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kamaluhkhan · 1 year ago

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

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

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

word count: 8.5k

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

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

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

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

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

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.

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

“the shitty mattress?”

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

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

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

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

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

“someone stole my candy.”

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

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

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

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

“what? n-no!”

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

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

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

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

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

it just didn't seem fair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

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

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

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

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

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

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

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

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

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

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

“yeah. exactly.”

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

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

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

“she deserved more.”

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

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

we all do.

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

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

“slow down, tiger.”

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

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

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

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

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

luke bristled at your nickname for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“your nose.”

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

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

“you don’t have to —”

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

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

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

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

he couldn’t argue with that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.”

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

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

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

“you won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

how many heroes could claim that?

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

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

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

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

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

“i promise.”

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

the nightmares were getting worse.

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

“luke.��

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

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

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

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

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

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

what a fucking joke.

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

again: a fucking joke.

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

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

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

most of all, you cared about luke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but, at what cost?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

in fact, luke loved that about you.

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

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

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

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

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

“about percy?”

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

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

you finally turned to luke and glared at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.

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

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

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

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

“hey. are we okay?”

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

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

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

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

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

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

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

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

everything was falling into place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“no. i’m good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated.

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

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

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

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated.

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

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

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

did you know?

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

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

would you hate him, if you knew?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“wait.”

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

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

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

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

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

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

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

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

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

“i don’t have much time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

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

“it’s not delusional—”

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

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

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

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

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

luke just needed to convince you.

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

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

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

“you don’t mean that.”

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

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

a turquoise trident.

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

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

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

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

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

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critterbitter · 1 year ago

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It’s everybody’s favorite lantern! Ingo's partner pokemon's very chaos incorporated. Inspired by the very enthusiastic asks in my inbox, which I’ll be responding to under this cut ;0 Wanna see more? Check out this submas masterlist.

@euos-the-cat AAA thank you! I took one look at that waxy gremlin and thought "huh. I can do something with this."

@eventhetiniestbugs Yo. YO. HEADCANNON ACCEPTED. Litwick really is sort of a beatrice, isn't she? Being Ingo (and in part, Emmet's) unwilling guide. Reluctant friend. Best found family.

@answrs Thanks!!! I love sneasler and I need to draw her more. It wasn't on purpose, but it seems I've accidentally wrote myself into a Sort Of chronological posting (oops!) But sneasler WILL appear later (hopefully BEFORE my hyperfixation fizzles out haha)

@raynavan AhHEhEHEHEH. I usually don't dabble with too much angst, but yeah. On the plus side, uh, more chandelure emmet interactions! On the down side, well.

@blueisquitetired You learn to like rice. It's a staple in your diet, and while you may think its bland and boring, it becomes something you can always rely on during meal time when things get dicey. Or, well. It was.

@moothebloo ...DEFINITELY SAVING THAT FOR LATER. CHANDELURE ANGRY SHARPIE BROWS LETS GOO. (Idk if you're into rottmnt, but uh that's some donnie behaviors that I definitely approve of.)

@gender-nuteral-nut-boy First of all, amazing user name. you get all the gender. second of all (points at picture) she's doing finnee! She's doing So Great. Don't Worry About It. ((She has emmet, and later the gear station, and even later maybe even elesa. But Ingo's Hers, and that's a wound that can't be easily staunched.)) @ghostlykryptonitenight Ah,, you see, your first mistake is thinking she'll Remember. : )

Head cannon: ghost pokemon are not a direct reincarnation of a dead soul, and are more like… say, the mold that grows from a coffee mug left out for too long. But they have fragments of memories and dreams of cherished ones. Chandelure knows Ingo’s alive thanks to their bond. She vaguely knows her propagator probably knew Ingo’s identical great uncle or something. But those pieces don’t really connect until Emmet’s research, and she’s tired and faded and the simple act of trying hurts.

(She would leap through space and time for ingo. Chandelure and Emmet would do anything to get their muppet back, even if it means to salt the earth and unearth gods.)

#art #pokemon #myart #sketchbook #chandelure #lampent #litwick #angry night light #ask #mailbox #haha gottem #ghost pokemon are weird #look im a fan of the carrot but sometimes to REALLY get your point across you got to get out a stick #anyways giving the sentient light fixture emotions is my best bit yet #submas

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crimsonmochi · 1 month ago

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Personal ― S. Gojo

Synopsis. Pornstar!Satoru is used to fucking for money's sake. It's something he does often and something he does really fucking well. When he is requested to guest you, however, it shocks everyone to see an immediate energy shift.

Pairing. Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Content. MDNI, fem! pornstar! reader, chubby! reader implied, gender neutral pronouns used for reader, no use of "y/n", smut, p in v, cunnilingus, slight choking, some semblance of onlyfans, pussydrunk! gojo, gojo is left handed canon, a little bit pathetic, and a little nasty, probable breaches of work boundaries, no beta

Word Count. 3.9k

Parts. one | two

A/N. baby's first jjk fic, be gentle </3 please give me feedback and lmk if i forgot some tags :3 reposts encouraged!

Rain dribbled and splattered on the window, the tiny water beads reflecting and refracting the dim light from Satoru's phone. He sat upright on his bed, muscular back against the headboard, upper arms aching from his last session two days prior. He had reluctantly agreed to participate in a "professional"―which, to Satoru, was just a word for more work, smaller pay―shoot with some girl he could barely remember the name of.

The result? The director had barked at him to put himself in impossible positions for the camera's sake, which left his limbs sore and not in a good way. Satoru forced the scene to end, left with his money and a vow to himself to never ever work for studios again. He hated being told what to do, especially from guys who don't actually have what it takes.

While painkillers and a nice massage from the spa below his apartment complex did not eradicate the pain, it did make it much more tolerable.

Satoru's thumb swiped across the screen, scrolling through comments from his latest post, a message to his subscribers asking for content ideas. Sure, he did not like being told what to do, but being kindly suggested by his fans to fulfill their desires was different. In the end, he was still in control.

And it probably won't land him in a pharmacy either.

The request that Satoru found came up the most was for him to do ASMR; some fans wanted to hear those pretty praises, those filthy words he gives to his co-stars, spoken to them instead. Although the idea was alluring, Satoru would rather be on camera than behind a fancy microphone in a recording booth—primarily because he was too proud to opt out of showing his god-crafted body (that cocky bastard). But then again, he could find a way to do both...

He shelved that idea for later.

Other requests were suggestions of people to shoot with. Some popular names came up, women and men he had already filmed with and didn't find too interesting. He could fake it, of course; he was an actor, it was half of his job―but he would be unsatisfied with the end result.

Satoru was about to quit reading requests, bored and uninspired until his cerulean eyes stuck themselves to a particular comment. The space between his eyebrows creased as his eyebrows furrowed. It was a subscriber recommending another star, explaining how they weren't very well known, but they believed them and Satoru would make a great pair.

The wording was not what caught his attention, he had gotten plenty of requests with the same exact sentence before. No, it was the name, your page's name―which, to Satoru, felt familiar yet distant. He hadn't shot with you before, no, that wasn't it. Yet he was certain he knew you, knew of you at least.

His thumb reached for the search bar to type in your alias, his eyelids flickering when his gaze fell on your profile, your soft face on display. Satoru felt his length chub up in his boxers, soft lips parting to accommodate for a sudden need of oxygen.

Just as his subscriber said, you were less popular than him, with less than half the number of subscribers he had and an inarguably cheaper paywall in front of your content. Memories of happily searching for his new credit card numbers to pay for your videos came back rushing to him, memories only a few months old.

Satoru recalled seeing a preview and being immediately smitten by your pretty figure, your plush thighs and your tummy, that tiny thrill in your eyes. Fuck, how he had spent half of his revenue giving you tips on an anonymous account―just to obtain a personalized picture of just those pretty thighs, fisting his aching cock to that image for days.

Just looking at that profile again, oh my god.

His eyes laid on the subscription button. He did not even bother getting on an alt account this time to press it, watching the confirmation request pop up on his screen to gather his fingerprint in order to complete the purchase. When the paywall finally went away, Satoru let out a breath he wasn't even aware of holding, his hand travelling to his boxers, palming himself through his briefs as he scrolled.

And oh, he was gone again.

Satoru had never sent a message to his agent that frantically in his life, asking her―no, begging her to contact you to secure a shoot with you. Asked her to do whatever she could to get you in the studio.

The next few days went by without a reply from your part, and Satoru was going mad. He could not remember being this nervous for anyone, this needy. In between sessions of overthinking (maybe he should have asked you himself or maybe offered something more), he found himself replaying videos of yours he had already seen, notably the ones with other men. He knew them by heart.

Those guys didn't seem to appreciate you nearly as much as you needed, as much as you deserved. It pissed him off beyond what he thought was possible, yet made him so hard; He knew he could fuck you so much better than those amateurs you were with, pleasure you in ways they wouldn't even dare.

Unbeknownst to Satoru, you were just intimidated by his offer. Too much money from too big of a creator and an offer that seemed too good to be real to not hold a catch, which is why you did not answer right away, anxiously weighing the implications. It wasn't until he, in a moment of pure desperation and haze, shot you a private message confirming the offer that you replied, shyly agreeing.

From then on, Satoru could barely contain himself, daydreaming about everything he could do to you with his left hand eagerly moving up and down his cock, breathy exhales escaping his mouth and shaky fists gripping his bedsheets. Too often, he found himself checking the calendar on his phone, awaiting the shoot date, disappointed every time that it was still the 15th instead of the long-awaited 21st. Satoru Gojo did not exactly believe himself to be a patient man.

He sent you little messages throughout the week with ideas and reassuring messages. He wanted to know everything about you, your likes and dislikes, what you thought of him, how your body worked, and how he could get you to whine and moan for him.

On the day of the shoot, Satoru was almost unrecognizable to others involved―his agent and the friends he'd stopped to visit on his way to his studio. The man people had described as cocky, overly confident, and self-absorbed was reduced to a nervous, lost-in-thought mess. All because of you, the pretty little thing he would get to have his hands on later that evening.

He'd showered three times, spent too long in his room figuring out what clothes to wear, as if that would matter, and freaked out over his hair. His hair.

And when you finally arrived at the studio with your assistant, he nearly forgot how to breathe. That, or he was purposely holding back for fear of scaring you off, this cute little thing before him. You introduced yourself, pretty eyes gazing up at him, taking a second to admire each and every one of his features. As soon as he saw your smile, here in person, he told himself he could die happy.

Well, he could die happy after having a taste of you.

You were shy while introducing yourself to him. The interaction could easily have been misread as awkwardness, and that was what Satoru would have gone with, too, if he didn't know any better (if he didn't think so highly of himself). Your softer voice, your pretty eyes, god, those eyes. He could tell you might've had a tiny crush on him as well, and he would be lying if he said it didn't make his head reel.

Your assistant all but confirmed it when you excused yourself to the restroom, admitting that you hadn't stopped gushing about this opportunity since you got it.

And when you got back, he had the most annoying smirk and glint in his eyes, looking down at you.

After discussing what he wanted for the scene, making sure you were comfortable and willing to participate―a gentleman, truly, asked you so many times that you started chuckling your answers―he had his agent and your assistant leave the studio after you agreed to dismiss them. He did not mind an audience, but he wanted this to be personal.

