#( let romeo curl up like that )

[julietsbody]

romeo meets juliet — luke castellan x reader : chess can be played in many different situations. 

tags : 18+!! loser!luke (hes actually such a loser im sorry), college setting, brothers best friend!luke, mutual pining, religious imagery(?), classic literature references, body worship, smut, luke is pathetically in love 

a/n : save me nerdy boy with sad eyes save me

luke didn’t acknowledge your existence at first, he stuck to himself, from his classes, to his dorm, maybe even the lunchroom if his roomate, your brother, convinced him to come rather than just making all of his meals in the dorm. luke and your brother were complete opposites, luke was studying literature, mostly classic,  he didn’t speak to many people unless forced to— and your brother was studying engineering, which also basically required him to join a frat, and he spoke to nearly everyone with cockiness prominent in his tone. 

one thing they did have in common, though, was chess. 

now, your brother could never tell anyone, especially not his frat brothers, that he played chess, let alone was in the university’s chess club— but he felt pity for luke, most of the time luke played by himself, which was somehow equally as frustrating as having to play against someone else. 

the only people that knew about your brother playing chess was luke, the chess club, and you. 

luke remembers the first time you came trotting in to the dorm, complaining to your brother about some argument you had with your parents about how your friends are distracting you from your studies. your brother only rolls his eyes, barely listening to your non - stop whining about how it’s ridiculous, “i mean— you’re the one in a frat! why aren’t they mad at you?” 

“because i actually do my work,” he mumbles, and luke breathes out in a silent laugh, moving a piece on his chess board. 

“you’re in engineering, you don’t even have any actual work,” you frown, and albeit the fact that you’re wrong, you’re still confident in what you said. 

“are you stu— whatever,” your brother waves you off, deciding to change the subject when he motions to luke, the boy in a nirvana t-shirt, currently moving to a different side of the chess board as he plays against himself, “this is luke, my roommate, obviously.” 

luke immediately freezes, fingers curling around the chess piece he was adjusting to move— his eyes are wide, and they’re moving to look at you, only to immediately flicker to some other part of the room when they meet your expectant gaze. since he won’t speak first, you pick up the slack, “hey, luke.” 

your brother notices how luke looks like a scared, lost puppy even by the slightest implication of having to speak to a woman, let alone be perceived by one, so he moves to whisper in your ear, “he’s like, deathly afraid of women, i’ve never seen him speak to one, ever.” 

and you from that you don’t expect a response from luke, until he mumbles a short, “hi.” 

that’s when your head tilts, noticing the way his curls fall over his brows messily, like he doesn’t pay attention to styling it, or maybe it’s on purpose, maybe he pays too much attention to styling it. the way he wore something so simple, yet so telling about himself, the way he awkwardly places the chess piece back on the board on the spot he wanted to. he assumes the conversation is over, so he moves to the opposite side of the board to make a move against his own. 

“are you in the chess club?” you take a step closer, and he perks up, hand ghosting over the piece once more. 

luke doesn’t say anything, his lips twitch around words that don’t come out. your brother speaks in his place, “he’s the president, he’s a fucking grandmaster.”

luke just awkwardly laughs, moving his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, eyes moving from the board to you, then to your brother, “i’m not like— actually the president,” another awkward, short chuckle, “i just— like.. um.. play a lot, i guess.” 

“you are the president, dude,” your brother corrects, being insufferable as he always is. 

but luke puts up with it, then you ask another question, “what do you major in?” 

“literature,” luke responds for himself this time, finally able to move his hand to make a proper move on the chess board, before mumbling, “mostly classic.” 

“you’re kidding, i am too, how have i not seen you before?” 

luke’s eyes finally meet yours, now, pausing on your eyes, then resuming down the shape of your face, memorizing each feature, the curve of your lashes, the shape of your lips— he swallows thickly. 

“i just— sit in the back.. and go to my dorm— as soon as class ends,” there’s that awkward, short chuckle again. 

“have you finished the paper?” 

luke nods, and that’s when your brother finally gets a bright idea. 

“you should help her, luke, with the work.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

that’s how it all started, with a simple suggestion, that’s when you came to the dorm more often, when he began to notice that you were actually in his classes, and when you realized he had an awful staring problem. he thought he was slick with it too, letting his eyes move around the room for a mere.. twenty seconds before they finally snap to you, and from there, they stay, until you finally return the gaze and he’s immediately nervously looking away. 

he hardly speaks to you, unless your brother urges him to, and he’s always avoiding looking at you when he speaks, stumbling over words, pausing in sentences to catch his losing breath. he was a complete and utter loser, terrible when it came to socializing, even worse when it’s with girls. with you, it somehow seemed to worsen. 

“am i the first girl you’ve ever talked to?” you ask once, far too blunt for your own liking, you didn’t mean to really say it, it kind of just came out when seeing how much his leg bounced under the table with nervousness, nearly sweating himself to death under your gaze. 

sweat beads down his temple when his eyes flutter up to meet yours, moving from the romeo and juliet book in his hands. isn’t it so ironic that he had just gotten done reading the scene in which romeo says, “did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! for i ne'er saw true beauty till this night,” when seeing juliet for the first time? truly, it isn’t the first time he saw you, but it’s night, and you are beautiful. truly, utterly, “beautiful.” 

“what?” 

oh, oh my god. saliva bubbles in his mouth, sour saliva, and he gulps it down, hoping it would somehow be a form of poison that would wake him from this nightmare. does he say what he meant? that he was thinking out loud? that he thinks you’re beautiful? or should he deny it? deny. he bursts into awkward laughs, “what— what do you mean— i.. i didn’t even say anything.. ha, haha.” 

“why are you acting like that?” your brows furrow. 

“like what?” 

“like you’re hiding something.” 

his breathing only shakes anymore, “i’m not hiding anything.. that’s like— a wild accusation.” 

“it’s not an accusation, i’m just saying,” you frown at him. 

his adam’s apple bobs with another swallow, “okay but like—“ 

“why are you harassing him?” your brother sighs, tired how much you press luke. 

“i’m not— whatever, i was asking you— am i the first girl you’ve ever spoken to?” 

your brother barks out a laugh, and luke’s eyes fall back down to the book in his hands. did not having proper conversations with women make him any less? romeo grabbed juliet’s hand once, and the first words he uttered to her was a promise to redeem himself if his hand was too unworthy to be touching her holy one. parallels sear in his mind, and he just mumbles a, “not really.” 

he has spoken to women before, sure, small greetings, maybe even the slightest indulgence of conversation— but luke keeps to himself, and to be honest, he was a man used to running from women, as he did from his mother. he grew up being afraid of women, well, afraid isn’t the proper word, intimidated is better, and he just decided to avoid them as much as possible. 

though, no matter how much he tries to avoid you, you’re always there, in his sight, in his mind. maybe it’s a disgrace, like romeo holding juliet’s hand, for him to even be thinking of you, looking at you— you were a goddess that offered a man on his knees the slightest bit of your grace, and now he was hooked. 

it was pathetic, really, how he anticipated every time he suspected you would be over, how his eyes always found their way to you in class, how he made sure to purposefully walk past you in the lunchroom on the days he went, which was oddly more now. 

a man who is still a virgin to adore a girl far too good for him, he is hopeless. 

“it’s okay if i am,” you adjust, okay, there might be a little hope, “anyway, how do you like romeo and juliet?” 

“it’s pretty nice—“ he notices the way your face perks up in shock, “kind of, i don’t know.” 

“i think it’s a bore, i’m sure the movie is much better.” 

“we should watch the movie— um.. together, sometime.” 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

if luke was being completely honest with himself, he didn’t entirely mean to say it, and as soon as you left the dorm, he nearly doubled over with shock at his own words, and even more shock at the fact that you agreed. not only did you agree, you actually came, and it was just you and him. your brother was off at some frat party, again, and he had left luke completely alone with you, even when luke begged him not to. 

“you’re kidding, dude, i’m like— horrified of her,” luke frowns at your brother. 

“you need exposure therapy, or some shit, call me your therapist.” 

“you’re a shit therapist,” luke sighs, rubbing his temples. 

“and you need to grow some balls.” 

so, your brother left him, and now luke’s awkwardly standing with you at his door - step, staring at him expectantly, his lips twitch around so many possible words, possible sentences, and all that comes out is, “hey.” 

he’s been staring for you for at least a minute, and all he can say is hey. your lips curve to an amused smile, “hi, luke.” 

“um— you can come in, if you.. want, ‘course.” he moves out the way to let you in, watching you step past him so he can close the door. 

“i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want to,” you remark as if it’s the obvious, mostly because it is. 

when romeo stood underneath juliet’s balcony, he praised how captivating she was, considers her as glorious as an angel, a winged messenger above his head. in his own words : 

“one who makes mortals fall onto their backs to gaze up in awe as the angel strides across the clouds and sails through the air.”

consider luke on his back now, staring up at the stars in your eyes, the halo that shines above your head, the wings that flap with every stride you make— a goddess, an angel, venus incarnate, right before his eyes, staring at him like he had something deeply wrong with him. wait. he blinks a few times, and his eyes refocus onto your confused face. 

“are you okay, luke?” 

he quickly clears his throat, “yeah, yeah— duh, ‘course i am, uh.. we should,” he moves to the table in which his laptop was on, “watch the movie, yeah? ‘ts on my.. laptop, if you don’t mind.” 

“i don’t, at all,” you move to sit next to him on the couch in front of the table, watching the veins in his hands pulse, palms sweaty when he moves to open his laptop, shifting a few tabs and pressing a few keys until he mumbles a small okay and presses the space button. 

moaning. that’s all you hear, the sound of skin slapping, ah ah— oh fuck mmph you’re so b— luke slams the laptop shut. 

dear god, save him now. 

he can’t even bring himself to look at you, the sweat on his palms only worsens and spreads onto the top of the laptop as he smoothes his hands across it, replaying the scene a million times in his mind. to his surprise, you giggle, “you watch porn?” 

he’s quick to awkwardly scoff out a short laugh, “yeah— i mean, everyone does.. but like.. i don’t watch it— that much.” 

your finger moves to run along the vein on his arm, feeling him shudder under your touch, yet he doesn’t want you to stop, even the slightest touch makes his dick twitch in his pants, “are you a virgin, luke?” 

he inhales sharply, “y-yeah..” 

“do you want to have sex?” you lean the tiniest bit closer. 

he pauses, “yes.. of course—“ 

“with me?” 

“yes.” he responds quick, too fucking quick, it must’ve been at most a second after you said it for him to respond. the truth stings his tongue, to finally be able to say it out loud, how much he had fantasized about you in the late of night, even sneaking off to the bathrooms so his hand can dip underneath his waistband when he thinks about the times you’ve worn a tight shirt that frames your tits far too well. 

but it was wrong, wasn’t it? you were a goddess, on a pedestal, and he was merely just a man, staring up at your statue in the hopes that you would notice him one day. forbidden, possibly, but all those thoughts leave his mind when his eyes move from the finger tracing up his bicep to your neck, then your lips, then your eyes. 

“please tell me you’ve kissed before.” 

“yeah.. yeah— i have,” a playground kiss counts, right?

it seems to when your lips fall against his own, the kiss was so gentle, until he dared to kiss you back, then it got hungry, mostly on his end. he kissed you like a starving man, nearly devouring you but at the same time, being horrified to. your tongue finds it’s way into his mouth, and to your surprise, he whimpers against your lips.

his hands are hesitant, unsure of where to go, does he touch your arm? your shoulder? your waist? he doesn’t want to push anything, so the waist seems far too much, his hands awkwardly place themselves on your arm, in a very weird position. 

“have you touched a girl before?” 

his lips are flushed from the kiss, eyes glazing over the position of his hands, and he quickly moves them off, “sorry— well, i just.. um.. didn’t want to push anything.” 

“you can,” you reassure, but his hands still hesitate, the flesh of a goddess, to be touched by someone so inexperienced. was he really worth it? any of it? to even be in your presence was a blessing, and it was still taking him forever to register the fact that you had actually kissed him, prayers passed through your lips into his. 

“are you sure?” 

“‘course i am.” 

it still took luke some getting used to, having you straddle his lap, you knew so much, it felt like more than just an honor to have you so close to him. his eyes flicked from your own to your lips, then to your tits, the low v - cut showing off your cleavage perfectly. and he looked like a complete deer in headlights, staring at the flesh pushed together between the window of clothing. you smile at his lack of self control, feeling the way his dick throbs underneath his pants, right against your ass, “you can touch them.” 

“wha— nono, ‘ts okay— i just..” he trails off, sweaty palms moving past you to slide across his knees. 

“really, luke, you can— why don’t i just..” you move to take off your shirt, his eyes immediately catching on to the lace of your bra, the way your tits are practically spilling out of it, all until you take off your bra as well and they immediately fall out. 

his hand twitches around nothing, desperately wondering what it must feel like to have your flesh underneath his palm, fingers curling around the plush of it. it seems you must’ve heard his prayers when you move to take his hands, pulling them back to press against your tits. 

soft, that’s his first thought, sweat sticks to your skin when his fingers curve around the flesh, gripping it ever so gently. praises spill from his lips almost immediately, thoughts he had since the day he saw you, finally being spoken, “y’re beautiful— fuck, i’ve always.. always wanted to— do this..” 

you smile so sweet at him, nectar nearly drips off your teeth, “can i ride you, luke?” 

his eyes finally meet yours, brows furrowing for a mere second, “huh— oh, oh.. yeah, ‘course you can.” 

you didn’t expect him to have a big, no matter how cruel that sounds, you had heard rumors of nerds with big dicks, but sought to never believe it until you saw it, and good fucking lord you saw it. as soon as his dick springs out from the pants and boxers you were tugging down, luke’s hands mindlessly moved to your waist, your eyes widen. 

no fucking way. he has to be.. six? seven inches, at least. slightly girthy too, he wasn’t all just length, and precum was beading from his red tip. he immediately inhales sharply when your fingers graze his dick, nervous under your gaze, “is it too small— i.. i’m sorry—“ 

“too small?” you scoff playfully at his scared expression, worried of what you think, “this might be the biggest dick i’ve ever seen, luke.” 

“that’s— a good thing.. right?” 

“obviously, god, it better fit,” this is the first time you’ve ever been concerned about whether or not a dick will fit, luke stiffens when you spit on your palm, pressing it to his dick and wettening it as you jerk him off, his response is immediate, carefully gripping at your skin and pressing his lips together to muffle his whimpers. 

luke had jerked of many, many times, but it never felt as good as this. 

“fuck—“ he grunts out, already far too close from just a simple hand movements. 

you immediately stop, picking up on his nearing orgasm from the way his hips kept bucking up into your hands, pathetic whines slipping past his lips, but it was just so cute. the cutest thing, though, was his face when he got the first look at your vagina, he looked like a man staring at a piece of art he had admired. and this was art, sex was, you were, everything about you, it felt so sacred. 

his lashes flutter when you take his hand, guiding it to your sopping cunt, allowing him to feel the wetness that was nearly pouring from you. like nectar from a fountain, it coated his fingertips when he touched you, his eyes focused onto your face, making sure that he was doing it right. he notices the way you gasp when his fingertips brush against your clit, so he presses against it again, and again. 

he follows everything he has seen in pornos, spreading your folds, fingers grazing past your entrance, rubbing your clit— but he’s lost when you wave him off before he can finger you to prep you for his dick, wasn’t that something people did? “but don’t you…” 

“it’ll fit,” you mumble back, relying on how wet you are to make it easier. 

he watches the way your jaw falls when you move to press his tip against your entrance, allowing the tip to push into you and it’s already too big. his eyes widen at the feeling of your walls clenching around his tip, unable to hold back the noises that slip from his own lips. 

“you’re like— the.. the girl of my dr— fuck— dreams,” luke hushed out between his mess of moans and grunts, he wondered if romeo ever felt this way when he kissed juliet for the first time, the sort of electric rush that riddled his bones, it felt unreal. you were a dream incarnate, one luke was always haunted with, the woman that would show up when his eyes would close at night, and now you were on his lap, sinking down on his dick. 

“am i? really?” you question, inhaling sharply when you finally reach the base of his cock. for some odd reason, you didn’t believe you were all he was putting you up to be, and that made him sick— how could you think of yourself as any less? you were perfect, a vision, to be fair, luke would adore you even if you were an enemy, just like romeo and juliet. 

he would stand at your balcony, stare at you from across the ballroom, kiss your knuckles, kiss you— he would do it all. he might even drink poison just to spend eternity with you. 

“yes, yes— are you.. kidding? mmph.. fuck— you’re like.. a fuckin’ goddess,” it comes out like a prayer, as if he was on his knees at your altar, kissing your legs, and whispering worshipping words. 

to nobody’s surprise, luke doesn’t last long at all when you’re bouncing on his cock, no matter how much he tried to distract himself from his throbbing cock by pawing at your tits, or moving to kiss you, his orgasm was just too close. “‘m g’na.. please.. g’na cum.. mmphh.. fuck!” 

when he does cum, you had pulled off him, jerking him off, and he’s practically writhing, a whimpering and damn near crying mess. and once he’s helped you to your orgasm as well, you’re falling into his arms, finding a safe - haven in how he smells like old books, mint, and cheap cologne. 

two star crossed lovers, one capulet, one montague. 

“these violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder. which, as they kiss, consume.” — romeo and juliet, act two, scene six.

[sturnioz]

Hear me out. HEAR ME OUT.

A blurb where fratboy!chris is fucking shy!reader rough, but she stops him and asks him to take it slow and gentle tonight? She’s not mad at all but she’s just more in the mood for slow and sensual? And maybe chris isn’t used to that but he’s willing to try for her…?

