#Nemesis The Dark Matter

[aegis44]

A nemesis fanart

for @yamata41

I drew the cloaked version of the nemesis I saw in the nemesis animatic. I hope you like it.

I drew the cloak that way because the fur looks nice

[maspers]

Kirby and Dedede: We're not even really enemies at all at this point we just keep finding dumb reasons to fight because why not. 

Kirby and Meta Knight: We are true honored rivals, crossing blades and dueling while still maintaining deep respect for each other. (Well, as deep as Kirby can understand at least)

Kirby and Dark Matter: WHY. WON'T. YOU. JUST. DIE?!?!?!?

[gghostwriter]

How Three Became One

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 1 || Part 3 Summary: In the aftermath of your failed make-up anniversary dinner, the third person in the relationship reaches out to you Trope: Angst w.c: 1.6k a/n: There is JJ slander in this (doing it for the plot and to hurt you all, like how I hurt myself in writing this.) I’m mostly writing follow ups now of my one shots and this is part of a part three series, i swear once i get all these follow ups done I’m going to hibernate for a bit to focus on my crime series. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The somber air inside the coffee shop threatens to stifle your already critical heart. Its’ clear window clouded from the cold. Dull shades of gray creeping from every corner of the room, draining life as it went, no matter the strain of each lighted lamp on the tables.

Your fingers pulled the sleeves lower, wanting to cover any sliver of skin, trying to fight off the chill, as if it doesn’t come from within. Why did you agree to this, you wondered for the nth time, what good would confronting your nemesis, the root of the problem—Spencer’s Achilles heel, bring?

Comfort? 

Not at all.

The truth? 

Maybe.

Closure?

Closure from what exactly?

The failed relationship still stuck in limbo, dreadfully waiting for its free fall or flight from the precipice it’s balancing on?

Spencer had given you space, an act you weren’t sure to be grateful for. Yes, it spoke about his gentleman sensibilities and respect to not hound you to talk but on the other hand, his presence in reminding you how much he cared was sorely missed. Couldn’t he have at least left you one voicemail, voice pleading and coated with sadness, to repeat over and over again? Or a singular flower tucked to your doorstep, wilting slowly each day for your eyes to lay on?

You wanted nothing but you wanted something.

It was a conundrum.

Late into the night, when the phone rang and when your steps hastened against the wooden floor, you almost wished it was him. Eyes unfocused, the name unregistered, you surely wished it was him, instead of Her. 

Her voice, blended with a slight static, was hesitant and soft as if she had encountered a wounded animal in need of her saving, tore through the paper-thin shield you’ve built around your bleeding, bruised heart. 

You wanted to lash out, to be quiet, and to agree to anything she asked for—anything to end the call immediately, but when she suggested to meet in this quaint hidden coffee shop, describing it’s freshly brewed coffee and tasteful pastries, a sob rose and lodged itself in your throat.

It was your spot.

A secret place in your neighborhood you discovered and happily shared with Spencer.

This once vibrant store, the backdrop of so many rose-tinted memories, turned ordinary—tainted with the truth that it was no longer just yours and his. It was also Hers. 

“Hi,” JJ softly greeted, occupying the seat in front of you. “Thank you for seeing me.”

Clearing your throat, the shred of what little courage you mustered leaving your body. “Yeah, uh, hi.”

Her blue eyes documented the lemon ginger tea in front of you, cooled and untouched. “I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”

“Fine, been doing good,” the darkness under your dull eyes painted a different picture, something that registered as her feminine shoulders drooped.

Lips pressed tightly together, she shifted in her leather worn bench, allowing the silence to further the divide between you both—the two female protagonists featured in Spencer Reid’s story.

“You don’t have to lie—”

“Right. A profiler, as if I could ever forget.”

“—Spence also isn’t doing well—”

You flinched, the sound of his name uttered out loud feeling like a thousand pounds dropping on your chest.

“—and just know that I’m here for the both of you, to clear up any misunderstandings. Let me help, ask me anything.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s why we’re here after all.”

Your eyes examined how her golden hair fell perfectly around her, creating a halo of perfection you have never felt once before. You were always the kid who worked hard to seem put together—a stack of paper stick achievements built to hide how ordinary you turned out to be. A woman made of dismantled almosts. 

“Can you tell me—” clearing your throat “—about you and him. Anything, as team members, friends, your first date—just anything I need to know. He’d always quickly summarize the context of you as his best friend, defender, confidant. Never letting anything beyond that.”

She nodded with a slight smile on her lips. “He’s always been a little brother. I, like everyone else in the team, wanted to protect and guide him. Joining the BAU at such a young age and enduring hardships that come with it—the kidnapping, the Dilaudid, his parent’s involvement in a cold case, losing Maeve, and prison—is too much for anybody to bear all on their own. We’ve always been close, being exposed to the darkness that comes with our job will do that for you but I’ve never seen him like that with you. He was so light and happy, almost as if the younger version of Spence came back to life—” she laughed before the brightness wiped away from her face. “—and now, like this with you, he looks afraid, like he might lose it all, lose you. I’ve seen him sad when we weren’t able to save Maeve but this time, this sadness that comes from the thought of you leaving, seems too deep to come out from. I’m afraid that he won’t make it and for that, I feel responsible.” 

The deep red nail polish on your fingers were leaving chipped specks all over the white table, like blood on a pure white snow. The cage around your devotion and love threatens to topple down, releasing you from indecision. It seemed unfair to persecute a man of Spencer’s caliber for his past and for your fear of never being enough. 

A shadow of a smile peeked from behind your curtain of self-preservation. Maybe all could be salvaged with a deep talk between one another and a schedule to a therapist—solo and couple. You loved him strongly enough to tackle those doubts and reverently wish to see the relationship through, forever if time allowed it to.

But the small voice in the back of your head echoed above the chimes of change and courage, it’s deep tone trying to pull you back to stagnancy and reality. What did she mean by that? Why would she feel that way?

“Responsible?” you whispered, heart beating loudly against your chest. Its’ sound parroting on your ear. “Why would you feel responsible?” 

“During the last case, being held at gun point—” the bewilderment in your eyes causing her to gasp. “—he never told you, did he?” 

The anticipation, anger, and dread enveloped you, as if you were about to combust at the drop off a hat. If you looked down to any piece of you, you’d think you were doused with gasoline and a small flicker of fire started at the tips of your shoes. “Tell me what? JJ, tell me what?”

She took a deep breath, trying to delay the inevitable truth. “During that time, the unsub wanted us to admit, confess a secret no one knew and wanted nobody to know and I—”

You raised your hands, trembling from realization, to unsuccessfully block the truth from spilling into the world. You didn’t want to hear it—needed to never hear it. “Stop. Please, stop.” 

Droplets of sadness mixed with the specs of chipped nail polish on the table, your tears creating tracks on your ashen cheeks. This was enough to break you—the shaky mirage of your strong self was nowhere to be found as sobs freely escaped from the depths of your ribs. 

You came here, filled with indecision which turned into hope before rapidly decaying to death.

The final nail in the coffin.

“You’re married, JJ. You have kids, how could—” you pressed your fingers tightly to your lips, nails digging into the soft flesh. “—I guess I always knew, huh. I may not be a profiler but my woman intuition has never steered me wrong. Not even once.”

She hung her head, the locks of halo you once considered pure and perfect shrouded around her like a thick veil of shame.

“So what now? What about Will and I? Does he even know?”

Her watery blue eyes, pleading with yours. “No, nothing changes. I love Will and my kids and it’s just a secret I want to take to my grave.”

A vicious hollow laugh bled out of you. “Are you even inlove with him? Your husband?” 

The lack of response was very telling. Her love for her chosen partner was shallow compared to the other. You briefly wondered if there was no kids in the picture, would she have even stayed? 

The thought was dashed repeatedly in your head. It wasn’t your problem to speculate. Mind made up, you refuse to be part of this convoluted love story any longer.

“That’s cruel of you. I wouldn’t even wish that on my worst enemy,” you slowly gathered your things and any strength that could take you home. The only place you’d allow yourself to unravel. “I think, I should go.”

“But—”

You mustered a small smile. “Thank you for being honest, JJ. I wish you the best with all of this. Tell Spencer, I’m sorry and please take care of him for me, will you?”

Quickly turning away from the mess that shredded your love life into bits no longer salvageable, the dull shades of gray once crawling from every corner of the store followed your trail. 

Another dismantled almost to add to your ever growing collection.

The colorful world you and Spencer built with the thought of forever turned to ash. 

Burnt from the truth.

The remains charred to multitudes of gray that signified the end. 

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[drops-of-moonlights]

Following up the weapon ask, the weapons themselves! not all of them are on scale because I wanted the dimensions of the canvas to remain the same for better posting purposes lmao. The Solar Sytem Senshi's weapons in the AU woo! LENGTHY FUCKING POST BELOW.

We start with Usagi/Moon as is good and proper - her first weapon is a chakram, which she summons from her tiara gem hence its similarities with it. After that she gets the Moonlight Wand, a small partially bladed item that she uses to canalize her healing powers... until Serenity hijacks her body and turns into Princess Sailor Moon, at which point the crescent becomes a short saber, turning the Wand into the Moonlight Blade. The Wand shatters after defeating Metallia and Usagi's wandless until she finally achieves her Super transformation, creating the Spiral Heart Moon Rod out of her love for everyone. She sticks with it until it evolves into the Eternal Crosier once she obtains her permanent Eternal transformation.

Then the Inners! Outside Minako, they all get their weapons upon upgrading to Super form.

Mercury creates the Harmony Shield out of her desire to protect everyone and keep the peace, taking on the form of a harp as well as it comes from her desire to truly pursue her musical inclinations instead of what she thinks her peers expect out of her.

Mars forms the Sacred Fire Bow out of a similar sentiment, with a focus on wanting to never miss her mark. The bow itself is shaped after a yumi, the style of longbow used in kyudo.

Jupiter forms the Forest Wheels, a pair of wind-and-fire wheels, in her desire to be strong enough to fight for those that can't, favoring her more melee style of combat.

Venus obtains her Charm Chain while still in her Base form, proving herself different from her past incarnation and, ironically, breaking free of her chains with it. The Charm Mic does come with Super, as she decides that her dream matters just as much as her duty, forming her own spotlight.

Earth creates her sword for similar reasons as the rest, with the added bonus of proving herself a capable Senshi protecting her own planet still standing.

Then we have Uranus, Neptune and Vulcan! Their weapons were created or obtained while in their Base forms instead of when achieving Super form. In the AU, there's only two Talismans, the sword and the mirror, which change shape depending on their wielder's desires. Haruka, focusing on the Sailor part of her name, morphs the sword into a cutlass, showing her own desire to be seen as useful and noble. Michiru, on the other hand, saw the mirror and went "But of course, such an item of great power would be a mere accessory. I am most assured in that it'll be able to aid me in melee combat, should I find myself embroiled in it." and the magic was like "GOD FINE HERE IT CAN STAB NOW" and turned the mirror itself into a reflective dagger. As for Aylin, her warhammer's pretty straightforward as far as weaponry goes.

Then we get Pluto and Mamoru, the odd ones! Pluto being Pluto, she keeps her Garnet Orb and Garnet Key Rod pretty much the same, only now it's not a Talisman, just a very powerful thing. Tuxedo Mask's first weapon, parallel to Moon's chakrams, are sunflower-shaped shuriken, used mainly to pin down and trap opponents. During the fight with Fiore, where he gets his own Super form, he creates the Sunflower Baton, which he uses mainly for defensive maneuvers more than offensive ones.

We now get to Tsubasa! she was my favorite batch lol. We start with the Cutie Moon Rod/Dark Moon Rod, used when acting as Sailor Chibimoon and "Sailor Nemesis" respectively. It's broken as the Dark Moon Rod after the death of Pluto. Then we get her first true personal weapon as Eclipse with the Heart Mace, showing her more physical inclination to fighting compared to her mom. Pegasus grants her the Kaleidoscope Sword to aid in her fight against the Dead Moon Circus, fashioned after his horn, and then after that, in her desire to have a ranged option, her power creates the Eclipse Rose Pistol, a sparkly, magical gun. Unlike Usagi, who only has her chakrams and her crosier, Tsubasa can switch around between all three of her weapons.

Last but not least, Tsubasa's crew! Chiara/Ceres gets the Spring Tact, a conductor's baton she uses to direct her magic. Paola/Pallas gets the Winter Orbs, which she can multiply ad infinitum and have a variety of uses, from aiding in her magic to just being freezing bombs. Joana/Juno gets the Autumn Daggers, a set of throwing knives which can be covered in stone for extra impact. Vera/Vesta of course then gets the Summer Whip, and she uses it accordingly. Saturn keeps her Silence Glaive as is good and proper, and then Lia/Nemesis gets the Mirror Shield, which she uses more as a canalizer for magic attacks and to deflect enemy ones.

[revelboo]

Could you do more of your story for TFP Sound wave? He is my favorite iteration of him and your writing is so good. I love your blog

Sure!

Bad Idea Pt 8

TFP Soundwave x Reader

• Ignoring Lazerbeak’s annoyance sitting at the back of his processor like a dark cloud, he turns his attention away from his screens to the small form enshrouded in a nest of blankets on his desk caged between his arms and uses a tendril to adjust one of your blankets, letting the graspers on the end linger against your neck so your emotions spark intoxicatingly through him. Reassuring him that all’s well as he watches over you and helping drown out the mental distress he can feel from the other end of the ship from Megatron’s little pet and the human that Shockwave has taken for reasons he’s trying very hard not to think about. It shouldn’t matter to him one way or the other, but after you? There’s a vague sense of guilt for those others even knowing there’s nothing he can do for them. You he can protect, though. And he will.

• Sleepily peering up at him as he works, he somehow knows the second you’re awake, head tipping down to stare at you as one of his tendrils slides against, then coils about your ankle to make you smile. For being a giant, spiky horror, he’s surprisingly sweet and clingy. “Anything exciting?” You ask, and his head tilts before lifting back to the bank of screens and then down to you in what you guess is a ‘no.’ From what you’ve seen of the feeds throughout the Nemesis, it’s normally pretty boring unless his big, even scarier boss is on a rampage.

• Your little head tilts up to watch the screens with him and he wonders if you’re trying to help or just bored. Running his graspers through your hair, he likes to think you enjoy his company, like to be with him. Remembering that you’re there waiting for him makes his tasks a bit more tolerable, even if leaving you unsupervised makes him uneasy. Old worries like raw wounds still hurting him even though he tries to bury them. Tries to forget and move on. You’re just so fragile.

• The steady slide of those graspers through your hair is almost hypnotic, every bit of tension easing under his attention. You’re never quite sure what’s going on in that pointy head of his, but his actions? Always trying to take care of you, worrying. It’s a pity he’s not a human guy, because you’d grab on and refuse to let go. He’s not human and you already feel that way as silly it is. It’s likely some weird combination of Stockholm’s and stress, but you enjoy being around him. Love how affectionate he is. Venting softly, one of his graspers slides over the shell of your ear, before he just curls the tendril about you, gently squeezing to make you laugh.

• Lowering his head when you tip your own up to look at him, he very carefully bumps his helm to your forehead, spark warming as you reach up to lay a soft palm on him. His affectionate, little songbird. The quick brush of your soft mouth against him sparks electric through him, freezing him in place, before you duck your head. Hiding how red your face now is from him.

Previous

Next

[fangdokja]

A love letter: from a guy who’s watched every movie, probably knows your underwear size.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Word Count. 1,037

♡ Yandere! Fanboy who's a highly successful and respected CEO. He's young, attractive, disgustingly competent, and everyone kisses the ground he walks on. But deep down? He’s a terminally online fanboy who has spent an unhealthy amount of time overanalyzing every single role you've ever played.

♡ Yandere! Fanboy who's in board meetings discussing billion-dollar acquisitions, yet his mind is occupied with that one interview where you casually mentioned your favorite brand of tea. He's definitely the type of person who has an entire Reddit archive dedicated to dissecting every subtle micro-expression you make.

♡ Yandere! Fanboy who has been in the trenches of fandom wars over you. He's argued on forums, destroyed lesser mortals in Twitter debates, and singlehandedly written an unhinged 100k-word dissertation about your artistic choices. His assistant knows better than to bring up your name in his presence unless they want to hear a three-hour lecture about "symbolism" in your performances.

♡ Yandere! Fanboy who definitely has a burner account where he trashes your haters. The fact that he owns entire media conglomerates and could just buy out any publication that slanders you? Irrelevant. The thrill of obliterating someone in an online debate is far more satisfying. His employees whisper that he turns into an eldritch beast when someone misinterprets one of your characters.

♡ Yandere! Producer who has been in charge of your career since you were too young to know what a contract was. Who molded you into the perfect performer, ensuring that no matter what role you played, you would be the best in the industry. He's the reason you're the heir to an empire instead of some washed-up has-been.

♡ Yandere! Producer who's a ruthless perfectionist. If you even THINK about slacking off, he appears out of thin air to personally drag you back to work. You’ve never once seen him take a break. You’re not even sure if he sleeps. His entire existence revolves around making sure you're always at your peak.

♡ Yandere! Producer who definitely doesn't have romantic feelings for you. Absolutely not. That would be inappropriate. He’s just extremely invested in you. Extremely protective. Extremely willing to ruin anyone who dares to speak ill of you. But it’s not love. Nope. Not at all.

♡ Yandere! Producer who would rather perish than let you retire. You want to take a break? Go off the grid? Live like a normal person? Cute. Real cute. But no. Not happening. He’ll personally drag you back to set himself if he has to.

♡ Yandere! Rival who's your childhood best friend turned arch-nemesis. The two of you were supposed to rule the industry together. Instead, you betrayed him. You left him behind. You chose your career over him, and now he despises you. Except he doesn’t. He just wants to strangle you and kiss you at the same time.

♡ Yandere! Rival who is the only person who truly knows you. The deadpan, asocial, walking existential crisis that exists beneath all the roles you play? He’s seen it. He’s lived it. He’s watched you go from some awkward kid who just wanted to escape reality to the living legend you are today. And he hates it. He hates that you succeeded without him.

♡ Yandere! Rival who makes it his personal mission to ruin you. Not out of malice, of course. Just… intense, aggressive, deeply personal spite. He'll buy out companies just to sabotage your projects. He'll challenge you at every turn, making sure you never have a moment of peace. And if you ever show weakness? If you ever show even a hint of wanting to run away from all of this?

Yeah. No. He’s dragging you back himself.

♡ Yandere! Hater who is, objectively speaking, your most logical critic. He doesn’t simp. He doesn’t fanboy. He doesn’t give a shit about your popularity. He just thinks you’re a fraud.

♡ Yandere! Hater who has made an entire career out of analyzing and criticizing you. He's one of the few people who sees past all the personas, the roles, the carefully constructed images you create. And he calls you out for it constantly.

♡ Yandere! Hater who roasts you mercilessly. He sees through every act, every calculated move, every attempt you make to distance yourself from reality. He calls you a coward for never playing roles that hit too close to home. And you hate how much he’s right.

♡ Yandere! Hater who definitely doesn’t have feelings for you. Absolutely not. Just because he keeps tabs on all your projects? Just because he watches every single one of your performances with an almost obsessive level of scrutiny? Just because he memorized your entire career history down to the most obscure details?

Yeah, no. He just thinks you're a hack. That’s all.

And you?

You’re just here. Existing. Barely surviving the sheer insanity of these people. You grew up in an industry where everyone wears a mask, so you became the best at it. You play roles because it’s easier than being yourself. You disappear into characters, because facing reality is overrated.

You’re the dead-eyed, sleep-deprived, existential crisis-ridden heir to an entertainment empire, and somehow, you’ve collected an entire legion of obsessive psychos who can’t decide whether they want to ruin you, worship you, or lock you in a gilded cage.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson , @yandreams-storageblog , @tiffyisme3760 , @songbirdgardensworld

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

[smileysuh]

racer

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car. Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”

tw/cw. car crash/injury, Johnny maybe slightly tried to kill Jaehyun, illegal street racing, protected sex, dry humping, blowjob, hand job, pining, praise, slow sex, slight wrist restraint, admitting you love someone while balls deep, sweet dirty talk, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) Lil Suh, baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.7k

🍭 aus. street racer!Jaehyun, star-crossed lovers, secret relationship, step-brother!Johnny, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I watched the new Fast and Furious movie a few months ago and this is the outcome

For something that’s supposed to be illegal, street races are big events. Under the cover of darkness, with the moon high in the sky, it almost feels like you’re at an outdoor party. The pavement is covered in people, and they part like the red sea as your cars slowly dive through, coming to a stop just near the starting line.

“Chin up, Lil Suh,” you step brother’s best friend says, nudging you while people begin to swarm Johnny’s racing car in front of you. “Nothings going to happen to him.”

No one is as confident in Johnny as Donghyuck is, although, it’s not Johnny you’re worried about.

Things have been coming to a head lately between your stepbrother and his supposed ‘arch nemesis,’ a new racer on the scene by the name of Jeong Jaehyun. The past three street races have been inceasingly dangerous, with the two often battling for first even as they rushed over the finish line. Jaehyun had even beaten your stepbrother two weeks ago, and Johnny hasn’t been able to get over the loss, his first in over a year and a half.

You have knots in your stomach, and a sneaking suspicion that something bad is about to happen. To make matters worse, you have a vested interest in both of the street racers. Johnny is family - even if he’s not blood - but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t care about Jaehyun too.

You hadn’t meant to find yourself in a secret fuck buddy style relationship with a racer, let alone your brother’s nemesis… it had just sort of happened, and now, you’re realizing the true depths of the consequences. 

Getting out of Donghyuck’s car, you watch Johnny move to sit on the hood of his own racer, girls swarming him and running their hands over his fresh paint job. The purple underlights always gained Johnny attention, and they’d been his signature colour… until Jaehyun had arrived onto the scene with a similar aesthetic.

“How many other racers are here?” you ask, tucking close to Donghyuck while he guides you to your brother. 

“I think I saw Taeyong’s car when we drove up,” your brother’s best friend notes, although, with so many people swarming, it’s hard to get a real count just yet. 

Besides, Taeyong’s not who you care about. 

Jaehyun’s always had impeccable timing, too impeccable for your brother’s liking, and a familiar rumble in the periphery draws your attention. The swarm begins to part, and Jaehyun’s car slowly rolls up, coming to a stop right next to Johnny’s.

Your brother’s expression had gone from a smile to a scowl, and he watches his nemesis exit the drivers seat. To Jaehyun’s credit, he always nods at your brother. You’ve never been able to ascertain if it’s out of respect for Johnny’s reputation, or due to Jaehyun being a genuinely nice guy, and the time you spend with Jaehyun is always filled with more pleasurable things than questions of intention. 

The car that pulls up behind Jaehyun’s belongs to his own right hand man, a mechanic by the name of Kim Jungwoo. With shiny bleached white hair, and a smile big enough to light up his entire face, the street puppy always draws attention to himself, even though he’s not a racer. 

Jaehyun might not have the liberty to lock eyes with you, but Jungwoo does, and it’s been clear to you for a while now that he knows about what you and Jaehyun get up to behind closed doors. Jungwoo even has the nerve to flash you a wink before going to join Jaehyun on the hood of his car, and the motion isn’t lost on Donghyuck.

“Hate that dude,” your brother’s best friend says under his breath.

“He seems okay,” you sigh, and it’s the most you can defend the street puppy. 

You notice a small man running around, and he leans close to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. Taeil is one of the organizers, whatever that entails, and you’ve always thought it odd that the quiet, well mannered man would even be a part in any of this, let alone one of the people calling the shots.

“Yo, yo, yo! How we doin tonight?!” A loud voice booms through a few speakers placed along the street, and Mark Lee’s familiar way of speaking draws all eyes as the Canadian moves to stand in the bed of his own flashy green truck while everyone cheers.

He doesn’t race anymore, one bad accident had turned him off of the streets for good, but he’s one of the best announcers you’ve ever witnessed, with a talent for rallying the crowd and getting energy flowing.

“I’m gonna need all the racers to move to the finish line, that means you, Doyoung,” Mark grins, and you’ll never cease to enjoy the beef Mark has with the man with red underlights. 

Taeyong, who had also not been in proper place, begins to roll up to stop next to Johnny, although, he never gets an earful like his friend Doyoung. 

“We’re in for a big race tonight, everyone,” Mark announces. “In pink, we have our very own Mister Lee Taeyong!” The crowd cheers. “And in red, as always, Doyoung Kim- boo!” Mark’s the only one booing, and he’s also butchered Doyoung’s name, which always make the racer’s skin flash the colour of his car. “In purple, we’ve got the man of the evening, the winner of our last race, Jeong Jaehyun!” The crowd roars, and you feel the vibration in your very bones. “And last, but certainly not least, also in purple - you should really trademark that, dude - we have the previously undefeated, the one, the only, Mister John J Suh!” 

If Jaehyun’s cheers had been a roar, Johnny’s are like rolling thunder, and he stands proudly next to his car, waving to his adoring fans before leaning down to enter his vehicle.

“Looks like our guys are eager to get this race started, and they can’t be the only ones, lets hear it for our drivers!” 

The good thing about being in a run down industrial section of the city, is that there are no neighbours to bother with the deafening sounds. You can be as loud as you want, and you cheer along with the crowd, which begins to move away from the cars as their drivers start their engines.

“We’ve all been here before,” Mark says. “We know this track. But for those of you who are new… ask a friend because I will not be explaining the route.” No one has ever called Mark particularly thorough in his announcements, but he’s comical at least, and many people chuckle. 

“So what do you say everyone, should we get this show started?!” 

As the crowd erupts, you notice a familiar shorty rushing up to you. 

“Our usual starting girl is out with a cold, but I know just the substitute,” Mark says in the periphery of your mind, and Taeil shoves a flag into your hand, grabbing your arm to drag you forward. “Lets all give a big round of applause for Johnny’s sister, Lil motherfucking Suh!”

You hate this. You hate it so much. 

This isn’t the first time they’ve made you start the race on short notice, and you’d told them never to make you do it again- but somehow, you find yourself being lifted into the bed of Mark’s truck, Hyuck following close behind you. The vehicle is positioned about fifteen meters in front of the starting line, and once you throw the flag, it will lurch into motion, speeding ahead of the cars and giving those of you in the bed the perfect view of the race.

It can be a dodgy position to be in, as one bump can throw you, Mark, or his posse out of the truck- you’d heard about it happening once.

“What do you say, Lil Suh?” Mark pulls you back to his chest, securing an arm around your waist, the only true anchor you’ll have once this begins. “Are you ready to see some real action?”

He holds the mic in front of you, and you find your gaze shifting to Jaehyun’s car as you take a deep breath. There are certain expectations of a flag girl, and you’re a legacy here. You’ll be damned if you don’t make it a show, even if this was unexpected.

“Tonight, our city's best racers are here to fight for number one,” you announce, before focusing in on the drivers revving their engines, as is custom. “It’s up to you four to prove yourselves. Be fast. Be safe. And no matter what happens, don’t fucking lose! Get ready, racers!” You hold the flag above your head, throwing it into the air as you scream “Go!” 

The truck lurches into action, and Mark pulls you tight against his chest, laughing loudly in your ear as you all speed off down the street track. The wind whips through your hair, and Hyuck’s screaming loudly next to you, one hand in the air while he holds on with the other.

It is exhilarating to be in the truck, to be ahead of the cars struggling for first position. It’s the clearest view of the race- but it’s also not where you wanted to be tonight. Johnny’s already being aggressive in his driving, giving Jaehyun little space, and your stomach turns again. 

The cars are quickly gaining on you, and you feel Mark reach back, smacking his hand on the top of the truck to tell the driver to go faster. You let out a squeal of delight, grabbing onto Hyuck when your vehicle lurches forward again, the driver flooring it while pulling slightly off to the side in preparation for the cars to pass.

Maybe you’re overreacting about this, maybe this race will be okay-

Johnny makes a sudden swerve, clipping Jaehyun’s car despite your secret fuck buddy’s attempt to avoid it. Just like that, Jaehyun is skidding, and your heart stops in your chest. At speeds like this, even a touch can send you spiraling, and that’s exactly what happens to Jaehyun. 

“Fuck!” Mark says loudly beside you, immediately pulling a red flag out of his pocket, and you all wait to see what will happen next-

Doyoung had been right on Jaehyun’s tail, and the sudden speed change has him barreling into Jaehyun’s back, lifting the car and causing it to flip upside down- miraculously, Jaehyun lands back on his tires, but both he and Doyoung clip a shopping cart that had been just to the side of the makeshift track.

Wheels skid loudly, a screeching sound that sets your teeth on edge, and both cars come to a skittering halt on the side of the road, with Jaehyun half up on the sidewalk. 

The truck slows down, but both Johnny and Taeyong go speeding past, obviously intent on finishing the race despite the collision. 

You don’t care about winners, you only care about Jaehyun, and you’re hopping out of the bed of the truck before it’s even at a full stop. 

You stumble on the pavement, but as soon as you’re steady, you take off running. 

The sound of your heart is practically deafening as you run the fifty meters to the crash, and you go right past Doyoung, jumping up onto the curb next to Jaehyun’s car to look inside. “Jae!” you scream.

“Shh, Lil Suh,” he groans, reaching for the door handle. He looks a little roughed up, and his lip is bleeding- “I’m okay,” he tries to assure you, but he’s obviously winded as he stands from the car, leaning on the door while you rush to support him under his other arm. 

“Jae,” you say his name again, hand on his abdomen as you hold him up. 

“That fucking brother of yours!” comes Doyoung’s familiar screaming, as he also exits his car, coming around the front to assess the damages.

“Don’t yell at her,” Jaehyun states, straightening a little even as he leans back against his vehicle.

“Since when were you two so fucking chummy?” Doyoung rages, skin a classic tint of red.

“Woah, woah, woah-” Mark has finally arrived on the scene, and he also side steps Doyoung, coming straight for you and Jaehyun. “Dude, are you okay?!”

Hyuck’s behind Mark, and he’s watching you with narrowed eyes as he moves to stand by the red racer, not saying a word. 

You swallow thickly, knowing you should let go of Jaehyun- that if you continue to support him like this, Hyuck will most definitely mention it to Johnny- but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from the street racer, so you force your gaze from Hyuck.

“He clipped me,” Jaehyun says. “John clipped me.”

“Yeah, he fucked you big time, dude,” Mark agrees, and you hear the approach of cars. 

Within eyeshot of the starting line, the mechanics there must have seen the crash, and you recougnize Yuta and Jungwoo’s cars as they pull to a stop a few feet away.

“Jae!” Jungwoo bellows, running over to replace Mark on Jaehyun’s other side. “Are you alright?!”

“I’m fine,” Jaehyun tries to brush it off, but he winces a little under Jungwoo’s grip.

“Your car is fucked, man,” Yuta muses, walking around Jaehyun’s vehicle and eying the damages. 

“That’s really not what he needs to hear right now,” you shoot at the Japanese mechanic who has no bedside manner whatsoever. He holds his hands up in defeat, stepping back.

“The race didn’t even stop-” Jungwoo breathes.

“Johnny wanted to win,” Doyoung states, crossing his arms over his chest and eying Hyuck. “Your boyfriend did this on purpose.”

“Woah, now,” Hyuck laughs. “I get all the pussy dude- how many times do I have to tell you I’m not dating Johnny-”

The two begin to fight, and you ignore it, helping Jaehyun to Jungwoo’s car. The mechanic does most of the heavy lifting as he supports Jaehyun get into the front seat. Then you turn to walk back to Yuta, lowering your voice. “Can you fix his car?”

“I mean…” Yuta sighs, cocking his head to the side. “Sure, I can fix it.”

“Then fix it,” you state, motioning to the tow truck he’d driven up in. “Take it back to your shop, I don’t want to look at it anymore.”

“Shouldn’t I be dealing with Jae on this?” Yuta eyes you suspiciously. “Since when were you two so close, Lil Suh?”

“Just do it, Yuta.” You reach out to touch his arm gently. “Please.”

Jungwoo arrives behind you. “Tow it to my garage,” he instructs. “If we both work on this, we can have it fixed in no time.”

“We gotta get to the finish line,” Mark announces, already on the way to his truck.

“Yes, we do,” Doyoung agrees, and you can see his hand balled into a fist. 

When you look to Jungwoo’s car, Jaehyun returns your longing gaze, but you know that if you drive with him and his friend, it will be as good as announcing to your brother that your allegiance has changed.

With a deep sigh, you follow Hyuck and Doyoung to Mark’s truck, taking your spot in the bed. 

The finish line is only a short drive away, especially with all your drivers flooring it, and it’s hard not to look at Jaehyun and Jungwoo as they drive behind you.

“What happened back there?” Hyuck asks, pulling you to his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” he says firmly. “You and Jae.”

The words that come out of your mouth next are painful, and they’re only half a lie, “There is no me and Jae.”

Hyuck studies your face. “There better not be.”

Despite the crash that had occured, most of the crowd seems to be in happy spirits as they gather around the finish line. They move out of the way as Mark’s truck pulls up, and he takes out a green flag, ready to declare the winner.

Two cars come barelling around a turn, moving into another long stretch just before the finish. It’s a flash of pink and purple, but there’s a clear victor, and it’s not even much of a battle as Johnny comes racing over the finish line.

Everybody erupts into cheers, everybody except you. You can’t find your voice, you can only clap while Johnny does a victory donut or two before returning to the finish line where the racers are. 

He gets out of his car with a massive grin, and Doyoung hops out of the truck-

Hyuck stops him, holding Doyoung tight while he rages in his arms. “Let me at him!” Doyoung bellows, but your brother’s right hand man knows better than to allow Doyoung to rain on Johnny’s winner parade.

Jaehyun’s right hand man, however, knows no such restraint, and you watch Jaehyun approach your brother, the crowd parting to let him through.

“Fuck, shit, fuck-” Mark cusses next to you, leaping out of the truck while you follow.

“You clipped me,” Jaehyun states, hands balled into a fists at his side.

“That’s part of racing,” Johnny brushes it off.

“Maybe part of your racing,” Jaehyun growls, “But not all of us are suicidal maniacs like you!”

“Every driver is a suicidal maniac, it’s part of the fucking job.” Your brother rolls his eyes.

Then Jaehyun is grabbing the front of Johnny’s shirt, and the taller of the two is looking down at him with a grin. 

Jaehyun is seething. “If I’d had known we could play dirty like that, I would have knocked you on your ass during our last race!” 

Johnny leans closer to the angry racer. “I’d like to see you try.”

Jaehyun pulls his fist back, and you know exactly what he’s about to do. You find yourself jumping between them before you can even think about it, pushing Johnny back. “Jae, don’t.”

His motion stops, and he looks from you to your brother, swallowing thickly. His hand drops to his side, and Johnny lets out a loud laugh. You see the effect it has on Jaehyun, can see his skin reddening with anger. 

You feel horrible about this. About all of it. 

“I’d like to stay and chat,” Johnny says, “but I’ve got an after party to go to. Winners only. Come on, Lil Suh, I’ll take you on a victory lap.”

You feel like a chew toy caught between two rottweilers, and it kills you to give Jaehyun one last look before turning your back on him, following your brother to his car.

Jaehyun is watching you as you get in, and when you close the door, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“I know, what a killer race,” Johnny grins, starting his engine. “Could have been better though, he could have actually died.”

“Is that what you were aiming for, John?” You grab onto the door handle, digging your nails against it to stop yourself from acting out.

“Not particularly. I saw the opportunity to take two birds out with one stone, so I did.” He assesses you out of the corner of his eye. “That doesn’t bother you, does it, Lil Suh?���

“No,” you lie through gritted teeth as the car speeds off to do a victory lap. “I’m not bothered at all.”

“Good, now sit back, and let me show you why us Suh’s are winners in this city.”

You usually like speeding with your brother, he’s a daring driver, and the way he drifts on sharp turns has always been something that brought you delight. But tonight, you can’t find it in yourself to laugh, even while he rolls down his window to let out a howl of victory into the night air.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, skimming the pseudonym contact name you use for Jaehyun. ‘Slip away from the party. Same place as usual. Be there. Please.’

It had been a little difficult to escape both Johnny and Hyuck from the afterparty, with the latter of the two even catching you just as you slipped outside. Hyuck had been smoking, leaning against the wall, and he’d stopped you as you’d rushed past.

“Where are you off to?” He’d asked.

You’d used the only lie you could think of, telling him, “My friend just got dumped, she needs me.”

Hyuck hadn’t asked anymore questions, and now, you’re arriving at the motel you and Jae use as a meeting point. The lobby boy nods at you as you walk past. “He’s in room thirteen.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, tossing him a five dollar bill from your pocket and taking the staircase two at a time to reach the second level. You don’t even bother to knock on Jaehyun’s door, you never do, you simply slip inside, locking it behind you.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and with his shirt off, you can see the full extent of the crash. His ribcage has a nasty bruise, which is visible under the ice pack he’s holding to his skin, and your heart breaks for him.

“Jae,” you whisper, sinking to your knees in front of him to assess the damage. “You need to go to the hospital-”

“And tell them what?” he sighs. “That I got in a car crash? Come on, we both know that could never work. I’m fine.”

You reach for the ice pack. “There could be internal bleeding-”

“Baby,” he catches your wrist, “I said I’m fine.” 

You look up into his dark eyes, and you take a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jaehyun cocks his head to the side, brows furrowing. 

“Everything-” you swallow thickly. “I’m sorry for the crash, and for getting between you and Johnny, and for going to that stupid after party with him-”

“He knows.”

“What?”

“Johnny,” Jaehyun says. “He knows about us.”

“He doesn’t know-” you shake your head.

“He does,” the racer insists. “Everyone knows, especially now. Hyuck will tell him about the way you ran to me after the crash. He’s not stupid. He’s gonna know, baby.”

“No one knows,” you say again, but your voice is a whisper now.

“They all do,” Jaehyun tells you. “They see it in the way we look at each other.”

You stand up, gazing down at the beautiful street racer who you never should have even entertained, let alone slept with- “How do we look at eachother?” 

Jaehyun licks his lips, tugging at your shirt. “Like two people who want to rip eachothers clothes off.”

“Is that all?” you tease, lifting your shirt up and over your head so his hands can make full contact with your waist, pulling you closer.

“Like two people who care about each other,” he clarifies, voice near a whisper. “I told you, everyone saw the way you ran to my car when it flipped-”

“I was worried about you,” you insist.

The beautiful racer smiles. “Are you finally going to admit you’re hopelessly in love with me, Lil Suh?”

You scoff. “You wish, Jeong Jaehyun.”

Before he can give you a snappy comeback, you grab his face, pressing your mouth to his gently. He has a busted lip, and he groans, fingers tightening on your waist to tug you closer.

Your knees find the bed on either side of his hips, and Jaehyun lets out another moan of pain as you lay him down against the mattress.

 “Are you sure we should be fucking while you’re in this condition?” you ask, pressing kisses to his throat.

“We’re not fucking,” he says, applying pressure to  your waist that prompts you to grind down against him, feeling the erection in his pants.

“We’re not?” you laugh. “Then what are we doing?”

“Tonight, as cheesy as this sounds,” Jaehyun sighs, “we’re not fucking, we’re making love. And don’t-” he cuts you off before you can speak. “Don’t try to deny it. We both know there’s something here. Something between us. You might still be too afraid to admit it, but I’m not. Not after that crash.”

Who knew a near death experience would make a street racer so sentimental… but you’re not complaining. 

You look down at Jaehyun, and he stares back. You’re not sure what to say, so you say nothing, instead, you kiss him again, hoping that the motion speaks louder than words.

You’re doing your best to be gentle with him, but Jaehyun has always brought a side out of you that’s anything but gentle. These soft kisses are nice though, and he takes your breath away as easily as ever.

Your hands are on either side of the bed next to his head, and you’re trying not to lean on his bruised chest. The ice pack is pressed between your bodies, and the cold sensation is interesting in contrast to his hot lips and the hands that prompt your hips to continue your grinding against him.

Even while your lower halves are both clothed, it feels good to be rubbing against him, to feel how hard he gets from just a bit of kissing. He’s right that there’s something going on between the two of you, something undeniable.

You care about him, more than you ever thought you would. 

Your hand slips between your bodies and you cup his cock, making him moan. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he whispers, tangling a hand through your hair so he can pull your head slightly to the side, gaining access to your throat.

“I want to take your pants off,” you tell him, already beginning to get frustrated by his jeans. 

“Then take them off,” he says simply. “I’m all yours.”

You sit up, gazing down at your brother’s bruised mortal enemy… and then, you begin to work on his belt. 

He watches you silently, and when you slip to the floor, tugging his clothes off, he lifts his hips to make it easier. 

Usually, things with Jaehyun are somewhat rushed, but tonight, you want to give him all your time and attention. He deserves it - after your brother ran him off the road - and his cock looks so pretty in the shitty motel light.

“You don’t have to-” he begins to tell you, but you cut him off.

“I want to,” your hand finds the base of his cock, and you trace your thumb up the vein that runs along the underside of it. “Just relax for me, Jae. I want this.” 

He lets out a shaky breath, but does as you ask, leaning back against the mattress while you bring your mouth to his cock. You start by licking the tip, and your featherlight touch is enough to have him groaning, grabbing at the bed sheets.

He’s so sensitive with you, and you love it. 

It makes teasing him all the more fun, and you continue your small motions, wrapping your mouth around the head while you stroke his length. You swirl your tongue, suckling and earning more reactions from the pretty, bruised man, who’s completely at your mercy.

“Please,” he groans, and that’s all you need to sink your mouth further onto his cock, bobbing your head gently. 

One of his hands comes down to stroke your hair, and his touch makes you want to please him even more. He’s being as gentle with you as you are with him, and you’re not the one all banged up from a crash.

Your drool is dripping on his length, making it easier to stroke him, and you apply a bit more pressure. Jaehyun gasps, hips twitching, and you close your eyes to enjoy the feeling of pleasuring him.

Your pussy is throbbing between your legs, and after you’re done working him up like this, you can’t wait to ride him. It’s not often that you’re on top with Jae, but if there’s ever a night for it, it’s tonight.

“So good, baby,” Jaehyun moans. “So good for me.”

His praise has you sucking harder on his cock, and he lets out more sounds of pleasure that go straight to your core.

You continue to work him up with your hand, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can while he struggles below you. He’s gripping the sheets, hard, and you can tell it’s taking a lot of willpower for him not to thrust up and meet you- but Jaehyun’s never been the type for making you choke on his cock, and you realize now that maybe he has cared about you all this time.

As rough as he’s been with you in the past, it’s always been because you were begging for it, and even then, he’s kept a gentleness in his actions-

You do love Jeong Jaehyun, and it’s almost comical that you realize it while your mouth is stuffed full of his cock.

You pull off of him, your hand stroking his shaft while you take a breath. “I need you inside of me,” you tell him.

“No more waiting,” he agrees.

You let go of him, standing up and reaching into your back pocket for a condom before taking off your pants and underwear. “Can you move up the bed a little for me, Jae?”

“Yeah,” he shuffles up the mattress, watching you discard your bra. You’re fully naked for him now, and you straddle his legs, tearing open the condom package and rolling the rubber onto his cock.

Then you lean over Jaehyun, kissing him gently, grabbing him with one hand and guiding him to your core. You sink down slowly, and you moan into each others mouths while he tangles his fingers in your hair, keeping your lips on his. 

Actions most definitely speak louder than words, and the kiss is one that has you even more breathless than before. It’s not like any other kisses you’ve shared with the street racer. This one truly means something, and your pussy flutters just thinking about it.

Jaehyun groans, one hand moving to your hip, and you take it as a sign to move. You begin to bounce on him slowly, revelling in the feeling of his cock filling you up just right.

It’s interesting to be on top, to be the one in control, and Jaehyun lets you have free range in your motions. The hand on your hip isn’t insistent, he doesn’t prompt you to go harder or faster-

Maybe the slowness of it, the deliberate movements, are part of what makes this an act of love, not just fucking. 

It’s not hard, or fast, or rough, but it’s still making your toes curl as you ride him, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. “Jae,” you groan, thighs beginning to burn-

He reads you like the back of his hand, and in one motion, he’s rolling you onto your back. Jaehyun lets out a small wince, and you immediately double check him, cupping his face while he slides the ice pack onto the bed next to you. “Maybe I should stay on top-”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I’m okay. It’s my turn to want something.”

“Yeah?” you smile up at him. “And what is it that you want?” 

“I want to make you feel good,” he says, leaning down to kiss your throat, his noze nuzzling your skin. “Want to take care of you. Want to make you cum.”

You whimper at his words, gently wrapping your legs around his hips while he begins to thrust into you. 

“Put your hands above your head for me, baby,” he instructs.

You follow through, and he captures your wrists against his palm, pinning them to the bed. 

For someone who’s just been in a crash, his motions are still quite fluid and rhythmic. His lips continue against your neck, and you gasp when he suckles on your sweet spot.

“If-” you swallow thickly, “If it hurts, let me know.”

“Oh, baby,” Jaehyun smiles against your skin, “Love always hurts. I’m not going to start complaining about it now.”

The word ‘love’ makes you tingle with emotion, and you gasp as he begins to fuck you harder, pressing you against the bed. 

“Can you rub your clit for me, baby? Your mouth felt so good, and I don’t think I can last that much longer,” he admits. 

He lets go of your wrists and without a word of protest, you slip your hand between your bodies, seeking out your most sensitive spot. You release a loud groan at the contact, pussy clenching around his cock, which earns a moan from the man above you.

“Jae,” you whisper, loving the taste of his name on your lips. “You’re so good to me-”

“You deserve it,” he assures you, a hand coming down to your hip, pinning you exactly where he wants you while you work yourselves closer and closer to the edge. 

He’s fucking you harder now, but it still feels like making love, and your free hand reaches to tangle in his hair, pulling him from your throat so you can feel his lips on yours again.

You love the way you’re both moaning freely now, and his sounds only add to your pleasure. 

“I’m close,” you tell him, dragging your tongue across his lip and earning a loud groan. 

“Me too,” he breathes heavily. “You feel so good-”

“Just what the doctor ordered,” you joke, and Jaehyun lets out a small laugh.

“Exactly,” he agrees. “Sex with the love of your life daily, for a week, think you can handle that?”

“Jae,” you whisper. “I’m the love of your life?”

“I’d like to think so.” 

He’s being so soft, so vulnerable, and you wonder how long he’s been thinking about this. 

In your relationships, you’ve always been the first one to say ‘I love you,’ the first one to be in your feels- and now you know what it’s like to be on the other side of that. He’s confident in you, confident in your connection, and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“I love you too,” you confess, and it feels so right- none of your other love confessions in life have ever felt like this, and you know it must be true.

Jaehyun groans loudly. “I’m gonna cum, baby, you really know how to sweet talk a guy-”

“I’m gonna cum too,” you tell him, gasping against his lips while you rub your clit harder. 

“Cum with me, baby,” Jaehyun says softly, kissing you while you both reach your highs.

Your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, and you moan loudly together, tongues dancing while your bodies move fluidly, like they were made to move. 

Nothing has ever felt this natural, and your orgasm is all consuming because of it.

Your entire body is tingling with emotion and pleasure, and you can feel that the racer has goosebumps, letting out a small shiver while he fucks you through it. 

It’s as if he’s the very air you need to breathe, and you’ve been deprived for so long- there’s a clarity with him, and everything is all the more intense because of it.

Jaehyun groans as you both come down from your highs, and his motions slowly come to a stop, until he’s simply laying on top of you, lips still pressed to your own.

You kiss for a while more, fingers moving away from your clit so you can tangle both hands in his soft hair, keeping him where he is.

“Stay here tonight,” Jaehyun whispers, pulling away from you to look down at your face.

“Stay here?” you repeat.

“Yeah, stay with me. Please.”

You’ve never slept over with him, never passed out after sex in his arms-

“Okay,” you nod.

“I’m just going to get rid of this condom, and then we can cuddle or something,” he says, in a way that’s almost shy. 

You watch him, endeared as he disposes the condom and returns to join you, slipping under the covers and holding out his arms expectantly. You move closer, careful about his injured ribs, and you rest your head against his shoulder while he pets your hair.

“I’m going to tell Johnny,” you say. 

“Really?” 

“Uh huh,” you nod, feeling very confident with your decision. “You just told me you think I’m the love of your life, Jae. We’ve already been hiding this for months, and I don’t want to hide anymore.”

“I don’t want to hide either,” he agrees. 

“So it’s settled,” you smile. “I’ll tell Johnny, and he’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” Jaehyun admits. “I thought about it so many times, but I always figured you’d want to keep it a secret from your brother. That guy has some anger issues.”

“Says the dude that tried to punch him today.”

“After he hit me with his car,” Jaehyun points out.

“You have me there,” you concede with a laugh. 

“I love you, Lil Suh,” he says suddenly, and it makes you hold him tighter, tucking your face against his shoulder.

“I love you too…” you put on your Mark’s announcer voice, “the man of the evening, the winner of the last race-”

“I lost the last race,” Jaehyun points out.

“Not to me,” you tell him. “Tonight, I think we’re both winners.”

Jaehyun laughs. “You have me there.” 

Johnny stares at you in shock. “Sorry, I must have heard you wrong,” he laughs finally, “it just sounded like you told me you’re dating my arch nemesis.”

“Do I have to say it again?” you sigh.

Your brother’s smile drops. “You can’t be serious, Lil Suh.”

“I am though,” you say firmly. “I’m dating Jeong Jaehyun.”

“Don’t you know how dangerous it is to date street racers?” Johnny stands up abruptly. “They die all the time!”

“Not if you stop trying to kill him!” you shoot back. “Jeez, John, you act as if you’ve never had a girlfriend yourself.”

“I don’t date street racers,” Johnny says, refusing to see the parallel. 

“You know, all things considered,” you sigh, “you’re taking this much better than I thought you would.”

“Hyuck warned me this was going on,” Johnny cocks his head to the side. “Said you were the first person rushing to help Jae after the crash. I guess I’ve been processing it all weekend.”

“So you’re okay with me dating your supposed mortal enemy?” 

“I never said I’m okay with it,” Johnny points out. “Look, do I hate the guy? Yes. Is that hate founded on jealousy that he might one day be better than me in a car? Also yes. I just figure, if you’re dating him, you can convince him to get Yuta to change his underlights so they’re not purple anymore.”

“So that’s it?” you ask in shock. “That’s your condition in him dating me? That he changes his light colour?!”

“We all know purple is my aesthetic.” 

“Done, I’ll let him know right away.”

“You think he’s actually gonna change the colour?”

“Of course he’s going to change the colour, this guy loves me, Johnny-”

Your brother blinks at you. “He does?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“And you love him?”

You nod again, looking down.

“Then I’m happy for you, Lil Suh.” Johnny reaches out, setting a hand on your shoulder. “Just promise not to bring any Lil Jeong’s into the world anytime soon, yeah?”

You find yourself laughing, shaking your head at your stupid older brother. “I promise.”

“Good, because if he knocked you up, I’d really start to have problems, even if he does change his car colours.” Johnny assesses you. “You remember what mom always said about condoms-”

“Oh my god!” you scream. “Yes, Johnny! We’re being safe! Holy shit- this conversation is so over-”

“I wouldn’t be doing my brotherly duties if I didn’t make you grossed out. Think of me making that condom comment every time you sleep with him.” 

You’re quick to rush from the room, yelling back, “That doesn’t make things any better!” But you can’t help the smile on your face- you can’t believe that he’s okay with this, that he didn’t punch a hole through a wall-

You think about what Johnny had said, about the jealousy of another driver who could take him on.

Maybe after all of this, they might even be friends. Or, maybe more likely, you’ve simply watched too many Fast and Furious movies. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! There's just something about this Jae- I had so much fun writing this fic

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🔮 preview. Jaehyun presses one last kiss to your lips, grinning all the while. Then, when he pulls back, he flattens his hand over your mouth. “If you need me to let up,” he says, leaning forward so he can drag his tongue over the shell of your ear, “just lick my hand. Got it baby?” You nod, already enjoying the feeling of being held down with a hand over your mouth. You really can’t believe you’re doing this in your childhood bedroom with your stepmom sleeping just down the hall- But at the same time, if there was ever a man who would convince you to fuck inhibition and do this, it would be Jaehyun. He just has a hold over you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

cw/ tw. Unprotected/raw sex, sex while her mom sleeps down the hall, inklings of impreg/cum/being full kink, hand over her mouth, pussy/cock touching, praise, orgasm countdown, mutual orgasm, dry humping, aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby, angel.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.3k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Jaehyun x afab!reader

bonus

It’s the first time Jaehyun is meeting your extended family, at a summer barbecue, and so far, the conversation has stuck to general things like steak preferences and beef versus chicken. However, as you all take your seats at the long outdoor food table, your stepmom finally addresses your boyfriend. 

“So I hear you street race like Johnny,” she muses.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jaehyun nods respectfully. “It’s actually how I met your daughter.”

“I guess good things do come out of it then,” your mom sighs, leaning back in her chair, “and please, call me Myoryon or Mama Suh.” She assesses the way Jaehyun sits close to you, his hand holding yours on top of the table. “You two look good together.”

“Thank you, Mama Suh.” Jaehyun smiles softly. 

“She looks happy,” your stepmother continues. “I’ve never seen her happy like this.”

“Then I guess I’m doing my job right,” Jaehyun gives your hand a small squeeze and Johnny lets out a puking sound.

“I’m going to lose my appetite,” your stepbrother warns.

“I already have,” Hyuck nods, pushing his food away. “Not that your cooking isn’t amazing, Mama Suh.”

“It’s alright,” your mom assures him. “I understand jealousy can upset anyone’s stomach.”

“Jealousy?!” Hyuck bellows, and Johnny lets out a loud laugh.

“When was the last time you brought a girl over?” Mama Suh questions, smiling softly even while digging into your brother’s best friend.

Hyuck sputters, tongue tied.

“And how about you, Johnny?” She turns her gaze to him. “If I remember correctly, you’ve called a few times about some arch nemesis being a better driver than you- I assume this arch nemesis is Jaehyun.”

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[celianity]

Movie Night

Jordan Li x Reader

Prompt: having your nemesis attend your roommates' movie night takes a turn when some unresolved desires flare back up

Warnings: cursing, mentions of smut

Word count: 1.246

Author's note: would anyone be up for a continuation? _________________________________________

“You seriously bought sour cream and onion?” Emma eyes the bag of chips in Marie’s hand like it is a nuclear bomb.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you the snack police?”

“It’s just a movie night, guys. No need to get at each other’s throats.” You try to be the voice of reason, but you are one pointless argument away from combusting into flames.

The drinks are wrong. The snacks are wrong. The placement of seating (for which you bared responsibility) is wrong. Well, there are only so many options to arrange the furniture in a dorm room.

“Shut up,” your roommates respond in unison.

“Nice to see that you can agree on something.” Emma is glaring daggers at you.

On some level, you understand their motives for organizing this night to hang out like normal teenagers for a change.

Things at the school have been slowly going downhill while you and your friends are still in the dark about most of the details. Too many questions, too little answers.

You can’t shake the feeling that that’s the motto for tonight too, but you wouldn’t dare to say that out loud. Marie would probably strangle you with her blood powers.

So, you have no choice but to suppress your annoyance, pull up an action movie on the flat screen TV by the door and fluff the pillows on Emma’s bed one last time.

Marie hands you a bowl of chips while announcing that Andre and Cate will not be the only ones attending tonight’s comfortable activities. Her lopsided smile does not soften the blow in the slightest like intended.

“Are you kidding me?” you groan out in frustration. “You can’t just invite my nemesis into my fucking bedroom.”

Marie shrugs her shoulders. “Technically, it’s our bedroom, so I’m allowed to invite whoever I please.”

Emma rushes to Marie’s defense, “Maybe that’s a good thing. Keep your friends close, but your enemies even closer. Understanding them better might help you finally break into the Top Five.”

You intend to outrank Jordan Li with talent and power.

Not by studying their profile in the flickering light of a movie.

Not by watching their fingers grasp for the last crumbs of chips in the bowl.

And certainly not by wondering what they might be wearing to such a casual event. A tiny voice in the back of your head suggests a pair of grey sweatpants and you suddenly feel the urge to punch yourself in the face.

Instead, you hurry to build up that protective wall in your mind to hold back the quickly resurfacing memory fragments.

Hot breath on your swollen lips. Curious fingers, tracing patterns on a toned stomach, muscles tensing under your touch, wandering southwards. Feeling their need on your fingertips. Feeling your own, searing in the pit of your stomach. Hitching, matching breaths.

Oh, for fucks sake, Marie, what have you done?

---

You loathe feeling weak but that was exactly what pushed you into Jordan’s arms one lonely night a few days ago.

After failing yet again to access the full potential of your powers and expressing your frustration about the matter cursing like a sailor, you were looking for a distraction to blow off some steam.

And there they were, hastily typing away on their phone in the locker room of the training facility.

“Sounds like you have a shitty night too,” they observe, back turned to you, pulling their hair together into a ponytail.

When your eyes finally meet in the dimly lit room, you both know this is inevitable.

---

The movie’s quite entertaining, but you have to resist the urge to continuously let your eyes wander to Emma’s bed where Jordan occupies the spot at the edge, farthest away from you.

Emma and Marie block your view a bit with their legs upright.

From your own spot in the desk chair next to the bed, you restrain from craning your neck.

Andre and Cate are on the floor in front of you, totally engrossed by the plot of the film.

Of course, Jordan’s wearing those damn sweatpants, leaving little to the imagination. They waltzed in here, all tall and lean frame, running a hand through their short dark hair, flexing their bicep in the process.

You received a barely noticeable smirk in exchange for a pointed look.

---

Your staring’s getting obvious.

Your phone screen lights up in the dark, earning an annoyed sigh from Marie. At first, you don’t recognize the unknown number, but it doesn’t take you long to connect the dots.

Stealing phone numbers now? That’s really depressing.

You dim the brightness of your display and roll your chair back as quietly as possible to further shield if from prying eyes.

Must be able to contact you in the event of an emergency.

You frown, catching a glimpse of Jordan’s fingers typing again. Their irritatingly pretty face illuminated by soft blue light.

You’ve been avoiding me.

You’re not sure where this conversation is going, so you try to put an end to it as fast as possible.

I’m a busy person.

And I’m fucking sick of it.

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard, afraid to make a wrong move that would burst this bubble of sudden tension.

That sounds like a you problem.

You take the safe route, hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

Maybe you’ve trouble remembering, but you came on to me. Practically ambushing me in the dead of night.

Oh, fuck you.

Yeah, I’d hope that’s what you plan on doing tonight.

You ignore the heat rising in your cheeks and begin typing again. Two can play this game.

If you ask nicely. I recall you’re good at begging.

Jordan’s laughter merges into an awkward coughing fit and you have to bite your tongue when Emma offers them a glass of water.

Getting a reaction fuels your… ambition. You’re getting bolder, tired of tiptoeing around the topic.

You know what else I recall? A fucking sleepless night after getting interrupted by that janitor. The imprints of your fingers all over my skin, between my legs, deep inside. Wishing every curve and hard edge of you up against me again in the dark. And no goddamn release.

The images come crashing down like a wave and you shift your weight, parting your thighs slightly, needing to get out of your own skin.

Jordan is catching onto your drift.

The image of you kneeling in front of me seared itself onto my brain. Those soft lips parted, ready to take every goddamn inch. I still feel your hair strands around my fingers.

Out of the corner of your eye, in the flickering light of the TV, Jordan suddenly switches to their female form.

“That’s it, I’ve had enough,” Emma declares, startling everyone in their seats.

Andre pauses the movie, him and Cate turning to see what she is on about.

You hide your knowing grin behind a yawn. It is a small victory, but at what cost? You’re itching to tear your clothes along with your skin from your burning body.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I wish to be excluded from this narrative until you two have sorted it out. Emotionally, physically, or whatever.”

The silence is deafening. Almost guiltily, Jordan puts their phone aside, you follow suit.

“It’s like watching a movie in the middle of a fucking porn shoot. Now, if everyone agrees to behave themselves, can we continue, please?”

[champagnedstappen]

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader. This is a simple Christmas blurb. ;)

Perhaps his skin becomes so much lighter is because the colour of snow. There's theory where someone's skin is usually getting more light if the background is also light and not dark. Maybe the theory also works on him. Because in your eyes, he looks more... How can you say it? Glowing mayhaps.

You look at him thoughtfully, when you thought this man couldn't be more fine, then he always proved it. Clearly this is one of his moments. He looks at you, abandoning his skiing pole on the ground full of snow. You're shivering, sure you're using many layers, but holy shit, you're not used to cold temperatures. Clearly will never be.

"Mon cœur... Are your still shivering?" He asks. You are about to scoff, not enjoying any questions from him while he asked it with hint of humour—the urge to laugh at you, you can see it on his eyes, you know him too well anyway.

As he try reaching you while walking, leaving his pole with his friends—having conversation about skiing you clearly don't understand about, you're kicking some of the snow on the ground. You should be enjoying the trip. Last year, Charles tried to get you on board on the trip, but failed at the attempt since you were so against the cold temperatures, knowing how bad you can be.

You snap jokingly, well you can't be mad at him nonetheless. "What do you think, Leclerc?" At that, he laughs and finally standing in front of you. Hands on your waist, creating some patterns you don't really pay attention to in this situation.

"My love, I'm not laughing. I'm fully concerned," he continues. Making his face to full acting, trying to look like he's not going to make fun of you. Yet his eyes are soft, looking at you like you're his favourite person to be with, like you're all that matter. Making you knees buckle.

It's your turn to laugh before sighing. "I don't know why you asked me to be part of the trip. I can't even do anything, I'm only slowing you and the guys."

His green eyes—which you've noticed since you first met looking straight at you. There's some frowns that you hate so much. During the season, you knew how much pressure he had. Ferrari battling for the World Constructor Championship added to his shoulder, making it a cherry on top, you'd say.

After Abu Dhabi, his mood worsened. Loosing the title to McLaren certainly made his mind wander over something not certain and useless in your perspective. He kept blaming himself, thinking all What-Ifs, if only he did this, if only he didn't, if only he was better.

You hate it. You think his frown and depressive stare are your biggest nemesis. Something that you wish Avengers could fight like when they fought against Thanos.

You remember those days where you couldn't attend the Grand Prix, having jobs you needed to be at, he called you after the free practice, qualifying, hours after race—especially after bad results, he tends to be alone after bad race, not wanting to throw some tantrums or putting his anger at you. It leaves some bad spots on your emotions, seeing him so sad and blaming himself adding your personal problems with the sports.

You just want this trip to be his healing list. You don't want to worsen his days by making his holiday worse than ever.

Yet he shrugs it off. "Baby, what are you taking about? I only agreed to this winter trip so we can have our time together. If you didn't agree, I wouldn't too. I'd rather stay at home, maybe doing something funny while decorating Christmas tree with you, ma chérie."

These are the moments where you are sure that before you meet him, you never understood the situation of love. Back in the days you only think that love was impossible for you. Because in your mind, you thought, what could be love from you? There's nothing special. You're just... You. You're no model, you're no extravaganza, you're... No special.

But then there's interesting Monégasque who does anything to make you feel loved. Who's every actions makes you like you're everything. Who's actions are calculated, proofing how he would do anything for you.

Just, maybe, if you are loved too after you met him.

He continues. "We can stay in any city that you want. Summer, winter, any season doesn't matter. And like other every cities than exist in this world, there is city in my heart where you are its only population."

"Oh, Charles Leclerc. You're a fucking simp. Now teach me."

Yes, this moment definitely on your 'He's the proof where I am loved too' list.

"و في قلبي مدينة كُل سُكانها أنتي.'

"And there is a city in my heart where you are its only population." By Mahmoud Darwish.

[kamaluhkhan]

COMPLICATED

LUST — part iv of we'll write sins not tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 8.9k summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;( author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡

♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne

i. 

in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.

which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.

it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.

"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?" 

you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response.  it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.

after another beat of silence, you take the lead.

“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”

“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.

a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.

“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”

“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.

“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests. 

almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same. 

with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.

you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:

“it’s not her.”

he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.

for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters. 

according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you. 

“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — " 

annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —

well, percy can’t help but admire you even more. 

"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”

“everything else?”

you look at percy like the answer is obvious. 

“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.” 

that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.

“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.” 

“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.” 

“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.” 

you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“what? you never told me that.” 

“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”

“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”

you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.

“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”

again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too. 

“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”

“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”

percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.

deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.

he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.

—

ii.

if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.

“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.

“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side. 

“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”

“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”

“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges. 

“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”

“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”

luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even. 

“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”

“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”

in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.

“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”

“i just want to be prepared.”

“prepared for what?”

luke hesitates. “just….the future.”

“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”

“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”

“oh my fucking gods — ”

grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults. 

when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him. 

and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles. 

lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.

that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.

then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst. 

like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods. 

“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”

luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.

“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”

you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.

and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.

“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”

grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory. 

he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.

—

iii. 

annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely. 

all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.

unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other. 

annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.

she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.

but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.

as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name. 

luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.

all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.

you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve. 

annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.

luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first. 

“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”

annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like. 

as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand. 

maybe that’s a good place to start. 

“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?" 

"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."

"would you go to school?"

you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.” 

“what about luke?”

your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."

"luke needs you."

you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask: 

“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”

and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry. 

“how did you —”

“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun. 

“well, nothing’s confirmed.”

you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”

annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.

"what's holding you back?"

“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares —  that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”

“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”

you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.

“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping." 

"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks. 

you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more. 

"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”

"oh," is all annabeth can say. 

“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."

annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it. 

before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.

luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.

when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again. 

"that sucks."

“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important." 

"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"

"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers.  "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”

“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”

the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs. 

“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”

you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight. 

"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.

annabeth hums.

"how much of that did you hear?" 

luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.

—

iv.

you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.

luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin. 

“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot. 

“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”

“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.

“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke. 

luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you. 

“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point. 

and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.

none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves. 

you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”

luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.” 

“they went alone?”

“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”

“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.” 

luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies. 

 “don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.

it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed. 

“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”

you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you. 

“nothing,” he answers instinctively. 

“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter. 

“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”

“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”

“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?” 

it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky. 

“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath  before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.

of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.

“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“noth—”

“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”

the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.

so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is. 

for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks. 

dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander. 

the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches. 

but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.

working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created. 

he did it for you, even if you won't understand.

he'd do anything for you.

so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch. 

—

v. 

in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.

gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned. 

you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm. 

“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers. 

“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”

“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”

a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for. 

“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke. 

for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him. 

and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense. 

you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through. 

“you never told me about your dad.”

ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.

you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it. 

“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.” 

you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.

“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.

“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”

“that’s….that’s different.” 

“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”

“which is?”

 you debate telling luke the truth. 

it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.

“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit. 

another pause, this time from the other side of the bed. 

“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”

you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.

“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”

“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”

in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling. 

“always so dramatic,” you tease.

deep down, you know you’re not much better.

luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.

it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t. 

truthfully, it still scares you.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”

you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.

"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."

he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.

"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?

"luke —"

"i have to sort it out on my own.”

"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”

another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything. 

eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:

"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up." 

"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."

you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.

"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."

luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more. 

"do you really mean that?"

his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away. 

“of course.” 

you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body. 

neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.

you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later. 

for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more. 

it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time. 

eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.  instinctively, you start rutting against him. 

“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong. 

luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin. 

“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”

“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”

you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”

“good girl.”

your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go. 

you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.

it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians. 

secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.

"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.

you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers." 

luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there. 

"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says: 

“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.

luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal. 

as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again. 

you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.

“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you." 

in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”

sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time. 

this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep. 

you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.

with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you. 

"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?" 

all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words. 

you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.

"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop." 

you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.

"y-yes, luke."

"are you mine?"

you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.

you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.

"i'm yours," you promise.

luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.

satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours. 

it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.

the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high. 

luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.

“did you just —” 

the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.

"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."

luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.

"you’re so fucking hot."

your heart flutters. 

“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.” 

he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating. 

“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "

"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself. 

maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do. 

you want more. you need more.

"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"

"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought. 

you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.

"shit. i don't have another one.”

"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.  

you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you. 

"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"

“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."

luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:

“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?

before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face. 

"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."

you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer. 

"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings. 

luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed. 

"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”

luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."

you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours. 

made for each other.

you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too. 

“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck. 

“don’t,” you command. 

“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.

“i just want to feel you this once.”

he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet. 

luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before. 

even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.  

this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.

wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —

 “are you okay?” 

his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.

you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach. 

"i didn't hurt you, did i?"

“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”

luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.

 “you’ve never said that before.”

“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.

luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.” 

your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.

“oh, shit.…” 

you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully. 

of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.

because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job. 

“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”

luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."

"you do?" your heart resumes its beating. 

"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”

“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”

“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"

"they like the smell of begging." 

luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek. 

"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t —”

“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”

you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words. 

the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would. 

the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast. 

luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face. 

evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.

outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.

luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place." 

you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.

"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes." 

the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards. 

"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.

you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips. 

"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."

luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:

"i love you."

your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.

because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.

you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed. 

it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.

no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.

just this.

[solar4seekstron]

Transformers Masterlist Movies

Introduction Movie/Series Oneshot Masterlist Weeks and Dates Indie Series Masterlist

Transformers One

Awakening: Transformers One x Cybertronian!Reader

(Content: 16+ 6 chapters +4 endings +one bonus)

Completed

Chapter One: No Matter What

Chapter Two: Map

Chapter Three: Traitor!

Chapter Four: Especially when he was unconscious!

Chapter Five: I’m Done Saving You.

Chapter Six: I Am Optimus Prime

Ending One: Optimus Prime

Ending Two: Megatron

Ending Three: Elita

Ending Four: B-127

Bonus+Ending Five: Deadlock

Bayverse Transformers

(Introduction)

Transformers 2007 x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

(6 Chapters -first hour skipped- +5 endings)

Chapter One: Beginnings 18+

Chapter Two: Sam and Mikaela

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

————————

Ending One: Optimus Prime

Ending Two: Bumblebee

Ending Three: Ironhide

Ending Four: Ratchet

Ending Five: Barricade

Ending Six: Sam

Revenge of the Fallen x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

(8 Chapters + 7 Ending)

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

Chapter Seven:

Chapter Eight:

————————

Ending One: Optimus Prime

Ending Two: Bumblebee

Ending Three: Ironhide

Ending Four: Ratchet

Ending Five: Sam

Ending Six: Sideswipe

Ending Seven: Mudflap and Skids

Dark of the Moon x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

(7 Chapters + 9 Endings)

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

Chapter Seven:

————————

Ending One: Optimus Prime

Ending Two: Bumblebee

Ending Three: Ironhide

Ending Four: Ratchet

Ending Five: Barricade

Ending Six: Sam

Ending Seven: Mirage

Ending Eight: Sideswipe

Ending Nine: Sentinel Prime

Ending Ten: Roadbuster

Ending Eleven: Leadfoot

Ending Twelve: Topspin

Age of Extinction x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

(8 Chapters -first 45 minutes skippe- +5 endings)

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

Chapter Seven:

Chapter Eight:

————————

Ending One: Optimus Prime

Ending Two: Bumblebee

Ending Three: Crosshairs

Ending Four: Drift

Ending Five: Cade

Ending Six: Lockdown

The Last Knight x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

(6 Chapters +5 endings)

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

————————

Ending One: Optimus Prime/Nemesis Prime

Ending Two: Bumblebee

Ending Three: Crosshairs

Ending Four: Drift

Ending Five: Cade

Ending Six: Hotrod

Ending Seven: Cogman (What? Don’t judge me mkay I like my short leprechaun. Don’t y’all lie that you don’t feel the same!)

———————————————————————————

Knightverse Transformers

(Introduction)

Bumblebee x Human!GN!Reader

(+6 Chapters Human Reader. Lmk if you want Cybertronian reader/Reader is seen as nonbinary but that’s just cause there’s “they/them” you can go ahead and see them as boy or girl too tho)

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

Rise of the Beasts x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

(7 Chapters +6 endings Note: I’m rewriting wheeljack. I’m sorry but I hate how he’s written and designed in the movie. Hate me if you want lol)

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

Chapter Seven:

————————

Ending One: Optimus Prime

Ending Two: Mirage

Ending Three: Noah

Ending Four: Bumblebee

Ending Five: Wheeljack

Ending Six: Elena

Ending Seven: Arcee

Bonus+ Ending Eight: Scourge

Rise of the Beasts x Human!GN!Reader

(7 Chapters +6 endings Note: I’m rewriting wheeljack. I’m sorry but I hate how he’s written and designed in the movie. He’ll be more like Prime Wheeljack. Hate me if you want lol. Reader is seen as nonbinary but that’s just cause there’s “they/them” you can go ahead and see them as boy or girl too tho)

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

Chapter Seven:

————————

Ending One: Optimus Prime

Ending Two: Mirage

Ending Three: Noah

Ending Four: Bumblebee

Ending Five: Wheeljack

Ending Six: Elena

Ending Seven: Arcee

Transformers: The Movie x

Cybertronian!GN!Reader

(Introduction)

(6 chapters +7 Endings)

Chapter One:

Chapter Two:

Chapter Three:

Chapter Four:

Chapter Five:

Chapter Six:

————————

Ending One: Rodimus Prime

Ending Two: Arcee

Ending Three: Springer

Ending Four: Ultra Magnus

Ending Five: Blurr

Ending Six: Perceptor

Ending Seven: Kup

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Could you write a hero who's broke af but is at the villians mansion taking care of them and despite being broke af they get every medicine every grocery villian requires and villian just breaks? Also, vil calls hero 'love'

The villain was where the hero had left them - on the couch, staring at the black screen of their TV.

"Did you know — this will blow your mind — that you can actually turn that thing on?" When the villain turned their head to look at them, the hero pointed at the hilariously large screen. "Or so I've been told."

"Is that so?" The villain's attention came back to the screen and the hero couldn't help but wonder if the villain's misery was growing from day to day.

The hero knew their nemesis loved to be active. They loved exercising, they loved causing trouble.

But ever since the house arrest and the ankle monitor was put on them, they had acted nearly depressed. If the hero hadn’t known them, they would have guessed it was due to their injuries.

A very messed up clavicle and a horribly cracked ankle were just two components of the entire cruel picture of bruises. According to the city, the hero was "the only person strong enough to detain" the villain.

Which didn't really bother the hero as much as the media wanted the public to believe. Hell, there were even petitions for people to sign to "protect" the hero from this incredibly dangerous mission that felt more like a vacation than anything to the hero themselves.

"You look tired," the hero said. "Would you like to take a nap?"

They left the groceries in the dining room and walked up to the couch but the villain was silent. Their eyes were still staring at the dark reflection of themselves. Without hesitation, the hero sat down next to them and debated if they should try to put their hand on the villain's thigh to comfort them.

Against their better judgment, they decided not to.

"You've been looking at that TV for like…30 minutes?" the hero said instead. "Have you eaten the breakfast I made for you?"

They hadn't. The hero had checked - but it didn't seem to matter. The villain didn't say anything.

"Look, I understand this isn't what you wanted. But I am trying to take care of you as best as I can. If you have any problems with your shoulder or if there's something else..."

Suddenly, the villain turned their head and looked at the hero. Under their eyes, the spreading dark circles were a little too visible to the hero.

"I..." The villain sounded absolutely exhausted. "I had this nightmare again."

"The one with me?"

"Yeah, but it was different, it's...ah, forget about it, love. It's stupid," the villain said. They leaned back against the pillows of the couch and closed their eyes as if they were concentrating on something.

However, the hero did notice the soft blush on their cheeks.

"That's for me to determine."

"It's really stupid." The villain looked at them again and when the hero looked into their eyes, they were sure they would have missed the villain's next words. Almost embarrassed, they stared at their own hands. Getting lost in the villain's eyes came a little too easy to them. It wasn't like the hero wanted or provoked it. It just happened. And there was nothing they could do about it.

After all, this was their job. They were getting paid to be here, even though it left them with a really bad aftertaste. Somewhere deep down, they wished they could have done this without receiving payment in the first place. For the sake of compassion.

"Stupid is okay," the hero said. "I think talking about it could help, I think...I think you carry a lot of stuff around and never got to share it with anyone. That's why it is gnawing on you. Especially now that you're injured and rely on someone else."

"You're my enemy, so I shouldn't tell you in the first place," the villain argued.

"Your dream was about me, so technically-" the hero raised an index finger "-I have the right to know about it."

The villain narrowed their eyes. "That's not how it works, love."

If the villain didn't want to talk, the hero supposed they couldn't make them. Obviously, they were familiar with a lot of interrogation techniques but the villain was neither a suspect nor a threat at the moment. The hero sighed softly.

Work occupied their own mind to a nearly worrying degree. Money was a big issue, big enough to give them troubles with falling asleep at night. They guessed that was their own little package to carry around.

But they didn't think it was comparable to the villain's. What they had read in the reports about their childhood...eventually, the hero had stopped reading because it was too painful to even grasp.

"I, uh...got you some stuff. Some medicine, some cookies. Nothing big, really."

The villain's eyes widened.

"Did you pay with the cash I put on the table for you?"

"No, I used my credit card," the hero said. "Wait, just let me..."

They stood up, grabbed the grocery bag and sat down on the carpet of the living room, right in front of the villain. They unpacked every single item carefully and explained how heroically they had fought for the last box of chocolates (which wasn't nearly as dramatic as they framed it to be) or how they nearly died of a heart attack when their card got declined the first time (they merely sweated a little bit more).

"You bought all of this for me?" The villain stared at the chocolates, the painkillers. It seemed like their fingers were shaking a little.

"Well, I wouldn't mind if you shared."

And then, finally, the villain smiled gently.

"You're so stupid." Before the hero knew it, their enemy's fingers pushed hair out of the hero's vision. "You should have used the cash, love."

The hero stared up at them, one of their arms still in the sling, the other still hovering there, their fingers brushing the hero's jawline.

"I wanted to buy this for you. With my own money," the hero said. No. They admitted it. "I know it's not much, but I wanted to make you a little happier."

"I'm not unhappy here with you," the villain said. "You don't make me unhappy. This dream was just a lot and my shoulder really fucking hurts. That's all."

They pulled away and suddenly, the hero felt a little colder. Once again, they feared this wasn't all there was to it.

But it also wasn't their place to poke around.

"Tell me if there is anything I can do for you, though. Okay?"

"I will," the villain said. The hero stood up, not entirely sure if they were actually helpful. They were good at tending wounds but the villain had problems with asking for help. They were good at cooking but the villain didn't seem to have any appetite. They took in a deep breath and before they could reach for the groceries, the villain grabbed their hand. "Okay, I...I kissed you in my dream."

The hero's eyebrows jumped up. "Oh?"

"And it's scaring me. I can't afford those feelings. I can't...I shouldn't want you."

"Shouldn't?"

"I shouldn't." The villain let go and stood up. They cleared their throat. "Eh...do you need help with the groceries?"

And that was the end of that conversation.

For now.

[little-diable]

I'd rather be with you – Spencer Reid (smut)

I won't lie, I love a good enemies to lovers Spencer fic. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader and Spencer hate one another, at least in the moments where they're not tangled beneath the sheets.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (m), face fucking, bickering, love confession, enemies to lovers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (2.3k words)

Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every thrust, with every moan leaving her as if it was her last. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every jerk of his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into her. Her necklace bounced off her naked chest with every call off her name, with every tug on the small pendant dangling between her breasts. 

The necklace was a reminder, a reminder whenever Spencer’s eyes snapped down to it, momentarily distracted from the case they were working on – just for a second or two, though seconds too long for a man with a brain like Spencer‘s. She was his nemesis, the one that has taught him what it means to hate somebody, but yet, in the moments where he fucked her on the nearest surface, he couldn’t remember the hate she elicited inside of him. 

“Spencer? Shit, I truly fucked your brains out last night, huh?” A dark chuckle left (y/n) as she leaned back against the table, arms crossed in front of her chest. A growl left the smart man, murmuring something under his breath she couldn’t pick up on. And yet her smirk didn’t waver, glued to her lips. 

Before Spencer could reply with snarky words rolling off his tongue, Derek had stepped into the room that had been assigned to them. His eyes were focused on his phone, speaking to Penelope with a bright smile – a sight that left (y/n) fawning over the two. Whenever she watched Penelope and Derek interact, she felt some kind of hope burning inside of her, a kind of hope that left her praying that somebody will eventually treat her with this much love and respect. 

“I’ll talk to you later, babygirl.” Derek hung up the call before his eyes first found (y/n)’s and then Spencer’s, smirking at the two profilers. “Good to see that you didn’t kill one another while I was gone. Hotch wants you two to visit the unsub’s childhood home again.” 

“But we’ve been there this morning?” Spencer cut into the conversation before (y/n) could ask the same question. An annoyed huff left her, very well knowing what he was trying to do, taking away the focus from the woman he couldn’t stand, the woman he had always detested, hated since the first case they had worked together. 

“Hotch wants us to go through the photo albums again, maybe we’ve missed something, and why not send our two superbrains to go through the pictures. It’d take the rest of us way too long to do it.” (Y/n) had already reached for her jacket before Derek had finished his sentence, watching with amusement glistening in his eyes how Spencer followed her out of the room, probably already plotting over a new chance to finally murder her. 

……

“Oh fuck, fuck, Spencer.” Her moans echoed through the foggy bathroom, back pressed against his front as he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. The warm water kept streaming down their bodies, washing away the reminders of the past day, of their arguments, and their bottled emotions. 

His teeth left marks on the spot where her neck met her shoulders, drawing pained whines from (y/n). She couldn’t speak up, couldn’t remember how to speak, fully distracted by the feeling of his cock nudging her swollen spot with every thrust. She was putty in his hands, allowing him to do as he pleased. No matter the spiteful words she wanted to speak, riling him up even further, she kept quiet, not daring to push Spencer away when she was so very close to her release.

“Look at that, did I finally manage to shut you up?” His words were rough, dripping with a mean undertone that momentarily managed to rip her out of her state.

“Fuck you, Spencer, don’t act as if–” her rambling was cut short by the feeling of Spencer pulling away, leaving her empty. (Y/n) clumsily turned around in his grasp, staring up at the man with wide eyes, wondering what was about to happen.

“Onto your knees, it seems like you still haven’t learned your lesson.” She struggled to drop to her knees, holding onto him as the water kept cascading down his back. Spencer forced his cock into her mouth, making her choke on the air lingering inside her lungs. He fucked her mouth with moans clawing through him, sounds that left her swollen bundle of nerves pulsing. 

Spencer had always been rough with her, taking the upper hand she claimed around their team, stealing his title of being smarter than them all. He had detested her from the start, jealous of the way she managed to interact with the team, how she seemed to know how to handle every situation, no matter her high IQ. Perhaps it truly was jealousy that had pushed him away, not understanding how someone with an IQ almost as high as his didn’t struggle to with simple interactions like he did, how she made it seem so effortlessly easy. 

“You act as if you’re so much better, as if you don’t give a shit about me. But let me tell you something, doll,” a groan left Spencer as one of her hands found his cock, holding onto the part he hadn’t pushed down her throat just yet. “You are nothing special.” 

Spencer was too far gone to pick up on the hurt expression tugging on her features, no longer focusing on the sounds he made, on the way his cock rested on her tongue, all she could focus on were his words, the spiteful insults. Her heart skipped a few beats, unsure how to react, not understanding what he was trying to tell her. 

“They don’t see through your pathetic games, you’re nothing but an imposter, but trust me, I always win, every single game.” His cock twitched in her mouth, about to cum down her throat, about to force her to swallow his every drop. Perhaps she deserved being treated like this after the things she had said today, the way she had made fun of him - whatever it had been, (y/n) was now paying the price.

He came with a moan, head rolling back, hand gripping her hair. (Y/n) didn’t dare move, unable to stop thinking of the words he had spoken, of the insults he had thrown his way. She barely noticed how he pulled away, how he reached a hand out of her to take, pulling her back to her feet. 

No further words were spoken between the two, she didn’t give him a chance to fuck her again, to push her over the edge. She left the shower before he could touch her again, quickly redressing herself to find her way to her hotel room. 

……

The sound of somebody softly knocking on her door forced her eyes away from her book. She needed a few seconds to snap into motion, wondering who wanted to speak to her that late in the evening, wondering if it was Hotch to tell her that they had a breakthrough with their case. But the sight of Spencer waiting in front of her door left her frozen in her movements, looking at him with raised eyebrows and confusion swimming in her pupils.

“Can I?” (Y/n) stepped aside, allowing him to find his way into the room, walking towards the bed she had been laying on moments ago. They were engulfed by an uncomfortable silence, looking at one another to try and figure out what he was doing, why he had found his way to her. 

“It’s late Spencer, what are you doing here?” Her voice had an unfamiliar undertone to it, urged on by the uncertainty she felt, still focusing on the angry words he had spoken earlier. He cleared his throat, gaze flickering down to his slender fingers, fumbling with them as his mind kept racing, trying to speak up, trying to say the words he struggled to speak out loud. 

“I haven’t met many people who have an IQ that’s way above the ordinary, well, at least not normal people who aren’t killers. I am not used to feeling intimidated, but I am used to being the one people make fun of, I am used to feeling alone and to being the outsider. But it had never been like that with the team, they’ve accepted me and the way I am, I didn’t have to prove myself like I had been forced to do before meeting them. But then you joined the team, and suddenly I was once again back to being caught in a fight of proving myself. For the first time in years I no longer feel like I fit in.” His words made tears well up in her eyes, slowly sitting down next to the rambling man with her hand finding his warm one. (Y/n) squeezed his hand, encouraging Spencer to keep on speaking, to let go of the bottled up words he had tried to swallow down for the past months. 

“Hating you is so much easier than accepting that you’re everything I’ve always wanted. Hating you is so much easier than forcing myself to accept that I don’t have any reason to be jealous of you, than accepting that you’re perfect for me. You’re everything I’ll never be.” A shaky breath left Spencer, once again allowing the thick silence to wrap itself around the two. She needed quite a few moments to speak up, to see through the information he had just dumped on her.

“I knew that there was some kind of jealousy that left you to treat me like that, and I guess I gave in, I played the game instead of trying to figure out why you acted like that. I am sorry that I make you feel like that, Spence. But fuck, you truly have nothing to be jealous of. You’re so much more than just a smart brain, and whoever won’t see that must be blind.” Their eyes met, making a small smile tug on Spencer’s lips before he titled his head down to softly kiss her. The gasp leaving (y/n) allowed him to deepen the kiss, hand letting go of hers to pull her into his lap. 

“I am sorry for being such an asshole who is heavily crushing on you.” A laugh broke through (y/n) at his words, forehead falling against his. 

“I am sorry for being such a bitch who is heavily crushing on you.” (Y/n) found herself being pushed down on the mattress, with Spencer laying half on her and half on the mattress, lips locked in a loving kiss. One of his hands started to wander, finding its way under her shirt, down to her panties.

“I owe you at least two orgasms, don’t I?” She couldn’t reply, interrupted by a moan as his fingers pushed her panties aside, finding her pulsing clit. Spencer moved his fingers just the way she needed him to, touching her like he had done numerous times before. Her heart was pounding, mind hazy and filled with lust, purely focusing on Spencer.

“I want to cum on your cock, fuck me again, please Spence.” He shuffled around, pulling her panties down before he freed his hard cock. Neither of them wanted to waste any time, set on properly fucking, needing to feel one another close. (Y/n) watched him spit into his hand, lubing himself up before he pushed into her. 

(Y/n)’s moans spurred him on, arms finding their way around his neck, tugging him down for a greedy kiss. He fucked her ruthlessly, though without any anger guiding him, allowing his heart to finally give into the love he felt for her. No longer were they speaking hateful words, no longer were they set on making one another pay for their teasing, fucking like lovers for the first time. 

“I love you, so fucking much.” His words left (y/n) gasping in surprise, eyes rolling back into her head the second his skilled fingers found her bundle of nerves. Her sounds made him feel as if he had ascended to heaven, engulfed by the sounds no human had ever been fortunate enough to hear. And even as she spoke the loving three words he had just spoken, Spencer couldn’t stop himself from staring down on her.

Spencer picked up his pace, fucking her into the mattress like a mad man, set on leaving marks that would stay for eternity, never fading, always renewed by his wandering fingers and lips. He marveled at (y/n), hoping that he’d never part from her again, he wouldn’t survive being away from her, needing her like a shot of insulin to save his heart. 

“Fuck, feels so good.” His cock stretched her perfectly, forcing her walls to adjust as he kept pounding into her, not holding back with his lips pulled into a smirk and his eyes staring down on her. She clawed her fingernails into his skin, drawing blood from the marks she left, leaving Spencer torn between a hiss and a moan.

The second he added more strength to his touch, rubbing her clit faster than before, she gave in, tumbling over the edge without another warning. His name left her over and over again, guiding him through his own high. She felt him paint her walls white, heard him choke on his moans, saw him collapse on top of her.

And for the first time since they’ve started sleeping with one another, neither of them felt the need to escape, to hide away from the other.

[assortedcriminality]

snippet #1 - thursday

Civilian had been standing on the doorstep of one of the most wanted criminals in the city for more than ten minutes now. Their right hand was in a fist, as though they were about to knock, but were stuck in a loop of perpetual hesitation. In their left they clutched an unmarked envelope.

They closed their eyes and took a deep breath. Just knock, they told themself. Get it over with and fucking knock.

But they’d only just raised their fist and swung it towards the door when it flew open, revealing only darkness. From inside, an aggressive hand grabbed Civilian’s wrist and pulled them into the shadowed hall. They yelped, the sound instantly silenced as fingers closed around their throat and their back slammed into a wall. The door closed ominously behind them, seemingly on its own.

“Villain, please-“ Civilian choked out before the criminal’s grip tightened and their words were cut off.

“You come to my personal address, stand at the door for ten minutes, and then call me Villain?” They hissed. “Who the hell are you?”

“I…I’m a m-messenger.” Their voice came in gasps as they struggled for air, right hand tugging ineffectively at Villain’s arm.

“For who?” Villain’s eyes were cold, unforgiving.

They couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t think. They could barely even manage to whisper the two syllables they needed. “Hero.”

The fingers disappeared from their neck. Civilian collapsed to the floor, coughing violently. Every shaky inhale hurt, pain radiating from their abused throat. That was going to leave a bruise.

A light flickered on, illuminating the entrance hall. Villain leaned casually against the door and looked down at their uninvited guest. “So… you work for Hero.”

They nodded, wincing at the discomfort the sudden movement caused. “I’m their assistant.”

The criminal snorted. “Do they even pay you for that?”

Civilian glanced up in surprise, momentarily forgetting about the pain. “What? Of course they do. It’s a full-time job.”

“I suppose you just wait hand and foot all day long?” Villain asked with a raised eyebrow, voice dripping with disdain. “Do all their paperwork and feed them peeled grapes?”

They flushed, standing up and brushing dust off of their pants. “I didn’t come here to be insulted. Or strangled, for that matter. Hero sent me with a message for you.”

“My sincerest apologies, Mx. Hero’s Assistant.” Villain crossed their arms, annoyed. “Why didn’t they come pay me a visit themself?”

“…I guess they’re busy today,” Civilian said, massaging the side of their neck. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. They said to give this to you.” They held out the envelope.

Suspicion crossed the criminal’s face, but they took it and flipped it over. It was secured with a wax seal imprinted with Hero’s famous insignia. The seal was perfectly intact. “You haven’t read this?”

The assistant shook their head. “Hero told me it was for your eyes only.”

After a moment of hesitation, Villain broke the wax and pulled a folded piece of ivory stationary out of the envelope.

Dear Villain,

I’m holding up my end of the deal. This is Civilian, my assistant. I heard you need a hostage for next Thursday. Feel free to use them. I think you two will get along. Oh, and you can threaten and maim them, of course, but I’d prefer you didn’t cause them fatal harm. They make a damn good cup of coffee, and I’d hate to deprive the world of that. Looking forward to rescuing them from your clutches ;)

The message was signed with Hero’s insignia. Villain stared at the crisp, professional handwriting for a full minute, rereading it at least four times to make sure they understood. When they’d bargained with Hero and asked for help with a scheme, this kind of assistance wasn’t exactly what they had in mind. But they couldn’t not accept it, Hero would flip out, and their rivalry was already on thin ice. Even though they were a terrible person, Villain couldn’t afford to lose them as a nemesis. Their credibility as a high-tier villain would take a big hit. It wasn’t like-

“Can I go now?” Civilian asked tentatively, interrupting the criminal’s train of thought. “Sorry, it’s just that I have a ton of work to get to today, and Hero doesn’t like it when I’m late on assignments.”

Villain sighed, turning the lock on the door. “No, apparently. Look, I’m really sorry about this, but you can’t leave. At least, not until Thursday.”

The new captive blinked. “What? Wh-no, I’m not staying here, are you crazy? Why would I do that?”

“Your boss just got you involved in our…feud,” they hedged. “It’s complicated, but we made a deal, and for some reason, they gave me… you… for their end.”

“What?” Civilian yelped. “No! They wouldn’t—why would they-?”

“I’m sorry, Civilian.” They took a step forward, spreading their hands. “I have no idea why your boss does half the things they do. They’re a completely different person when they’re not around the press or anyone they work with.”

Civilian stepped back. “How do you know my name?”

Villain looked down at the paper in their hand as if they’d forgotten it was there. “Oh. It was in the letter-“

“Give me that.” They snatched the letter out of Villains hand before they could protest, eyes scanning the page. When they finished reading, they slowly looked up. Their expression was deadly calm. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Civilian, I didn’t have anything-“

“They said you could maim me-“

“-they’re insane, I-“

“-damn good cup of coffee-“

“-not my fault-“

“-can’t believe this-“

“Civilian!” Villain finally shouted, taking their captive’s hands. Civilian flinched instinctively, jerking away from the criminal. They stared at the floor, Hero’s letter held tightly in their fist.

Villain cursed themself internally. “I’m sorry, I really am. I wish I could let you go.”

“So do it.” Civilian wouldn’t meet their gaze. “Nothing’s stopping you.”

“You don’t understand, Civilian,” they pleaded. “I need to stay Hero’s nemesis, otherwise my career would be over. If I let you go, Hero would instantly cut me off.”

Civilian struggled for words. What could they say? It was clear that Hero didn’t care about them. Hell, they’d orchestrated this whole thing. Villain didn’t have anything to do with it, save their criminal nature. But they had nearly killed Civilian earlier, which lost them some points.

They looked up at Villain and sighed when they saw the expression on their ‘captor’s’ face.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll stay until Thursday.”

Villain’s face broke into a relieved smile. “Okay. Good. I have a spare room you can stay in. Just make me a list of everything you need and I’ll get it for you.”

“Can I use your phone?” they asked. “People will worry if I don’t text them back for three days.”

“You don’t have yours?”

“Hero said to leave it behind.”

Villain snorted, pulling their phone out of their pocket and unlocking it with a press of their thumb before handing it over. “Typical.”

“I’m quitting on Friday,” Civilian mumbled as they typed out a brief message to their friends and family that they were taking a break from screens for a little while.

“I’m not sure Hero would take that well.”

Civilian gave the phone back, looking straight into Villain’s eyes. “Well, that’s not my problem. None of this is my problem.”

“I know. I’m sorry you got mixed up in all this. Hero should know better than to involve regular people in our business. This is between me and them.” Villain’s gaze was intense, inescapable. “I promise I won’t do anything to hurt you. I’ll do what I can to… make it up to you, somehow.”

The two stared at each other in silence for a moment.

Civilian was the first to break it. “Well, I’m still pissed at you for throttling me, so you’d better get started on that now,” they said, brushing past Villain into the apartment beyond the front hall. “Where’s my room?”

Some of the tension dissipated from the air. Villain let out a nervous laugh, following a few steps behind their ‘hostage’ and trying to school themself back into their normal, devil-may-care self. “Uh, second door on the left. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’m going out for a few hours, but I’ll order something for dinner. Is Chinese okay?”

“Sure,” came the response, ridiculously casual considering the situation.

“Okay.” Villain made sure Civilian would be fine on their own before gathering themself and heading out the door, locking it securely behind them. They pulled their hood over their head, lingering on the doorstep for a minute to take a deep breath and think through their plans. There was a lot to do before Thursday.

word count: 1464

[ineffectualdemon]

I love nemesis relationships where it's properly dark and obsessive

The idea of a character being so obsessed with someone that it doesn't matter if they hate them as long as they think of them and them alone

Where their target holds a knife to their throat and promises to kill them horribly and instead of fear or anger or anything like that a wonderful sense of joy and satisfaction fills them

As if everything is right with the world as long as that person's eyes are on them

Even if they are burning with hatred and disgust

*chefs kiss* immaculate. No notes

[greenwitchcrafts]

October 2023 witch guide

Full moon: October 28th

New moon: October 14th

Sabbats: Samhain

October Hunter's Moon

Known as: Blood moon, drying rice moon, falling leaf moon, freezing moon, migrating moon, moon of the changing seasons, shedding moon, ten colds moon, winterfelleth & windermanoth

Element: Air

Zodiac: Libra & Scorpio

Nature spirits: Frost faeries & Plant faeries

Deities: Apollo, Astarte, Belili, Cernunnos, Demeter, Hathor, Herne, Horned God, Ishtar, Kore, Lakshmi & Mercury

Animals: Elephant, jackal, ram, scorpion & stag

Birds: Crow, heron & robin

Trees: Acacia, apple, cypress & yew

Herbs/Plants: Angelica, apple blossom, burdock, catnip, pennyroyal, sweet Annie, thyme & Uva ursi

Flowers: Calendula, cosmos & marigold

Scents: Apple blossom, cherry & strawberry

Stones: Amethyst, beryl, obsidian, opal, tourmaline & turquoise

Colors: Black, dark blue, Dark greens & purples

Energy: Artistic works, balance, creativity, harmony, inner cleansing, justice, karma, legal matters, mental stimulation, partnerships, reincarnation & uncovering mysteries or secrets

It is believed that this name originates from the fact that it was a signal for hunters to prepare for the upcoming cold winter by going hunting. This is because animals were beginning to fatten up in preparation for the winter season. Moreover, since fields had recently been cleared out under the Harvest Moon, hunters could easily spot deer and other animals that had come out to search for remaining scraps. Additionally, foxes and wolves would also come out to prey on these animals.

The earliest use of the term “Hunter’s Moon,” cited in the Oxford English Dictionary, is from 1710. Some sources suggest that other names for the Hunter’s Moon are the Sanguine or Blood Moon, either associated with the blood from hunting or the color of the changing autumn leaves. 

Samhain

Also known as: All Hallow's Eve,  Ancestor Night, Feast of Apples, Feast of Sam-fuim, Feast of Souls, Feast of the Dead, Geimhreadh, Hallowmass, Martinmass, Old Hallowmas, Pagan New Year, Samana, Samhuinn, Samonios, Shadowfest & Third Harvest

Season: Fall

Symbols: Apples, bats, besom(brooms), black cats, cauldrons, ghosts, gourds, jack-o-lanterns, pumpkins, scarecrows & witches

Colors: Black, gold, orange, silver & white

Oils/incense: Basil, cloves, copal, frankincense, gum mastic, heather, heliotrope, mint, myrrh & nutmeg

Animals: Bat, boar, cat cattle & dogs

Stones: Amber, anatase, black calcite, black obsidian, black tourmaline, brass, carnelian, clear quartz diamond, garnet, gold, granite, hematite, iron, jet, marble, pearl, pyrite, ruby, sandstone, sardonyx, smokey quartz, steel & tektite

Foods: Apples, ale, beef, cider, corm, fruits, garlic, gourds, grains, hazelnuts, herbal teas, mushroom, nettle, nuts, pears, pomegranates, pork, poultry, pumpkin pie, sunflower seeds, thistle, turnips & wine (mulled)

Herbs/plants: Acorn, Allspice, catnip, corn, dittany of Crete, hazel, mandrake, mugwort, mullien, oak leaves, pine, rosemary, sage, straw, tarragon, thistle, wormwood & yellow cedar

Flowers: Calendula, chrysanthemum, deadly nightshade, rue & fumitory

Goddesses: Al-lat, Baba Yaga, Badb, Banba, Bast, Bebhionn, Bronach, Brunhilde, Cailleach, Carlin, Cassandra, Cerridwen, Copper Woman, Crobh Dearg, Devanyani, Dolya, Edda, Elli, Eris, Erishkigal, Fortuna, Frau Holde, Hecate, Hel, Ishtar, Kali, Macha Mania, Morrigan, Nemesis, Nephthys, Nicneven & Rhiannon

Gods: Arawan, Baron Samede, Belenus, Coyote, Cronus, Dagda, Dis, Hades, Loki, Nefertum, Odin, Osiris, Pluto, Woden & Xocatl

Issues Intentions & Powers: Crossroads, darkness, death, divination, honoring ancestors, introspection, the otherworld/underworld, release, visions & wisdom (of the crone)

Spellwork: Divination, fire magick, night magick, shape-shifting, spirit calling & water magick

Related festivals:

• Day of the Dead- (Spanish: Día de Muertos or Día de los Muertos) is a holiday traditionally celebrated on November 1st and 2nd, though other days, such as October 31 or November 6, may be included depending on the locality. It is widely observed in Mexico, where it largely developed & is also observed in other places, especially by people of Mexican heritage. Although related to the simultaneous Christian remembrances for Hallowtide, it has a much less solemn tone and is portrayed as a holiday of joyful celebration rather than mourning. The multi-day holiday involves family and friends gathering to pay respects and to remember friends and family members who have died. These celebrations can take a humorous tone, as celebrants remember funny events and anecdotes about the departed.

• All Saints Day- is a Christian solemnity celebrated in honor of all the saints & martyrs of the Church, whether they are known or unknown

Activities:

• Dedicate an altar to loved ones who have passed

• Boil a simmer pot to cleanse your space

• Have a silent dinner

• Light a candle for your loved ones & yourself

• Decorate your house and/or altar

• Release negative energy & cleanse your with a ritual bath

• Pull tarot cards to see what may be in store for you ahead

• Cleanse, clean & de-clutter your space

• Leave offerings to the Fae

• Journal & reflect on your accomplishments, challenges & everything you did this year

•Go on a nature walk

• Learn a new form of divination

• Have a bonfire with your friends and/or family

• Carve pumpkins

• Express yourself creatively through art, music, ect

• Visit a cemetery & help clean off areas that need it or to visit a family member/ ancestor & leave an offering

• Hold a seance

• Bake spooky treats & bread as offerings

• Refresh your protection magicks, sigils & rituals

Samhain is a Gaelic festival on 1 November marking the end of the harvest season and beginning of winter or "darker half" of the year. Celebrations begin on the evening of 31 October, since the Celtic day began and ended at sunset.

This fire festival is celebrated on October 31st & is considered the Pagan New Year. It is the first Sabbat on the Wheel of the Year, a cross-quarter festival & the third (final) harvest festival of the mundane year. This is the time when the veil between the worlds of the living & those who have passed is the thinnest, which allows greater communication between the two

Some believe this is the time of the Goddess's mourning of the death of the God until his rebirth at Yule. The Goddess's sadness can be seen in the shortening, darkening days & the arrival of cold weather

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs