees pressed against your stomach.

"Oh Eddie!"  It's just so overwhelming. You're full to the brim with him, satisfaction coating your insides, eyelids coated with emotion. Tears spring out the corners of your eyes, running down your temples. You're trembling, inundated with emotion and sensation.

"Hey, hey, you ok?" He slows.

"Yes fuck please Eddie don't fucking stop!"

Grinning wickedly he thrusts into you without restraint, slamming his hip bones into the flesh of your thighs, cock breaching you like nothing ever before.

Clamping down around him, your third orgasm is an ocean; wave after wave of sinful pleasure washing over the very fabric of your being, stripping you back to your bare components and leaving you breathless, sweating, and as exposed as a raw nerve. You babble, and cry, and whine his name, eyes tight shut, utterly taken by the moment.

Eddie's plunges into you start to falter. Feeling him twitching, becoming impossibly harder inside you he comes, spilling his seed deep into your cunt. The warm, rushing feeling just expands the length of your own release, waves finally ebbing and retreating.

Eddie pulls out from you, leaving you feeling emptier than ever before. He lies on his side next to you, thumb approaching to rub a stray tear from your cheek. You're both perspiring; glowing forms gasping for air.

Finally catching some semblance of breath, he strokes your cheek again, wide grin dissipating on his face.

"You ok pretty girl?"

"Yeah you could say that." You huffed a laugh, still trying to focus on how he'd made you feel.

"But you cried?" Its a question, but he looks concerned, hands attempting to comfort you.

"It was just, so much. Too good, you know." Taking in his smirk you say "don't you let that go to your head!"

"Bit fuckin' late for that" he laughs. "C'mere."

He gathers you up in his strong arms, holding you close, and kisses you on the forehead. The affection honestly takes you by surprise, expecting him to have bolted by this point, having got what he wanted.

"Can I level with you?"

Oh shit here we go.

"I've wanted to do that since you moved in." He grins at you.

"Oh, really?" You look up at him, surprised that he'd been feeling the same as you. "Well, same. You're really hot."

He laughs and strokes your back.

"You working tomorrow?"

"No, why? Are you?"

"No. I wanna take you out somewhere, if you want." He almost looks embarrassed. Almost.

"Are you asking me out on a date Mr Munson?" You smirk at him in disbelief.

"I mean, yeah, if you wanna. Unless you just wanted this to be a one time thing, I get it, I can just leave." There's a quaver to his voice. A weakness your not used to hearing.

You stare up at him. Cocky, confident Eddie Munson, was about as unsure as you were. You giggle.

"I'd love to go on a date with you." Smiling, you attempt to hide it into his inked chest.

"So, wanna take a shower?"

"Well" you say, leaning up on your elbow, "we could. Or..."

"Or what, sweet thing?" He rubs your arm, furrowing his brow.

"Or, we could do that again."

Tag list (please reblog this fic if you want to stay in the tags ILY ❤)

@angelsarecallin @cutiecusp @pxrxcxa @spencerinmydrawls @munsquinns @sillypurplemurple @tiannamortis @walleloveseve @sinczir @biblichornerd @frogers @lauraasiain @madiisixx @leftdonkeygothgoop-blog @rafestarkeysblog @kittykatvenom @southside-serpent-bae @psychedelicsandsunsalutations @biblichornerd @angelina16torres-blog @ocean-of-rage @kirksslut @venisvendetta @pretty-vulture @munsonology @miss-nothing29 @lady-jane3 @eddiemunsonwife222 @reidslittlegenius213 @sombodynotimportant @mystars123 @bloodsuccaaa @rabbitsf00t @scrumplump @crazylove-69 @wonderfulw0rldx @ifiwereazombie @spencerinmydrawls @athenamunson1 @soggycinnamonroll @skunknuts-wine @residentdreamy @ab05 @janaedaze @midmare2000 @pollenallergie @spiderlily02 @eddiemunsonsbedroom @gumballsglassofmilk @gnomesboi3002 @kiwi-bitchez @mangodrgnfruit @skinij3fx @6charly66 @50shadesofuncomfortable @fvckpretty @the-fairy-anon @spooks97 @figsfigsfigs @cutiecusp @cherrychilli @devilinthepalemoonlite @magnificantmermaid @chickpeadumpsterfire @lightvixxen @eddiemunsonfuxks @corrodedhawkins @munson-blurbs @indouloureux @eddiemunsonsheart @eddiesprincess86

#eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan #eddie munson smut #eddie smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie fluff #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #ms gexy writes #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie imagines #eddie imagine #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie my beloved #eddie my baby #older!eddie #tattoo artist eddie munson #tattoo!au #tattoo artist!eddie #younger reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x younger reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fan fic

[deadsetobsessions]

Your name is Tim Drake and you are nine years old.

Today, tomorrow, and soon, you're going to save Robin.

----

Tim stares at his reflection on the sink tap. It trembles, along with the plane, as he contemplates his situation.

His face is rounder, now, with unfamiliar baby-fat rounding out the sharp lines he'd come to expect. Even with the subpar reflection, Tim can tell that his dark eyebags are all but gone, replaced with youthful skin.

Magic. He's being quite literal, seeing as he's been tossed into the body of his younger self at the hands of a crazed magician.

He could find a way back... or he could create a completely different timeline by fixing everything that went wrong. It's not like he has anything to go back to, anyways. That crazed magician was actually competent and killed everyone he ever cared about. Tim barely got away with his life. He could go back to save that shell of a world- surrounded by people whose minds were broken beyond magical and medical repair- or stay here, fix his own personal troubles and cut off the magician before he could start with his world domination bullshit.

Well, Tim already has an idea of what he wants. So he begins a list, after having oriented himself.

Save Robin

There's no point trying to convince Bruce that he knows where Jason's being held. So, Tim finds himself on a plane to Ethiopia a day before Jason's meant to die. This was long before Barbara even thought of being Oracle, and the tech is ancient in his hands. In short order, nine year old Tim has a trust fund with millions in it, all siphoned from billionaires like Lex Luthor and his own parents.

Tim toddles back to his seat, after washing his hands because he still can't shake the extra bit of paranoia that came with a missing spleen. Oh. Tim blinks guilelessly at his seat neighbor, smiling like Timothy Drake, Angel of a Son as he reels from the realization that he still has his spleen.

Tim adds another box to his list:

Keep Ra's away from my spleen, creepy bastard.

What else...? Ah, the League of Assassins.

Damian

Tim pauses. Holy crap. Damian's only six right now. Tim moves Damian's box upwards in urgency. Tim might have a mildly antagonistic relationship with his younger brother back then, but he wants baby pictures of his siblings, dammit. He's gonna put that photography expertise to good use if it's the last thing he does.

Watch over Z, Owens, Pru

'They're alive!' His mind screams. Cold rationality slaps the sentimentality down with a quick 'But they won't be if I fail.'

His mind wanders to Dick Grayson. He scowls as something pops up in the back of his head.

Catalina Flores

Contact Nightwing- in space

He's gotta call Dick back from that Teen Titans mission, Jason's gonna need all of the support he's going to get.

Find Cass

Train Steph

Save Duke's family from Venom

Tim taps at that last point. He'll save them. But that might mean Duke might never join their family.

But he'll be happy and Tim... will deal with it. He'll be the only one mourning, anyways. To end on a lighter note, he adds something that he should have done ages ago.

Give Tam a raise.

Tim sighs as he gets out of the airport, the hired escort he found and vetted, delivering him to a predetermined hotel. They think his parents are already inside. He laughs and does not say anything to make them think otherwise. He has so many things to do, Tim laments as he settles down to track the Joker's movements. Here. That's where Jason's being held. Being tortured.