I’m telling my kids this was Romeo and Juliet.

pathetic mewls seep past your lips, eyebrows knitted together in pleasure as you stare up at chris through blurry vision as he pants, having you pinned beneath him, knees pressed to your chest as he pounds into your puffy cunt.

his grip is tight on the backs of your knees, too tight that it makes you wince a little — but all your pain and worries float away when he presses down on that bulge in your tummy, making you moan in pleasure.

sweat trickles down his brow as he thrusts into you, his grunts muffled behind bitten lips, watching as his cock slides in and out of you repeatedly at a pace that has his balls tightening, ready to spill into you.

"w-wait," you choke out between ragged breaths, your voice straining as trembling hands touch his shoulders. "slow.. slow down."

chris doesn't slow his movements, but he stares down at you, his chest heaving as confusion flickers across his face. "what? why?"

"just... jus' wanna go slower," you whisper softly, chewing on your bottom lip as you gaze up at him. "please?"

you love getting fucked like this — of course you do — but tonight, you're in the mood for something slower, more gentle and caring.

with the way chris is looking down at you, his hips coming to an abrupt stop, you're slowly starting to regret asking him to change the pace, and a whine fleets past your lips as you hear the heavy huff come from him as he pulls out of you with a wet pop.

chris furrows his brows, completely baffled and struggling to understand the sudden change when just moments ago, you were practically melting beneath him, making sweet sounds as he pounds into you. but now you wanted something slower?

chris has half the mind to scoff and flip you over, spank your ass and fuck you until you see stars — but he clicks his tongue against his teeth, grumbling under his breath as he pulls your knees from your chest, parting your legs for him to fit comfortably in-between instead.

"a'ight, whatever." he relents, bracing himself above you.

you can't help but smile, staring up at him through your wispy lashes, your face contorting as you feel him slowly ease back into your wet warmth, your arms curling around his shoulders.

you can feel him move slowly within you, his cock rubbing against your walls, and you let out a soft cooing sound in delight, your legs wrapping around his hips.

he doesn't look at you each time he pushes into you, not that you really expected him to, especially with something so seemingly intimate, but you wanted to make him more comfortable, more into it.

"ah.. its so good, feels good," you whisper your praise to him, fingers curling around the hair at the nape of his neck, your eyes fluttering shut as you savour the feeling of being filled by him.

"yeah," chris replies through gritted teeth, his own fingers gripping the pillows behind your head, feeling how you squeeze so tightly around him. "don't... don't get it into y'head that im gonna be doin' this all the time, kid... s'not—" he cuts himself off with a hiss as he slowly rolls his hips against yours, his cock sliding deeper. "...not happenin'."

[st-eve-barnes]

Romeo is bleeding

(Felix Catton x fem Reader)

Summary: Felix feels heartbroken over Oliver and chooses you to distract him

Word count: +1800

Warning: 18+ for explicit language and content, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v sex. ANGST, comfort, but more ANGST.

Seriously, this is a pretty sad one. I tried to take some things from canon and I've basically killed myself with all the foreshadowing, I just couldn't stop.

This is my first time writing Felix so go easy on me and please let me know if you liked it!

***

All my fics are also on AO3

If you love my writing you can Buy me a KoFi or feed me with a lovely comment ;)

***

You had stumbled into the maze after one too many drinks that night when you found Felix. His tall frame leaned against the statue, lips wrapped around the bottle that was half empty by now, sipping more of whatever was in there to numb his feelings.

His head was down, shoulders slumped but even like this he was still taller than anyone else. And more beautiful. He looked like God’s most perfect fallen angel with those wings and your lips curled up into an involuntary smile at the sight of him. You made your way over, the liquor in your own veins giving you the confidence you usually lacked.

He smiled back when he noticed you,”You lost, little bird?”

“Are you?” you teased, earning you another smile from him. 

That ever present smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes tonight. You had noticed it earlier upon seeing him on the dance floor as well, he was trying very hard to keep up the facade but here, behind the dark enclosures of the maze, it all fell apart.

“I might very well be,” he answered with a heavy sigh, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

You dared to step closer, enough to properly look at him but he didn’t reciprocate, his gaze avoiding yours, thoughts a million miles away it seemed.

“You alright?” you checked.

He took another long sip from the bottle before placing it on the statue behind him. ”Sure,” he then smiled, a little more convincing than before, but still a lie.”Right as rain,” he finally looked back at you, holding your gaze,”How are you, sweet Y/N?”

“I’m good,” you nodded, biting your lip before you spoke the next words,”I can leave…if you want to…you know…be alone to sulk over Oliver.”

He rolled his eyes but his lips quirked up into a grin,”Am I that obvious?”

“You both are,” you confessed with what you hoped was a warm, compassionate smile,”I’ll just go and leave you to your booze and…”

Before you could step back his hand wrapped around your wrist, gently, holding you in place. 

“No,” he spoke.

“No?” you teased, unable to stop yourself from smiling and leaning into his touch, willing him to pull you even closer. 

You always wanted to be closer to him.

“No,” he repeated in a whisper and then his lips were on yours in a soft, slow kiss and your heart nearly burst out of your chest. Your hands made their way into his neck, reciprocating his kiss, melting into him, bodies pressed up together, his tongue finding yours to deepen the kiss and steal your last coherent thought.

How you loved him, and probably always had. Your beautiful, sweet Felix. That gorgeous, friendly giant who befriended you when no one else would.

Maybe he really did have a thing for lost causes.

Felix sighed into the kiss, a satisfied smirk on his lips at all the desperate, little noises you made. His hands moved down to your waist and he spun you both around, placing your back against the statue, his lips now on your neck, sloppy wet kisses making their way down to your bare shoulders.

Your hands grabbed at his shirt, pulling it out of his jeans so you could feel his toned skin under your fingertips.

“Felix,” you breathed.

He kissed his way back up to your ear, breath heavy when he whispered,”If you want this to stop, now would be a good time to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave,” you wrapped both arms around him and kissed his mouth again.

Felix laughed into the kiss, his hands pushing up your dress and then he broke the kiss to kneel down in front of you, pulling your panties down to your ankles. You quickly stepped out of them and he used the opportunity to grab your leg and place it over his shoulder.

You gasped out loud when his tongue started lapping at your clit. You braced yourself against the statue behind you while your other hand covered your mouth to keep yourself from crying out so loud they would hear you far beyond the walls of the maze and Saltburn. 

Felix didn’t waste any time, eating you out as if you were a dying man’s last meal, sucking and licking you to completion embarrassingly quickly.

The feel of his wet tongue invading your walls and his nose pressing up deliciously against your clit had you seeing stars and far beyond. You came with his name on your lips, legs shaking around him as he held you down and licked you through every last tremor.

Your legs were still unsteady when he finally released you and stood up, towering over you again. His mouth found yours in an all consuming kiss where you tasted yourself all over him, intoxicating you even further. You fumbled with his belt, desperate to get him out of his pants and into your aching wet heat. Felix was laughing into the kiss again.

“Aren’t you an eager little thing?” he teased, slapping your hand away and taking over, unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down to free his cock. He was hard already, leaking at the tip and when your hand wrapped around his base the most filthy moan known to men left his beautiful lips, making you even more desperate for him.

Your leg was pulled up again, around his waist now and without further warning he was finally inside of you.

And it was better than you had ever imagined. 

Being with Felix was always like that, he was sunshine and rainbows in a world filled with grey. Everyone wanted to be in his light. You were no different. Ever since the first time he smiled at you on that warm sunny day at the university. 

You felt lucky to bask in his glow, even if it was just every now and then. Even if it was just once. It was a privilege, one you were sure you didn’t deserve.

He was patient at first, eyes searching yours to hold eye contact while he fucked you so sweetly and slowly, your back gently pushing up against the statue with every thrust.

“Hold onto me,” he breathed against your lips and you didn’t hesitate, wrapping both arms around him to cling to his shoulders as he took up the pace, one hand moving down to your ass to hold you in place so he could fuck you deeper.

“Yeah, just like that,” he moaned and kissed your neck again.

Your quiet, little whimpers seemed to spur him on. Your nails sank into his skin when he started breathing heavily with you, every snap of his hips pushing you closer towards that edge again and having him right there with you felt almost surreal, like something magical and out of this world. 

Deep in this enclosure of the maze, away from the real world, Felix lifted you to higher grounds again.

“You close, sweetheart?” he breathed into your ear.

You had no more words left, only whimpers and a quick, firm nod as you bit down on your lip, hard enough to draw blood.

His hand sank in between your legs to find your clit again, making you crash hard, walls clenching around him over and over, desperate to keep him right there but also powerless to stop the inevitable end.

Felix pulled out and quickly jerked himself off, he only needed two seconds to spurt his hot cum all over your stomach and legs. His body slumped against yours, his head falling on your shoulders with a quiet, long grunt.

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him in your hug and he didn’t pull away. It took him a moment but then he returned your affection, pulling you deep into his arms to hug you back.

“Thanks,” he breathed into your ear,”I needed that.”

“Yeah, me too,” you confessed with a quiet giggle.

He leaned back to look at you after a while, giving you a lopsided little grin when he noticed the evidence of his peak running down your legs.

”Messed you up, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay,” you shook your head with a smile.

“Here,” he took off his shirt and used it to wipe you clean. When he was done he handed the shirt to you and leaned in to place another soft, sweet kiss on your lips.

”Can you make your way out of here alright?” he then asked.

It was his polite way of saying “You can go now, we're done here” and you didn’t even have it in you to object.

“Can you?” you teased then, putting another smile on his face, making it impossible for you not to lean in and steal another kiss. One he willingly granted. 

“No more sulking tonight, alright?” you tried to cheer him up, give him back a little bit of the light he so often shared with you. “You are loved,” you added softly,”You know that, right? You are so loved, Felix. Catton.”

Your words made him lean in and press a soft lingering kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you," he breathed, eyes closing in a heavy sigh as they got teary again.

You wanted to stay and comfort him, keep him right here in your arms and give him everything he could possibly ask of you.

But you knew you were not what he needed. And when he reached for the bottle again you knew there was nothing left for you to do but leave. Leave him to his heartbreak and his despair.

With a heavy heart you let go of him and stepped back. You hadn’t even fully turned your back to him yet when Felix gave into his tears.

You passed by Oliver on your way out of the maze. His intense, creepy stare made every hair on your arms stand up. His eyes weren’t even looking at you, they were only looking at your shirt, Felix’s shirt, which you wore with pride now. Having something of him to physically hold onto made your heart feel a little less lonely, but the blunt anger and jealousy in Oliver’s eyes made you feel uneasy to the point you wanted to take it off. Like you took something that didn’t belong to you.

There was something not right about that boy and the worst thing was Felix couldn’t see it. Or maybe he could but it was too late for him to turn his back on it.

Infatuation, desire, love, it has the power to crawl under your skin and settle itself deep into your veins until you have no choice but to bleed out. Felix was already poisoned. You couldn’t save him, nobody could.

It was only a matter of time before Oliver would become his downfall.

[tonowarii]

Yawne

Pairing: Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan x Fem! Dreamwalker! Reader

Request: Tsu'tey with a dreamwalker reader were they come up with human nicknames for him when they are training become one of the na'vi, and he's confused and asks jake. So when he finds out he starts calling her nicknames that are meant for mates or something in his language. Something that makes the reader flustered. If you want to.

Word count: 2.3k

Warning/s: none really?? just fluff bc tsu'tey <333

Note: tsu'tey i miss u man come back <3 Anyways, likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are much appreciated! Let me know what you think!

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

yawne - beloved

tìyawn - love

You face planted. Hard.

Groaning, you prop yourself up with your elbows. Your face was caked with mud from falling off your direhorse.

“Glad I’m not the only one falling off my ass.” You could hear Jake playfully say as he walked with Neytiri, going somewhere to teach him how to use a bow.

You could hear Neytiri smack him on the arm, muttering something else.

“Yeah, yeah, piss off.” You say with a light chuckle.

“You are not taking this seriously.” Someone spoke from above you.

Looking up, you spot the usual scowl on the man’s face, Tsu’tey. Soon to be olo’eyktan of the Omaticaya clan. The man you wanted to choke the living daylights of, at the same time he was also the man whom your heart started to beat for.

It was stupid, really, falling in love with your instructor, you knew your stay here would may as well be temporary, but you were going to make the most of it.

“I am, give me a break I just fell off my horse.” You grumble, standing up to meet his eye, well, you still had to look up from the difference in height.

“There are no breaks. How are you going to learn? You Sky People should just go away.”

You knew of his distaste in the Sky People, and you couldn’t blame him. You hated your own kind too. For now, you just played with him.

“I can’t, I know you’d miss me, Casanova.” The edge of your lip curls up in a smirk at the nickname you gave him.

Tsu’tey’s brow knitted together at confusion for the said nickname, yet he ignores it, jerking his head towards the horse. “Again.”

All you could do was sigh and hop on the direhorse again.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you got used to Tsu’tey being by your side, the nicknames you gave him started to get worse. However, you enjoyed the grumpy look on the warrior, it made you laugh.

“Where are we going now, Romeo?” You asked, trailing behind him through the forest, holding your bow.

You could hear his tall figure let out a ‘Tch’ before he kept going.

“Not even going to answer me, Romeo? Oh, you pain me.” You giggle.

“I do not understand what you are saying, woman.” Tsu’tey said, stopping and finally looking at you.

“That’s why it makes things more exciting, don’t you think? Since we’re spending all this time together.” You speak nonchalantly. Tsu’tey couldn’t believe how lively you were being.

And the worst part is? He’s enjoying it.

None of the young hunters he had trained had the personality like you, no. It was either they were too focused, which Tsu’tey liked, but the others were too scared or often other female na’vi would just flirt with him.

But he would rather feed himself to a viperwolf than let you know that he’d been enjoying this little game of nicknames of yours, even if he didn’t know what it meant. It made all the time spent with you more fun, like he said, lively.

Still, he was always reminded that you were one of the Sky People, another dreamwalker on their planet. But why was he feeling a certain way when you smile at him?

When you perfected something he taught you, why does he want to go to you and congratulate you by holding your hand and smiling at you?

Instead, what he does is nod at you, before making you do it again to make sure. He must remain professional, but why does his instinct crumble when it comes to you?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Hold it.” Tsu’tey said to you as you held your drawn bow.

“Higher.” Tsu’tey commanded, but you didn’t follow. He bites the inside of his cheek before grabbing your elbow, your body inches away from his as he raised your elbow at the height it was intended. He never failed to notice the slight dark hue to your cheeks.

He backed away again, wanting to see your form. “ (Correct).”

You smile at him, and he almost smiles back at you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The game went on and soon you’ve called him a bunch of names.

It ranged from honey, sweetie, sweetheart, honey bun, and a bunch more that Tsu’tey couldn’t keep up with. It made him curious, why were you calling him like that?

So, there he was one night after a feast, his eyes trailed to you. You were wearing their clothes and you looked even beautiful. You were currently laughing about something with Neytiri when the curiosity of his mind got the better of him.

Thankfully, Jake was just right beside him.

“I have a question, JakeSully.” He said to the man who seemed quite busy stuffing his mouth with food.

“Oh, sure. What’s up?”

Tsu’tey suddenly debated whether he should really be asking Jake. But as since the two of you were from the same kind, he figured he knows much more a lot about it than the others.

“(Y/N) keeps calling me things- things I do not understand.” Tsu’tey said.

“Oh? What things?” Jake replied.

“What does ‘honey bunch’ mean?”

At that, Jake could swear he inhaled some of his food as he broke out into a laugh.

Tsu’tey frowned, does it mean something bad? Were you making fun of him the whole time?

“Man, didn’t know she had it in her.” Jake laughed.

“What does it mean?” Tsu’tey said, slightly tightening his grip on the strap of his holster, awaiting Jake’s answer.

“Well, it’s a nickname, I know you know that. But its you know, something you call your… how do I put this?” Jake thought. “Like its something you call your mate only.”

Tsu’tey then felt his grip loosen at Jake’s words. All this time you were calling him names that were meant for your beloved.

Tsu’tey’s mouth went agape for a moment, before gulping and nodding. “Ah, I see.”

“Its also a way for her to tell you that she likes you, trust me, I know her.” Jake said before going back to eating and talking with the other na’vi.

He inhales, his eyes finding their way back to you, to his surprise, your eyes met his.

Then you smiled and waved at him.

He didn’t know how to respond, so he moves away from your gaze, busying himself with his thoughts that he missed your frown at being ignored.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You and Tsu’tey now sat in front of each other, under one of the highest branches in hometree.

He was teaching you how to speak na’vi.

“Nam’ake.” Tsu’tey said.

“Namate.” You repeated but Tsu’tey shook his head.

“Nam’ake.” He repeated.

“Nam’ake.” You said.

“Good.”

There was that smile of yours again. “You are learning well, tìyawn.” He smiles smugly at your confused face.

“What does that mean?” You ask him as he shrugged, smirking. “Hey, no fair, since when did you also start calling me names, huh?” You spoke.

“You started it first.” He was now being playful with you, which was a new thing , still, you enjoyed it, getting to see this side of Tsu’tey.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You just finally had your first kill as you closed your eyes, thanking a silent prayer to Eywa before mercy killing the hexapede in front of you with your dagger.

Tsu’tey watched, a proud smile on his face as you learned well from him.

“You are ready, yawne.”

You open your eyes again to look at him. “You got to tell me what that means.” You say, standing up, sheathing your dagger back into its holster.

“Maybe one day.” He replies.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After countless days, you were now ready to be signified as one of the people, one of the Omaticaya.

Tsu’tey and Neytiri traced the white liquid onto you and Jake’s body.

You could feel yourself shiver as Tsu’tey’s hand dips into the bowl then traced a line down your lips. You could feel his concentration. You didn’t miss how his fingers lingered on your lips before removing them.

Tsu’tey was proud of you. Once you walked out with Jake, you could see all of the Omaticaya turn their heads towards the two of you. It made you shiver, you heart spiking as you made your way down.