"I film all my own shit anyways," he hummed, hopping behind the camera to adjust the angle.

In the film room of the studio was a bedroom set with a queen-sized bed with navy sheets and a wooden frame. A sliding-door closet with mirrors stood tall on the left side, and a bedside table on the right.

The scene you and Satoru agreed upon was vanilla, but he was pleased with the gist of it. Any way he could have you is a way he'd be pleased with, however. It didn't really matter how for the time being.

You sat in the middle of the bed, your back against the cold headboard and palms against the soft sheets, gazing at Satoru as he grumbled at the camera, shifting through the studio to find a new battery with his lips pursed in a pout. It amused you, seeing a different side of him.

It was only three minutes later that he climbed onto the bed, knees against the mattress as he moved towards you, those blue eyes staring at your frame through those pale lashes. He moved to straddle you, his back straight, his body looming over yours.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," mumbled Satoru, his hand firmly landing on the headboard to support himself, making a louder sound than he intended. "You tell me if I'm too much for you, alright, pretty?" he followed in a softer tone.

You nodded, the pad of your index landing on his shoulder and travelling down his torso, trailing close to the sweatpants he wore. Satoru reached his own unoccupied palm to your face, his fingers hooking themselves at the nape of your neck to pull you towards him. His nose brushed against yours before capturing your lips with his.

Satoru had never felt drunk on a kiss until you entered his studio.

As if a switch flipped in his head, he kept you closer to him, desperate and unwilling to pull away from your lips. He breathed shakily, his minty breath fanning over your mouth.

"Oh, you're good at this," he laughed, an arrogant laugh that made your pussy ache.

"Yeah?" you murmured.

"Yeah."

The hand on your cheek moved to your throat, squeezing at the sides―not enough to hurt, just to make oxygen sparse in your system. "I'll make you feel good, sweetheart, hm? I'll do better than those fucking losers on your page."

The sweetest words said oh so cruelly.

Although it was increasingly hard for you to think, you were able to click the pieces together pretty quick, your eyes widening and your pupils dilating.

'Fourth wall break wasn't part of the plan.

Oh.

He watched.'

Satoru's gaze had changed. Deep, yet precise in conveying the exact energy desired. A short, almost inaudible gasp escaped your lips, and fuck, he fed on that, on your reactions to him, no matter how small or insignificant. It mattered to him.

Warm fingers slipped under your the black camisole hugging your body before you could even notice his hand had left your throat, caressing your skin until he his the jackpot, massaging the same breasts he had spent hours looking at only within the past week.

"Oh-ho— nothing, no bra for me?" Satoru chuckled. He captured your nipple between his index and his thumb, rolling and pinching at it until it pebbled, drawing out a whimper from your lungs.

Satoru was fascinated by what he had under his hand, taking a too-curious approach to exploring, as if he had never seen or felt another body before this point in his life. He took his time to gently remove the fabric off of your body, imagining all the ways he could bind and explore it, worship it, cum all over those pretty tits—

It wasn't until he felt your soft hands trying to discard his shirt that he snapped out of his haze, realizing he was fucking up the pacing.

Satoru latched his mouth to one of your breasts, biting and sucking gingerly while he focused on getting you out of those tight leggings you wore just for him, that truly left nothing to the imagination. He frantically worked to get those white laced panties out of the way with a tad more force than he should have, causing a tear to rip into the fabric.

"Satoru—" you gasped, only halfway acting.

"I'll get you another pair," he groaned against your chest, licking over one of the bite marks he had left before unlatching to look down.

Satoru's brain short-circuited.

Sure, he's seen your body time and time over, but that had only ever been through the careful separation of a screen, a paywall. It was different to have access to it, to be able to touch and feel.

He thanked his earlier self for asking if he could eat you out, for now, getting to have your supple thighs around his face and neck. Fuck, he could really die happy now.

Satoru caught sight of your dripping cunt, juices dripping and latching onto your skin. He felt hungry for what seemed to be the first time in his life, moving down your body to kiss right over your mound, your scent filling his senses.

"Oh, s-shit, look at that," said Satoru.

Had he just stuttered?

He nudged his nose in between your folds, brushing against your clit with a swiftness that made your figure jolt. He chuckled, moving his arms to trap your hips and pin them to the mattress, muscles flexing under his skin to intimidate.

"God, she wants me so bad."

Satoru languidly licked up and down your slit, careful to miss your sensitive bud in the meanest way. He whimpered at the taste of you on his tongue, sweet in a natural way, catching both you and himself off guard. If his face wasn't buried in your cunt, you could have seen the faint blush creep to the surface of his cheeks.

"You ever had someone do this, sweet'art?" he mumbled against your heat, lips finally latching on to your clit.

"N-No, not really," you sighed.

"Mh," Satoru hummed disapprovingly, toying with the bundle of nerves between his teeth, one of his arms sneaking away from your hips. He teased his ring finger at your entrance. "You're, fuck- fuck― you're so― taste so good..."

He pushed his finger past the ring of muscle until he was knuckles deep, groaning before he returned his mouth to your clit, sucking in small intervals as he pumped in and out of your velvety walls. Satoru whined when your hand flew to his hair.

And when you moaned for him, he was a goner. He noticed the usually loud and audibly altered sounds had turned saccharine and almost timid.

You had been faking your moans?

He snickered at his realization, breaching through the noise of your moans and the quiet slurps. "I think she loves me," said Satoru in between breaths.

"Wha-, who―"

"Wasn't talking to you, love." Satoru's words drastically contrasted with his soft tone.

He punctuated his sentence by curling his digits to find and abuse that spongey spot, earning a string of nonsense words and whines from you, only encouraging his endeavour. The soft squelch of your pussy around his fingers and his mouth was enough to drive him to buck his hips toward the mattress.

When Satoru felt your soft thighs tighten around his head, he forced himself to pull away, grunting as you desperately moved to grip your fingers in his hair, trying to keep him there. If he hadn't had such strong convictions, he might have stayed down there for the rest of his life, dying happy with his face buried in your pretty cunt.

Satoru straightened his form, his fingers pulling out to find your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. You protested, whining pathetically.

"I know, I know, sweet girl, I'm sorry. Wanna... wanna have you cum on my cock. Can y'do that love? Want you all over me.."

He was mumbling, staring into your eyes with his pupils blown wide. The blue of his irises was overtaken by those black orbs, capturing you in his sight. His chin was wet and dripping, and his lips were slightly swollen.

A gorgeous mess for you to gaze upon.

Satoru's eyes dropped down to the sweatpants he threw on earlier (and called Suguru about just to make sure it looked "casual but not fuckboy"―Suguru called him a dumbass and hung up), carefully bunching up the fabric as well as his boxers before pushing down. Hissing as his length perked up, angry and weeping pre, he breathed a little heavier than before, his shoulders rising and falling. Satoru hadn't felt this worked up in months, maybe years, all from this.

For you.

And you would not be lying saying that had to be the prettiest dick you'd ever seen.

"Shit― look at that, hah," Satoru softly chuckled. "Lift your legs up f'me, pretty, come on.."

He grinned down at you as he helped you push your knees up to your limit, delicately placing your ankles on his shoulders and leaning his torso forward. Satoru placed one of his palms behind your cranium, a small yet protective measure.

"This okay?" asked Satoru, nudging his tip against your folds, collecting your slick to drench his cock, gliding over your clit.

"Y-Yeah, this is fine..."

It was rare for you to be nervous, given that you were used to having sex, filming it, and posting it for hundreds to see. Intercourse was not something you had any insecurities about. Usually.

What caught you off guard was the look in Satoru's eyes, the way he carried himself with a gentleness foreign to anything you've seen from him.

Satoru leaned down to press kisses against your jawline, open-mouthed and delicate, exhaling as he guided his length past your entrance, satisfied at the small gasp he heard from your lips.

"Oh my god, it's even fucking better than I imagined," said Satoru, his voice strained.

He could feel the stretch, your walls fluttering to accommodate him, still so tight and fuck―the tiny high-pitched, almost inaudible whimpers that escaped your throat.

"Don't know if I'll be able to pull out, sweet girl, hah―shit―she's sucking me in, look."

"Then don't," you mumbled, turning your head to meet his lips.

"You can't say shit like that," Satoru scoffed.

"Why not? I want it."

If you were simply pretending for the camera, that was some damn good acting. Good enough to turn Satoru into putty in your hold, to shut his brain off and make him act on instinct alone, script be damned.

Satoru pushed in until his pelvis hit your flesh, his hold on you faltering in strength momentarily, a helpless expression on his face. He listened to your quiet whines, his free hand returning to your clit in hopes of easing the strain.

"Just fuckin' perfect, holy fuuuck―" he strained out.

He withdrew his fingers from your clit to taste you once more, addicted. He drew his hips back slowly, just enough to leave about an inch inside, before thrusting back in at a slightly faster pace, setting a rather slow, intimate rhythm for you to follow.

Satoru watched as your breath picked up, how the slow rock of his hips made your eyes unfocus, and your mouth hang open. He watched as your forehead started to sweat, how your hair moved along his movements.

More importantly, Satoru listened. He heard those moans, shakier and uncalculated. He knew he wasn't crazy earlier when he had the reflection that you had been faking them.

Actually pathetic, those "men" you had been with.

"You're so pretty, y'know that?" Satoru mumbled, out of his mind. Like he was a schoolboy talking to his second-period crush. "So pretty... s'not fair..."

"H-Huh―?"

"S'not fair how it's gonna be―mh, shit―over, how s'gonna be over."

Satoru angled his hips differently, aiming for that spongey spot he had found earlier. That said, he would have had to be able to think straight to get it on the first try; which he could not, not when he was buried deep inside your cunt.

"W-What―aah, fuck, Satoru~"

You couldn't recall any shoots you had done―or any sex you had had at all, actually―that felt as good as Satoru.

"Right there, right? S'that i-it?"

He drove his movements faster, his pelvis hitting the back of your thighs and your ass with a louder SMACK! than it did previously, his breaths becoming further shallow and desperate. His skin grew increasingly damp as his efforts increased, and what were previously grunts turned to shameless moans, whines and whimpers, wanton and needy.

The man was losing his mind, so unlike anything you had seen from him.

Satoru's thrusts soon became erratic and uncoordinated, his face buried in your neck, drinking all of the sounds you were making like he was getting drunk on them.

"Can't... won't last l-long, okay? M'sorry I can't..." Satoru wailed.

His hand found your breast, flicking at your nipple in hopes of making you cum faster, needing to feel you. You were teetering on the edge, and he could feel it, feel how your pussy drew him in.

"Y'know you've been― y'been teasing me for two fuckin' weeks―aah... shitshitshit, so so g-good―two weeks." He paused to groan, pinching your flesh between his index and thumb to elicit a reaction from you. "Can't get enough of you, you're so―and you know it, you fuckin' know it too, I-I know y'do."

"Satoru! So close, please d-don't stop," you yelped, walls constricting around his length.