He can, however, knock two things off his list in one go. Tim picks up the burner phone he acquired. He doesn't have time, or else he would have done this sooner and saved them all the trouble.

[RR: Are you in Ethiopia yet?]

[Deathstroke: Payment confirmed. In Ethiopia.]

[RR: Third building by the docks.]

An hour.

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Target spotted.]

Ten minutes.

[Deathstroke: Target eliminated. Bringing Robin to Safehouse.]

Twenty minutes.

[Deathstroke: Basic first aid applied. Leaving.]

[RR: Secondary payment sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Pleasure doing business with you.]

Tim sprawls on the king bed. He sighs a breath of relief. He'd check on Jason in person, if he weren't paranoid about leaving traces that would get back to him. Tim's pretty sure that Deathstroke's going to get hunted down in the near future, regardless, so he made sure to add a huge tip on top of the extra fees for burning one of Deathstroke's safe houses and the emergency first aid. He taps into the rudimentary camera Deathstroke had given him the access codes to, to stare at Jason's rising and falling chest. On a further table, the Joker's head laid in a preservation box.

He bypasses all of the security on the Teen Titan's tech to send Dick a message.

[Robin has been retrieved from the Joker. Contact Batman for details.]

Then, he sends Bruce the location of the safe house. Tim spends the rest of the day staring at Jason and watching his father in another timeline break as he huddles close to the broken body of Tim's Robin.

Timothy Drake destroys the burner phone.

#genius tim drake #tim drake angst #tim saves jason #tim hiring a hitman bc that's the one guy he doesn't really care about offing #tim: if I didn't kill him i didn't cross the line #bruce wayne #batman #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #time traveling tim drake #teen titans #deathstroke #deathstroke: wow my client must be a big crime lord to off a rogue #tim who is a baby: lol lets off him for the shits and giggles #tim drake #tim drake is not red robin #time travel fix it #dc robin

[queenimmadolla]

eddie, “jealous”, angst

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

“Why are you blowing this out of proportion?!” Eddie’s voice bellowed from behind you as you stormed out of his room with him hot on your trail.

  The last half hour had been spent arguing, speaking over each other instead of listening and you were tired of it. You didn’t want to listen to him anyways and clearly it wasn’t going anywhere so you would be.

  “SHE LIKES YOU, EDDIE! She doesn’t want to be just a customer, she doesn’t want to be your friend, she wants to fuck you!” You shouted back, as you snatched your bag from where you’d left it on the couch and whirled around to face him.

  He was red cheeked, brows cinched together, mouth set in a hard line; one grimace away from being a full blown scowl.

  Eddie floundered a bit, mouth dropping open and shut repeatedly before he found his ground and stuttered out with his arms flying about to emphasize his frustration, “So? So what!? It’s not like I’m gonna drop my pants the second she’s near!” 

  You could only stare at him in disbelief, absolutely offended that your boyfriend was well aware of her interest in him and could be that fucking stupid or that fucking careless with your feelings.

  So, you snapped.

  “‘So?’” 

  Eddie didn’t bother masking the annoyance in his excessively loud sigh, arms and shoulders dropping back as he raised his face towards the ceiling. He knew that fucking tone of yours and what it meant was coming next. 

  “SO YOU DON’T FUCKING INVITE HER OVER TO YOUR HOUSE TO BUY DRUGS! NOT WHEN YOU’VE GOT A LESS INTIMATE FUCKING PLACE ESTABLISHED TO DO YOUR DEALS AT ALREADY, EDDIE!”

  His hands dug for purchase in his hair, “OH MY GOD! Do you HEAR yourself right now? All this because you’re just jealous?!” You didn’t stop, you were back to talking over each other again, “You want her to think she’s special, Eddie? Did you give her a deal for being pretty and flirty?”

  “MAYBE I DID!” 

  Suddenly, you weren’t talking over him anymore. You didn’t even look mad. And that kind of scared him.