You and Jake were still beside each other as Eytukan was in front of you. “You are now a son and daughter of Omaticaya.” He spoke in Na’vi. You stare at his gentle gaze. “You are part of The People.”

Eytukan both laid a hand on yours and Jake’s shoulder. You could feel yourself becoming one with them. Not just a person in an avatar body, but as truly one of the people. You see Neytiri clasps her hand on Jake’s body, a proud smile on her face, making you smile too.

Then you suddenly feel two rough, calloused hands rest their place on your shoulder and you immediately recognize who it was.

Tsu’tey.

And then a big feast was yet again held, celebrating becoming one with the people as you and Jake were now warmly welcomed by the others.

“Come, come dance with us!” Neytiri said, pulling you up from your sitting position. Your eyes widened as you gasped. “Neytiri, I’m no dancer!” You said, dark hue tinting your cheeks.

Neytiri smiled yet she was persistent as you already found yourself standing and being pulled along with her.

Tsu’tey didn’t miss the scene as his eyes followed yours, he watched as you began to dance along with the Omaticaya women. His eyes only focusing on your figure. He watched how you went from doing small moves into finally feeling yourself as your hips dipped and swayed to the drumming.

His eyes were only pried away when one of his friends talked to him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After finishing the dance, you laugh, out of breath as you and Neytiri conversed, making your way back to your original spot. You had a few drinks in your system that you didn’t even realize was possible, leaving your face lightly flushed and feeling confident.

Reaching the destination giggling to yourselves, Neytiri playfully shoved you against Tsu’tey’s front. You gasped as your hands placed themselves on his broad chest to stop the impact as his arms instinctively reached out to catch you.

“Enjoy (Y/N).” Neytiri teases before going to Jake, pulling him up from his seat and dragging him somewhere. You gasp at her, laughing to yourself, not realizing a certain warrior was now holding your almost intoxicated self.

Your attention was now turned to Tsu’tey as you looked up at him. “Hi.” You greet with a sheepish smile, your hands still on his chest., lingering there for a few seconds before you retracted it, the same with Tsu’tey’s arms.

You then tried to move beside him to sit when he suddenly grabbed your arm, making you stop and look up at him again, your breath hitching in your throat.

“(Y/N).” He said your name with his thick accent, his voice almost lower than its usual tone. “Hmm?” You inquired. Before you know it, he was leading you somewhere away from the people… somewhere secluded yet beautiful as the bioluminescence glowed and you could hear the trinkling of water somewhere nearby.

Tsu’tey did not know what he was doing, but he guessed it was time to say it, before everything was too late.

But he feels his words melt away as he saw you standing there, your hair was down in cascading waves from them being trapped in a braid for too long, you were wearing a top adorned with little flowers and vines as they littered your chest. You were looking around, your face in awe, admiring the flowers that glowed and the ground beneath you glow as you stepped.

Think straight. Tsu’tey tells himself.

Moving towards you, he reaches for your arm.

You glance at him with a smile. “It’s beautiful here.”

“(Y/N).” He speaks again. You listen.

“You are one of the people now. You may make your bow from the wood of Hometree,” He began, but the next thing he was going to say felt heavy on his chest. He looks into your eyes to find you staring at him. He opens his mouth.

“And you may now choose a man. The Omaticaya has made men into fine warriors, protectors, like Atsìì.” He spoke.

You recognized Atsìì, also one of the fine warriors in the Omaticaya clan.

But the way your face lit up at the mention of his name made Tsu’tey regret mentioning him.

“I know him,” you say, making Tsu’tey’s ear twitch but he ignores the gnawing feeling in his stomach. “But I don’t see him that way.”

He instantly felt relieved that he almost let out a sigh, he almost gave himself away.

“But there is this fine warrior.” You spoke, never taking your eyes off him as he listened.

“A very fine warrior who has a strong heart.” The drinks you had were really taking its effect on you as you slowly smiled at him.

“And he has taught me many things,” You decide to push your luck and place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart as you inch your face close to his. “He taught me how to love.”

Tsu’tey’s hand rests themselves on your hips as he fully realized who you were talking about. You were talking about him. Him.

A proud smile slowly makes its way to his lips, his fangs showing as his tail flicked behind him. “I taught you how to love, hm?”

You nod, smiling at him. “You did, tìyawn.”

Tsu’tey’s head tilt at you upon hearing the word. You giggle, coming closer as he leaned down, your lips almost brushing his.

“Two can play at that game.” You whisper before his head dips and your lips connect.

[ma1dita]

Why do I see Luke and trouble being like "Shut up and kiss me" after Luke or trouble (whichever) talks about something they enjoy and the other is like I'm gonna kiss them cause they're so cute

done and dusted

luke castellan x dionysus!reader

a/n: fun lil short blurb for lukie pooks!! enjoy kissing him lol ty for the req morghen this was from a while ago-> check out my partners in crime series if you wanna see more

wc: 675

There’s a subtle curiosity that fills the air whenever Luke Castellan is around. You know by now not to deify gods nor people, much less a curly-headed boy with flighty eyes and a grin that always makes you feel like he knows something you don’t.

“Dangerous… the way you’re looking at me right now, trouble.” Luke’s grin is almost evil as his gaze washes over your curled up frame on the tattered couch. You’re gathering fabrics and props from the basement of the Big House for the next play you’ll organize, and Luke came along to help you carry some boxes (you’re more than strong enough to do so by yourself, but he just wants some alone time with his girl).

“M’not even doing anything! Just looking at you,” you smirk, bumping his hip against yours and his cargo pants brush against the skin of your thigh. He hisses, dust clouding your view of him when his leg catches the edge of the wooden table in the corner of the room.

“What’s this for again?” he sniffles, wiping his nose and tossing a headpiece into another box as he watches you sort through sequins and scrolls on the floor.

“Romeo and Juliet. Classic. You know I have a thing for Shakespeare,” you begin to ramble, swooning over one of the greatest love stories of all time but all Luke can do is focus on the one between the two of you. He’s oddly quiet, and you turn from your bent over position to see him admiring the view. Rolling your eyes you grumble, “Babe, were you even listening?”

“Yeah, you were talking about having a thing for a dead guy that isn’t me….” he teases, pulling you in by the belt loops as your hands trail up to wrap around his neck, “and you were about to tell me about how much you love me!” He smiles stupidly, like it’s a matter of fact. He’s incredibly lucky it is, he thinks, as you crack a smile and kiss his jaw, shaking your head at your boyfriend’s antics. “That’s not even what I was trying to say, Luke. Even though I do love you. What I was saying is that Romeo and Juliet is an amazing piece of literature because no matter what they go through, it all starts and ends with love. How beautiful is that?” you yap, not noticing that he’s backing you onto the edge of the dusty table. Like you weigh nothing, between your breaths you’re lifted onto said table with a yelp and his hands stay firm and warm on your hips.

“You’re beautiful.”

“For gods’ sake, Luke,” you giggle, “what do you want?”

His nose trails a path from your collarbone to your cheek and up into your hair—the scent of you overpowering the other elements in this decrepit room. Sweet, and soft, and his.

“I want the love of my life to just shut up for a second and kiss me. How about that?” he murmurs, lips already brushing against your growing grin as you pull him in by the curls on the nape of his neck.

Sometimes he wishes it was more normal to keep eyes open during a kiss. Luke doesn’t want to miss a single second of you even as you occupy all of his senses—the plush of your skin under his wandering hands, the smell of your perfume wafting as he pulls you closer into him, the sounds of your soft moans under his ministrations and the taste of you in his mouth as you slip your tongue against his own, dancing in familiarity in tune with your noises. He sneaks peeks of you through heavy eyelids—unable to rip away from the sight of your bliss in his arms.

And then you’re pulling away with a smirk, “M’not letting you defile me in a dusty basement, much less in my dad’s house.”

His lips press against your temple as he sighs, moving in the shape of words you can barely make out.

“Worth a shot.”

[houseofripley]

HEYY

Can you do a rhea x fem!reader story where rhea and reader are in Highschool and have both had feeling for eachother for the longest time and both haven’t confessed but all that changes because rhea ask reader to prom and they end up kissing and it leads to something else (ifykyk😏) (smut n a lil bit of fluff too🙏)

Starry Prom Night

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Scissoring, Praise, Cheek Cupping & Kissing Galore, INSANE PLOT BUILDING FOR NO REASON LOL SORRYYYYYY IM A YEARNER (im serious this is like 67% plot building)

WORD COUNT: 3,731

A/N: this is just pure sapphic yearning on my end LMAO anyways anon i had so much fun writing this even though its all over the place!!!

also can you tell where i got impatient with all the plot building lol

“Rhea, I seriously don’t know how many more of these cheesy signs I can’t take. I think I’m gonna go insane.” You grunted, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. 

Prom season was in full swing. It was third period and you had just witnessed what had to have been the seventh promposal of the day. This year would be the mark of your and your best friend, Rhea’s senior prom. Senior prom was a date thousands of dreamed about, wanting to show up and show out one last time before waving goodbye to their highschool years. 

Every girl except you and Rhea. You both despised the thought of prom. Why would any sane person spend hundreds of dollars on an outfit just to spend their night drenched in sweat in the school gymnasium? 

Fuck that!

“Romeo O Romeo! Will thou spend your Saturday night with I, drinking punch next to the locker rooms?” Rhea mocked, elbowing your arm. 

You shook your head, pressing your lips together trying to keep your laughter silent. The commotion of classmates was soon drowned out by thoughts as your eyes met Rhea’s, causing your tightened lips to curl into a small smile.

Rhea’s blue eyes never failed to warm you. Everytime you gazed into those beachy eyes you were brought back to the day you first met the girl. Seventh grade, first period, language arts. A quiet blonde girl sporting a Pierce The Veil shirt was assigned to sit next to you. Nobody knew anything about the girl besides the fact she had just moved basically across the globe. You spent the entire period thinking of what you could possibly say to her, because what do you even say to a kid that was just relocated from South Australia all the way to some shitty suburban town? 

“Cool shirt.” 

And it fucking worked somehow. You were immediately attached to her hip. The two of you grew closer with each day that passed. You were inseparable. She was everything to you. Sleepovers every weekend. ‘Study’ sessions that were spent play fighting with each other. Singing pop-punk songs at the top of your lungs till your throats were raw. Dying your hair the same shade of blue at three in the morning. She was even at your side while your parents scolded you the morning after for said blue hair. 

Jesus Christ. Lost in her eyes again? Snap out of it already! 

“Yo, Alice in Wonderland, you okay?” Rhea playfully questioned, breaking your trance by poking at your thigh.

“Just…thinking. That’s all.” You softly chuckled. You were telling the truth, you were just thinking. Just thinking about her. Thinking about her touch, her hands, her pierced nose, her lips, her stupid cool shirts. 

══════⋆☆⋆══════

“Jesus, someone’s eager to get out of here.” You laughed, trailing behind Rhea who was booking it over to her small black Lexus.

“Dude, can you blame me? It’s like everyone has some sort of prom fever. I am not letting it catch me.” Rhea complained, ducking into the vehicle. 

You made your way to the passenger side of the car before hopping into the seat next to Rhea. “I counted eighteen of those damn signs today.” You babbled, resting your arm on the center console before trailing on, diffusing the topic, “Anyways, let’s go thrifting or something. I don’t wanna go home.”

Rhea shrugged in agreeance before pulling out of her parking spot. She knew things were tough for you at home. You had recently come out as lesbian to your parents. They weren't unsupportive but they weren't exactly supportive at the same time which had built quite a bit of tension in the household. You came out to Rhea just about two years ago, who was more than supportive. She was your number one defender, always there to threaten whichever classmate that dared to ridicule you.

You knew absolutely nothing about Rhea’s sexuality. Hell, even Rhea knew nothing about her sexuality. She only knew one thing, that she liked you. She didn’t even know when she caught feelings for you, it was like the sentiments were there since the moment you first spoke to her. She hoped as time went on the flutters she’d feel for you would pass on but recently she couldn’t seem to even push the mere thought of you out of her head, it was killing her.

The drive to the nearest thrift shop was comfortably silent…silent if you ignored the Black Veil Brides cd Rhea had blaring…

Entering the store the pair of you let out scoffed laughs as the first thing catching your attention was a large display of second hand dresses. Shaking it out of your heads and ignoring it at first you carried on to wander the isles, grabbing whatever caught your eye to try on later although you’d inevitably end back up to the racks of long dresses. You weren't a big fan of dresses but you wanted to waste as much time as you possibly could, so you decided to browse the gowns with Rhea. 

She pulled a deep maroon dress, the form fitting glittered bodice was paired with a looser, more freeing skirt. “Try it on!” Rhea pushed, shoving the dress into your arms.

“I’d look so stupid in this.” You gave Rhea a bewildered look.

“Oh c’mon just try it!”

“Rhe’ when have you ever given a shit about this stuff?”

“Dude you’re the one that wanted to waste time here…” Rhea playfully scorned, diverting your question.

“Urgh, I hate when you’re right.” You huffed, shuffling towards the dressing room. 

“How ridiculous do I look?” You pouted, opening the door of the changing room before shuffling to the closest mirror.

Rhea stood behind you, peering over your shoulder as you silently studied yourself in the mirror. You looked at Rhea through the mirror as she opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself in her tracks. “I mean it’s cute but where in the world would I wear this?” You shrugged, adjusting the straps as Rhea chewed on her cheeks.

“Wear it to prom.” Rhea timidly broke her silence.

“Why would I go to prom, Rhe’? First of all it would be so lame and second of all I’d have nobody to go with. I’m just gonna put this back.” You mumbled, turning to make your way back into the changing room.

 A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Go with me…” Rhea blurted out, sounding scared of her own words. Her statement caused you to turn to face her with a puzzled expression, Rhea herself even looked surprised at what she just said. Fearing your rejection she quickly added on, “Ya know, like as a joke and stuff. We can make it not lame…”

“As a joke?” Your heart that was skipping beats just seconds ago was immediately let down. 

“Yeah. It’s just a stupid idea we don’t hav-”

“No, let's go…as a joke.” You interrupted Rhea’s nervous deflection. “We’ve got nothing better to do.” You shrugged on watching Rhea’s anxieties fade into the distance as her classic cheeky smile crept upon her face.

After you swapped out of your dress you returned to Rhea who was holding up a silky black dress with a deep slit in the skirt. “This’ll work. I’m too lazy to try anything on.” She chuckled while shrugging.

“That's ballsy Rhe-Rhe.”

══════⋆☆⋆══════

Tonight was the night, you were sat atop Rhea’s bathroom counter, finishing up your makeup while Rhea was shuffling around her closet searching for a pair of shoes. It had been four weeks since Rhea ‘asked’ you to prom and you simply couldn’t keep your mind off it. Although you two planned this whole thing as a joke, something shifted ever so slightly between the two of you, maybe it wasn’t a joke, who knows. Rhea had your heart in your throat at every moment and you were the topic of every thought that popped into Rhea’s head. More than ever the both of you were head over heels for each other, just terrified the other wouldn’t reciprocate those shared feelings.

Your parents were completely unaware you’d be attending prom. You had informed them you were staying with a friend before immediately storming off to Rhea’s house. Rhea’s parents hadn’t a clue either, they were under the impression tonight would be just another night of the two of you doing nothing for hours then sneaking out to go for a drive at three in the morning. There truly wasn’t much reasoning behind this secret, you guys just wanted to have this night for yourselves without pestering parents. 

“Urgh! At this point I’m gonna go barefoot!” You could hear yet another pair of shoes be tossed to the floor. You slid off Rhea’s counter, stepped out of her bathroom and over to her closet. She was already in her dress tearing through a pile of shoes on the floor. “What has gotten into you Rhe’?” You leaned against the doorframe laughing at the fact that Rhea of all people was stressing over shoes. 

 Rhea rolled her eyes ignoring your banter. “Would it make me a hipster if I wore converse?”

“Oh absolutely, I dare you!” 

“You know I will,” Rhea retorted, picking up a black pair of the canvas shoes.

You chuckled before turning to return to the bathroom, letting Rhea know you were gonna change. You got into your dress with ease up until you came to the zipper on the back. You groaned in annoyance, reaching behind to your back attempting to wiggle the zipper to no avail.

“Rhe’, can you help me real quick?” You asked while popping your head out the door.

“Hm? What’s up?” Rhea turned around and questioned before making her way up to you, trying to keep her gaze from falling down to the hand placed on your chest, keeping the dress from completely slipping from your body.

“Zippers stuck,” You pouted, turning around. Rhea’s hand swept across the base of your neck, sweeping your hair to the side. You watched her through the mirror as she began fumbling with the metal, ultimately getting it to slide up your back.

After an awkward exchange of bashful looks the two of you finished getting ready in each other's company. You sat next to Rhea slipping into your shoes while she tied off her converse, took a handful of polaroid pictures together, then eventually snuck out Rhea’s window to begin your hike to the school.

══════⋆☆⋆══════

“Ouu! Ripley’s got a date!” Was whistled out by a classmate as you and Rhea made your way down the congested hallway, making Rhes roll her eyes.

“Shut up dickhead! We’re here as a joke.” Rhea rebutted, flipping the guy off as she carried on down the hall. 

Here as a joke but her flushed cheeks and sweaty hand gripping yours told a slightly different story.

“Dickheads always running their mo-” Rhea muttered, stepping into the crowded gymnasium.

“Shh. It’s fine, you shouldn’t worry about them.” You cut off Rhea, giving her hand a squeeze as you examined the starry night themed room. The area was dimly lit by blue leds and strings of fairy lights. Blue curtains decorated with paper stars draped over the majority of the walls while an array of tables adorned with bottles of fairy lights surrounded a dance floor full of teenagers.

You both seated yourselves near the stage where a live band was playing. Your legs pressed against one another as you fell into an array of conversations. Thirty minutes had managed to sneak by before your meaningless conversation was cut short by your biology teacher.

“You girls gonna sit here and chat all night? Go dance!” 

“But dancing is lame, Mr. Brown.” Rhea groaned while you both turned to face the man.

“I promise you that in ten years you’ll regret not doing anything at your senior prom. Seriously, go dance!” Your teacher stood behind you giving his words of advice. Rhea peeked over to you looking for your opinion. You gave her a ‘why not’ shrug before rising from your seat.

“But I don't even know how to slow dance.” Rhea whined to herself under her breath as she stood up. “If we have to dance, we’re dancing in the corner cause I’m gonna look stupid.” She stipulated.

You guided Rhea over to a secluded section of the dance floor near a wall, reassuring her that you also had no clue on what you were doing. 

“We’ll just do what everyone else is doing, Rhe’.” 

“I think this right,” Rhea unassuredly giggled with a racing heart, taking a hold of your left hand while wrapping her free hand around your waist. You shook your hair to cover your flushing cheeks as you brought your right hand to rest on her shoulder. The pair of you began swaying to the music while trying to hold back laughter, both in slight disbelief at your current situation. Prom was the last place either of you ever expected to be attending.

You were already trailing back into the pit of those sapphire eyes, drowning out all external noise you missed Rhea humming about how beautiful you looked. You were too occupied taking in the essence of your childlike crush to take notice of the grip Rhea had on your waist tightening. You were fully prepared to stare into those eyes all night, but Rhea was eager to run a risk.

A set of warm lips fell onto you abruptly, pulling you by the waist into a desperate kiss. All five senses rushed over your body, sending a rush of adrenaline through your bloodstream, placing you in awe too shocked to move.

Rhea forced herself to pull away, letting a sigh of relief out before the panic settled in, “Shit. I, god I’m so-”

Your thoughts had just now grasped what just happened.

This was a kiss that spent years in the making…you were not just gonna let it end like that.

Your hand slipped to the back of Rhea’s head, pushing Rhea back into the kiss, forcibly putting an end to her apology. She immediately fell back into your lips, closing her dilated eyes. While her tongue slid across your bottom lip begging to deepen the kiss, her hands slid up to cup your cheeks. Time slid away as the two of you fell into each other in your isolated corner of the gymnasium.

Rhea pulled herself from your lips breathless, her parted lips forming an open smile. She wanted more. You attempted to collect your thoughts while catching your breath. Both of you were attempting to draft a response while gazing into each other, because what do you say after tasting your best friend of five years?

“Cool.” You nodded

Rhea shook her head scoffing out a laugh, still making an attempt to regulate her breath. She took grip of your hand, giving it a squeeze before beginning to pull you into the hall without speaking a word.

“Wher-”

“Just follow me!” Rhea cut you off, rushing through the halls as she dragged you behind herself, both of you trying not to stumble over your dresses. 

She halted in front of the nurses office before fiddling with the keypad on the door, “God bless modern technology,” She muttered, managing to get the door open as you watched in disbelief. “Don’t even ask.” She chuckled, scanning the hall to make sure you were in the clear before tugging you into the room.

Once Rhea’s foot forced the door shut her lips directly got to work pinning themselves to your neck, nipping at the delicate skin. 

“Shit Rhe’, there might be cameras.” You pushed through a stunned whine. 

“There's none…” Rhea couldn't even pull her lips away from your skin as she spoke, “Wouldn't stop me either way, I’ve waited too long for this.” She grunted, dragging her kisses to your collarbone. “Now please tell me I can keep going.”

“I don’t think I could ever tell you to stop.” You pulled Rhea’s face to meet your eyes, whispering your confession. There was no need for Rhea to open her mouth, the look on her face alone told you that was exactly what she needed to hear.

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited for this.” Rhea growled, grasping your cheeks as she pulled you over to the nurses twin sized treatment bed. 

She brought her legs to straddle over you, lowering her chest to hover over you. Rhea was attached to you like a dog, her lips were sloppy against yours as her hands snuck to pull up the skirt of your dress. 

Rhea brought herself between your legs, in a rush to finally get a taste of your core.

“Please…I’m begging you, please don't make me wait more than I already have.” Rhea looked up at you pleading.

Your heart was in your throat as you fervently nodded. “I wanna hear your voice,” Rhea begged, whispering out your name.

“Rhea, please just do anything, I need, I need you.”

With that said she hurriedly slid your panties down your legs, tossing them to the foot of the bed. Rhea was making it clear that tonight was her time to shine.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…” Rhea murmured, awed at the sight of your soaked cunt. Her arms tangled themselves around your legs. After years her tongue finally made contact with your delicacy, she preached a string of curses, finally getting what she was after. You propped yourself on your elbows to catch the sight of Rhea exploring your brand new world. You could feel a smirk between your legs as her eyes met yours, thirstily watching you watch.

“Tastes so good.” Rhea praised, sweeping her tongue through your folds before bringing herself to round your clit. You chewed on your cheeks to hush the moans escaping your throat as Rhea wrapped her lips around your sensitivity, allowing her to lightly suck at your skin. Your legs made an unsuccessful attempt at wrapping around Rhea’s head only to be overtaken by her hands, prying them open, giving her full access to devour your aching heat. 

The stealthy addition of two fingers into your emptiness was only amplifying the wobbly knees her mouth alone had created. Her fingers began steadily massaging into you, causing an arch to form over your back. The mixture of Rhea’s roaming tongue and grinding digits already had a knot forming in your stomach.

“Fucking Christ Rhe’, where the fuck did you learn all this.” You struggled out through moans. Rhea let out a soft chuckle as she continued to take your clit into her mouth, rolling her tongue piercing over your sensitivity.

Rhea gave your cunt one last kiss before she brought herself to face you. Now that Rhea had finally gotten a taste of your mouth she couldn't get enough, she had to return for more. Your lips once again blended together, your moans now slipping into Rhea’s mouth as her fingers curled inside your core. 

“God, you sound so beautiful.” Rhea admired, pressing her warmed forehead against yours while her digits continued toying with your clenching walls. Her thumb was soon added to the mixture of pleasure as it rubbed rhythmic circles over your bud. 

“Rhe’, I want to feel you against me,” You opened your eyes, pulling from her kiss while your hips rolled against her working digits. “Please.”

Rhea nodded, her eyes full of adoration, she’d do whatever it took to please you no matter if it took minutes or hours. She let her fingers come to a declined pace before withdrawing from your warmth. She stood up, licking her fingers clean before riding her dress up her legs and dropping her panties. She rushed to return to the bed pulling your leg into the air before propping a leg of hers next to your hip.

Rhea settled her heat against yours, letting out a heavy breath. She gradually started rocking her hips against you, mixing your slick together. You watched as the new sensation of pleasure washed over her, causing her jaw to drop open and her eyes to roll to the back of her head. 

“Just…just like that.” You whimpered as you began to grind your hips at a matching pace, chasing towards your climax. Rhea’s arm clung to your leg that was situated in the air for support as the sound of quiet moans and the rustling of dress fabric bounced around the room. 

“Feels so good, fuck.” Rhea quickened her motions, moaning out the nickname she created for you through heavy breaths.Rhea pushed herself further against you chasing her own high as you squirmed beneath her grinds. 

“Rhe’, I’m gonna cum.” You whined out, reaching for a hand to cling to. Her hand met you halfway, instantly taking you into her grip she pulled you up to meet her face. She was back to those oh-so passionate kisses she could now never get enough of. “Please, Rhe’!” You cried against her, her movements bucking against your cunt.

Rhea nodded into your kiss signaling for your release, her own climax just seconds away. Your series of moans brushed against Rhea’s lips as your orgasm washed over you, hers quickly following. Muffled whines echoed around the room as Rhea’s thrusts against you faltered.

After riding out your highs together, Rhea squeezed herself next to you on the tiny bed and rested her hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. “I swear to god if you say cool.” Rhea looked over at you giggling. 

“Unfair!” You joked, resting your head against Rhea’s chest. You both fell into silence simply taking in the moment, reflecting on everything that had just happened. Rhea peppered small kisses to the top of your head as you toyed with the fabric of her dress.

“We should probably get outta here before somebody finds us.” Rhea suggested, breaking the silence.

“Wanna go dance again?” You teased as you turned to face her.

Rhea quickly shook her head, “I’m never gonna dance again. I was so bad.” She laughed, “How about we go find a parking lot and makeout under the stars, hm?”

“I seriously would have never expected you to be all smoochy, Rhe’.”

“Look, I have like five years of kisses to make up for!”

[corpsebasil]

Quit Staring

ethan brainrot dont talk to me this got me like 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

The Halloween party was loud. Extremely loud, and you could barely hear yourself think, let alone the guy that was attempting to hit on you.

“So like, I’ve got this cool new game upstairs. It’s called a Ouija Board and you talk like, to the dead and shit. Wanna try it out?”

What.

“Ouija? The game literally everyone knows about?” You took a long sip of your watered down vodka red-bull and looked the frat boy up and down. “You know there’s a movie right?”

“Ah whatever.” He seemed to be slurring a bit, blinking lazily at you. “Nice dress by the way. What are you, an angel?”

You only stared, wondering if barking at him would make him go away, when an arm slid around your waist and pulled you into their chest. You tensed before realizing it was just Ethan; he’d lost his helmet at some point in the night and his dark hair was a tad bit sweaty.

“She’s Juliet.” He told the guy, gesturing to his knight costume and your angel wings. “I’m Romeo.”

“Is that, like, a movie?” The frat boy asked, peering at you in confusion. You almost gawked.

“Dude are you serious?” Ethan’s eyebrow raised. The frat boy, looking suddenly a bit embarrassed, found himself somewhere else to be. “Jesus, what an idiot.”

You snorted and pulled away, turning to face him. He seemed a little tipsy but not too bad, his expression warm and eyes soft as they stared down at you.

“Thanks for saving me.” You said, reaching out to adjust his costume a bit. “I thought I was actually losing brain cells.”

“Yeah he—”

“Ohmygoood.” A girl cooed, pausing in front of the two of you. You raised your brows and took a sip from your rapidly emptying cup. “I love that movie.” The side eye Ethan gave you was so astronomical you almost spit out your drink. “Wow. And Leo is so hot, right?” She continued, oblivious to the both of you’s disinterest.

But when she laid her hand on his shoulder, smiling flirtatiously, you felt something strangely territorial run over you. If knives could be magically produced by your vision this sorority sister’s hand would fall off.

“You don’t really look like Leo, though.” She said and you moved forward, wrapping your arm around Ethan’s waist. Her eyes widened and she immediately moved back, to her credit. You almost admired her rapid retreat. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I’m drunk. Are two you a couple?”

“Yeah—” Ethan said, at the same time as you said, “Couple of besties.”

Ethan turned his head to look at you and you avoided his stare, sure you would laugh if you saw what would most likely be his amused expression as well. The girl whistled under her breath and nodded, mumbling ‘okayyy’ under her breath as she moved away.

The second she was gone you laughed, pulling Ethan closer to you and glancing up at him. He was looking down at you with a quizzical expression on his face, his brows knit. You shook him a little, an awkward laugh leaving your mouth.

“Quit staring at me, E.” You teased. You tousled his curls and grabbed his hand, dragging him along with you. “Come on. I say we get super drunk, go to my place, and order takeout. I would massacre a small town for a Caesar salad and a Diet Coke—what?”

He’d tugged you to a stop, those brown eyes of his on your face.

“Do you—” he started, seeming hesitant, and you smiled.

“Do I what?” When he didn’t speak you took his face in your hands, ignoring the stunned expression he now wore. Lord, you must’ve been tipsier than you’d thought. “Spit it out E.”

He swallowed.

“Do you like me?”

Your eyes narrowed, thinking, before you let out a laugh. He tensed, mouth forming into a frown, but you only giggled, running your thumbs across his cheeks, not allowing him to pull back from your grip.

“Of course, E, what the fuck?” You tugged him forward and his breath hitched, but he let out a cry of protest, batting you away when you placed an extremely wet, extremely loud kiss to the side of his face.

“Jesus, Y/N.” He wiped at his cheek, glaring, but you could tell he was holding back a laugh. “That was awful.”

“I could try again.”

“I’m extremely seduced, thank you. Good god.” He wiped at his face a couple more times, cringing, before allowing you to yank him towards the drink tables.

-

An hour or so later the two of you sat bundled up in your bed, eyes glued to the screen as you watch Girl vs. Monster.

You had insisted on watching a classic horror movie and, when Ethan had asked if you wanted to see Stab 1 or Halloween or something, you’d opened up Disney Plus. Of course Ethan, being Ethan, only pretended to protest before he’d gotten into the film.

“These outfits are questionable.” He said, taking a long sip from your Diet Coke. He had his arm wrapped around you, you snuggled up into his side. “I mean, extremely.”

“This is peak Disney Channel fashion.” You argued, glancing up at him, he pressed his lips together in a smile that made him look so boyish, so adorable, that your stomach dropped. “They um—” You looked away, your face warming. “If you think this is bad you should’ve seen Shake It Up.”

“Wait, do you know that scene in Camp Rock where the girl’s playing the keyboard thingy and it’s awful and everyone pretends it’s great?”

“She’s really good.” You gasped, and Ethan’s laugh made you grin.

He tugged you further up onto to him and propped his chin on your head, his free arm looping over your waist so that he held you completely in his grasp. You felt his fingers twitch against your stomach, him getting adjusted and comfortable, and when he’d finally settled he began running his fingers lazily back and forth over your stomach.

You swallowed.

You weren’t sure why you felt like your skin was buzzing, your heartbeat quickening as you felt his chest rise and fall against your back.

“E?” You whispered, and heard the vibration of his hmmm? run through you. “When you uh,” you took in a slow breath when his arms tightened a fraction around you. “when you asked me if I liked you, what did you mean?”

His movements stilled and he sighed, shrugging. You turned in his grip to face him, your eyes searching his own.

“What did you mean?” You pressed, your cheeks flushed as you stared at your friend. He seemed to take in your expression with a hint of surprise, then with encouragement, as he reached out ran his fingers through your hair.

“I think you know what I meant.” He said, those doe eyes finding your own, and he’d barely opened his mouth to say something—you didn’t know what—before you lunged forward and kissed him.

He let out a noise of surprise that quickly turned into a sigh as you pressed your mouth against his own, clutching his shirt in your hands as his arms slid further around your back. You moved away a fraction to look at him as he pulled you to straddle his lap, and the smile he gave you was so gorgeous you screamed internally.

You felt like you needed to take a lap, to run around, to call Ethan and tell him what just— You wanted to tell Ethan about himself. Good god, this was what you got for kissing your friends.

“So I’m assuming you do like me?” He teased, biting nervously on his bottom lip, and you leaned in to kiss him again. This time it was slower, your mouth parting his own as you licked into him, and he groaned. “You have no idea,” he whispered, moving his hands to touch your face, “how long I’ve had a crush on you for.”

The butterflies you felt were insane. Especially when he asked, kissing you softly, “will you please be my girlfriend already?”

You laughed and nodded, slipping your fingers into his hair.

this shit got my kicking my FEET

[taylormarieee]

A whole new world with you Luke Castellan

Summary: You and Luke discover a whole new world with each other by diving deeper in your feelings for one another...

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Fluff, Heavy make-out sesh, Sexual tension, spicy, no smut yet(be patient girlies), Getting in trouble, Reader and dad flashback moment, Wingman Percy, Reader deals with a bully/harasser, slight angst...

A/N: For the part where I wrote The hades kid assaulting reader I was listening to Nothing's New by Rio Romeo. This is a disclaimer for people who don't want to read it. There's no actually sexual assault but if you think it is please don't read if it triggers you. Thank you.

Previously:

"This is your stop M'lady." He says with a smirk as he bows. You giggle and playfully hit his arm.

"Get up you goofball." You tell him, "Before we get caught."

"But that's what's so fun about it." He says smirking at you. You two just stand there staring at each other.

"Well, uh I'm gonna go." You say smiling before walking up the steps to your cabin.

"Hey wait!" He yells before running up to you. He grabs your waist and kisses you.

You kiss him back passionately and gently grab his curls. He pushes you softly against the door of the cabin eagerly grabbing your soft hips and your waist.

"See you tomorrow pretty girl." He says smirking before walking away.

"Wait! What does this make us?"

"Very Close friends." He says with a wink.

"But Luke I don-"

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Chiron yells out.

Oh no... You two were in deep shit...

Now:

You and Luke were now getting reprimanded at 11:00 at night by Chiron and Mr.D.

Well mostly Chiron, Mr.D really just stood there.

"You know what! You two are off the hook for now but if I ever and I mean EVER catch you guys again then there will be serious. consequences."

You both didn't try to argue or complain back so you guys shook your heads and walked away.

"So you gonna let me in?" Luke asks with a smirk on his face. You stand there looking at him in utter disbelief.

"Are you serious right now? We just got in trouble for making out and you wanna come inside? Good night Lukey." You say with a giggle at the end.

"Good night pretty girl." He says smiling at you before giving you one last kiss before departing.

You smile to yourself and walk inside the cabin and get ready for bed.

10:34am

You see the gang and walk over to them. They all see you coming and Percy and Luke switch seats.

You look confused but don't ask questions because you like Percy. "Hey guys! What's up?" You greet them all.

Grover says hi and Percy blushes. "Hi Percy Jackson!" You say with a smirk on your face.

"H-Hi." He greets. You giggle and sit down with them. You all chit chatting and eating.

"Hey, Can I ask you something?" Percy asks in a hushed voice. You shake your head with a faint 'mhm'.

"Are you and Luke dating? Cuz he constantly talks about you. Like it's so annoying!" He laughs.