"Y-Yeah, pretty, I know, fuck―I know, sweet thing. I got you," Satoru panted and tightened his grip on the back of your head as if to brace for impact. "Y'do know how to drive me fuckin' crazy, with―mh, you're so soft and pretty, m-makes me want to quit the business, make you my own, God, make you my pretty wife."

Satoru's mind was running on overdrive, trying to keep up with what the fuck he was saying and making sure you felt good, as good as him. No easy task.

"Shit, gonna make you mine, I promise, fuck―"

His his stuttered as he spilled himself inside you, crying out like a wounded animal. It felt too good, it was too much.

Satoru kept going, although fucked out of his mind, determined to make you cum. He lapped up the sweat from your neck, not caring if it was nasty, while he reached down to your clit once more, slapping the sensitive bud a few times, stopping when he felt your cunt constrict and clench around him, a nice little ring of creamy mixed arousal forming at the base of his cock, gliding down your ass and spilling on the bedsheets.

"Such a mess, oh my God," Satoru whined.

He gathered some on two of his fingers, wiping it right off of your skin. "Taste it f'me, pretty," Satoru groaned.

He could have ascended to heaven right then as you wrapped your lips around his digits, glossy eyes peering up at him through your lashes.

"I gotta keep you."

Parts. one | two

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thehumanwiki · 5 months ago

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hi and welcome to

✨bullshit that has ACTUALLY happened somewhere in the Pokémon franchise✨

-a teenaged boy runs away from home because of his abusive mom only to join a crime gang funded by his abusive mom.

-the player character is given a smartphone by and with direct contact to God.

-a man cosplaying God (the same God you got a phone from) attacks you with a demon banished to another dimension.

-a suicide cult led by an evil snowflake kills like one hundred other protagonists.

-there is an entire elemental typing consisting of abused and evil Pokémon that is super effective against everything else.

-the player falls into an alternate world and one of their friends is immediately arrested for playing sports.

-in the thrilling sequel, a bunch of ghosts kidnap children in their amusement park in the Shadow Realm.

-now that I think about it there are like three different games where the player character starts by falling from the sky.

-the protagonist of the TV adaptation has died like seven times, been crucified in Paris, watched several apocalypses, and has watched SO many people die in front of him, and I don’t think he’s brought it up like, ever.

-in one game, you can go on a crusade to brutally conquer the entire continent.

-the player of one game is part of a time loop caused by a magic turtle that indirectly kills one of their friend’s mother. Or father. Depends on the version.

-the player’s adoptive father is possessed by the personification of hate and sends them directly to Hell, then tries to do it again when they get out.

-the mafia’s plan for getting their boss back after he left is to violently hijack a radio station and ask really nicely.

-a space agency’s plan for stopping a meteor form colliding with the earth is to open a wormhole to another dimension. this plan is stopped by a woman in a torn cape who destroys their equipment and robs them.

-the protagonist’s father had a godlike clone fuse his consciousness with a mouse, and fights a man who fused his own consciousness with an alien.

-the one a cult leader chose to be king of his new religion is an abused autistic boy with green hair and wearing a baseball cap.

-you literally rob people’s Pokémon in one game and you’re still the good guy. …is there a gender neutral version of “good guy?”

And now for a BONUS ROUND!

✨shit that has gone down in the Pokémon manga adaptation alone!✨

-terrorists blow up an ENTIRE port city!

-one protagonist spent two years trapped in a Dream Realm™.

-you think that’s bad? TWO protagonists are trapped in the depths of space for like six months!

-you think THAT’S bad?! FIVE protagonists are turned into stone for an indefinite time period!

-a little orphan girl is hypnotized and trapped in a suit of armor.

-they crucify the gym leaders???

-one boy is whipped in the face with a chain used to subjugate the Gods Of Time And Space and he’s literally fine.

-a father punches his son in the face and hurls him down a staircase. The American translation censors this as a lightning strike.

-this same son fell into the ocean because of an earthquake like five chapters after he was introduced.

-one of the current protagonists is basically Wednesday Addams.

-two protagonists were kidnapped by birds and raised by a supervillain.

-two villains try to destroy the environment of an entire country, cause an apocalypse, and are stopped by being trapped in a flying car which crashes.

-a mysterious supervillain saves them— SOMEHOW— and makes them fight to the death for a suit of armor. The one that survives causes the apocalypse AGAIN but dies.

-they both get brought back from Hell to save the world, and after that’s over, they turn to dust and go back to Hell.

-the supervillain who saved them the first time also summons like ten gods and dips out, never to be seen again.

In other words Pokémon is weird (affectionate).

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justwonder113 · 5 months ago

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Sharing a bed with Lee Know

Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;

My Masterlist

Summary: Feeling beyond frustrated with your boyfriend you leave your phone home and head out to drink your sorrows away, meanwhile he's stuck there losing his mind trying to find you. Warning: CURSING It's me who's surprised there. Angst to fluff. Barely mentioning the sharing bed part but yeah... Reader is gender neutral. Mention of alcohol intake. reader is tipsy but fully conscious. I don't know if I missed anything so please let me know if I did. NOT PROOFREAD

A/N- Glad to announce that I'm alive and well and back with a new laptop so I won't have to break my fingers trying to type on my phone anymore!!! I'll try to update more and more now^^ As for my work, this is the first time I have written something like this and I really hope you'll like it. I tried my best to make it seem as real as possible and I'm really eager to know what you think, so if you have any feedback please tell me what you think. Again thank you for all the love and support you give me, it means the world to me!! Reblogs and comments are highly appeciated^^ Word count- 2.8k

If you like my work you can buy me coffee🩷

Not knowing how to deal with your rampaging emotions you kept pacing back and forth in your apartment like a lunatic. You were at loss for words, never in your life you felt this humiliated and to think that Minho, the person who was supposed to be your safe space and your comfort person was the source of that!

Honestly, you felt torn, you were beyond mad at frustrated at Minho and wanted to rip him a new one, but at the same time you felt so heartbroken and miserable all you wanted to was to crawl in your bed and not get up for at least a week. It also didn’t help at all that your week was an absolute shit, with this said day being the cake on the top. All you wanted to do was to have a lunch with your boyfriend and just forget all the bullshit you had to go through. You knew he had a hectic schedule due to an upcoming comeback. Heck, you barely had seen him for the last maybe three weeks. He was already at practice when you woke up and immediately went to sleep when he came back in the middle of the night so he had barely any time to talk or text to you, you weren’t even talking about seeing you in person. It was what pissed you off the most. You were too considerate, how many people would be able to handle having a relationship like that, when a simple text sent your way made you want to throw fireworks? You knew he was busy, you only wanted to see him for what a half hour, just to eat together? Maybe get a hug? And an encouraging word that you could get through the day? No, what you get for bringing your very busy boyfriend and his bandmates his favorite takeout is to get yelled at in front of the said bandmates to being overly clingy and overbearing.

One part of you wanted to break down sobbing, the other part wanted to bring hell to him and make a biggest scene ever, in reality? You just left, not an ounce of emotion on your face. Maybe it would be better if you did either or those, at least you wouldn’t feel this torn now. So full of emotions feeling like you could burst any scond. No, you knew you were angry and rightfully so, this is why the tears that wouldn’t stop streaming down your face aggravated you even more. He didn’t deserve your tears not after the bullshit he pulled.

Another pang of notification brought you back to reality, God how many massages was he going to send? Who was clingy and overbearing now? If he thought that you would forgive just like that just because he was sorry then he was a damn fool. You knew he didn’t mean it; you knew him long enough to know that whenever he was too stressed he had outbursts like he did earlier and he said stuff he didn’t necessarily mean. It was an objective fact that you didn’t deserve to be called clingy. But it didn’t matter, he humiliated you in front of all these people and that wasn’t something you could easily forgive. Hell, how could you forget such thing? He could have said that he needed space that he was busy, no matter how vulnerable you felt, no matter how much you needed him in that moment you would have understood.

Maybe it was a sign. Your relationship was still considered new, it wouldn’t hurt as much ending things now. Maybe you could even return to being friends again. Another pang of your phone followed by another in less than five seconds, then another.

God, you couldn’t bear it anymore, you needed some air.

Not even considering to take your phone with you you left your apartment. You didn’t exactly know where you were going but it would be better than feeling suffocated in your own house.

***

Probably not the wisest choice because now you were worst kind of drunk in this bar meaning your mind was completely sober but your body seemed disconnected from your mind, everything was spinning and your whole body moved as if in slow motion. God what a beautiful day you couldn’t even drink to forget your own sorrows. Better go home then, or at least head to that direction.

You only managed to pay for the drinks and get outside before you felt so queasy you had to stop and lean on the lamppost. God, you hated that your body wasn’t listening to you.

Also, you were starting to regret not bringing your phone with you. You would have called your friend to pick you up and maybe take you with them or at least order a cab. Also, not really wise to spend most of the money you had in your wallet on drinks. God, you felt like shit.

Oh wow it was already night, and based on how there was barely anyone around it must’ve been quite late too.

You started walking but barely made 10 steps before you had to stop again, it was as if your body had a mind on its own and was refusing to cooperate.

“Baby!” You heard a loud yell and before you even had the time to react you were engulfed biggest hug ever. You almost wrapped your arms around your boyfriend before you remembered you were mad at him. Fortunately for you he almost immediately let go, carefully examining everything, his eyes so full of worry you felt bad for him for a second.

“What are you doing here?” You didn’t even try to hide your displeasure. Minho flinched as if he was physically hit by your words.

“I was searching for you! I was out here wandering in these streets trying to find you for hours! I was about to call the police when I saw you here!” You felt guilty, looking at him. He looked dishelved, hair messy as if he had run his hand through it countless times, he was out of breath as if he had been running, his eyes red and swollen as if he had cried…Was he really running around searching for you?

“Who’s being clingy now? Couldn’t last five minutes without seeing me? Had to search for me all over town? So clingy and overbearing!” You watched as your words hit him like a slap, his face morphed into a pained one. You felt horrible talking to him this way, but part of you was satisfied, wanting him to know just how much words could hurt.

“I’m sorry…” His voice was quite almost inaudible, you knew he meant it but you would be dammed if you forgave him just like that.

“You should be, you were beyond cruel.” Even you were surprised how emotionless you sounded. You would also be fooled if you didn’t know the turmoil that was inside you right at this moment.

He lowered his gaze unable to look you in the eyes. “I know.” Oh great he knows, what a balm to your wound.

“You really hurt me Minho!” There was it, the anger, the hurt, you didn’t have the energy to contain it anymore.

“I know.”

“Oh that fixes everything then! You know! Do you know anything but that sentence? Is that all you have to say?” Silence, you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh bitterly, feeling defeated. “What even are you doing here Minho?”

“You weren’t picking up the phone, your house was empty, neither your friends or your family knew where you were. I had to find you to know that you were safe!” His voice was strained, he looked like he was seconds away from busting in tears.

“I’m safe you can go home now!” You turned around to head home, all these emotions making you feel a bit more sober. You barely made two steps before a hand grabbed your wrist gently halting your movement. His voice desperately calling your name. “Please…”

You couldn’t take this anymore. You turned back to him eyes full of rage burning with unshed tears begging to be let out. “Please what Minho? What do you want me to do? You can’t even tell me normally why you were searching for me. You agree with me that you hurt me yet you’re not even saying you’re sorry, and no I won’t take that halfassed apology or whatever that was. What do you want me to do? It’s like you don’t even know what you want yourself so what do you really expect me to do?”

