#and thank you eden for being so thorough with the beta

[splish--splash--avertedeyes]

hii ! i read help in an unconventional way and just want to say thank you bc omfg it is such a shame that there are only like 2(??) Scarian period sex fics it is truly a crime

ur fic is so good and it drives me insane(seriously like omghdj?/ especially with how tender and willing Scar is to help Grian and the position that u put them insjksoml the brain worms are eating good tonight) so I wrote a drabble based/inspired by it bc the people need to know abt Scarian period sex !!

Some context: Grian is standing up braced on a wall and Scar is on his knees 

cw : consumption of period blood

word count : 853

(also this isnt beta read,,)

In his sightlines, Grian’s knees fall into view. From here, he can see the throng of freckles that paint his flesh, spanning the thin stretch of skin at the joint to that pale strip at his thigh where the frayed denim of his shorts end.  

Most of his body, from what Scar has been privy to, follows the same pattern, that delineation of where he’ll allow himself to show skin, to be vulnerable. Though, Scar figures that Grian’s hand was forced on that matter rather than at his own inclinations. He would undoubtedly swear by wearing heavy clothes and plated armor during the heaviest of swelter if it sated that feigned need for protection at all times. If not for him being a creature surviving in the narrows of temperature. 

The freckled trail thins most at his hips, waning just below the sun-kissed and tawny of his stomach. He swallows, a noise low and resounding nestling in his ears, as furls of stubble creep into the corners of his vision. His fingers curl into the cushion of the towel underneath them. 

It’s a mess between his legs. Blood rusted-over in flecks along the innermost curve of his legs, barely clinging onto the vital swell of his thighs. Logging the soft thatch of curls and tangling them in mattes, painting the immediate pale leg hairs. Grian shivers, eyes fluttering shut, a strained yielding sound leaving his throat as a thick pearl of sinewy blood rolls down his thigh like molasse. Crimson against pallid skin. 

“Scar-- please--” he says his name like a prayer, made of breath and bogged with the weight of a hymn. A quiet thing solely meant for his ears. Even so, he’s hardly asking something of him.  

His thighs tremble as Scar looks up at him, appraising him through lashes. Dark eyes pore over him, his thumb treads the misshapen cleft that runs parallel to the eden of his brow, the meat of his palm warm against his temple. It’s a measure of tenderness, slow and languid, lacking the self-imposed fetters Grian has placed upon himself. 

It’s strange coming from Grian. 

Scar takes the little that he’s been offered, leaning into the warmth of his hand-- lest Grian decides that this is his boundary this deep in. Scar’s far too much of a child of the Sun for a flush to notably spread across his cheeks but, it’s an undeniable feeling when heat spreads the width of his nose; sinking down molten in his throat. 

When he response, voice made of gravel, he mumbles, “Whatever you need,” into the flesh of his palm. 

Grian’s thumb paints along the swell of Scar’s bottom lip lethargic, the motion barely reaching the corners of his mouth. There’s a slight give to the tender flesh when he presses firm into his lips, though, Scar hardly resists, willing his jaw slack as he takes him on his tongue.  

He tastes of sweat and smoke-- something thick and smothering-- the brine on his tongue isn’t untoward just raw. He’s probably been working that stone thorough, sharping his sword or tinkering with some contraption, fueled with the belief that being idle means death. 

Saliva pools in the dregs of his mouth at the taste. An animal to a salt-lick. It’s a fantasy that’s not quickly snuffed-out. Grian would probably concur, appending that he complies too easily, baring his teeth and mouth as if it’s innate, question rather if he’s truly a man or an animal merely at Grian’s discretion. 

Grian would like that. 

He lets that sanctified forefinger brush deeper within his maw, the metaphorical Eucharist dissolved and nestled safely in his throat. Scar nearly gags as Grian’s fingers trail further, a weak visceral noise sounding from the mechanics of his throat in an anatomical plea. If Grian were an undignified man he would’ve made him gag, but he reins in the temptation and removes the fingers from his mouth. “Sorry--” Scar sputters, trying to abate the urge to clear his throat, “I’m good.” 

Grian’s gone all doe-eyed on him, wide and glossy. He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve-- rather a chip on his shoulder-- veil of stoicism never letting up-- yet, the cinch between his brows is prominent. Even from Scar’s sitting. “Yeah?” His voice is low and wind-battered, like recovering from a wave that’s crashed down on him, the assent not lost on Scar’s ears. 

Scar looks up at him, the Sun has painted him golden, light tangled in his hair. He’s got baby-hairs plastered to his forehead from the sweat on his forehead, a short crop of curls spilling just past the neckline of his loose shirt-- Grian will probably insist that he needs a haircut in the vein of protection and Scar would bashfully agree with him despite the liking he’s taken to Grian’s longer hair-- lips in a soft line, he gives him a resolute nod.  

Fingers tug at what they can at the short crop of hair of Scar’s hairline, taking the reins of his attention. He noses into the downy underbelly of curls, dewy with sweat and blood, where his scent is most raw.

tyy for reading❤︎︎❤︎︎

omg hi thank you :D I agree it is SUCH a crime that there's not more. Maybe I'll write more at some point...

Also!!!! omg...eyeing this so much this is SO GOOD. If you wanted to write more.....we all need more scarian period sex 👀

I need to write something with Grian braced against the wall and Scar kneeling between his legs tbh that's such a fun position. Hmm....

[their-destinys-writer]

Lukanette September

I couldn’t follow the prompts, but that doesn’t stop me from celebrating this month somehow! Huge thanks to @corgi-likes-chat for reading, screaming and drawing <3 and @edendaphne for the awesome beta <3. You two made me feel proud of this one.

Patreon | Ko-fi | Twitter | Instagram

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

It didn’t come suddenly. It wasn’t a bolt of lightning. It wasn’t love at first sight. It had been something far more subtle. Like a small candle that consumed an entire room when she least expected.

What was worse, it took her a long time to realize what had happened. Too long. Long enough for him to move on. To create a life of his own, while she could only support him from the sidelines. All the while he thought she was content with what she had.

But she wasn’t. Waiting for someone who didn’t really see her, no matter how much he looked, was not enough. She wanted someone who made her smile, who gave her peace, who was there in her lowest moments and never judged her. Yet, like before, the timing was wrong.

So there Marinette was, standing just out of view from the crowds, silently cheering on Kitty Section. It was the best she could do, while she figured out how to move on once again. As the band finished their presentation, the members congregated backstage for refreshments.

“That was so cool!” Rose squealed, embracing Juleka. “Did you see that crowd? They were so many!”

“Yeah,” Juleka grinned, stroking her girlfriend’s hair. “It was awesome.”

“You guys did amazing,” Marinette piped up, as she started taking the large costume pieces from each one of them. “I think that next concert is guaranteed at this point.”

“Totally!” Mylène said, as she gave Ivan a bottle of water. “Penny was talking to the owner of the theater, and he said they hadn’t sold that many tickets in years.”

“That’s great news.”

Marinette resisted the urge to turn her head upon hearing that voice. Instead, she quietly placed the costume pieces in their respective boxes. The group continued their excited chatter, until a door opened, and in came…her.

“What are you doing here?” Luka was asking, as he hugged the girl that had just walked in. “I thought you had that thing—”

“It got cancelled,” the girl Marinette knew as Tina answered. “So, I decided to come support my favorite band.”

Marinette looked just in time to see the girl boop Luka’s nose. She quickly looked away to take a deep breath. Steady, heart, she thought as she exhaled. You’re fine. I’m fine. She’s been around for a month. There’s no surprise here.

Feeling calmer, she continued what she was doing, until she realized there was only one costume left. With a breath of determination, she turned on her heels and headed towards Luka and Tina.

“Hey, I’m putting away the costumes,” Marinette said loudly.

“Oh,” he responded, quickly taking off the pieces made of EVA foam. “Sorry, I got distracted.”

“It’s fine,” Marinette shrugged, forcing a smile. “I know how it is.”

As Luka gave her the costume pieces, Tina elbowed him. Marinette ignored it. If there was anything she’d learned from her time obsessing over Adrien, was that not every little detail had meaning. She turned and headed to the boxes away from the group, proud to have remained polite and coherent.

“Marinette?” Luka said quietly near her, as she closed the last box. The girl took a deep breath, wondering when he had gotten close to her.

“What’s up?” She turned to face him, keeping her face as neutral as possible.

“Um…Are you okay?”

Marinette blinked. “W-What?” she stammered, letting out a nervous giggle. “Why would I not be okay? T-that’s weird. You’re weird. I mean, you’re not weird like that, just—” She mentally slapped herself. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Luka responded, averting his eyes. “I asked because for a while now, you haven’t sounded like yourself. And just over there, I could hear a sad song come from you. Which I hear almost every time I see you these days.”

The girl paused, cursing Luka’s perception. She had hoped he would never find out. It had worked with Adrien, so why wouldn’t it work for Luka, too? What she had forgotten was how observant Luka could be, unlike her previous crush. Even so, she refused to place him in an uncomfortable position.

“It’s nothing.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Just stressed. Why don’t you go back to Tina? She keeps looking this way.”

“Don’t mind her.” Luka took a step forward and took her wrist, sending a chill up her arm. “You know I would never judge you, right? Please, talk to me. I know I’m not good with words, but I’m a great listener.”

“You’re great with words,” Marinette sighed. “I just didn’t listen when I should’ve.”

Luka frowned. “Did I do something?”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “No, no, you’ve done nothing! You’re great! You always have been, even when you didn’t have to.”

“Then why are you sad? I don’t want to keep making you sad.”

“Why do you think you’re making me sad?”

“I see it.”

“Luka—”

“Please!” Luka then slid his hand into hers, squeezing and raising it up to his chest. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

“STOP!”

Marinette yanked her hand away, letting out ragged breaths. She could instantly feel several pairs of eyes fall on her. One of them were those of Tina, who was staring with puzzlement. She could feel her face heat up. It was the first time in a while she had acted in such an embarrassing way.

“I-I…” Marinette’s mind was drawing a blank. Would it be so wrong to run? No. “I’m sorry.”

With her heart giving thunderous beats in her chest, Marinette ran off towards the door. When she opened it, a crowd of fans and photographers were blocking the way. She pushed through the crowd, desperate to get as far as possible from the calls behind her, .

While squeezing through, she heard new screams, indicating that someone had just followed her. Probably one of the band members hoping to bring her back. Marinette pushed harder, bumping into shoulders and biceps, until she reached the back of the crowd.

Once freed, she ran. She ran past coffee shops, past restaurants. Past bookstores, cheese shops, and music stores. She ran until she reached a small park with a fountain in the middle. Her legs felt like jelly, and her resolve to keep running died. With hard pants, she sat on the edge of the fountain, covering her face.

“Why did I do that?!” she scolded herself. “I must’ve looked weirder than usual. Tina must’ve thought the worst of me. Ugh, I’m such an idiot.”

“Marinette,” Tikki whispered from her purse. “Don’t say those things about yourself.”

“I just don’t get why he was so persistent,” Marinette continued. “Luka is never pushy. So, what was that all about?! Whatever happened to waiting for me to speak up?”

“Uuum…” Tikki started hiding back in the purse.

“What am I supposed to say now?” She upped her tone an octave. “Oh, I’m sorry for acting like a total weirdo this month. I just got totally jealous when you started bringing Tina for practices because, it turns out, I’ve been in love with you this whole time, but didn’t notice because I was too distracted with Adrien. But now that it’s too late, I find it hard to be near you, because it hurts. UGH!” She raised her head. “WHY IS LOVE SO—hard.”

Marinette’s face burned. Standing in front of her was the young man she couldn’t get out of her thoughts. The one guy she didn’t want listening to her ramblings.

Luka stared at her, breathing heavily, but his expression was hard to read. He didn’t seem angry. However, he didn’t seem happy either. Marinette gulped, tempted to run again. Before she could decide, though, Luka moved to sit next to her.

They shared an awkward silence. Marinette still wanted to leave, but now it felt rude after making him run all the way there. Perhaps this was her punishment for handling the situation so badly.

“Tina started coming to practice because she was frustrated with me,” Luka said quietly, no longer looking at her. “She said that she had to see the girl I talked about for herself. And she was annoyed that I hadn’t made my move yet.”

Marinette turned her gaze to him, lips parted.

“I told her my brilliant plan to leave the girl be, so she could be happy with the boy she actually loved.” He chuckled. “Tina kept saying that I was an idiot, and that I should just ask you out. She pushed me time and time again to be more assertive. But I think her plan kinda backfired, since you think she and I are a thing.”

Luka turned to her at last.

“Marinette, I have never stopped loving you,” he said, a smile adorning his soft features. “But I have never wanted to push you into something you don’t want. Or, at least, I thought you didn’t want.”

Marinette did her best to suppress a smile of her own. “I did my best to hide what I wanted because I thought you moved on. And I didn’t want to make you feel like you were responsible for my happiness.”

“It would be an honor to be responsible for your happiness.” Luka placed a hand on her cheek, lightly stroking it with his thumb.

“So, you’re telling me we haven’t gotten together because of a dumb misunderstanding?”

Luka chuckled. “It seems like it.”

“I really am an idiot,” Marinette giggled.

“By your standards, so am I.”

The two of them laughed airily. They looked at each other, their cheeks rosy, hearts beating rhythmically with each other.

“Luka, um…” Marinette bit her lip.

The young man smiled knowingly. Using the hand cupped on her cheek, he softly pulled her in, lightly brushing his lips against hers. It was that small touch all Marinette needed to get the confidence to place her hand on his chest and press harder.

Luka took a breath right before deepening the kiss, using his other arm to bring her closer to him, hand on the small of her back. Marinette tried to follow suit. Unfortunately, the arm she tried to use was the one holding them steady. With two yelps, the couple fell backwards.

SPLASH

Marinette squeaked the second her head emerged from the freezing water. Luka’s hands were instantly on her shoulders.

“Marinette! Are you okay?!” he desperately asked, sitting on his knees.

The girl couldn’t help but snort. The snort immediately turned into giggles. And very soon, she was full on laughing. It didn’t take long for Luka to follow.

“Of course I would ruin our first kiss with my clumsiness,” she laughed.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, with an angel like you,” Luka chuckled.

Despite the cold water, Marinette’s face managed to turn warm. She sighed wistfully.

“Me neither.”

Luka’s smile widened. Wider than Marinette had ever seen. This time there was no asking for permission. They both leaned towards each other at the same time, their lips meeting halfway. Marinette placed her hand on his jaw, while he embraced her with both of his arms.

No, it wasn’t perfect. But the fact that Luka loved it that way was what made it perfect for Marinette.