  The anger washed right out of you and you looked disengaged from the conversation in a manner so natural it chipped at Eddie’s heart, anxiety sinking into his belly.

  “Okay, I get it.” 

  Eddie sighed, eyes squeezing shut as realized he’d crossed an obvious line in the heat of the moment. You turned, hand on the door and Eddie’s arms darted out, desperate to stop you when you flinched away, causing Eddie to also flinch back but it was the words you so casually spoke next that made him feel like he’d been shot.

  “Please don’t fucking touch me,” The door was opened, and quietly shut behind you.

  Then you were gone and Eddie stood there like an idiot, staring at the door and hoping you’d come right back through it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson blurb #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #vivi's baby blurbs

[daneecastle]

Reversed Veil of Worlds

Pg 13 and 14

@goodomensafterdark @vavoom-sorted-art @gahellhimself-blog @lauramoon1987 @kotias @gleafer

So future Aziraphale doesn’t seem to know what he is looking at. Baby girl “Starmaker” has appeared … how? Why? There are now two red heads in that room.

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To see previous pages go to my Patreon (support will help me get them out faster) and/or Kofi (has written details about each page).

https://www.patreon.com/posts/94109347?utm_campaign=postshare_creator

https://ko-fi.com/daneecastle

#good omens #aziraphale #michael sheen #neil gaiman #david tennant #good omens fanart #comic #good omens after dark angst war #ineffable angst war #good omens angst #misses his angel #future aziraphale #angel crowley #baby girl Crowley #starmaker #kokabiel #Koka #future veils of worlds

[dumplingsjinson]

List of responses to “don’t you fucking dare die on me— stay with me, you fucking asshole—” 

(tw: death)

“I love you. Now say it back.” “Please— stop talking, save it till we get you help—” “Say it back—“ “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me—”

“Hey, at least I loved you till my very last breath, right? Like I had promised.”

“Y-you know… If there’s any place I know I’d rest easy, it would— it would be in your arms, where I’ve always… Always belonged.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t go to the very end with you.” 

“Funny how I said I’d drag you to hell with me yet I’m going to hell way earlier than you are.” “You— you idiot, this isn’t the time— just... Just shut up and stay with me, damn it—”

“Just know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Saying this before it’s too late… I’m grateful for you.”

“Kiss me one last time?” “No— no, this isn’t— it won’t be the last time—” “Just shut up and kiss me.” 

“Ha… I told you you’d outlive me.” 

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” 

“I like it better when you’re smiling, sunshine. Smile for me, please? Just so I can… Just so I can see it one last time.”

#angst prompts #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #prompts #writing prompts #writing scenarios #been watching too many movies recently where SOMEONE dies and i end up weeping over it like a fuckin’ baby #tw death

[drivergemini]

hellfire baby :: e.m.

summary: when starting a new campaign, the hellfire club didn’t except to see a toddler sitting in their club leader’s throne

content warning: parenting & pregnancy, talks about teen parenting, swearing, basically really fluffy, child’s features mostly based off of eddie

word count: 1013

when all of the hellfire boy’s entered through the theater room’s doors, they felt a huge rush of excitement. eddie had been hyping up his new campaign for about a month and told everyone that he was going to do something real special for their first meeting. 

what they did not expect was a small little girl, maybe around 1 or 2 years old, sitting in their dungeon master’s place. she had a pink dragon onesie on and her big brown eyes stared back at the group. 

“why good evening lovely gentlemen.” eddie popped out from behind his throne, holding a small sandwich bag filled with ‘star wars’ cookies. he handed it to the child with barely any acknowledgement and she gladly grabbed it with eager hands. “are you lads ready to start this wonderful campaign?”

each boy had their own looks of confusion on their faces. they looked at eddie and then the child, then back again.

“eddie why the hell is there a baby here?” dustin was the one who spoke up. 

eddie’s face sported a wide grin. “well guys i would like to introduce you to the surprise i mentioned.” he scooped up the little girl and presented her to the d&d club memebers. “everyone this is my daughter mei. say hi mei mei.”