You watched a tear run down his reddened cheek. It infuriated you how breathtaking he looked right now. Not even the most skilled painter would be able to capture his beauty, not a single camera would be able to capture the full beauty. God, you hated how your heart only sang for him even in this much pain he caused. Here he was watching you in sorrow, in pain, angered by his betrayal while he did nothing just stand there idly looking ethereal, still managing to have you in his chokehold.

“Do you even love me?” No matter how hard you tried to fight it the dam broke. A tear slid down your face, quickly followed by another, then yet another, till it felt like a little stream down your face. You forced yourself to look him in the eyes, the pain and anger burning in them. His eyes also full of pain but you couldn’t read anything more. There were times you thought you could read his emotions… What a fool you were.

Your body started to shake trying to hold violent sobs wanting to break through. No matter how much you were fighting it you were starting to break down as if already knowing the answer. Subtly wrapping your arms around yourself you tried to hold yourself, to prevent breaking down even more. You hated feeling this weak. Hated that you couldn’t control yourself. Hated that you had to break down in front of him like this! To show him your weakness…

It was as if Minho awoke from the trance he was in, in the tenth of the second his arms were gently cradling your face and his lips were connected to yours, giving you probably the most passionate kiss you had ever received.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire. The tears really felt like tiny rivers on your face, no matter how many times Minho tried to gently rub them from your face with his thumbs they just wouldn’t stop coming. The kiss was gentle yet firm, it tasted salty from both your tears (probably mostly yours) but still familiarly sweet. His lips moved against yours in determination, as if to show you his feelings the only way he knew how.

You felt like your body and mind were on overdrive feeling too many emotions at once, not fully knowing how to react. You tried to resist the urge to reciprocate the kiss but you almost immediately folded, almost quite literally because now if not Minho’s hands migrating from your face to your waist you weren’t sure you would be able to be stand. Yor body felt like it was completely shutting down and you felt like you were at his mercy and based on how tightly he held you against his body and how fiercely he was kissing you he wasn’t planning on letting you go any time soon. And he didn’t, he only leaned his head back a little to give you time to catch your breath.

“I’m cruel as you said, and mean and cold and I most definitely don’t deserve such an amazing person as you by my side, I’m not even worthy of your forgiveness! You didn’t deserve to be told you’re clingy or overbearing or some shit like that when you’ve been so supportive, so kind, so patient and loving towards me when we both know I didn’t do shit to earn it.” His broken voice pulled on your heartstrings, no matter how angry you felt it was whole another pain to feel him talk so about himself. Minho lifted your hands and carefully kissed both of them, his hands slightly trembling. He looked you in the eyes, and for a second you were taken aback with the sea, no ocean of emotions in them. “I’m really sorry I hurt your feelings. There’s nothing I can say to justify my actions, but I promise you I never meant any of my words. I’m sorry I’ve been a terrible boyfriend to you but please trust me when I say, I love you with my whole heart, with everything I have and everything I am, please never doubt that.”

You stood like that for a second or two, maybe even a minute, unable to find words to say. You didn’t even now what you were feeling. Everything inside was a mess. Sighing in defeat you held your hand forward, Minho’s confused eyes snapping at them then at you in a second.

“Take me home.”

Minho took your hand without even thinking twice.

***

You knew you said that you felt a bit more sober earlier but that turned out to be a lie because you still felt so queasy getting in your bed felt like climbing the mount Everest and that with Minho’s help, who didn’t once let go of your hand and helped you with every step of your night routine. None of you had said a word since you held in your hand to him. You knew he was nervous based on the slight trembling you felt from time to time as you held his hand but honestly you didn’t know what you were going to say to him.

“I texted everyone that you’re home safe and that you’re going to sleep.” Minho broke the silence, his voice a bit coarse. You looked at him which made him look even more nervous. If not the circumstances you would find his unsureness and even shyness absolutely endearing. “There’s water and painkillers on your bedside table.” A nod from you, you were tired, you felt like you could sleep for a whole day.

You quickly came back to your senses when he let go of your hand. “You should go to sleep now, I will leave you to rest.”

Thankfully you managed to grab his wrist before he could leave. “Where are you going?“ Minho looked taken aback, clearly not expecting you to reach out for him.

“I thought you would want some space.” He sounded defeated.

You groaned as you fell on your bed. “God we really need to work on our communication skills. I promise I will tell you if I ever need space from you, now get in bed. There’s no way I’m letting you out of house on 3 am or whatever time it is, it’s late!”

After a second of silence you opened your eye to check on Minho, to see if he was here and you weren’t talking to yourself like a lunatic. The sight made your breath hitch. He had the softest smile adorning his face as he watched you, his eyes full of love, you had never seen him smiling at you like that.

“Careful or I might think you care for me.” There he was being a little shit you knew and loved, had to ruin a moment. you made sure to groan as loudly and as dramatically as possible.

“Minho I swear to God! Get in bed or I am going to make you sleep on the floor!” You tried to threaten but the smile that broke through your face wasn’t fooling anyone.

Minho didn’t waste a second and almost immediately you were pulled into a hug, your head smushed against his chest which beat wildly as if in joy.

“I could have given you a second to change you know, I think I might have something you can change into…” Minho didn’t let you finish your sentence -“Let me just hold you for a second, please.”

Not wanting to deny him you wrapped your arms around him and held him just as tight. Both of you feeling content being in each other’s arms, finally feeling calm and most importantly safe.

“I love you.” You heard Minho mutter against your skin, he was so still you thought he had fallen asleep. You looked up at him, there was that gaze again, so full of love and tenderness. Not even trying to hide your smile you leaned in and captured his lips in a soft kiss. “I know. I love you too.”

Reblogs and comments are highly appeciated^^

If you like my work you can buy me coffee🩷

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unriding · 4 months ago

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KINKTOBER DAY 3 — CUCKOLDING. Hayato Suo x AFAB! Reader, ft. Sakura Haruka ﾉ In which Sakura doesn’t think he’s ever held his phone in his non-dominant hand… until tonight.

NOTE — This was written with the aim of being as gender neutral as possible, but is still tagged as AFAB just in case. With that being said, here’s my submission for @ficsforgaza’s 2024 Kinktober Collab! Thank you for taking the time to organize this & also thank you to those who sent in requests!

ft. Hayato Suo (top) x AFAB! Reader (bottom) — Established relationship (Sakura x Reader), Sakura lets Suo have reader for a night. Cuckolding, masturbation (Sakura), consen. recording, praise, creampie (mention), light choking + fear play, very heavy overstimulation, mention of cum eating + toys (dildo) ﾉ 1096 wc

Attachment: 1 Video.

Sakura’s brow twitches at the smiling emoji attached just beneath the video. It looks a little bit too happy for his liking— smiles like it can see him squirming through the screen.

He clicks onto the video, now comfortable enough to shift his phone into his left hand so the other can slip underneath the blankets to grab the base of his cock.

It’s much more sensitive than usual— twitches against his palm and he winces. Luckily enough for him, his room is completely silent aside from the sound of his own breathing. It’s a good thing. If anyone was near him and caught a glimpse of what he was about to do, he thinks he might actually die of embarrassment.

The video starts off with a loud rustling before he hears the muffled sound of laughter- a lighthearted chuckle.

It’s the same one he hears on a daily basis, and his cock throbs— this time dripping pre-cum onto his stomach- though he can’t find it in himself to tear his eyes off the screen for even a moment to clean it off.

“…..Eyes on me…. remember?” The microphone just barely picks up the voice, but Sakura can still make out the words. “We went through this earlier, didn’t we?”

The lewd cry that follows makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. It takes him less than one second to recognize it as you— even if he’s never heard you sound so thoroughly ruined before. “Shit,” Sakura grumbles to himself. He’s leaking so much.

If you were with him instead of Suo tonight, would you be licking up the cum that’s spilled onto his stomach? You’ve always had that terrible habit of teasing him with your tongue. Did you learn that from Suo too?

“Oh dear.” Suo’s voice sounds much clearer now. “Let’s try and last a little longer, okay? Sakura will be watching soon, after all.”

He emphasizes ‘Sakura,’ and you instantly respond to the sound of your boyfriend’s name with a whine. “‘S so- sensitive. I c-can’t…Suo..!”

He can understand you even with the way your words come out unsteady from how hard Suo’s fucking you.

Sakura’s cock feels heavy in his hand when he finally starts jerking up and down, trying to listen carefully and match his pace with Suo’s. It’s hard. He’s breathing loudly— almost panting at this point, and you’re not being much quieter either.

“You still have one more in you,” Suo coos. “Give me one more so Sakura can see, okay? Here.”

The two of you finally come into view. Suo adjusts the camera once more before turning back to you, giving you a light slap to your cheek- just enough to snap you out of your daze. “Ready? Let’s give him a good one.”

“O-okay.. I’ll try.”

God, you sound so broken.

You look even worse off. Your arms are covering your eyes, mouth parted open in loud pants, and your body inches further up the bed with each thrust of his hips. Your lips look swollen too.

Suo must not have liked your habit of hiding from him, because he slows down and gives you a low hum. A warning. You tear your arms off your face as soon as you hear it, dazed eyes narrowing in your best attempt to focus and look at him properly.

“Better.” He smiles. “So tell us… does it feel good?”

You nod, and his pace slows again. “No.”

“I taught you better than that, didn’t I? Use your words. Tell Sakura exactly how you feel.” Suo leans down until his earrings tickle your cheek, and you practically shrink underneath his gaze. “Where do you feel it?”

Sakura forgets to breathe when he watches Suo push your thighs up towards your face with a sweet smile, letting him slam deeper inside you— your thighs instinctively jerking and slapping against his own.

“Ah!” Your head falls back against the pillows, and he tilts his head with a content grin. “Oh. Here?”

“M-mhm… there!”

Suo’s eyes darken, and the panic that rises to your face almost makes Sakura cum on the spot. “No! Wait— I meant… ah… I do.. feel it..! Deep. Super deep… ah… it feels so good..”

You seem relieved when he gives you a pleased smile in response. “Mhm. Good. You’re so good.” He rubs his thumb along your jaw, then moves up towards your cheek. “Keep doing that. Keep talking to Sakura when I reward you.

“I’ll make you feel even better if you tell him all the things you want to try with him after tonight.”

His hand moves down to linger over your neck, and your eyes widen. He feels you swallow a nervous gulp underneath his fingers. “Well? Go on.”

It’s cute how your face still burns at the request even in your delirious state. You’re still able to feel embarrassed— the both of them can tell with just one look at you. Though he still has the rest of the night before he gives you back to Sakura. If he’s watching the video now, that means Suo’s job is done and that it went well.

“H-Haru…”

The whimper that leaves his lips at the sound of you calling out to him is pathetic. “Suo… he.. ah— told me to go on all fours. He said.. to keep my face against the mattress— ah! So.. he pushed it down for me. Filled me up with cum… and then he gave me.. this.”

You weakly nod at the dildo beside your head, gasping when you feel Suo’s cock twitch inside you at the mere memory. “Suo said.. to plug it up… keep it all inside.”