You laugh and look back at Percy. "We haven't really had that talk yet. I don't exactly know what we are. He said "Close Friends" So I guess that's what we are. Friends with benefits." You explain.

Percy shakes his head and speaks, "No. You guys are dating and I've decided because I said so." He says.

Your eyes widen at Percy's sass and you giggle. "Ok Mr. Percy sir!" You say making a solute motion.

You both laugh and Percy looks back to Luke before turning back to you.. "So you and Luke are going to go on a little picnic date that me and him set up." He sarts.

"So meet him by the lake at 9:35 tonight. But make sure to be back by 11:00, cuz that's when Chiron does his daily patrol around all the cabins." He says before Annabeth and Grover start packing up.

Leaving you and Luke alone together. Percy winks at you before walking off.

You make eye contact with Luke and he smiles at you. "Hey pretty girl." He says.

You giggle as heat rushes to your face. "Hi Lukey." You respond. He chuckles at your flustered behaviour.

"See you later?" He asks with a smirk on his cute features. You nod and smile at him.

"Yea, I'll see you later." You respond. You get up to make your offering to your mother and then walk to Archery.

11:20am

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You grab the arrow tightly in your hand.

You reminisce all the times your dad taught you. You remember the speech and advice he always gave you.

2 years ago...

"Remember... It's not rocket science but you need to be cautious." Your dad says.

"I know dad! Why do you keep reminding me?" You say, holding the arrow and trying to concentrate.

"Because..."

You shoot the arrow and miss the target completely. "You end up getting results like that."

"Ugh! This is so hard!" You yell out in anger. Your dad's eyes soften and he places his hand on your shoulder.

"It took me months to fully master how to use a bow and arrow properly. You just need patience. Patience..."

"Like a lion. Yea dad I know." You say smiling at him. "Your form was off babygirl. You just need to tweak a few things and I promise, In no time you'll be better than me." He says.

Back at Camp...

You let the arrow go from you hands and hit the target completely. You hear someone cheering and whisper under your breath. "Dad?"

You open your eyes and see a boy about your age walking towards you.

"Nope, not your dad." He says with a smile on his face. "That was a perfect shot, and with your eyes closed? Damn. That's skill." He says.

"Uh, thanks?" You question a little confused as to who this is and why he's talking to you.

"My names Jack. Son of Hades." He introduces. Your eyes widen.

You've heard about Hades kids. Granted they keep to themselves they like to cause trouble just as much as ares kids do.

"Nice to meet you." You respond starting to walk towards the archery set up to put your bow and arrows away.

You try to get away from this guy as much as possible trying to find Percy, Luke, somebody.

"Hey wait where are you going? Thought we could talk." He says grabbing your arm.

You pull away your arm from his grasp and turn to keep walking. "Sorry but there's nothing to talk about." You say rolling your eyes.

He jogs up next to you and looks at you while trying to keep up with your pace.

"Well I mean you look really pre-"

"Look here man, I have some places to be and some people to meet so if you don't mind, whatever this is? It's over." You say giving him a death stare.

"Fuck did you just say?"

"You fucking heard me Jack... ass" You say smiling at the joke you made.

This seems to only fuel his anger more but little did he know your temper was much worse.

"You know what. I'm gonna teach you a thing or two." He says grabbing your arms.

You slap his face before he could even do anything for real. He quickly grabs your waist making you fall on top of him.

You push off of him and he kicks you making you fall down and hit your head on the grassy floor.

He climbs on top of you and pins your hands down. You knee him in the crotch and push him off you.

12:25pm

You quickly get up and run till you can't run anymore. You run like theres no tomorrow until you reach Percy's cabin where he was claimed as Poseidon's son.

You slam into the room and look around. "Percy!?" You cry out. You fall on your knees and notice Luke and Percy sitting with each other.

Tears are falling down your eyes as you cry in front of them. They look at each other confused and then immediately rush to your side.

"W-What happened? Are you o- OH MY GOD! You bleeding! What happened?!" Percy asks. He notices bleeding on your cheek and the back of your head.

You must have hit a rock. Before you could explain Jack barges in after following you and he sees you around Luke and Percy.

Percy's eyes turn to slits as he glares at the boy that just burst in his cabin.

"Who are you! What did you do to my girl!?" Luke yells standing up and approaching the guy.

He grabs the boy by his shirt collar and shakes him with anger. "Answer my damn question!" Luke yells.

Jack stayed silent and his eyes were wide because he knew Luke, they had gotten into an altercations before and it was only a matter of time before Luke rememb-

"Oh wait! I know you. Your that hades kid that was harassing those girls in the hermes cabin. I'm gonna kill you." He says.

But before anything gets too intense that it already has Percy yells Luke's name and he turns around.

"Luke! She fainted! We need to get her to the infirmary." He says trying to hold you up.

Luke glares at Jack once more before rushing to you. He picks you up bridal style and rushes you out.

"I'll deal with you later bro." He says before quickly rushing to the infirmary.

"Chiron! She needs help! Can you treat her!? Please, she's my girl and she's bleeding. I need to protect her, please Chiron." Luke begs. He holds you in his hands pleading like he's about to lose the love of his life.

Because you were. No matter how much you wanted to deny these feelings he Loves you.

He loves you with all his heart. Of course he's not going to admit it to you just yet.

The last thing you heard him say during all this was "What did you do to my girl!?"

That was the last thing you heard before you looked at percy and blacked out.

Chiron takes you to the infirmary and lays you on the bed and helps you with a few other half-bloods.

7:35pm

When you wake up, Percy, Annabeth, Grover, and Luke are hovering over you like your guardians. Protecting you from any harm.

You notice Luke has bandaids on his face and he's patched up on his hands with slight blood coming from his knuckles.

You gasp seeing him hurt and you get that stinging feeling in the back of your head as you lift your body up.

They all immediately rush to your side. "Are you ok pretty girl?" Luke asks.

"You've been asleep for 7 hours. You got hit pretty hard and then Chiron gave you an antidote to help you get some sleep." Annabeth says.

"Oh. I barely remember everything. I can recall what that kid Jack did..." You start off.

You visibly see the anger that gleams in Luke's eyes when you say his name.

"And then I remember getting to Percy's cabin and Luke yelling and then I blacked out." You say looking at your fingers.

Luke's eyes saden as you recall everything that happened. He's just relieved that you didn't hear him saying how much he loves you.

"Lukey? Are you ok?" You ask with worry on your face. He smiles and nods, "Yea pretty girl. I'm ok."

Percy and Grover smile at each other and Annabeth rubs your arm. "Were gonna give you guys some space ok?" she says.

You nod but grab Percy's arm. "Thank you Percy. For being there when I needed you most. I appreciate it." You say with a smile on your face.

"Your welcome, but don't thank me. Thank this one. He fought for you and carried you all the way here. I was just emotional support." He says smiling at you before giving you a hug.

Once they leave it's yet again just you and Luke together.

"How's your head baby?" He asks his voice low and tired. You look at him as heat rushes to your face.

"I-It's ok now. Still stings but you know it'll get better." You respond all flustered.

"Mhmm."

"Our little date you and Percy planned is in 2 hours Lukey." You say smiling.

"I planned the whole thing, Percy just told you!" He says chuckling, "Don't give Percy any credit for the planning part baby." He says.

You smile and mutter out an 'ok'.You play with his hair, twirling each individual curl.

He groans out and your face get hot hearing him groan. If his head wasn't laying on your lap, you'd squeeze your legs together at the sound.

Your hands starts trailing down, your pretty nails rubbing up and down his back.

"Mhmm baby... That feels good. Don't stop." He says groaning again. He lets out a relaxed sigh when you keep doing it.

You twirl his hair with your other hand and run your hands trough his scalp making him groan.

You felt that feeling in your stomach. That feeling that feels like butterflies are fluttering in your stomach.

You feel alot better now that he's here with you. You were so excited to finally tell Luke how you feel.

How you truly feel. You love him. You love him so much and want to be with him for the rest of your life.

He was your whole world. He was what kept you grounded and you noticed that from the first day you got there and that was officially a month ago.

You honestly couldn't believe it's take you a month to fully accept your feelings for him.

"Hey. Cme on. Lets go get you something to eat. I'm sure your hungry." He says with that adorable smile on his face.

You look at him and trace the scar on his face. You stare deeply in his eyes with nothing but love.

You watch as he leans into your touch. You bring your face closer to his and his sleepy eyes drift down to your lips. He's still a little hazy from your massage.

"Kiss me Lukey." You whisper against his lips. He didn;t think twice and immediately smashed his lips on to yours.

You whimper at the contact you've been yearning for all day. Your hands get lost in his hair and his mind gets lost in your lips.

He slips his tongue against your bottom lip silently pleading to taste you.

You gasp as he grabs you waist. He takes that as a chance to slip his tongue past your plump lips.

He sits up and you slowly start to lean back on the infirmary bed. He grabs the back of your head and you wince a bit.

He immediately backs away blabbing out a bunch of apologies. " 'M sorry baby. Are you ok?" He asks, his lips all red and swollen from the heated kiss.

You out of breath from that breathtaking kiss and your eyes are all hazy and brain all fuzzy.

"Yea yea, I'm fine just please keep kissing me." You respond grabbing his collar and smashig your lips back on his.

He smiles into the kiss at your eagerness and keeps kissing you. You grab him and pull him towards the bed to get on. He gets on and hovers over you as you both keep kissing.

You shift under him and he grabs you waist again helping you as his hand spreads you legs so you can make room for him.

He starts kissing your neck and leaving hickeys before going right back to your lips.

He quickly removes your shirt and you lift your arms to help him. He eventually sits and takes you position and grabs you to straddle his waist.

He looks at you and your body with love. He stares at the tiny goosebumps on your skin and the little scars you have that he wants to ask all about and draw stars around your scars for hours.

"Your so gorgeous." He whispers. You smile and kiss his lips.

"And your so handsome." You giggle and his eyes sparkle with love. You continue to kiss him passionately and you begin grinding on him but he grabs your hips and stops you.

"Wait... wait baby." He says staring at the floor. You stare at him with confusion before he makes eye contact with you again.

"N-Not like this. I don't want our first time to be in an infirmary. I want it to be romantic because..." He trails off.

"Because what?" You asks confused. He sighs and rubs circles on your waist as he grabs your shirt.

"Because I love you pretty girl." H says staring at you. Your eyes widen and he explains.

"I've loved you for a while now. I know it's been a week since we had that whole altercation but I've loved you since we first made eye contact and I've told you that."

You stare at him frozen. "P-Please say something. Your scaring me." He says.

"Yea, you know I love you. I love you so much. That night when I told you. I Love you Luke Castellan."

Taglist: @angelicdanvers @glorywielder101 @reader-bookling123 @@istillremberthefirstfallofsnow @@kneehe-nehar7 @@lizziesfirstwife @@csifandom @@rhydianissuperior. @@prettyinsatiable @@leo-lvr @@angelinajolie0213 @maryann2013 @repostingmyfavs @@urmomsbananabread

A/N: The next Chapter will follow the whole date thing they have and will lead into more of them and their adventure for their love! Hope you guys enjoy this one!

[the-ineffable-dance]

Holy Palmers Kiss

Throughout their history together, the romance between Aziraphale and Crowley has mostly been expressed through incredibly subtle ways. It's been centuries (if not millennia) of nothing more obvious than a surreptitious brushing of hands or yearning looks when they think no one is watching. And of course, when they have plenty of deniability.

Good work, Aziraphale... hand on the chest of the Thin Dark Duke, and if anyone asked, you were just making sure that young lady didn't get bumped.

And this is for a very good reason. It quite literally isn't safe for them to be openly romantic with one another, even now. Demons like Hastur and Shax are constantly popping up... Michael and Uriel are always watching... eyes are everywhere.

They have certainly gotten closer to being open in the years that separate the two seasons. Crawley sprawls all over that bookshop like he has a personal vendetta against chairs - removes his glasses as soon as he steps foot inside (which is an incredibly coded action that I would love to take a more in depth look at in the future) - gives up the keys to the Bently... And Aziraphale himself has those longing looks - calls him up to talk enough that Crowley knows his "tones of voice" - and then, we get The Ball.

Technically, The Ball is for Nina and Maggie... or at least that's what Aziraphale says. We get the lovely little moment in the pub where he and Crowley try to come up with the best ways to get humans to fall in love with each other. But the moment Aziraphale mentions Jane Austen having characters dancing with each other and realizing how in love they were, I think at least for him the focus changes to this... THE BALL IS FOR CROWLEY. And once he starts giving away books to make sure the ball will be perfect, there can be no question. The entire idea is a way for him to be able to dance with Crowley.

That's why, for me, the most romantic moment in all of Good Omens, at least from Aziraphale's point of view, is this moment right here.

Vavoom! Sorted! Look at the way Crowley even curls his fingers around Aziraphale's hand! This is peak Aziraphale romance as a fan of Jane Austen.

But he's also a fan of Shakespeare. Even the gloomy ones. And every time I watch this scene, I'm reminded of a different ball from one of the gloomy plays that Crowley would hate and Aziraphale would swoon over. Romeo and Juliet. A fitting parallel to an angel and a demon being in love.

In Romeo and Juliet, at the end of the first act, is another ball. Romeo tries to get Juliet to kiss him, and she turns him down with this...

"For saints have hands that pilgrim's hands do touch/ And palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss"

There's quite the back and forth here between Juliet and her Romeo about hands and lips and such, (and eventually Romeo gets his way) but the parallel for Aziraphale in this exchange is unmistakable. He, as the angel, is the saint (and stand in for Juliet), Crowley his pilgrim. Snogging in public would be absolutely out of the question for our dear prim and proper Aziraphale... but this is a chaste kiss, and one that he is showing the world. A public declaration of his love for Crowley. A Holy Palmer's Kiss.

It's certainly debatable if Crowley would have picked up on it. Like a lot of their coded language there are times when one of them misses what the other is trying to say. But in my opinion, this was not only a public declaration, but his confession to Crowley. This is his "I love you" as much as "I forgive you" is.

Just for fun, here's how Romeo finally gets his kisses (but let's have Crowley stand in for Romeo and Aziraphale for Juliet, shall we?)

Cro. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. (They kiss)

Azi. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

Cro. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged. Give me my sin again. (They kiss again)

[the-californicationist]

Troubleshooting

For @glitterypirateduck's super fun Oh, Captain! challenge. This is for prompt #8 where our deceptive captain tries to hide a secret from his gunsmith.

She could smell him long before she saw his hulking form stop in front of her office door. The sweet scent of his signature Romeo y Julieta cigars gave him away; a jewel from Villa Clara, Cuba. The tight-rolled tobacco smoldered amber and gold in the dark, its rustic funk and black licorice smoke gently curling out of his parted lips, trapped under his dirty boonie hat.  

When she had been assigned to his team, she’d been dreading the constant relocating and high profile secrecy. It was hard enough to find 5.56 ammo for that mouthy Scot’s Steyr bullpup, much less have it delivered to a black site without a postcode. But, as she let her eyes wander up his mountainous shoulders, tracing the outline of a sharp, scruffy Adam’s apple, watching as his jaw rippled and clenched to bite down on the soft end of his cigar, she admitted to herself that she could deal with a few shipping delays as long as she got to enjoy John Price. Now, just a few weeks into this roughshod operation, she ached to see what lurked under all that gear. 

She cleaned up her station, carefully screwing on the cap to her powder and putting it under the workbench. When he spoke, it was always confident but soft, like a stage whisper, words only she was meant to hear. 

“Smithy,” he took a long drag from his Cuban and pulled the creamy smoke in through his nose, a very casual French inhale, breathing it out and down sharply, purposefully avoiding her face.

He’d never called her by her name, only by his clipped version of her title of Chief Gunsmith. She knew he must be aware of it since he requested her transfer, but she had always been “Smithy” to him. 

“Captain, how are we this evening?” She gazed into his eyes with intent, hoping he would see her desire in them and be pleased. 

“We’re alright,” he took the cigar from his mouth and let it rest between his fingers, smiling down at her as he loomed, his height making her feel small. He removed his hat, placing it on her bench before leaning against the table, his huge hand spreading wide across the stainless surface. He continued,

“You know, this M4 has been giving me a bit of trouble. I cleaned it, but even after a full breakdown, the bolt isn’t sitting flush. Think you could help me get it all the way in?”

She let his quiet rumbling voice wash over her like a wave, lapping at her mind and making her breath catch in her chest. The double entendre was so obvious as to almost be in jest, but his suggestive tone - though subtle - was enough for her to believe in it. 

“Did you use enough oil? A little lubricant goes a long way, Captain, but some parts need more than others. Especially if it was a vigorous cleaning,” she threw him a bone in hopes he would bite it. 

He did, replying with a sly smile,

“Perhaps I went a little rough with her. Think you can take a look?”

He licked his lips, watching as the flush tinted her neck and cheeks, hungry for her attention. She watched him shift his weight, rocking forward towards the bench, flexing his hips. Obviously, she was getting to him. She turned up the heat, pushing her luck,

“Rough is just fine, John, but with the size of the bolt head you’ve got here, you just need to make sure she’s slick enough to take it.”

She smiled sweetly, taking the rifle from him and laying it across the bench. Now that she had turned her attention to the gun, she could only watch him from the corner of her eye. But, she knew she had landed a punch when he had to turn his head away from her and pull at the inside leg of his pants, adjusting. 

Then, as she took apart the barrel from the bolt and its lever, she realized he had been lying to her. He had replaced the trigger assembly before the bolt, effectively causing the problem he was asking her to solve. Price knew this gun better than the back of his own hand, and he had come down to her office with this game, hoping to score. 

Her heart raced when she discovered the error, and she tried her best to maintain a straight face, not wanting him to realize she’d caught him yet. She still wanted to play. 

She rebuilt the weapon, glossing over the false mistake, and pulled the bolt back flush. 