“hi mei mei.” the little voice spoke a she waved a tiny hand to the boys. she tugged her onesie hood down, reveling long, brown hair, just like her dad’s.

“daughter? eddie we didn’t even know you could speak to girls?” mike chimed in.

“well wheeler, if it matters to you, i don’t speak to girls because i already have my fiance.” he raised his eyebrows at the last part. 

you see, eddie munson didn’t become a super-super senior because he was dumb. he became a super-super senior because he accidentally got his high school girlfriend pregnant. they had been together since they were 16. eddie and y/n were going great until the summer before their senior year. y/n’s pregnancy took a large toll to both of their academics, so eddie decided he would try and lighten his girlfriend’s stress load. on april 29th, 1984, their daughter was born. 

he thought y/n’s future was too bright for her to be held back, so after she gave birth he let her continue as an almost normal high school student. eddie didn’t get to graduate that year. but he did get to hold his baby as he watched the love of his life walk the stage. 

he didn’t graduate his second senior year either. he was too caught up in healthy parenting and making sure he was there to watch his daughter’s firsts. he watched her first steps, her first time eating solid foods, and even heard her first word. ‘dragon’.

so here he was, his third senior year, finally ready to walk that stage.

as eddie finished up the story he heard a sniff. all heads turned toward the direction of lucas. 

“dude that story was so beautiful. i didn’t even know that.”

“yeah most people don’t except a few people who were in school during that time like harrington. but y/n kind of chose to drop off the map so it isn’t talked about much.” eddie sat down in his chair and placed his daughter on his lap. “now that introductions are out of the way, shall we get started?”

- 

eddie’s new campaign was centered around exploring an abandoned gem mine to figure out what was terrorizing the near by townsfolk. 

“so little dwarf, you enter the cave with your mates behind you. as you guide them with your light, the air becomes increasingly warm. as you approach the growing heat, you see a shimmer of pink scales.”

“munson you did not...” dustin starts as his hands grip the table.

“you raise your torch higher and you see her in all her glory...” eddie lifts mei off of his lap and places her in the middle of the table. “mei the fire breathing dragon.”

all the boys start to exclaim in frustration. what kind of sick father makes his own kid the first boss of his d&d campaign? eddie munson that’s who. after explaining they all need a time out to discuss, they all huddled in the corner. 

“dude what are we going to do? we can’t slay the dragon. i mean look at her, she’s adorable!” dustin whispered.

“i mean honestly if you think about it, it’s just a game.” mike said. typical.

“yes but the moral principal of it is, eddie knows that we would have to be sick son’s of bitches to kill a kid. especially his daughter.” dustin explained frustrated. 

him and mike felt a little wedge between their legs. they all looked down to see mei still holding her bag of cookies. 

“tooktie?” she raised it up to the air, offering the boys a share of her snack. 

each boy took only one, while politely thanking her for sharing. she unwedged herself from the huddle and waddled towards her dad. 

“juice peas?” she said to him, pointing to a sippy cup sitting on the table. he handed her the cup and looked at the clock on the wall.

“unfortunately boys, time is up for today’s meeting.” eddie tsked. 

just as he said that, y/n opened the door to the club room and walked in scanning around. each person all had their eyes on her.

“mommy!” mei squealed, running towards the young woman. she jumped into her arms, y/n picking her up and spinning her around. 

eddie grabbed a small child lunch box and walked towards the two girls. “as you see i can't stay any later than i’m supposed to tonight guys. but this will give you some more time to think about your next move.”

he trailed behind the two girls, waving everyone goodbye. 

as the door closed, each hellfire member could hear a faint, “eddie why is our daughter talking about slaying a dragon?”

followed by “edward munson why did our daughter just say son of a bitch?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things 4 #eddie munson my beloved #parenting fic #the baby fever has been real yall #hellfire baby sushihousebread