“Mhm.” He smiles at you like he’s proud. “And then?”

“S-said to clean it all off with my tongue— and.. and show him my mouth. And then he said— ah.. to do all that with you next, Haru—” he interrupts you with an amused laugh.

“That’s right. Sakura— you’re watching, right?”

“I’ve taught them a lot of things tonight.” He gives you a light squeeze around your throat, and you clench down around his length. “You’re welcome to ask your partner all about them. I’m sure they’d be more than happy to replicate what they learned with me.”

He turns to you.

“Isn’t that right? I just felt you squeeze.” You almost nod— but you catch yourself just in time. “Y-yes.”

“Mhm. It's good to be honest, isn't it? You’re so good. Let’s wrap this up now. We shouldn’t make Sakura wait too long.”

graphics by @ ficsforgaza ; animated line divider by @ cafekitsune

662 notes · View notes

miley1442111 · 11 months ago

Text

criminal minds masterlist :)

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

aaron hotchner

the problem with arguing

you and aaron run into some trouble at home, what happens when you're taken by an unsub?

breaking rules mr.hotchner? (part 2) better than ok

what happens when you and aaron are left after work alone? (and) surely he'll visit you in hospital, right?

unfair unfair part 2

my take on: season 3 episode 20- Lo-fi

i don’t even know you anymore part 1 part2

aaron is there for you after you spencer break up, romance ensues.

motherly instincts

aaron's overbearing mother makes a comment about your postpartum body, he doesn't react well.

slowly

aaron is there for you during the one of the most difficult times of your life.

fix it | fix it together

what happens when you and aaron are arguing and he compares you to haley, and worse, brings up an annulment?

my boy only breaks his favourite toys

based on the song by taylor swift

fresh out the slammer

based on the song by taylor swift

jealous?

you were to supposed keep you relationship a secret, what happens when a certain doctor develops a crush on you?

guilty as sin?

based on the song by taylor swift

no promises

aaron has to save you from an unsub before it's too late.

safe

you are a victim of an unsub and aaron finally has to tell the team something.

office couch

you and aaron spend some time on his office couch… (18+)

nervous night

aaron is there for you when a night with your sister turns sour.

opening night

aaron misses your opening night, he forgot all about it.

insomniac

how aaron helps with your insomnia episodes.

a great start

how you and aaron end up together after a hostage situation

pinky promises

how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out almost 20 years later.

who did this to you?

aaron gets quite the surprise after a mission

telling him

jack can't go to school, so you swoop in and become aaron's hero, he asks two pretty important questions.

drunk confession and the morning after

aaron admits some very cute things when he's drunk.

aaron's admissions last night ended in a proposal in the car. not exactly romantic, but oh well

always

sharing a hotel room forces feelings to the surface.

clingy

aaron acts quite differently with his wife around, which causes eyebrowns to raise and feelings to start getting hurt.

the picture

a late night issue turns into something very nice when your boss that supposedly hates you decides to come clean.

birthday fights & other lies

aaron forgot your birthday which spirals into something much deeper.

you're the cute barista he sees everyday.

shocker

you have some news for your husband.

insecurity

aaron starts to overthink and doesn't realise how it's impacting the relationship.

safe

aaron had to make sure you're safe, can he get to you in time?

birthday break

aaron almost misses your birthday

protective

aaron (literally) fights for you

believe me aaron is there for you during a particularly difficult case. (18+)

videos and violence an unsub capturing you makes for a pretty interesting love confession

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

spencer reid

thank god for dr. spencer reid

spencer saves you from your shitty family

i don't even know you anymore (part 2) i don't even know you anymore

your breakup with a cheating spencer and the aftermath with hotch

you were right

your husband accepts an invitation on your behalf

in sickness and in health

spencer is there for you when your sick, even with the germs

i’d say yes

is spencer asking you out? you'd say yes.

the tortured poets department

based on the song by taylor swift

stalker

spencer's there for you when the unsub is your hometown stalker, who's still obbessed with you

spencer x gender neutral model!reader

headcanons with spencer and a model reader :)

weird facts

you finally meet spencer's friends/team, only thing is, they don't know you exist.

relief

when spencer can't get to you in time, waking up leads to the team finding out about a few things. Like, you're married. And something else...

mutism

how you and spencer met, the first time spencer heard you speak, and a look into your life together

transfer

how your sudden transfer forces certain feelings to the surface

i wanna kiss you on the mouth

both of you are completely unaware of your feelings, but you speak too loudly and your feelings are confessed.

who’s afraid of little old me?

based on the song by taylor swift

saving you

spencer has to save you before it’s too late

hair tie

spencer's hair is getting too long

the fifth kiss

lila archer gets in the way of you and spencer.

you make me happy

spencer acts quite differently around you and it shocks the team

all alone

spencer doesn't want to get hurt, too bad it hurts you in the process

the joys of a workplace relationship

a new addition to the team causes some very strange conversations to be had- and a very embarrassing moment for both spencer, and you.

confession

spencer's birthday was supposed to be fun for him and his girlfriend, what happens when his mentor (his girlfriends father) shows up at his door?

picking

spencer notices one of your issues, and is determined to fix it.

broadway baby

a secret gets out

revealed

derek tricks you both, uh oh

don’t dwell

you and spencer reconcile after a bad case

controlled turns out spencer doesn't hate you...

under pressure endings are bittersweet...

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

derek morgan

friendly fire

you and derek don't get along very well

high maintenance

you're told your high maintenance, you set out to prove it's not true, it goes badly.

my girl

derek is there to wash your insecurities away (tall reader x derek morgan)

take down

you take down an unsub threatening your husband, derek morgan

labour

derek has to do something when you're three days past your due date (18+)

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

series

pride: you, a bau team member are faced with quite the choice when both aaron hotchner and spencer reid are interested in you, but what will happen when a family emergency calls them into action? And which will you choose?

part 1, (in progress)

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

birthday blues: spencer, your boyfriend makes a choice that cuases something in your relationship to break. can he even fix it?

part one part two(in progress)

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

regrets: spencer, your fiancè comes home from prison and an amalgamation of your grief and his causes the collapse of your relationship. Fast forward five years and the question still stands, can he fix it?

part one | part two (in progress)

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

insomniac au: your life with aaron and jack, working with your insomnia

insomniac

treatment plan (part 1) treatment plan (part 2)

aaron oversteps and it starts a fight.

2K notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 1 month ago

Note

Hey Bonny!! I saw you wanted to play a game, so how does this sound for a drabble? Dragon! Yoongi (or Kookie since I know he's your guy) x Fairy! Reader?? Idk if you've written fairies before, but I know you've done dragons! 💜🤍

I have a dragon kook x fairy reader on my patreon as early access, so I'll make this one yoongi!

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

Yoongi

Hidden in the woods

Dragons are rather social creatures- but when a young Dragonblood named Yoongi fails to find a partner while all his friends and family have moved way past those events already, he isolates himself, believing he might just be destined to be a loner. But maybe, he was just impatient.

Tags/Warnings: Dragon hybrid!Yoongi, Fairy!Reader, strangers to ???, reader is described as short oops, SFW

Wordcount: 1.6k (it was supposed to be a Drabble... oops)

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

“You rarely visit these days.”

His mothers words still echo in his mind as he tries to find a new composition on his piano that doesn’t sound like everything he’s already put out. Of course he hasn’t visited- with his brother’s twins constantly around, he’s always reminded of how far ahead everyone around him is, while he’s yet to find his first real love. He’s thirty, for god’s sake- and yet all he has is his house, a stable career as a musician, and a lot on his mind.

All his friends are married. Some have kids, others are busy preparing for the day they’ll have them. He feels out of place.

Yoongi has made peace with the fact that he’ll be the uncle to all of them, the one guy who never really seems to be happy about anything, never has a family of his own. It’s alright.

He sighs, loudly, gripping his hair for a second in frustration. This is stupid- why is he having an artist’s block right now of all times? People are waiting for something new, especially after he’s already taken a break to help his creativity. And yet, it did nothing- except for giving him a little bit more room to breathe and most of all move out of his apartment and into his new house near the woods. It’s nice here- about half an hour away from the bustling neon city he’s used to after years of living there, and also a bit more distance from his family and friends. A newfound excuse for when they ask him once more where he’s been.

The doorbell rings, attracting his attention. He’s not awaiting any guests or packages- who could it be?

Via the camera installed he can see that there’s a person he doesn’t know at the door- you're rather short, but visibly curious, looking around for any signs of life inside his home, and for a short moment, he sees them;

Delicate little slightly translucent wings. Pointy ears, tilted a bit downwards.

A fairy.

As he opens the door, you seem startled for a second or two, taking a step back, before you speak. “Oh, hello!” You greet him. “I was just about to ask- do you have uh.. Jungkook’s number?” You wonder, and he becomes hostile, crossing his arms. “A coworker of mine, Jimin, said you have it. I’m sorry I’m just, you know, showing up here like that-”

The door closes. But despite what he was expecting, you just ring the doorbell again- and again, until he opens.

“Okay, as I was trying to explain before you so rudely interrupted me-” You tease a little, arms now crossed as well as your wings flap around a bit. “-tell him at least that I need his help fixing my washing machine. He broke it and left the crime scene for me to find, and that’s, pardon my language-” You lean in a bit as if you’re about to tell Yoongi something secret, “-pretty crappy behavior.”

Yoongi stares you down for a moment, before he speaks.

“That’s it?” He asks, and you nod. “Why don’t you ask Jimin for Jungkook’s number?” He wonders, not entirely convinced. Jungkook is pretty much a magnet for people no matter what gender, and the worst part about it is that many if not most always try and get to him through Yoongi.

No one’s ever interested in him. Only his friends, or the things he can provide.

“Cause Jimin doesn’t have it either!” You whine, stomping your leg on the ground in agony. “Listen, I don’t know how to fix it and my bathroom smells like a laundromat already, my coffee machine is also broken and my script has been rejected for the third time, I really need some good news. Please?” You ask, and Yoongi contemplates.

“What if I fix it?” He asks, and your eyes begin to sparkle, wings lifting to flutter in excitement. It’s like in this very moment, he can hear the keys of his piano chime, creating a new piece in his mind.

“You can?!” You ask, stepping closer.

“Probably. Where do you even live?” He asks, before you point towards the woods.

“I live in the woods, pretty much. It’s not that far.” You say, and Yoongi sighs, looking back inside his house. It’s not like he’s going to get anything done either way, so who cares? It might take his mind off of things for a moment or two-

So a few hours later, he’s in your house, enjoying some hot coffee from your machine, which he’d fixed as well while he was at it. Well, fixed is a strong word- he pretty much just explained how it properly worked to you. It was working just fine- you just lost the manual and couldn’t figure it out on your own.

“I always thought dragons were scarier.” You say suddenly, opening a pack of cookies to put in the middle of your wooden coffee table. “You’re really nice. Tall, and a bit gloomy looking, but very nice.” You say, sitting down on the couch next to him, legs pulled up towards you.

He’s noticed something glittering all over the small house- like sparkling glitter, but much finer, and barely noticeable. Looking closer to his pants, he notices it there as well- and even after a brush with his hand, it sticks to his fingers now.

“Oh- I’m sorry! It keeps getting everywhere, especially now.. Wait- I have like, a plastic thing-” You hurry, getting up to search for something in a drawer close by your TV. “Ah, there!” You say, giving him the lint-roller. “It’s one designed for fairy dust. I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about that..” You say, but for some odd reason, he declines.

“It’s fine.” He denies. “Doesn’t bother me.” he tells you, and again, you look at him like he’s just told you the earth is flat after all.

but it truly doesn’t bother him. It would, technically, if he was anywhere else. But right now, in this moment, he couldn’t be any more indifferent towards the ‘mess’ you leave sticking to his clothes and skin.

As soon as he’s back home, the sight of your sparkling smile is still in his mind, as his feet almost automatically move towards his piano, where he sits down, and presses a record button to play something new. The melody has been stuck on repeat in his head the entire way back home through the thick snow, like his imagination was finally finding color again.

But it’s different from what he usually creates.

This piece is playful almost, intriguing. It’s a little hesitant, like someone holding back a thought itself just to not indulge too much in a fantasy they’re already creating in their mind. Fluttering notes interrupt these parts however, sneaking in with excitement and curiosity, trying their best to convince the player to let themselves go.

And Yoongi does, as he finishes the piece, and leans back in his chair, recording finished before his phone chimes with a message.

“You left your scarf at my place!” Is what you tell him.

“I’ll get it tomorrow.” He texts you back.

“I could make us dinner?” You question.

He contemplates, finger hovering over the virtual keyboard of his phone, before he begins to write his answer. Fluttering touches of his fingers moving with a hint of excitement, fine fairy dust on the skin of his hands shimmering in the setting sun dipping everything in a golden glow.

“I’d love that.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagines #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagine

381 notes · View notes

sleepy-fiction · 6 months ago

Text

Eleven Weeks.

sebastian solace x gn!reader

syn: Your ex-coworker, Sebastian, suddenly comes back from the dead, completely strange and anew. You go to see him and realize how different he had become since you left urbanshade. Can you accept him as he is now? Will he allow you to?

tags: predator/prey, suggestive but no actual sex, fluff, heavy comfort fic, there are no gendered terms for reader, sebby has an ex-wife (Zaara)

a/n: eleven weeks by vansire was on repeat in my mind as I wrote this! tysmm for the love on my last seb fic, my hearts really gonna burst!! but in this fic seb escaped and is now working w the FBI to build his case. Also to clarify pls this is no diss on zerum

5K WORDS

read part 2

🛋🦈🐍🐋

You remember it.

The soft tan skin, the way his mouth would crinkle up and flash his pearly, straight teeth. You remember the barreling laughter, the prompt scolding. You remember the soggy bags under his eyes, you remember his sullen tears.

You remember it all, because he was human back then.

But now.

Your eyes shake as you stare at him now.

He's large, maybe even ten feet tall now. His large tail takes up almost the entire room; and the "men-in-black" you had to go through just to get to him was proof that this all was real. Sebastian had become something... He became something different.

His skin was no longer beautifully golden, instesd he was now blueish with scales, fins, and tails. He now has three eyes. Three eyed that are no longer those deep and black but abnormally large and blue. And his hands were now three shivering claws, claws that shook intensely, waiting for you to do something - anything.

Say something.

But you took your sweet time inhaling everything about him bit by bit at a time.

Minutes went by of you quietly staring at him, your shoulders tense, your fingers fidgeting together.

Weren't you going to scream?

Weren't you going to cry?

Weren't you going to do anything?

Please do something.

It broke him.

Sebastian abruptly squealed out an intense sob, his large hands covering his lips as he hunched over in shame. The wounded cry came straight from his belly, sounding as if the fiber of his very being was split into twos. He bowed his head more and more, trying his hardest to muffle his sprung cries. You couldn't let him be so alone like this. You, swept up by the bitter sounds, launched yourself forward, grabbing whatever you could reach: the coat sleeve on his smaller arm.

He pawed at his eyes with his large blue claws, and your lip quivered helplessly. He tried to pull away, but it was like the strength in him was gone. The spark, the everything. When you first walked in, he didn't say hello. His face, body, his soul had already lost its vigor. Simply going through the motions.

What should you say?

Your eyes flicker between the ones he covered from you. Your grip on his sleeve grew intense.

You thought he was dead. When the neww broke out of his crimes, you couldn't believe. You couldn't stick around long enough to find out because your contract ended. You couldn't tell anyone back home about anything that happened in Urbanshade at all. You alone had to bear it. Then you heard that a freak accident happened at urbanshade, and everyone died. You were alone.

But God, looking at him, he had gone through it worse. Not just physically.

You swallowed thickly, unable to keep your own tears back. But you smiled. You couldn't help this weird budding joy that sprang up in your chest, fondness that could kill even the sweetest daisies. As morbid as it is to be happy right now, you finally got your buddy back. Your annoying coworker who corrected over your work all the time. He was someone to talk to - someone you could finally console in. Your smile was profoundly big as you gripped onto him.

Sebastian Solace.

You're really back.

Your grip loosened.

"Say something, damn you -" Sebastian couldn't finish his loud, spiteful curses when his eyes finally met your gaze. Your bubbling gaze. You were amiling with glassy eyes, a quiet sort of smile, the kind that makes the air around you taste sweeter. His face twisted in horror, frustration. Why were you smiling? How could you smile at him?

His family couldn't look at him.

His wife.

His own wife shook and trembled, and she cried out in fear of him. Not only that, he had to learn that she and everyone else moved on a go time ago. Worse than that, his sweet wife told him she started a family with another man.

What the fuck was he supposed to do.

He spent all those aching years to break free, hoping for everything to return back - only for it all to be worser out here than in Urbanshade. Back then, at least he had something to hope for, to hold on to.

Here? Nothing.

Mind numbing questions seared through his mind. Why the fuck did he have to suffer like this when he was so badly hurt? Why couldn't she stay loyal? Why did he look this way? Why did they do this to him? Why.

Why is no one accepting him but you?

Why are you being so insufferable.

It made his heart burn. And your soft, secure grip on him made it even hard for him to run away. Did you not want him to leave? His heart is burning with corrupted fondness. He wants you to. To...

To touch him a bit more.

He wants you to look at him a bit more.

He wants you. If you're going to be so kind about it, look at the other weird parts of him with those sweet eyes.

Maybe the more you stare, you'll finally reject him. Confirm to him what the world has taught him. Or.

Or.

Just touch him a bit more.

Don't just stand there.

Don't just--

He suddenly remembers his voice. He croaks out the pitiful plea, "Don't... just. stand. there..."

The voice is commanding and terrifying, and it's proud and angry coming from such a large beast. His he trying to scare you off? If so, it's not working - he'll you barely register his words.

Just the sound of his voice sends your heart fluttering. Sebastian's alive.

You know he's been through so much worse, but.

Is it okay if you are a little selfish right now?

You reach forward, standing high up on your tippy toes to grab his right arm sleeve.

"What the hell are you doing!" He booms.

You pull him into you. He squeaks and cries, "Say something," He yells, loud even to shake your heartbeat. You're much weaker than him, but he falls into your shoulder so easily, like pulling a strayed kitten.

The weight of his head crashes into your shoulder harshly, the feeling a sharp thud, but you balanced it, still on your tippy toes. Your hands slip away from his arms, wrapping themselves tightly around his shoulders. While his neck brushed against your forearms.

"Hey Sebastian," his ears perk up in delight. Your voice whispers dear into his sharp fins, hushed, childishly excited, "Is your heart beating as fast as mine is?"

Yes.

It's beating fast. It's beating so much faster than you know it. His breath exhales with a shivering snap, and he gulps.

You broke him again in an instant.

Sebastian grabs you, all of his hands finding their places on you; your back, your hips, your waist. As he pulls you up high into the air into a deep embrace. You drop all your weight onto him in the hug and nuzzle your nose into his neck. You laugh brazenly. It spikes into the air as your feet swing in the wind.

"Haha! Sebastian! We're so high," You squeaked, holding onto him like some sort of giddy child. Even he can't help but share the giddiness and giggle. You can feel his ears flick against your head.

"And look at you now, you're so big." You tease him, and his face crinkles up in a grin. You pull up to gaze at his face, drumming your fingers against his shoulder. You stare at his face, beaming. Your hands are moving to touch his face, "Three eyed freak," you snicker, "You weren't taller than me before."

His grin bursts onto a beaming smile through his face. "Wow... Wow. Look at you," The tone of his voice is partionizing, enoigh to make you already start laughing. "No class, per usual. I'm not sure as to why I even invited you to see me," he said. His were eyes lidded, his voice freed of any bite. The was hushed and sweet.

Your eyes lidded, too.

He looked sort of...

Handsome, in a way. Right now.

It was weird. Not too shabby for a... mermaid?

You looked away with a gulp. It's just hard not to feel something for someone when they're holding you like this. Like you're some sort of treasure. At least, that's what you told yourself.

"Don't you agree," he purrs. His voice is teasingly delightful. Embarrassment springs up as you back your palms back onto his shoulders. You try to hide your head back onto his shoulder, but he rejects you, pulling you back out to keep you. You swallow. Blood rushes deep to your face, your embarrassed hands playing with the ends of his hair.

"You're flushed," he whispers curtly. You suck in a breath.

"You're holding me like this... Anyone would be," you said.

His third eye twitches.

He grabbed his wife like this, and she screamed. The sound rings deep into his ears. Ah- ex-wife. His face fell bittersweetly, unable to succumb fully to sadness when you're so full of joy.

You're so special.

He smiles brightly again.

Your heart flutters, but it's a weird stutter.

"Ah! Alright, alright, put me down," you yell, beginning to squirm to no avail. "Damn you!" You bang harshly on his shoulders.

"I'm not sure I wanna," he laughed heartily.

"I mean it!" You screech.

🐋🦈🐍🛋

"This your place? The federation hooked you up," you said. When you finally got away, you could finally take a look at his home. It was on a military base, deep underground, behind many iron doors and pass codes. They even gave you a CAT to come on base to schedule visits with him. It took almost about a year to get clearance to see Sebastian.

Did everyone who wanted to see him have to wait this long? Go through so many briefings, sign so many contracts, just to spend 5 alotted hours? You couldn't imagine being him, living like this so alone for so long. Was he just counting down the days until he saw you, just like he did back when you two were teens?

Why did that idea make you feel so content?

"Mmhm. They're spoiling me," he grimaces, and you're pulled from your thoughts.

"What? Don't like feeling like a princess?" you asked.

"It's only because of a case we're building against Urbanshade. That's all." He hums. "I'm not planning on getting used to it."

His home itself and everything within it was large. With high ceiling arches, high doorways with large door handles. Everything is his size, even the chairs and couches. It must've been expensive to make this whole thing. He truly was heavily pampered in here.

"Make us tea," you bark.

"Alright," he said.

You looked back at his tail as he guided you into the kitchen. The slithering thing echoes a low humming sound. It moved so rhytmically, it was so odd. He truly was a snake.

This wasn't your first time seeing him either. In the hundreds of briefings the FBI and the base itself gave you, they got to tell you all about his anatomy, photographs, and health scans. They really wanted you to be comfortable with him, and you can't help but be happy about it. It was hard to fully believe until now. It still was a fresh shock just as the day they tried to make you believe this is what he really looked like now. You wondered if he had met with his family by now. If it went well...

They really took him and his case just as serious as he deserved it to be. These things are typically kept top secret, so maybe they allowed you to see him simply because...

Your think back to his soulless greeting.

Time to step up and be a good friend.

"Hang in there, buddy." You cheer, patting his shoulder with a knowing gaze towards the horizon.

"That's embarrassing," He snips.

Ah.

Typical Sebastian Solace, you comfort him, and he immediately corrects you. You sigh.

You look up at him, finally noticing the way his large little claw was holding your small one. Your face heated again. You look away quickly, gazing throughout his kitchen. Everything was so large, even the counter meets your chin.

"Why don't you go sit on the couch," Sebastian hums. He had a new air around him now, one that was sure and soft. You heard as he shuffled through cabinets the sounds of cups and things clattering around.

"How can I? I have so many questions. Sebastian, how'd you do it? God, you're big now! And, uh... What'd you all day? Was it dangerous?" You asked, your hands finding the whale tail. You stroked your fingers along the scales, stroking it dearly. You felt him shiver, but selfishly, you slid your hands up his dorsal fin and into the beginning of his snake-ish body.

"Well... A lot of it is classified but. I can tell you that I read a lot during my time at Urbanshade," he snickered.

"Well, that's obvious," you muttered as you looked back to his tail, "Hey, is this heavy?" You pressed all your weight against it and then sat down on him.

"Excuse me? What the hell are you doing?" He asks, but the tone is a soft bite. "I'm not a jungle gym," he sighs.

"Yeah, but... Isn't it so cool," you asked.

"So cool?" He grunts.

"A-Ah I'm -"

"No-no. Uh... Hmm... I suppose, after the rage wore off, my body became sort of... Interesting. But still, I'd rather be something a bit more like you... At least... I kind of miss being back shorter than you." He mumbles, sentimental fondness brimming in his voice.

You grin, "Hehe, you used to say a centimeter didn't count."

"It really does now." His tail wraps around you, grabbing you by your hips in a vice. They hold you suspended in the air, your hair hanging down as you face the ground. You squeaked, but he continued, "Come now. Tea's done."

He slithers away with you, not that you care. You giggle and laugh all the way to the couch, suspended in his tail. He plops you down onto the large plush couch and your cheek smush against the cushions in awe. It's so comfortable!

You turn back to him. He laid against the couch long ways, with his tail all perfectly held up by the large couch. All while he rests his elbow against the cushion, peering down at you with relaxed but incredibly intimate eyes. His tea is being held by his mini-hand, and the smoke of it rises to face.

He takes a long, slow sip, his lidded gaze never once breaking from you. You sucked in a harsh breath. He shouldn't look at you like that.

You couldn't help the way your palms got sweaty. The way your heart longed to touch him.

He's so different now. His whale tail pokes your back, almost annoyingly so. You grimance in distaste.

"Hey. Your tea's on the coffee table. Are you even paying attention? Or do you just like looking at me," he says, his voice fluctuating teasingly. But even you took notice of the interest gleaming in his blue orbs.

Your face heats up in both anger and embarrassment, two emotions you've grown incredibly fond of because of him. You "hmph," grabbing your cup and muttering something along the lines of, "you were oogling me too," that falls on authoritarian ears.

But God, you're so aware of his presence that it makes you hard to even take a sip, even though the aroma of chamomile was incredibly fragrant. It has a brilliant color too. Sebastian always had a brilliant eye for tea. "You know," you mumbled as you leaned back against the couch - as well as his tail, "I only started getting into tea after I heard you passed... C-Cause. Cause you'd drink it so much. You always thought you were too posh for us drinking coffee in the morning."

He laughs, a howling sound filled with nostalgia, "Haha! I did, I really did!" He clasped his larger two hands together, rubbing them in an automated smooth motion. Was that a new habit of his?

You couldn't help but beam a joyful smile. "You really haven't changed." You sighed.

An annoyingly dead pant takes his face, but you close to ignore his teasing. It's obvious he's sort of... "new" now. But still damn it! He's the same.

"I- I... You know what I mean."

"Really? Telling the clearly mutated guy th--"

"Shush."

"That you feel--"

"Shut up, god damn you!"

You look away with a huff, turning your whole body to the side to display your protest of his treatment. But he doesn't let you, and his whale tail curls around you. It's big fins redirecting you to face him with a jaunty push. You squeaked, trying to keep your tea from spilling. A ripple goes up his tail, bumping against your body contiously, forcing you to shoot straight up, or else you'll really spill tea all over you.

"What's your deal!" You yell, now on your feet. You don't look at his face, but you can feel the sadistic amusement in his eyes and hear the quiet, humored chuckles mixed into his breath.

"You... You were really thinking about me like that?" He mumbles. "Honoring me in your tea..." He can't spare your gaze, so he flees onto his tea cup.

God, your heart's beating so strongly.

"Of course. Everyone was. Like our section manager, and then Zaara," don't say that name, "your mother, hell even our high-school math teacher... I went by your wife's and mom's homes on occasion- just to see something of you." You mumbled, not noticing the way he tensed at the mention of his wife.

"No one believed you'd do something like that... Even Zaara... She took it hardest out of everyone," You mumbled. He stopped his snakish ripple, but you still took the chance to sit closer to his main, humanoid body, as you sat 2 feet away from it. Still, it felt too far, but you wanted to respect his space.

He looked down at the floor, trying to find something funny to say, but it all failed him.

"Did you hear... About... Zaara?" You whispered, treading softly on sensitive ground.

"Yeah... I heard. She uh... Gave me a picture of her daughter when she... visited me last year," his voice was weak.

"Yeah, little Selena... She's three years old now. Such a big girl," You whispered, staring down at the reflection of yourself in your teacup.

"You know... She couldn't e-even look at me," his voice cracked and groaned out, the sound still like a fresh wound to him.

"Oh god," was all you could manage out. You hunched over to your cup, shutting your eyes deeply. "And your mom?" You whispered, begging for it not to be true.

"It took her a bit, but... She writes me letters. I don't think she can visit me anymore either... It's hard seeing your baby boy so... S-So..." He pauses for a long time before the words finally come out, "C-Changed," he gasps.

Changed.

Change is good.

That's such a selfish thing to say. But.

You'll say it anyways.

"Change can be good. Change can be... H-Handsome," You chuckle, not sure if it was a mixture of your fear, embarrassment, or whatever else.

"You say whatever you want, you know. Don't you care about my feelings? Be gentler, what if you hurt me," his snakish tail pumps you roughly again, direction you to look at him. And you do, but it's filled with a burning, unadulterated fire straight your heart.

You flip your head towards him, leaning in, your hands keeping your tea steady underneath your zeal, "You don't want me to be gentle. Ypu want me to be rough. You want me to treat you like a human, so I will." Your voice is intense. The shiver it produces from him is proof of that.

The silence gives you confidence. You scoot closer, a hand fleeing from your tea to cup the side of his round blue face - he gasps. "You are still incredibly human. And you're still incredibly the same rude, pompous, annoying coworker, Sebastian Solace..." Your words are too intimate, and you know that. Your heart's about to burst, but you know that. You like it, even. You catch yourself, blinking away from him, "T-To me... To me, you're--"

Your face is grabbed harshly, your teacup falls and slips onto the floor, it splatters on your shoes, and it's the first thing you worry about. Not the fact that the new, monstrous frightening Sebastian is pulling you rapidly towards him. Not the fact that four intense claws have you by the face that could crush your entire skull between his palms. Not the face that you were being pulled by your face toward his lips-- No you were worried about wasting his tea, breaking his cup, or if the drink mingles with his carpet.

He pauses right before his lips meet yours, what's the point if within this rapid milisecond, you're not looking at him. He tosses his teacup to the side, the tea within it all gone, and so the clamor of the empty cup finally snaps your eyes towards his, not in fear, but in worry about him- of him.

And so, within the milisecond your eyes meet, He sinks his hands around your tiny body and kisses your lips deeply. You moan and shudder at the feeling, grabbing chunks of his button up, chunks of his collar as you climb greedily into his lap. The feeling of his lips, his mouth, is almost erotically different than kissing a human.

His mouth is colder, bigger, his lips a ragged shape. You'd be lying if the friction didn't send primal shivers down your back. Your human instinct tells you that the mouth of such a large and tenacious predator shouldn't be so near, but God, the friction felt so good.

The shivers were intense, as his pointed teeth poked you carelessly at times. Or when you'd feel the breath from his silt nostrils, the intense feeling of his sharp claws on your body. Primordial fear, nipping at your brain, and you shut it all off, letting the overwhelming situation pool as passionate fire into your suddenly peckish organs below.

Two sensitive people, slurping, lapping, mewling, and huffing into eachothers lips. The sight and sound of it was dirty, sloppy. But you drunk up the sounds of his hungry pants, growls, shivers. Sebastian cracks open his mouth to feed you his gloriously thick and intense tongue.

You slurp it up, welcoming the colder muscle into your hot, moist cavern. The large presence of him inside you is dominating as your fingers twitched against his button-up. He was so needy, was he like you in a way? Unable to get it off since the horrors of Urbanshade? No-- you can't forget. He's gone through it worse, so his need.

You pull back in an anxious shudder. He truly growls then. The sound so animalistic you body gave out, but he held you dear as he pulled you back into the kiss that you know you shouldn't be enjoying so pervertedly.

To him, all of this was your fault.

Saying such pretty words, out of such pretty lips, with such a pleasant voice. Surely, you're aware of how catty you are. Sebastian can't help but think that as he overwhelms your tiny tongue.

He's aware of how beautiful you became over the years. Somethinf he never took noticebto at Urbanshade. He's never been so aware of you. He's aware of you as his arms grab your hips and waist. He's aware of you as his right arm trails up your back to cup your tiny little head. He's aware that your head didn't used to be tiny before his transformation, but he's also aware of how good it is to have so much control over you.

To him, you were being so demanding and selfish and bratty this entire time. His predatory desire to bite you grows as you part for a breath. Sweat beads begin to bubble up on your forehead as you pant at the space between your lips. "Sebastian..." You mewl, he grips your hair and tilts your head back to flash your tantalizing neck muscles.

"You know," he says comanding, "I'm not that same little teen you met when transferred into our school year," you giggled at his words, but he continued, "I'm a man. I'm not only a man. I'm not that same man you went to Urbanshade with - I've evolved. I'm a beast, too. And we beasts have our desires." He growls a bit, the trilling sound mingles with his breath against your revealed neck. You whimper.

"And your breath, your... loud little heart beat. Your lips... Your voice... Your size... It provokes me to sink my teeth in and tear your neck open." He hushes dangerously. God his flirts were getting to you.

"T-The feds are right outside Sebastian," you mewl. "Think you can take them?" You whisper, drawing your hand up and tucking his hair away from his blue-ish face. It's then that you really register how mermaid-ish he had become. You cupped his face again, drawing circles under his under eyes, smoothing out the feeling beneath your thumb pad.

He was cold to the touch, his nose now two little slits. His eyes big big blue orbs, that trailing light bub attached to his head like an angular fish. You had to ask, you couldn't hold it back anymore, not in this moment.

"What are you," you whispered. "I know I read your briefing, but still... How'd they..." You grip chunks of his cheeks.

"I'm uh..." His grip droops as he awkwardly looked to the left. "You want to know now?" He quirks.

"Huh oh uh... I mean. I kinda wanna know." You stutter.

"Well? I-I guess. A little bit of everything. Angular fish, sea snake, whale, shark..." he looked away.

You rose up in his lap, pulling his attention back on you. "That's so p--"

"Are you going to keep killing the mood or... Do you just not want me to fuck you?" He suddenly smirks, and you gasp in horror. He pulls you close to him, purring in your ears, "What? Scared you won't be able to take all of it..." Sultry and slow, teasing.

"W-What... What did... What does that mean..." You don't want to entertain the idea, the possibility.

But his angular mouth creaks open to an even more dangerous grin.

One of his large claws flashes in your face, as he puts two large fingers on your belly button. He presses them there.

You legs almost give out. "Huh?" You stutter.

He looks at you, unwavering, he presses his two fingers against you rougher.

"To here?" You mumble.

"Two what?" He giggles.

"Two- To? Here... O-Oh god."

🐍🐋🦈🛋

read part 2?

#roblox sebastian solace #sebastian pressure #sebastian x you #sebastian x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace x reader #roblox pressure #pressure roblox #pressure #sebastian solace #sebastian solace roblox #urbanshade

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everand1r · 4 months ago

Text

Yeah he’s my boyfriend, he just doesn’t know it yet

I do not know how to summarize this, it’s more crack than anything 💀

A/n: Reader is of a diva. And delusional. Chowder reference in Ace’s part lol

Warnings: I love using commas, reader has no gender or physical traits but is very feminine

Characters: Ace, Idia, Silver, Deuce, Jack, Sebek

Ace

Ace blankly stares ahead, ignoring you once again as you rant about how he just HAS to hold your hand.

He’s flattered really, such a pretty thing like you has taken such a liking to him, but you seem to be lost in your own little world sometimes.

“As my boyfriend it’s only natural-“ “we’re not dating,” pouting, you throw on your best puppy dog eyes.

Ace playfully rolled his eyes, “Oh cmon prefect that’s not gonna work on me.”

Hmph well that didn’t work

Alright then time for plan b

“Hold my hand, NOW!” You shout.

Startled, Ace shakily reaches his hand for yours, before you snatch it and squeeze.

“Gah! It burns!” He whines, gripping onto his arm. Ignoring his protest, you happily wave your interlocked hands, a satisfied smile adorning your face.

“Look everybody! We’re holding hands!” You shout, dragging Ace behind you in the courtyard as onlookers watch you with gazes of confusion and fear.

Idia

“Idiiiaaaaa~” you sang, banging on his door at an ungodly hour in the night. At first you wondered if coming at this time of the night was a good idea, but then you remembered Idia doesn’t really have a solid sleep schedule.

But it’s so quiet, is he ignoring you….? Nah you just gotta bang louder. Said man was currently hiding under his covers, silently begging for the gods to have mercy and hope someone will kick you out. Unfortunately for him, Ignihyde is scared of you.

Eventually he caves and opens his door, and your face practically lights up. “Idia! Oh finally I thought you were going to leave me out here!”

“…what do you want?”

You thrust an object in his hands, “here I need your help with this.” Idia glances down at his hands to see a broken glittery watch. Unimpressed, he glances back up to meet your eyes. “Seriously?” “One hundred percent!” You salute. “You couldn’t have waited till the morning?” “Well I thought about that…” You start, glancing off to the side as you play with your fingers,

“But I just missed you so much! Playing online with you is fun and all but I needed to see you again!”

Feeling his hair heat up, idia looks away. “W-Well you could’ve just asked, no need to bring an excuse,” he mumbled glancing at the watch. “Anyways come on in I’ll fix it for you”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod you’re gonna hang out with Idia…. In his room! You’re practically foaming at the mouth as you walk in the room and sit down on his bed.

You couldn’t contain the giggles coming out of your mouth as Idia worriedly glances at you from the corner of his eye.

Sighing dreamily, you wonder how this night is going to go. You’re lost in thought, wondering how to get Idia into joining you on the bed before he shoves your newly fixed watch in your hands and throws you out. “Here’s your watch prefect, I’ve fixed it up for you. Goodnight.” He says before the closing the door on you.

Even hermits value their sleep.

You’re left standing there mouth agape before you slowly walk back to ramshackle, a new plan already brewing in your mind.

Mission failed, but don’t worry you’ll get him next time.

Silver

You tap your perfectly manicured nails on your chin as you sit in the courtyard, watching the man who has stolen your heart. Everything about him is perfect. His gorgeous eyes and hair, his smile, that chivalrous personality and those forearms! Ugh he’s perfect.

Groaning you bury your face in your knees. “How am I supposed to go talk to him!?!”

Malleus sits next you, amusedly watching your inner turmoil. “Why not go talk to him child of man? You have expressed your desire to do so to me mutiple times and yet you have not followed through, I am starting to think you’re chickening out as you humans like to say.”

Gasping, you snap your head up. “Chicken??? Oh hornton I am many things but I am no chicken!” You stand up and dust yourself off. “fine I’ll go talk to him.”

Malleus chuckles, “I see no reason to be nervous child of man, silver seems to have taken a liking to you as well.”

The cogs turn in your head as you process his words. Silver likes you? He likes you?! Well uhhh- I mean of course he does! Who doesn’t like you??

With your ego rising to dangerous levels you march over to silver conversing with a few birds near the well.

Clearing your throat to gain his attention, he looks up and gives you a pleasant smile.

“Hello there prefect, did you need something?”

“Yes actually I need you to go on a date with me.” You state matter of factly.

His eyes widen. “A date..?” Nodding you respond, “Yes, with me, at that new cafe in Sage island.”

Clearing his throat he responds “I-I would love to.” You watch as a faint blush dusts his face.

You had that affect on him! Your ego once again shoots through the roof.

“Great! I already made the reservations a while ago so let’s meet up on Friday at 7!”

“When did you do that-“ “Don’t be late!” You hastily interrupt, not wanting to answer that question. Rushing back to malleus you practically scream “He said yes! Ohmygosh malleus you have to help me pick out my outfit! I need something that’ll make him say Oh wow!” “Of course my dear, shall we go now?”

Going on a date with the most dreamy boy at NRC…Oh you hope this isn’t a dream!

Deuce

Vdc practice was more stressful today, with epel lashing out and storming off, deuce following after him.

It’s been awhile since they left. You hoped everything was ok with deuce. Oh and epel too.

Argh I should’ve given vil a piece of mind! Then deuce would’ve fallen for my fearless charm! Your hands slap onto your cheeks while your thoughts spiral.

As time goes on and deuce and epel return, you’re overjoyed! Although that joy doesn’t last long when you find out where they had gone.

“WHYY??” You shout, falling to the ground in despair.

He went on a date with epel? He went on a date with someone that wasn’t you?!

The poor boy was awkwardly watching you spiral right in front of him. He glances towards his group mates behind you for help. Only for them to turn around, seemingly finding the wall so interesting.

Damn

Deuce scratches behind his head, wondering how to console the sobbing mess on the floor (you). “We just uh went to the beach? Nothing happened, we just shouted at the waves..”

That seemed to do the trick

“Oh I knew it!” You spring up. “My plans for our first date aren’t ruined!” “First date? What do you mean by that!?” He sputters.

You ignore him, lost in thought about what date you should go on. Although a Blast cycle date is off the list!

Hmph epel is lucky nothing happened between those two, or he would’ve gone straight into your burn book.

Jack

Recently you’ve been daydreaming,

Daydreaming about jack carrying you in his arms specifically. You sigh once again as you realize he’s never once lifted you up in his arms. He has no reason to

But this shall remain a dream no longer! You were determined to make this a reality, and with you and him both going to Vargas camp, you had your chance.

The day before vargas camp, you relay your plan once again to grim. He does not care.

It’s for the tuna it’s for the tuna it’s for the tuna- grim probably

Now here you two were, alone, in the woods looking for grim. You had roped that poor little beast into your plan, having him get “lost” while you asked jack to help you look for him.

You had to buy him premium tuna and do his homework for a week but it was so worth it. You think to yourself as you walk alongside jack

Seeing a tree stump ahead, you figured now was the time to put your plan into action.

“Ouch!” You hissed. Jack looked back, only to see you dramatically fall to ground with the worst acting he had ever seen in his life.

“Oooh my ankle, I think I broke it.” you whined.

“I don’t think you could break it by-“ “OOOH THE PAIN!” You interrupt. “I don’t think I can walk any further, I’ll need somebody to carry me.”

“I think you can-“

“Only a strong 6’3, wolf beast man will be able to help me out of this crisis!”

Jack playfully sighed, knowing you’d only continue to cry on the floor until you got what you wanted.

He walks over and lifts you up in his arms. “You’re lucky I like you prefect.” He states, glancing down at you.

Wait what you bluesceeen.

“What’s the matter prefect? You got what you wanted didn’t you?” He smirks.

Averting your gaze you mumble, “I-uh let’s just keep looking for grim.”

You weren’t expecting him to fluster you!

Sebek

All week you’ve been trying to get sebek to spend more time with you. From studying together, to accidentally bumping into him in the halls.

But you didn’t want to ask to spend more time together! You wanted him to come to you! Although nothing has worked so far… ugh how unfair. Who wouldn’t want to spend time with you!

Fine it seems you have to resort to EXTREME measures you internally groan, walking up to him after class.

“Sebek you aren’t busy after school today right? I was hoping you could teach me how to fight using a sword today,” you start, clasping your hands behind your back and rocking on your feet. You hoped you didn’t look too desperate

“Hmph, you’re lucky I don’t have any training today, I’ll meet you in Diasmonia later.”

Oh look how easy that was

You’ve been practicing outside for quite a bit. Spending time with the knight is always a treat. Getting to stare at his sharp eyes as he focuses on honing his skills, his muscles bulging with each swing- Oh look you fell into the grass and ate shit

“Prefect!” He snapped. “Why ask me to practice sword fighting if you’re not going to pay attention!”

To be honest you didn’t really care for sword training, you could defend yourself just fine, but getting to spend time with Sebek was worth the blood sweat and tears…. Kind of

“Oh I just hate to get my face dirty!” You groan, pouting on the floor. With a heavy sigh, sebek reaches a hand out to you, “Well you’ll get even more dirty sitting on the floor.” with a fast beating heart and warm face you take his hands as he helps you up.

“Come on let’s get you cleaned up-“ He offers, looking back at you only to be met with you staring with a lovesick smile.

Whipping his head back, “Don’t look like that!” He yells. To anyone else he may look mad, but that flushed face tells you otherwise. Smiling, you skip up to him and carefully link your pinky with his. The knight glances at you as you bat your eyelashes at him. Sighing once again, he grabs your hand as you both walk towards Ramshackle. A lovely shade of red coating his cheeks.

Hope you guys had as much fun reading as I did writing this lol

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