“There,” she sighed, “good as new.”

The ball was clearly in his court and she waited to see what he would do. His voice had dropped into a deep, threatening register, and he was leaning so far over the workbench that she could see his pupils dilate, pushing back the bright blue and revealing the blackness behind it,

“What was the problem, Smithy?”

He began to stalk her around the edge of the table, taking impossibly slow steps toward her side of the bench, eyes fixed on her mouth. She saw his chest rising and falling faster and stronger, lifting his protective vest and causing the lingering smoke between his lips to billow chaotically around his dark beard. She held her ground, turning her body toward his as he walked,

“You made a rookie mistake, Captain Price. One that you’re not capable of making...”

His eyes sparked to life, focusing on hers now, and he knew that he’d been discovered. She continued to dismantle his farce,

“…and I wonder how it can be possible…”

Price rounded the first corner of the table, hanging on her every word. He took his cigar and pulled a long drag.

“...that such an experienced…”

Another step. The leather of his boot creaked as he pressed it down.

“...intelligent…”

Another step. She could smell his cologne now. Vetiver. Musk.

“...diligent soldier…”

He crossed the second corner, letting the smoke fall out of his mouth, pouring like water down his chin and tangling in his beard, holding his breath to let her view the effect. His teeth were clenched together behind his full mouth, and he began to smile in a sinister, pained way. She went on, quieter, her voice betraying her nerves,

“...would somehow forget how to put his own gun back together.”

Price’s cigar had come to an end, and he crushed it out under his boot as he stood in front of her, too close for propriety, just close enough to smell her coconut shampoo. He hummed, playing along, falsifying a sense of wonder and mystery in his tone.

“That is quite the mystery, innit? Must’ve been distracted by…” Price brought his hand up to touch the tip of his gunsmith’s long braid as it lay draped over her shoulder, laying on her breast, “…something important.”

“John,” she whispered, leaning toward him instinctively.

In the half-second between her speaking his name and the silence that came after, he struck like a snake, wrapping the rest of her braid around his fist like a rope, yanking her head back and pulling her to his body, letting their gear and clothes rustle between them, not caring where the vests and belts and buckles twisted and pinched, letting the tension linger. His free hand grabbed her jaw and neck in his wide, open palm, fingers pressing into her skin, warm and callused. 

His voice was so strained and full of his want that it seemed like a growl, rambling in a rushed, fervent monologue,

“You’ve been teasing me again, Smithy. Ever since we got back from that damn operation. You’ve been coming to the gym at night, when I lift, and you wear those fucking shorts and you show off that thick arse, bending over in front of the racks, pulling them up higher so I can how see your wet cunt is soaking right through them,” his hand yanked her head back, making her gasp. He loved that noise,

“Delicious. Your pretty little cunt, ready to eat. Right within my reach. A whole gym, empty, and you pick that spot every damn time. Moving past me in the lockers, letting me smell you, and now I want a taste.” 

She felt the stinging tightness of her scalp as he tugged on her braid, locking her body in place against his, controlling her head, moving it toward his face. He grimaced like he was in agony even though she was the one under his fist. His touch was such a relief. She’d been torturing him for weeks, and she surrendered to him, pliant to his whims, hoping he understood that her lack of resistance was essentially her begging him to forgive her for leaving him starving.

“Alright,” she smiled, still at his mercy, “If you want a taste, you can have one.” She watched as his eyes grew wide with anticipation as she unbuttoned her pants and tugged down the zipper. She bit her lip and shrugged, “On your knees, soldier.”

AO3 Link

[sarawritestories]

Love Story (All Too Well Chapter 1 Pt 2)

Cassian X OC, Eris X OC

Summary: Under the Mountain, Estella, have flash backs to her 50 years in captivity, and losing hope she will ever see her lover. That is until a human girl shows up and give her and her brother Rhysand something they lost decades ago...Hope and in a matter of mere months she is reunited with the love of her life. The General of the Night Court Armies.

Content Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Torture, Dub con, Physical abuse, Under the mountain trials

A/N: Special Thanks to @milswrites and @eve175 for keeping me sane when I wrote this and honestly prevented me from scraping and starting over again!

Also Two post in one day from me! I am on a roll! And probably will be taking a small break 😅😅

All Too Well Master List ACOTAR Masterlist

The sound of Amarantha’s screams was like music to Eris Vanserra’s ears. He watched as Tamlin ripped her to shreds, glancing over to see Estella holding Feyre’s body close to her murmuring something to herself that his fae hearing couldn’t pick up on. The screams ceased and Tamlin walked back to where the young fae princess and the human cursebreaker.

Eris watched as Estella a tear-streaked face looked up at the High Lord of Spring her laced covered chest heaving, “I’m so sorry Tamlin.” She lowered her head in shame, as if this was her fault.

Tamlin lifted Estella’s face to meet his eyes, “This wasn’t your fault. Okay?”

Eris moved toward Amarantha’s mutilated body as he heard Estella let out a sob, “You asked me to protect her I failed.” Eris closed his eyes and rubbed at his chest hoping the ache would dissipate.

Eris looked over at Amarantha’s remains that were mostly ribbons of flesh and found what he was looking for as Tamlin hushed the Princess of Night. “You did no such thing, Stella, now please give her to me.”  Tamlin’s voice was tender as he knelt in front of the female holding his love’s corpse. “Come on, Flower.”  

Romeo Save Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone

Eris looked over at the dais to see Estella, half of her pinned to the back of her head, the rest of her hair had fallen past her breast in soft curls. Clad in a sheer orange gown, the fabric barely covering anything, especially how his high queen had her positioned on Tamlin’s lap. Her legs spread by his thighs, her back pressed against his chest. The Princess placed her hand over the Lord of Spring and Eris noticed his thumb moved over hers and began swiping periodically. As if he was trying to bring her comfort. The heir of Autumn knew those two were friends just never realized how close the pair was.

The red-haired male moved his gaze to the rest of the ballroom, fighting the urge to clench his fist, he caught his brother’s attention. His russet eyes met with a similar pair of Lucien, his metal eye zeroing in on him. The young Emissary of the spring court’s face was impassive though his eyes, held pure resentment. Lucien didn’t let his stare linger on his brother rather it moved to his two friends at the front of the room. Guilt threatened to take hold, but the eldest Vanserra brother forced it down in a box where he kept most of his emotions shutting the lid tight. Another person that he had let down.

“Estella, darling be a dear and entertain us.” Amarantha’s voice drew Eris his attention back to the princess of night. “Dance.”

Estella froze, “Your Majesty?”

Amarantha pinched her chin, “I said dance, has whoring you around my court made you dumb.” Eris gripped the side of his leg tightly as he glanced over to the High Lord of Night, his tanned face a mask of cool indifference, Eris gazed lowered to Rhysand’s hands to find his knuckles were white as a result of gripping the arms of his chair tightly.

“No, Your Majesty,” Estella responded. “Or perhaps you would prefer to give a dance to one person.”

Rhysand cleared his throat, “Your majesty, I would be-“

Amarantha whipped her head, “No.” She looked out to the assembly in the hall. “I will accept volunteers from anyone that is not related to her.”

Eris’s feet moved of his own accord and managed to reach the dais before Lucien could. As he bowed lowed, “Your majesty. Though I have no need for a dance, I would be honored.”

Amarantha’s voice had a jovial lilt to it, “Ah Eris Vanserra. Yes, you have my permission to use her, however, you please. Rise. Claim your whore.”

Eris rose to his full height and walked up to the young heiress. He held out a hand for her, “Come now, Viper.” Estella curled her mouth in a small snarl, though her eyes were vacant, hallow as if she mentally went somewhere else. Though she gripped his hand all the same. He yanked her off Tamlin’s lap and pressed her chest to his. His arm snaked around her waist, his fingertips grazing the bare skin of her hip. Electricity bolted up his arm at the contact though he easily ignored it.

“Estella, how do you thank Eris, for claiming you this evening.” Amarantha prodded; Eris didn’t miss her face contorted in a grimace. Before she looked up her ice blue eyes meeting his warm copper ones, life had returned to her, but Eris could feel her dread, it emulated around her like a shield. Though that didn’t stop her from lifting her hand sliding it up the red velvet embroidered vest he was wearing. Or when her soft, gentle fingers slid up his neck and through the silken strands of his long hair.

She rose on her tippy toes her plump lips inches away from his own, “Thank you, Prince Eris,” Estella closed the distance kissed him. Eris slid his hand up her back, lightly grazing her spine as his hand wrapped around her raven-colored locks and yanked her back hard enough to cause a gasp from the princess’ mouth, giving the Autumn Court Heir access to slide his tongue against her. She tasted as sweet as he hoped she would. His tongue clashing with hers he could have sworn a small moan escaped her throat.

The need for oxygen and knowing that the two had put on enough of a show for their audience, Eris pulled away, with a smirk as Estella opened her eyes her pupils blissed out from their moment. Before he could ask, Amarantha, was waving her hand, “Eris you and your pet are dismissed for the evening.”

Eris bowed, and Estella followed suit, aware that it would expose her backside to the fae standing behind them. Eris placed a hand on the small of her back and led her out into the hall. The two had walked down for a few moments the sound of Estella’s skirt swishing against her skin, her hands clasped in front of her, when she asked, “What do you plan on doing with me, Princeling?”

Exhaustion weighed heavily on the prince’s body, as he sighed, “Sleep, My Little Viper. We’re going to sleep.”

This Love Is Difficult, But It's Real

The whole court ogled around and watched as the High Lords of Prythian dropped a kernel of power on the human girl that saved them all. Eris Vanserra on the other hand watched as his brother held onto the Princess of Night as her sobs softened. He could see Lucien whispering in her ear though from where he stood even his fae hearing wouldn’t be able to decipher. Ignoring the spectacle Eris walked over to one his handmaidens.

She bowed when he approached, saying nothing, he gripped the plump woman’s sleeve and began wiping the blood of the Tiara he grabbed. Once he was satisfied, he turned and walked over to Lucien and Estella. The youngest Vanserra son tightened his hold on Estella when Eris approached. “Relax, brother, today is a joyous day. We can put aside our differences for now.” Lucien growled, “Feel free to hate me again tomorrow.”

Estella’s eyes pierced the Autumn Prince’s and Eris presents the tiara glancing down at the lace covered bodice of her dress that dipped down to her stomach, “I believe this belongs to you, Little Viper.”  He smirked as he met her eyes again. She glanced at his hands and reached out to grab the accessory from him, tearing herself from Lucien’s arms as she did so. Eris took a step back and dangled the tiara above her head, “Allow me.” He motions for his index finger to spin around. She obeyed and crossed her arms, the dark red silk of her dress swirling as she did. Her scent of Ocean mist and Jasmine invaded his nose he fought the notion to bask in her scent, as he placed the tiara on top of her head. Stepped closer and noticed the sharp breath she took as his nose brushed against her ear, “There now you look fit to rule a kingdom, Princess.”

He could hear her heartrate quicken as he took a step away and once more as cheers erupted through the cave. The three of them turned to find Feyre embraced in Tamlin’s arms, ears pointed heartbeat strong and steady. “By the Cauldron.” Lucien whispered and ran up to his friends. Leaving the two alone.

“I have to thank you, Princeling.” Estella’s voice broke the tension.

“For?”

“Giving me brief little moments of reprieve from this nightmare.” Her piercing eyes met his, “I am in your debt.”

Eris was about to dispute it when in a flash arm wrapped around Estella pulling her into a tight embrace, had he not seen the matching raven-colored hair, the heir of Autumn would have prepared for an attack. Rhysand pulled away as if remembering where he had put his hands in his pockets assessed his sister. “Are you hurt?”

Estella turned to Eris only to find he was already gone. She sighed and looked back at her brother. “I’m fine, Rhys.”

He nodded and, in her mind said, The High Lords are meeting to figure out the next steps. I don’t know how long that will take. Then out loud he said, “As your High Lord, I’m demanding you head home immediately and make sure our court held up in our absence.” Estella noticed the hint of a smirk on his face, Tell Cassian hello for me, and that I’ll be home soon.

Estella’s face lit up, she kissed her brother on the cheek, “Thank you, High Lord.” She took a step, looked back toward Lucien and Tamlin. Both males embracing Feyre. Green eyes met hers and with a dip of his chin she bolted and winnowed home.

I’ll Be Waiting

The Summer night breeze kissed her skin as she arrived in front of the town home. Home. She was home. Picking up her skirts she bolted through the front door of the town home. She could hear laughter in the dining room pause when the door slammed shut. Before anyone could get up, she ran into the room. Gasp and fallen utensils were the only thing she heard before, Morrigan her hair in perfect waves and dressed in her signature red gown rose from her seat, her eyes turning glassy. “So, it’s true? It’s over?” She asked.

Estella wiped the stray tears that had begun to fall, “Yeah. Its over.” She croaked as Mor pulled her into a bone crushing hug. “Fuck, I have missed you guys.”

A pair of scarred calloused hands tugged at her bare shoulders, “Don’t hog her, Mor.” Azriel’s deep voice joked as he pulled her into an embrace of his own. He pulled away and she felt the cool kiss of his shadows up and around her body, checking for injuries. He pressed his forehead to hers, “Its good to have your home.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and guided her to a chair. He began to make her a plate of food, as he asked, “Where’s Rhys?”

Estella eyes grew wide with the spread Azriel placed before her. Taking a heaping bite before she answered, she couldn’t help but moan as the warm food met her mouth. The bountiful flavor bursting on her tongue. She looked at Mor, and Az as she swallowed her food and said, “He said there would be a meeting with the High Lord’s about what is going to happen next, no doubt trying to get Amarantha’s” She fought the cringe at the sound of the female’s name coming out of her mouth, “men collected and figuring out what to do with them.”

Amren’s cold calculating voice was a welcome reprieve, “Why didn’t you stay with him?”

Estella turned her head to the female and smiled, “He wanted me to come home, let you know he would be back soon.” Estella, smiled and looked at the table, acutely aware of the empty missing, “Where is he?”

Azriel gave her a warm smile and placed his hand on top of her own his hazel eyes ablaze with warmth and happiness, “He went to the Illyrian camps a few weeks ago. He has been spending a lot of time up there to personally train his soldiers.  He says its to make sure they have the best training we can offer.”

Estella felt guilt bubble in her stomach, “But?”

Azriel’s face fell slightly, his shadows curling around him as a form of comfort, “He had been struggling staying in Velaris for too long. It Reminded him of you and the future you two were planning. He missed you.”

“We all did, Girl.” Amren corrected. Estella’s blue eyes met her swirling silver ones, “Don’t look so surprised. Your quick wit against these overgrown bats was impressive. It was nice to not be the only one with a silver tongue.”

Estella blinked; she couldn’t remember a time when Amren had outwardly complimented her. Though she wasn’t about to question the tiny one’s motives, she went back to shoveling food in her mouth. She went for seconds and cleaned that plate too, Azriel grabbed her plate when she attempted to go for more, “Pace yourself, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“The food was awful down there.” If she got any that was. She didn’t miss the concerned glances from her friends when she arrived. She hadn’t looked in a mirror in 50 years and she was afraid to, terrified at what her reflection might reveal. How badly Amarantha’s abuse taken a toll on her physically as it had emotionally.  Estella met Azriel’s gaze and he gave her a smile, kissing the side of her head. Estella cleared her throat, “Um, I am going to go upstairs and wash up.”

Mor gave her a warm smile, one she never thought she would see again, “Your room has not been touched, your clothes have been routinely cleaned.”

Estella rubbed her chest and the base of her throat fighting the emotion threatening to come up. “Thank you.” 

Azriel cupped her cheek. Stroking his thumb against her cheek, “Welcome home, Princess.”

She wrapped her arms around Az and squeezed him tightly. “I missed you. I never thought I would see you again.”

“Likewise.” He pressed his hand on the back of her head holding her close. “Fuck.” She pulled away at the Shadow  Singer’s expletive and saw that his eyes lined with silver. “I’m just..” He took a deep breath, “I’m just happy to see you.”

“Me too, Az. I missed your face.” He laughed wiping his eyes, as she looked to all three of her friends, “Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you.” The two females rose from their seats and as if they were reading each other’s thoughts smothered the young female into a tight embrace, where she let her tears flow freely.

Home. She was finally, Home.

On The Balcony In Summer Air

The cool night air kissed Estella's skin for the first time in fifty years as she leaned against the balcony the silk of her red night gown doing nothing to prevent the chill, but the female couldn’t bring herself to care. Looking up at the night sky. She couldn't help but smile as tears pickled her pale blue eyes. This is what it felt like:

To be free

"Hello, Sweetheart." The low timbre of a familiar voice elicited a sob to escape her throat. Turning from the view of the city, she met glassy hazel eyes, bruises darkening his tanned skin under them. His wings were tucked back, but his siphons glowed.

She gave him a watery smile, "Hello, General." She covered her mouth to stifle the sobbed. Not being able to contain herself, she leaped into his awaiting arms and legs wrapping around his waist. Burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Cassian's arm held her up by her waist, his free hand pressing the back of her head holding her close, tears streaming down his own face. Estella pulled away and pressed her lips to his.

Cassian pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, "Welcome home, Estella." And his lips reattached to hers as he took her to their shared bed. Plopping her down on the bed his hazel eyes met her blue ones he swiped a strand of hair from her face.

She cupped her hands against his face, and took a moment to look at him, his eyes had dark circles under them, as if he hadn’t had a good night’s rest in the last fifty years. He had grown out a beard the scruff rough against her skin. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”  She whispered.

Cassian cupped his hand against her cheek, tears spilling down his face. “I’m thinking that you are just as beautiful as the last time I saw you.” He kissed her forehead, “I’m thinking that I can’t believe that you are right here in my arms.” She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I’m thinking…” He took a deep breath, and she opened her eyes. “I’m thinking, how I never thought I would see you again. And yet here you are.”

Estella smiled, “Here I am.” She took his hand and placed it over her heart and he closed his eyes as he felt its steady beat. “Cassian, not a day went by where I didn’t wish to be with you. To be in your arms.” Tears threatened to fall but she forced it down. “I missed you so much.”

Cassian shushed her and placed his lips on to hers in a gentle kiss, “It’s okay, Sweetheart, I know. I missed you. More than you could ever know.” He kissed her again, “And just so we’re clear when your brother comes home. I am beating the shit out of him.”

“Cass?”

“Hmm?” He smirked.

She gripped the collar of his leathers and pulled him closer to him, he growled in approval as she whispered on his lips, “Do not say my brother’s name while you’re in my bed.” And she clashed her lips onto his.

Estella ran her fingers through Cassian’s curls as the General was fast asleep on his stomach.  Sliding out of her bed, she opened the drawer of her nightstand, grabbed a piece of parchment, and walked back out onto her balcony. Looking back once more she made sure that Cassian remained asleep as she turned back to the parchment in her hands. Opening the parchment thinking about the author of the note.

Estella awoke back in her cell. The memory of Autumn leaves and cinnamon returning to her.  She adjusted to a sitting position her brows furrowing as she felt something in her palm. Opening the note, her breath quickened as bile threatened to rise as the question, she asked the night before came to the forefront of her mind:

“Then what do you want with me, Princeling?”

One sentence gave her his answer in perfectly neat handwriting.

I want you, My Little Viper.

Estella folded the paper and threw it on the opposite side of the cell. Pulling her knees up to her chest she had to question just how far the Prince of Autumn would go to get what he wants.

Estella sighed, staring down at the swirls of Eris’ handwriting, questions swirling in her mind.  As if she summoned him with her thoughts; a note appeared in front of her. Grabbing the parchment, she unfolded it.

Will you ever truly be free, Little Viper?

Estella glared at the parchment hoping it would erupt into flames. Folding both notes, she walked into her room, placed the notes in her nightstand, and went back to bed. The General of the Night Court’s armies arm pulling her against his chest. Though luscious red hair and russet eyes plagued her dreams.

You’ll Be The Prince and I’ll Be the Princess

After fifty long years Eris, stepped into the familiar room of orange, red and gold hues of his study. Twelve heads perked up as they saw Eris step in. The familiar dark eyes of his hounds perked up and all of them ran to their owner’s side. He bent down on a knee and allowed each of them a total of one lick per dog. Unable to fight the smile from his features of reuniting with his companions. “Hello dear Friends. I have missed you dearly.”   They all swished their tails at the sound of their master’s voice.

Home after Amarantha’s fall, the High Lords met for two days in a row and after sitting in a room with massive egos, it was nice to return home to the quiet of his study.  He walked over to his desk the mountain of paperwork there. He sighed and leaned against his chair closing his eyes, only for the ice blue eyes and raven-black hair plagued his brain. He pressed his hands to his eyes and groaned.

He sat up and removed his hands from his eyes, as an idea began to form. Opening his drawer to find his favorite quill and ink pots right where he left them. Pulling them out along with the stack of parchment. Eris began to write, as soft pink lips and the scent of Ocean Mist and Jasmine lingered in his mind as his quill began swirling across the parchment:

My Sweet Little Viper. My Beautiful Mate.

It’s A Love Story, Baby, Just Say Yes

To Be Continued...

Story tags: @milswrites @eve175 @melsunshine @believinghurts @awkardnerd @historygeekqueen @mischiefmanagers @mybestfriendmademe @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @glitterypirateduck @littlestw01f @mal-adaptive-dreams @lilah-asteria @hellodarling1357 @shadowdaddies @bxm-1012 @inkyvelvet @chasing-autumns-chill @ghostwritermia @esposadomd @anuttellaa @slytherintaco @marigold-morelli @saltedcoffeescotch

If I missed someone please let me know!

[inthewychelm]

Steddie Week: Day two - Hands @steddie-week

word count: 462

Eddie has no clue how he ended up here. Like he can understand the events that led up to this point, but how he found himself propped on one knee, tenderly holding Steve Harrington’s hand in his during English class? He was still lost on the details for that. 

He believes it is more likely that he’s daydreaming but Steve’s warm hand resting in his feels so real. Also the pain shooting up his knee from dropping on the floor while reciting his lines feels pretty damn legit. 

Eddie would rather focus on the way Steve’s fingers twitch like he wants to hold Eddie’s hand fully despite the class filled with unwelcome onlookers.

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” He thinks Steve’s hands feel soft even with the calluses that are no doubt from years of playing sports. 

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” Steve's voice comes out more stilted than Eddie’s as he looks over to the page for his lines. Eddie tries not to think of how soft his lips look as they curl into a smirk. 

“O! Then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do'” Eddie pleads, bringing his other hand to cup Steve’s single hand between both. He clutches it tighter as if he feels Romeo’s excitement and desperation, perhaps it is his own as he brings their hands closer. “They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” 

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” Steve answers in turn. Though Eddie can hear the snark in his tone, it sounds like he’s joining Eddie in his fun unlike the judgy whispers he’s determined to ignore.

“Then move not,” Eddie speaks low, his lips brushing against Steve’s knuckles. “While my prayer’s effect I take.”

Eddie keeps his eyes on him as he presses his lips to Steve’s hand, not wanting to miss a second of the moment Steve is allowing him to take. He is almost foolish enough to believe that he saw Steve’s breathing hitch as they held each other's gaze. 

“Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.”

“That’s enough, Mr. Munson!” Eddie is jolted from the fantasy by their teacher’s interruption. He loosens his grasp of Steve’s hand as he turns to meet her stern expression. Steve’s touch lingers as he draws his hands away from his reach. “Back to your seat, now.”

Never one to be shamed by a snickering crowd, Eddie bows dramatically before taking his leave for his desk. Eddie slumps back into his seat, unable to focus for the rest of the period. He still feels like he might’ve just been woken from a daydream. Especially as he admires the flush that accompanies the gorgeous smile Steve sends in his direction. 

[sugar-coat-it]

i reread teenage dream and i am crying and throwing up thinking about them wanting to make it as a couple despite being young

STOP I WILL ALSO CRY AND VOM

Here is a little tidbit about that. I did in fact cry while writing it because I am a baby. this is SO SAPPY

You're both already awake when the sun peaks through the blinds, gracing the gentle features of his face. It's a routine you both know well: Matty sneaks into your room in the middle of the night and leaves when the sun comes up before anyone notices he's gone. He always jokes about how stealthy he is when he's climbing up to your window even though you have to hold your breath every time, praying he doesn't break his neck. ("It's like Romeo and Juliet, innit?" "Would you just get inside, please?")

It's quiet. It feels like you two are the only people awake in the whole world as you look into each other's eyes. Flushed cheeks and tender stares. It's the sweetest thing you've ever known. Affection courses through your body despite still being heavy with sleep. You always insist that he wakes you up before he has to go. You'd take the somber goodbye over waking to the coldness of an empty bed any day. You remember he’d kissed you hard after you said it.

"I don't want to leave," Matty admits softly, his voice scratchy.

Your heart aches in your chest, but the tender smile remains painted on your lips. Your fingers curl into his shirt, holding him a little tighter.

"I know."

"I wish I never had to leave... we could stay here, like this. Just you and me," he whispers, sleepy, his voice laced with the kind of longing poetry is written with.

You can't seem to find the words you're searching for, nothing seems like it's enough. You nod softly, searching the depths of his soft eyes for the answers. Matty carefully pulls you to his chest, burying his nose into your hair. He breathes you in deeply. 

"I think I want to be with you... always. All the time," he says, his voice thick with emotion.

Your eyes squeeze shut as unshed tears begin to prickle at them, heat gathering at the bridge of your nose. You both know you're talking about something bigger now.

"Promise me you won't let anything take you away," you whisper. You hardly recognize your own voice. It's so small.

He understands what you're asking. He doesn't even hesitate for a moment to respond. 

"I promise. I promise I won't. I'm yours. That's not gonna change, you know that?"

You don't feel like you know anything at all. You know he doesn’t either, not really. That’s the thing about being so young, it feels like you’re supposed to wake up one day and have it figured out, but that day never seems to arrive. There are only three things you know for sure. The first thing is that time isn’t always kind. But you hope she’ll take pity on you.  

Matty kisses the top of your head, cradling your head against his chest like you’re made of something breakable, his other hand at your back. You listen to the steady beat of his heart, feel the warmth of him under your cheek. You press against him like you couldn’t possibly get close enough.

“I’m scared about what’s gonna happen when school ends,” you utter against his chest.

You shudder softly as your tears soak into his shirt, unable to hold them back any longer. Matty feels his heart clench in his chest. He watches as the sunlight washes over your skin, painting you in its glow. It feels like time running out as it creeps across your frame. He’ll steal all the time in the world to stay in this moment.

"I'm scared too," he whispers back. "Scared shitless actually. But we'll figure it out, okay? We'll make it work, no matter what."

“No matter what,” you sniffle, nodding against him.

It’s quiet for a few moments. Matty gently guides his hand up and down your back, delicate, comforting fingers trailing across your spine. You can hear birds chirping outside your window, the same chorus that’s been there every morning since you were little. The second thing is that the idea of growing up and growing apart from him tears you to pieces.

"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling like this about you. Even when we're really old and gross,” he whispers, smiling through misty eyes. 

You laugh at that. He savors the sound, taking a shaky breath as he tries to etch it into his memory somehow. The arm that rests under your body has long fallen asleep. He’s numb throughout his limb all the way to his fingertips, but he doesn’t dare to move. 

“You think we have a chance then?” you murmur. It feels a little silly to ask, it’s like you’re trying to guide each other through pitch black. But, having his hand to try and lead you is enough. 

Matty pauses for a moment, considering the question. He’d asked himself the same thing plenty of times, his gut a tangle of both hope and uncertainty. He’s not dumb, he knows the chances, that nothing is guaranteed, especially not at this age. He knows the looks you both get from your parents. One of pity, like they’re already expecting heartbreak for the both of you, that the sweetness can only take you so far. It pisses him off to no end. Despite all of that, he wants to believe you two can be the exception. If that makes him naive, he can’t find it in himself to care.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “I think so.”

The third thing is that you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything.

[vampirzina]

Pls pls pls earthrealmers with like a washed up musical star turned fighter (srry if its too specific)

♫ ┆earthrealm heroes quad (raiden, kung lao, johnny cage & kenshi) w. washedstar!reader

tw: gn pronouns, sfw but one (1) suggestiveness in johnnys part, mdni

notes: yes. sorry if this is lackluster. cries

masterlist

Raiden equated you to another strain of Johnny Cage. Without even trying you seemed to have charmed him into liking you, and now you’re seeing each other… Privately, of course.

That being said: The beautiful concept of privacy is near sacred to Raiden. There’s a hc with popstar!reader where it’s said that privacy is important to him, and that’s true. In most cases when it comes to mentioning what you do or did he’s overtly casual about it, uber humble if he doesn’t mention it at all. If you were to start to put yourself back out there, this feat would only strengthen.

As a fighter, Raiden is constantly doting on you. He doesn’t let up even when you prove to him you can defend yourself. You try to be just as much caring, but sometimes he can make you feel like it’s not enough. He makes sure to remind you that whatever you do, he’s grateful.

Raiden loves it when you sing to him, and he’s not shy about that at all. Serenade him. Please. He already feels like a hopeless romantic around you. Your status, to him, is the last thing on his mind [when it’s just you and him]. He falls further in love with you if you sing to or play an instrument for him.

·········

Kung Lao watched in the distance a sight he would never let Raiden live down for the rest of his life.

Raiden looks so taken by you, but your face is scrunched in focus with a hint of frustration of messing up a few notes. He listens with a glimmer in his eyes and a quirk in his lips indiscriminately.

“Yeah, no. He’s definitely not going for lunch with us. Just look at ‘im…” Johnny starts, watching beside the other male with his hands on his hips. He goes quiet, and he looks around the perimeter.

“…Man…”

Suddenly, he raises his voice.

“Hey—hey Romeo!”

Johnny goes tumbling from a push just as he said it, and Kung Lao curses to himself as he attempts to catch the actor—and his square shades—before the floor hit him. Kung Lao up and hauls him far away, so very far away. The shove of all shoves to save Raiden’s life.

·········

Raiden feels lucky to be able to fight by your side.

─── ♫

Kung Lao actually tried to set you up with Johnny Cage, but at the slightest hint of him starting to feeling funny/differently about it he stopped. He thought you two would hit it off because of your similar pasts, plus it’s some fun when the group is lying low. He started to show out for you in order to undo what he’s done (if it were even working), and when he got you to confess to him he totally wasn’t running laps around the academy.

Kung Lao starts to spar and/or train with you more than anyone else. Sure, he and Raiden still spar, but you are quickly becoming his ultimate partner. He tries to get you into some sort of weaponry if you’re not already. When it comes to physically fighting an enemy, he loves to beat them with you.

Even as a washed up star Kung Lao still would have a sense of pride from being with you. Not because you’re some washed up star but because he’s scored such an amazing, beautiful, good and talented person like you. He genuinely cherishes you. But if anyone asks, he’ll tell them what you do first, before your name. If you’re more orientated on fixing your career, he gives you advice (even if he’s not qualified).

·········

“So,” Raiden nudged Kung Lao rather firmly. Either that, or Kung Lao was too deep in his head that he weren’t properly planted. “You and [Reader], huh?”

It took Kung Lao a moment.

“Yeah… Me and [Reader],” Kung Lao confirmed with a swell of his chest, the corner of his lip curling upwards. “And what about it, thunderboy? Jealous?”

“Oh, no. I’m alright,” Raiden shook his head somewhat, holding a hand up. “Just… Curious. They kind of appeared out of nowhere.”

“T’you.”

“To me? What do you mean to me?”

“Seriously, you never heard of [Reader]?” Kung Lao seemed offended, but couldn’t really hold the feeling. “They were like, the hottest thing… Years ago… But that doesn’t matter. They’re still cute, I’m their man. In fact, I’m the man.”

·········

Kung Lao has enough pride for the both of you.

─── ♫

Johnny Cage immediately looked you up. Nevermind that he recognized you from afar, having already known a thing or two from when you were trending. If you have anything—a wiki, a loyal fanpage, an article, whatever—he’s going to find you. You also knew a thing or two about him. You two clicked a bit more easier than his peers. And, admittedly, his flirting worked.

Privacy is not Johnny Cage’s forte, so don’t think for a second that you’ll get any, if you don’t ask. You’ll get popular again for a hot minute when (not if) your relationship goes public, however if you really want privacy he’ll try to omit some details of your intimacy from the public. But it won’t stop him from wanting to post you two. He wants to show you off, and if it makes a bit of extra cash, why not?

You’ll have to make one of your next projects about Johnny Cage. He’ll beg and plead on his knees if you don’t fold right away, even bothering you on Liu Kang’s missions. But even if you end up not doing so, he’ll commission or make a film/something for the both of you; probably includes some select of the truckloads of photos and videos he’s taken of you two, during some of your more intimate moments.

Other than doing realm business together, Johnny Cage makes a hobby out of trying to restart both of your careers. A first-time director like him could use someone in the industry like you. If you can’t act, he’ll offer to help you and/or pay for classes. If you don’t want to act, he’ll find you a manager (as if he wasn’t acting like one already). Just remember: he’s been your first fan regardless of who actually was. You’re attached at the hip with him.

·········

Absolutely exhausted, is what you felt. You hadn’t had a chance to rest like this ever since Liu Kang had his dealings in Outworld.

You lie on top of Johnny, your arms curled around his torso underneath his arms and your face buried into the warm alley of his neck. Johnny could smell your shampoo, and made sure you knew that. He always tells you how much he loves it; how much he loves you.

You’ve been hearing yourself for at least an hour.

Johnny kept his eyes squinted from amusement trained on his phone, watching back old performances of yours with a small smile on his face. He could watch you for many more hours than just one, but he knows how exhausting it must be to constantly have to hear yourself.

“Pitch perfect, baby. That’s why I love you,” Johnny praised as the video ended, his head turning to give you a long kiss on the curve beside your nape. “You think your fans could ever guess you bash some guys’ head in on the regular? Mine do.”

·········

Johnny Cage makes sure you two are the new hottest couple.

─── ♫

Kenshi instantly might not have wanted anything to do with you at first, I think. He didn’t necessarily avoid you, but he kept it simple and classy with you. Yeah, you’re cute and you may not have been all that famous anymore, but there had to be someone who checked for you every then and again. To him, being seen with you made you both targets. But when he realized that you could fight, something changed.

You were sort of out of his league and Kenshi knew that. It took Johnny, of all people, to help him out. Johnny knew bits and pieces of you, but when he saw that Kenshi was dead serious, he straightened up. He even looked you up for him so that they could research together, that way Kenshi could have something to talk about with you the next time you saw each other.

He doesn’t say it, but Kenshi loves the sound of your voice. Pre and post-incident, but moreso post-incident. He lets it guide him anywhere; to the bedroom, to sleep, anywhere, to do anything. You seem to notice his reliance on your voice even with sento and it flatters you incredibly. You make sure to use it as much as possible.

And god forbid you get a sore throat or lose your voice around Kenshi. He’s not letting you out of reach, and any doubts of his ability to cook [post-incident] are disproven that same day. He manually heals you back to health. Even when you’re sure you can still be a competent fighter, Kenshi insists that you rest. He’ll be back before you know it.

·········

Kenshi loves the sound of your morning voice the most.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Liminal (RL!Mia Winters x MC/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8/Resident Lover Genre: Fluff and angst and fluff and angst Rating: Idk T? for blood. kind of. Warnings: Major character death, major spoilers (mainly implied) for Resident Lover, minor violence (not in detail) Summary: Mia's memories layer over each other, nineteen lives and hundreds of different loops, confusing and muddling her perception of the present. There is only one constant: Love. Notes: Less of a series of scenes and more like a lot of musing, with a tiny, tiny "scene" at the end. Most of the Mia/MC vibes are implied (referenced past fwb situation, but it's implied that they had feelings beyond that). References to the MC dating a few of the other characters because loops.

She doesn’t intentionally seek the memories out, doesn’t chase the heart-killer of nostalgia, the wretched thing hiding rot behind a shiny facade. But neither does she spend any effort to avoid the trappings of the past. When the moments come, when deja vu greets her, Mia only ever lets it wash over her. Peacefully. Hauntingly. After this many lives, it is the easiest lesson to heed.

Sometimes the memories come with a smile, a soft exhale that flows into a snicker. The first time she watches you on stage, pouring your heart out as Romeo, she can’t help but remember having to help you cram for your Language Arts final. Recalls the way your lips pouted after a particularly exasperated sigh; she can trace the mental image of the way those lips curled back into a smile at one of her dumb jokes. It’s the joke itself she can’t remember. A jab at Shakespeare, probably, the man an easy choice of target.

There’s a moment (it repeats, by God it repeats, a dozen times over the loops, every instance layered on top of the last) where she sits next to you on a couch meant for three. Instinct makes her legs twitch, yearning to prop her feet up on your lap, not letting anybody sit between you. Instead, she suppresses a smile, and watches as one of your roommates all but sits on top of you. It doesn’t matter which one; in Mia’s eyes, they’re both better than Miranda, if only in this moment, for this purpose.

Other memories make her breath hitch in her throat, words stuck to the sides of her mouth like cotton, another stone to sink in her stomach. These are the ones that blend together the most, twisting further with every loop, muddling her perception of which life she’s in. Most come by accident, echoing the way she’s met you before. A bump in the hallway, papers scattering, both crouching down to pick everything up. Sudden rainfall making you scramble to share an umbrella, going back and forth between who gets most of the cover. Teaming up to take down the reigning asshole at whatever drinking game the campus is currently obsessed with.

“You look familiar- have we met before?” You’ll ask, once in a blue moon of a loop, except this time it’s more than reuniting with a childhood friend. This time it’s reaching out to pluck the heartstrings of your soulmate. One of your soulmates, that is. Mia’s response only ever comes with unearned confidence, mirth dancing on her tongue, deflecting, deflecting, denying- a hint of flirting, maybe, when she can afford it. Getting you to blush had been a favorite pastime of hers, once, twice, many times. Even if it never extended into anything more official than sharing a bed.

Seeing you at parties makes her feel like so little has changed. Always the same drink of choice, always too readily egged on by friends. If she squinted, it would be easy to put herself in Daniela’s place at your side, and so Mia never lets her gaze linger for too long. When the cups get too deep for you, it’s far too easy to stop herself from intervening. She never did before. Even when she should have. Those are the timelines where Angie does more for you than Mia’s past self could ever dream of.

It almost makes up for the time she finds your body crumpled in front of the doll’s car, crimson splashed across the bumper. She stares, only for a moment, wondering when she stopped feeling anything at the sight of your corpse. Then she catches a glimpse of three familiar fanatics in the crowd, makes note of the way their horror differs from those around them. Figures their attempts at keeping you out of the spotlight would go too far, eventually. Figures that the real nostalgia greets her fingers as they wrap around the handle of her knife. Revenge was an old friend- just one rarely visited these days.

Hard for her to thrive on revenge when she’s got the bloodiest hands of them all. Strange how the feelings shifted over time, guilt warping into freeing comfort. The first time she killed you, the first time she brought on a new loop across a knife’s edge, she almost threw up. Stared at the deep cuts and lost herself in the memory of finding Miranda cradling your lifeless body, the end of your past incarnation. It made her stomach churn, made her heart drop, and fully solidified her need to make sure the loop would meet a perfect end (the only way to guarantee you’d never meet that fate again).

By now, the blood flows freely, remorse a trinket left forgotten on dusty shelves. It’s for the best. Better her than someone else, better for her to soak your bond in blood than to let it rot in the open. Ending the loop fills her with relief, with joy, as she invokes her promise to give you not just a happy ending, but the right one. She loses track of how many times she’s knocked you down or out, how many loops she’s filled with blood, how many times she’s allowed you the comfort of bleeding out in her arms.

Ironic, then, that you never accuse her of murdering you, only someone far less important. More ironic yet that the finger of blame forces her to recall the life that bound your souls together. But that memory doesn’t perfectly layer over the present, when she’s not burning by your side, dying with your name on her lips. The way you look at her almost makes her miss the flames (the next moment she focuses on has your hands touch in passing, knuckles brushing up against each other, and she feels an entirely different kind of fire).

There are times where she wonders how much you remember. Not consciously, not truly, but which memories are etched into your soul itself. Now those are the moments that test her resolve, that tempt her to chain herself to pursuing the past the same way that Miranda does. All it takes to make her heart stop is for you to tilt your head to the side, eyes not quite narrowed, a sly smile paired with a twinkle in your eye. Something about that expression always lets her know you’re on the verge of remembering something. Half of the time you’ll follow it up with a carefully worded question, never sure if Mia feels the same deja vu that you do.

Your timing isn’t always perfect; she can’t blame you, not with the way her memories layer over each other, fighting to see which controls her present.

One hand in her pocket, clutching her switchblade, the other placed gently on your shoulder. Now that the election is over (again. how many times have you won? why do you never walk away, even when Bela begs you?), she needs to remove you. But your eyes light up as soon as she touches you. Head tilt? Check. Sly smile? Check. You should be scared by the way she’s looking at you, by the way she has you cornered on the balcony, but somehow your mind has skipped past the familiar danger and right into the familiar flirting. Aren’t you supposed to be in love with Bela this time around?

“Care to dance?” You ask, offering your hand. How long has it been since the two of you danced?... Not since Miranda refused to go with you, a lifetime or two or five ago, long before the loop. Mia had been the one to ask you then. Her expression now must mirror what yours had been that day. Surprise, amusement, and adoration. Of course she agrees.

By the time Bela interrupts, the way she does in too many loops, Mia is grateful. It had been hard enough to avoid kissing you in that past life, it was almost impossible now. Still, the Dimitrescu stands frozen for a moment, her own layered memories not finding any match for the sight. She’s supposed to be tackling Mia, knocking her off the balcony, body breaking in the bushes below. Neither of them move, trying to calculate a route to familiar endings.

Mia misjudges her decision, ruins the feelings, guarantees that you’ll harbor a hesitance to dance with her for all loops and lives to follow. She holds your hand, she holds her knife. She holds your hand, she takes your life. For once, Bela is the one who’s two steps behind, her shove coming too late, even if it still carries Mia off of the ledge.

Death never takes either of you for terribly long. Miranda pulls back the fog of limbo, breaks the rules, makes the void spit you both back out, resetting the loop. One wakes up with memories of everything, the other with only impressions. Lingering pieces of nineteen strange dreams, and a hundred futures cycling over one another with interlocking grooves, the only set pattern being love and love and wretched, bloody love. Mia doesn’t chase the nostalgia, doesn’t seek out the ways she knows will lead to love, to the familiar warmth of your heart next to hers. Why would she? All roads lead back to you.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part seven

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: guyssss omg this part AHHHHH

series masterlist // playlist

After your interview, Coriolanus insisted on being discharged so he could go home. If rest was all he required, he could do that at home, is what he told the nurses.

As soon as Tigris had gotten him home and retired to bed herself, he was quietly getting dressed again. If the arena was still going to be used even after the bombing, he had to see what that would mean for you. It couldn't have been rebuilt in a matter of days, and having an idea of what it would look like could possibly give you an advantage that you so desperately needed. The donations were a good start, but he could do more. He had to do more.

He walked all the way there and then to you with a bag on his shoulder and a knee that never seemed to stop aching. He could feel every step he took in his spine, and by the time he made it to the zoo, he was relieved that he could finally take a break. And finally, he could see you.

"Y/N?" You think you're hallucinating from hunger and paranoia when you hear his voice, making you sit up. "Y/N. It's me. Come here." Coryo's voice comes again, and you're quickly standing and making your way over to the bars.

"Coryo." You smile, wishing you could hug him. You still weren't totally sure if he was really there, or if you were slowly losing your grasp on reality. "What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you." He whispers, not hesitating to reach through the bars and grab your hand.

"But, Sejanus said-"

"I got them to discharge me after the interview. All I can do is sleep it off now anyway." He says, lifting your arm to get a closer look at the stitches. It's not like he could do anything to help it now, but he still wanted to make sure it wasn't getting infected.

You let him, and from the warmth in his hands as he touches you, ever so gently feeling the outside of your cut and grasping your hand, you can tell that he's real. "I thought I'd never see you again." You whisper.

"Likewise." He replies, lowering your arm but not letting go of your hand. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

"No." You say softly, giving a slight shake of your head. "It's nothing in comparison to what's to come. I'm trying to appreciate what I have."

Coryo is sure that is the nicest and saddest way anyone in the history of the world has ever confessed to being in pain. "You'll be okay." He assures you. "I won't let anything happen to you. I can't. You saved me."

"His nature is too noble for the world: He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, Or Jove for's power to thunder." You say quietly, a small smile forming on your lips.

"Romeo and Juliet?"

"Coriolanus." You correct him, squeezing his hand where it's still wrapped around yours. "But, I have a confession to make."

"What is it?"

"Now, when I try and remember parts of Coriolanus, all I can truly think about is you." It's true. You tried to remember something from that play for your monologue, to say goodbye and thank him in a way he would easier understand, but instead, all you could think of were his blonde curls against his striking red uniform and his blue eyes against the softness of his skin. For the first time, your mind was empty.

He blushes, but he's sure you can't see it in the poor lighting of the cold night. "Well, your name has only ever meant one thing to me."

"Which is?"

"It's only ever been you."

You don't even realize he's as close as he is until you can feel his breath brushing over your skin, both of you having leaned in closer to hear each other until your foreheads were almost touching.

The cold that surrounded you completely disappeared as your eyes fell shut, lips hardly brushing against his. You both hesitated, at first.

Being stuck in that hospital bed for days only fueled the fire inside Coryo that was slowly burning and churning out smoke that would always led his mind straight back to you. He didn't care if you were 'District', how could he? You were made for him- and you proved that when you chose to save his life over saving yourself from a fate so horrible as a death in The Hunger Games. You weren't 'District'; You were You, and he simmered in the guilt of his rejection of you for days after he had done it. His dishonesty with himself had wasted precious days he could have spent with you, or at least you could have known. Right now, he could have been kissing you for the second, third or fourth time, but now he has to live with the fact that it's possible he'll only ever get to feel your lips on his just once.

Your first kiss wasn't what you imagined it to be. Not at all. You expected that you'd be home, for one, but if you could go back and tell your younger self that you would find your very own Romeo in a blonde boy from the Capitol, she would have laughed in your face. The circumstances would have broken her heart just like they are for you right now. He was gentle, too gentle for the role he was given.

When Coryo pulls away, he's startled to see your cheeks glistening with fallen tears, eyes red once you reopen them. God, how he hates seeing you cry. Especially because of him. Especially if he had hurt you, somehow. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No." You sniff, wiping your cheek on your wrist as you look away. Maybe he doesn't mind seeing you cry as long as you're still looking at him. "It's not your fault I just... I don't know. I'm scared."

You feel annoying for telling him again. He knows. Of course he knows, you've told him so many times.

"I know... I know you are." He nods, reaching out and holding your cheek, urging you to look at him again. "But you're going to be okay."

"I'm not." You smile sadly. "Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me; the carriage held but just ourselves and immortality."

Coryo just slightly shakes his head. "No." He denies the inevitability of your death vehemently. "Listen, I went to the arena. It's completely different in there. There are places to hide, to run, you could get up in the stands or down into the tunnels underneath. You can hide now and wait it out. You can do it."

"I... I'll try." You manage to squeak out, no longer wanting to cry in front of him, making him feel worse than he does.

Coryo nods, looking around behind you to double-check check none of the other tributes are awake. "I brought you some things that may help." He whispers, dropping his hand from your cheek to dig through his bag.

He pulls out a rolled-up scarf, it's hard to discern the colour in the dark as he holds it out to you. "Coryo, I can't take anything in. You know that."

"Please." He pleads. "I need you to take this. It can kind of keep you warm, or you could..." He trails off, watching as you unroll the silk fabric in your hands.

"I can't kill anyone." You remind him. "I won't do it."

"I know. I know that." He nods. "But everyone does things they aren't proud of to survive."

You chew on your lip as you rub the soft material between your fingers.

"Turn around." He tells you, holding his hands out for you to give it back. You hesitate before obeying, handing it back to him and facing the inside of the cage. "You can't carry it in, but I think if you wear it no one will notice." He whispers, gently pushing the strap of your dress down one of your shoulders.

You understand what he's trying to do, so you do the same thing on the other side and pull your arms out, letting the top half of your dress fall down around your waist.

Coryo's breath hitches in his throat as he stares at your bare back. Your skin was bruised and adorned a burn that looked like it came from being thrown across the ground. Your skin was supposed to be clear, untouched, and unharmed, but the state of it doesn't surprise him. He reaches around you, threading the unfolded material under your arms and across your front which you quickly adjust to cover your chest comfortably as he folds it over itself in the back. "Turn." He whispers, planting the softest of kisses on your shoulder as it bumps against the bars. He wanted to touch you, to drag his fingers across your skin and cherish the only time he would ever get to see you so bare, but he couldn't and he knew that.

You shiver from the warm touch, but make a point of turning quickly as he wraps it around you again, and it's just long enough to tie in the front. He helps you, though you could do it yourself, tying it tight and tucking the knot underneath the layered fabric to disguise it better. "Do whatever you need to with it." He tells you again, letting his hands slide over the material where it wraps around your waist.

You nod slightly, looking down at the scarf now tied around you. You felt safer in it already, less exposed. It felt like a hug. His hands slide up until they're pressed against your cheeks once more, and as he looks into your eyes he's hoping you understand how much he needs you to win.

You pull your dress back on, and it perfectly covers the scarf underneath.

"I have one more thing." He adds, reaching back into his bag and pulling out a small, silver compact.

You take it, turning it over in your palm. "Don't open it." He tells you quickly. "Don't open it until you have to. The powder inside is so deadly it'll kill you if you so much as breathe it in. Be careful."

You're quickly trying to hand it back to him, shaking your head. "Coryo, I told you-"

He pushes your hand back, but holds it in his. "I know. Don't use it if you don't want to. But I need you to understand that I will just be sick if I send you in defenseless. I can't let you die knowing I could have done more to help. I would do anything."

You nod, solemnly accepting that you have to take it. "I can't go in there with you, but I will do everything I can from out here. I promise. I'm not giving up on you." He insists. "They'll give me a computer, and I can send you things with the donations people send, and we have tons. Just like I told you. You won't starve. You just have to wait it out."

"Wait it out." You mumble back to yourself, still nodding as you look down at the cold metal compact held in your palm.

"I'll be watching you the entire time. We're in this together, okay? I'll be with you, you won't be alone." He gives you a small, weak smile.

"Okay." You whisper, tears still steadily falling from your eyes. "And then I can go home?" You ask quietly. You knew the answer, of course, but you desperately needed the reassurance.

"Then you can go home." Coryo confirms, squeezing your hands. "And see the stars, and your family, and your cat, and your books." He whispers.

"And you?" You ask, tilting your head at him, smiling with teary eyes.

"I'll come say goodbye." He nods, and your smile fades. Of course you couldn't stay together, but you hadn't even considered life after the games until this moment.

"Yes. Goodbye." Your smile fades into a more sad one.

"But I'll write to you." He promises.

"And I can send you books." Your normal smile returns and he nods.

"I would love that."

"That reminds me-" You tuck the compact into your pocket, dropping his hands and holding up a finger, telling him to wait while you walk away.

You carefully pull the small blanket from Jessup's sleeping form and grab the tattered copy of Romeo and Juliet, bringing it back to him "Here. Take these now, I just wanted to make sure they got back to you."

"Thank you." He nods, taking them back from you. He wasn't sure how he'd get them back otherwise, but he wasn't sure he really cared.

"Will you read it?" You ask, pointing to the book.

"I will. I'm looking forward to it." He smiles, tucking it under his arm. "I have to go, I'm sorry..." He says, realizing that you both needed as good of a night's sleep as you can possibly get. He was sure he wouldn't be sleeping much as it was.

"Of course. Go home, it's cold out." You nod, arms wrapped around yourself and suddenly he feels guilty for taking the blanket. There it was again, that selflessness. You had endless amounts of it- he was still worried you would do something stupid in the games like sacrifice yourself for Jessup, but only time would tell.

"Hey, take my advice, okay? We're a team." He reminds you and you nod. "Don't trust anyone once that bell rings. I mean it."

"Okay, Coryo. I trust you." You agree, wanting him to understand that you really would try your best to listen.

"Good." He nods, turning to look behind him, at the path he was about to take home. He was hesitating and you could tell, he didn't want to say goodbye, so you would.

"Good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." You hum, a knowing smile on your face that he wouldn't fully understand, but you didn't need him to. It was a goodbye, that much he understood.

"Goodnight." He whispers, running his hand down the skin of your arm one last time before leaving. He couldn't stay forever, even though he wished he could.

When he got home and into bed, he couldn't resist opening the book that you had cradled in your hands just an hour earlier. He flipped through the pages under the glowing, warm light from his lamp, and the pit of sadness in his stomach only grew when he opened to where you had kept a bookmark. The rose he gave you, pressed and dried between the pages to save your spot.

He lifts the rose carefully, his eyes drawn to the words underneath. "But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun."