#but GODDAMN WHAT IS THIS NECTAR FUCK

[hannibalismos-jaaneman]

I BOUGHT MYSELF MY FIRST BOTTLE OF SCOTCH TODAY AND GODDAMN BRING IN THE PAPERWORK I'M DEF BOUND FOR REHAB NEXT YEAR.

[seattlesellie]

Reader getting a little embarrassed bc Ellie's strap won't fit?

Sorry of that's too much

perfect fit. ♡

screaming crying losing my mind. what a perf excuse to use “ill make it fit”

She’d be on top of you, forehead lightly pressed onto yours. You feel her pouty, somewhat chapped lips ghosting over your own, then lightly and delicately pecking the corner of your mouth. It’s one of your favorite types of kisses, makes you melt into the mattress, heavenly sigh, tremble within her touch. The warmth of her breath caresses your skin, a gentle zephyr of intimacy, of being so close. She looks at you so fucking intently, concentrated, fixated, scarred brows knit together and god, you love that little serious line that forms in between them.

The best way to describe her gaze, the most accurate one, would be to say that she looks at you as if she’s studying, genuinely attempting to take in every little gasp that you let out, eager to decipher every subtle nuance of your existencet, every single blink of your eyelids.

Ellie lowers her hand down from your cheek to the base of her strap on, caressing it upon your soaking, gushing slit. When you moan as a result of its bulbous tip hitting the hood of your clit, then your clit itself, Ellie smirks like an asshole. "I can just keep going like that if you want me to”, she whispers, meaning she knows she could make your pussy cum from just rubbing her cock all over its folds. You shake your head no, because as much as you know that it’s true, you yearn for her inside of you, for that intimacy of getting fucked deep with something she treats as if was her own. Ellie chuckles. “What do you want then, babe?” she coos lowly, continuously hitting that sweet spot above your clit that makes you whine, and her grunt.

You attempt to grab the back of her neck and bring her closer to you, to push her in somehow, but you’re too overwhelmed by everything, your hand ends up falling on the mattress and landing with a small thud. You whine, “Ellie…”, she smirks, moistening her bottom lip and slightly pushing the tip in, so it hangs juuuust a tiny bit away from being inside of your hole. “Inside?” she murmurs, never failing to add that teasing “yeah?” of a raspy coo.

You eagerly nod, she loves it when you do that — so fucking pliant, she stops you mid nod for a kiss that leaves the two of you breathless, tongues dancing a nasty, wet, sinful rhythm within the realm of your hot mouth. She leaves your lips with a loud smack. Your lips are swollen, a pout that kills, how could she ever concentrate on something else in her life?

She’d be absolutely lying if she said she didn’t have daydreams (and nightdreams) of your tight cunt stretched out by her cock, of seeing that pretty clit poking and peaking from the top of your pussy, of watching and taking in the sight of the stretch, the way it’ll slide up and down so easily because of how wet you get.

Unfortunately, Ellie did not take the tightness of yourself in consideration. She picked and packed a nine incher, deep blue and veiny, a bold choice, a goddamn cocky one.

You grab her sleek bicep and dent her skin with your nails, she hisses. You’re actually soaking, a pretty clear pool of heavenly nectar formed on the bedsheet, inside the seam of your ass. Your tiny whimpers are shaky and breathy and ever so desperate, egging Ellie on. “please…” you beg even under no command to do so. “Want it that bad?” teases Ellie, but with how desperate she has become, it sounds more like a plea, begging to please tell her how bad.

“need it inside, ellie, n-need you inside”

"Mhm", she hums softly, eyelids descending languidly, surrendering to the ecstasy of hearing your voice. “M’gonna fuck you” — god, you love it when she tells it like it is.

Pampering your cheeks with desperate, wet little kisses like raindrops, she pushes the tip in further, but… it won’t go inside. It’s blocked, your narrow hole begins to burn, redden, eyesight going out of focus, everything fading into a hazy abstraction. “Babe, it won’t…” she murmurs and attempts to fuck herself inside again. “Fuck, t'wont go in”

Your heart quickens its rhythm, a pulsating drumbeat beneath your chest, as you instinctively shut your eyes and, with a mix of embarrassment and restraint, gently bite down on your lip. You spread your thighs even further, attempting to somehow give her more space for movement, she pushes in again, you wince. “Owh, Ellie… owh”

You don't quite know if you're more embarrassed, or more pissed off. Your hole pulsates and yearns for a taste of her dick, but it hurts, and this feeling bubbles up inside your chest — This actual fear of disappointment, of not being good enough like her previous partners, of being or feeling too fragile, too inexperienced. You can't help but scan your eyes over her face, looking for a sign that will tell you that you're right, that you have disappointed her or worse, but before you manage to find it —

“Ffffuuuhck” she exasperates breathily. She strokes your cheeks with her thumb, a worried expression on her face. Her eyes dart over your form, muscles of her jaw tightly clenched. "Don't wanna hurt you", She murmurs and her voice is so sweet, "Can jus' use my fingers, yeah?"

“No, please" you sob, "I’m— fuck, i’m too tight!” your voice is a whine, an actual tear leaking from the corner of your eye, chin wobbling. Ellie’s so fucking torn because poor you, and she knows it hurts — she doesn’t want to hurt you, ever — but hearing those words fall from your lips… it’s hard not to buck her hips inwards and make you take it, miss “too tight”

“This is so… m'sorry” you actually sob, sniffling and avoiding her loving gaze, and maybe if you’d look — instead of letting your embarrassment wash over you and be a murky presence in your mind, your tears might have faltered. “S’not gonna fit”, your chest heaves. Ellie wipes a tear away — from your cheek, from the corners of your eyes, she considers comforting you, telling you to never apologize for anything, ever again, but she's sensible and rational and knows what do to next, to actually stop your tears from falling.

“babe?”, she huskily murmurs. You hum back, holding onto another choked sob.

“I’ll make it fit”

“Know I will”

[lixzey]

i. how long could we be a sad song, til we were too far gone to bring back to life?

luke castellan x apollo!reader

warnings: just read at your own risk, editing this was hard as fuck so bear with me. this has a lot of swearing, ANGST, and a new character! This is part one of chapter two, by the way!

thank you so much to my girls, @lilmaymayy and @jennapancake 🥺🫶🏻 for without them, i would be lost ‼️

hope you guys love it! (i put my blood, sweat, and tears into this-) love you guys!!!

ps: look out for clues!!

10.5k words

The smell of your mother’s freshly baked brownies invades your nostrils—a scent you haven’t smelled in a long time—which makes you feel nostalgic for a bit, as if your mother was in the room. Heated sounds of arguing coming from outside closed doors snap you fully awake, eyes fluttering open in response. You try to sit up, but your body fails you—tired and worn out. Your eyes scanned around the room, you were in the infirmary, no doubt about that. Bottles of nectar and cubes of ambrosia—the source of the comforting smell—sitting on a nearby table with your guitar sitting in a chair beside it.

“Let me the fuck in, Chris!” You hear Luke’s voice from outside, annoyance evident in his tone. “She’s my best friend! Move away from the goddamn door!”

Clarisse scoffs loudly. “Best friend? Best friend? You ditched her to go make out with that blonde smartass!”

You wanted to stand up and eavesdrop on their conversation, but your body wasn’t letting you. Clarisse was obviously talking about Lacy, and how Luke bailed on you last minute. Chris probably told her that, and besides, it’s not like she doesn’t know that I have feelings for that dumb little shit. You wondered what would happen if you grabbed another few cubes of ambrosia, maybe Lee or whoever tended to you while you were out cold didn’t shove a cube down your throat yet. You hesitated, you were a healer—cabin seven’s finest, for crying out loud!—you should know better than to give in to whatever your brain tells you to do.

“Do not call Lacy that,” Luke growls at Clarisse. “I asked Y/n if it was okay, and she said it was! I wouldn't have gone if she wasn’t okay-”

“If it wasn’t for your dumbassery she wouldn’t be in here in the first place, you stupid dumb fuck!” Clarisse growled back, matching Luke’s intensity like an echo.

“I asked her and she said it was fucking fine! Get that in your damn thick skull!”

“Ha! Look who’s talking!” Clarisse snapped, despite being younger, she was a firecracker in her own right. “Acting all high and mighty, when this is all your fault! Did you even know that she went down to the docks, after you acted all white knight just to spend time with that know-it-all little shit? Huh? With an ungodly amount of food meant for the both of you!”

“Stop. Calling. Lacy. Fucking. Names!”

What on earth is happening out there? You shake your head, taking a deep breath, forcing yourself to sit with everything you got. You wince at the throbbing pain in your head, leaning against the wall, trying to get your shit together before grabbing a cube of ambrosia and shoving it down your throat despite that nagging voice inside your head telling you no, like a broken record.

“Y/n is unconscious, for crying out loud!” Clarisse yells, anger spewing like lava from the rock climbing wall down by the amphitheater. “And all you can fucking think of is Lacy!?”

���That’s why I’m literally here, Clarisse!” Luke snaps, rubbing his arm. “I’m here to see my best friend!”

“That girl inside,” Clarisse jerks her head towards the door behind her, anger fuming out of her like cigar smoke. “Is the kindest and most loving person out here at camp—literal sunshine trapped in a human’s body! She has always been at your side, and you repay her by ditching her to make out with a girl whom, might I just add, you’ve just talked to within the goddamn DAY and proceeded to ignore your said best friend.”

“I’m here now-”

Clarisse cuts him off. “Leave.” She pointed down the hallway, to the door out of the Big House. “Before I lose my shit and chop your head off and use it as a fucking bowling ball with your limbs as the damned pins.”

“Luke,” You weakly call out, loud enough to interrupt what could’ve been Clarisse acting out on her intrusive thoughts, your voice hoarse and dry as if you’ve been stuck in a desert without anything to drink.

“Y/n,” Luke breathes out, the sound of your voice calming him down as he pushes past the two. As soon as the door opens, you see him smiling at you—that mischievous smile you’ve learned to love the past three years. He then steps forward, ignoring the glares Clarisse and Chris were giving him. But before he can even get close, you fall back into your bed—steaming, as if you were burning like a forest fire. Luke immediately rushes to your side, sitting on the bed, holding your hand in his. Worry and fear was visible in his features, the scar on the right side of his face resembling tears running down his cheek as fear slowly crept into his mind. “Fuck, you’re burning, melody.”

“What?” Chris asks, frozen in place—worry replacing glare he once had. “I thought Lee already gave her ambrosia!”

“He did!” Clarisse says, seemingly forgetting her anger towards the older Hermes boy as she rushes to your side. “Gave her two cubes!”

“Call Lee, Michael, or Dawn! Now!” Luke barks at the two, looking around the room for anything to help cool you down, even though Luke knew that a fever like this wasn’t easily fixable by a cool rag or something. “Now!”

Clarisse immediately scrambles to get your siblings, looking like she had seen a ghost, dark curls following her every move.

Chris then stares Luke down, seemingly getting over his initial worry for you as his glare intensifies by the second. “Get out.” he spits out harshly. “Get the fuck out before I forget that you’re my brother.”

Luke looks at his brother, matching his intense glare. “I don’t give a damn, Rodriguez,” he hisses, refusing to leave your side like a clinging child.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” Chris enunciates each word with venom, his eyes flashing with hate and anger.

“She called me! She wants me! She needs me!” Luke let go of your hand, standing up to face his brother as he tried to argue, but Chris wasn’t having it.

“Go fuck Lacy for all we care,” Chris pushes him by the chest—despite being a full two inches smaller than his older brother. “Since you chose her over your best friend.”

Before Luke could even react, your siblings—Lee and Dawn—came rushing into the room, just in time to prevent gods knows what. Luke moved to the side, giving your brother and sister room to work, while still glaring at his brother. How dare he? The counselor of cabin eleven thought, forcing himself to calm back down for your sake. He felt miserable, that he had caused this. He wanted nothing more than to see you be happy, healthy, and well, you.

Luke averted his gaze away from his brother, chocolate brown eyes helplessly staring at your unconscious form. You looked so worn out, almost as if someone had drained every bit of your life force.

“Get your punk ass out of here right now,” Clarisse hissed, yanking Luke’s arm, trying to drag him out.

“Let go of me, you little shit,” Luke growled, like a lion defending its territory. “I’m not leaving her-”

“Get out!” Lee snapped, looking over his shoulder with a murderous look in his eyes. “Before I give you all hives, boils, anything available in the book!”

“But-”

“Get out!”

And with that, Chris and Clarisse dragged Luke out of the Infirmary.

“Let me go!” Luke struggled in their hold, every cell of his body wanting—needing—to get back to his girl, his melody. “S-She needs me!”

“Calm the fuck down, for Christ’s sake!” Chris sighs, letting go of his hold on his older brother. “Even if we both let you go, Lee and Dawn aren’t going to let you inside, you stupid dumb fuck!”

“Damn you, damn all of you!” Luke angrily yells at Chris and Clarisse, and probably at everyone else.

“Shut the hell up, Castellan!” Clarisse yelled, annoyed at his stupid behavior. “Stop acting like you’re the victim here, you whiny bitch!”

Luke ran a hand through his curls in complete frustration, muttering incoherent words as he tried hard not to pull all his hair out of his scalp.

“Get a grip, dumbass!“ Clarisse threatened, on the verge of acting on her intrusive thoughts. “Before I smack some sense into your sorry ass!”

Surprisingly, Luke didn’t fight or argue back. It wasn’t that he couldn’t fight back, but this girl in front of him was ruthless. More than anyone else at camp. And if she threatens someone, there’s a ninety nine percent that she will do whatever she says.

Luke sighed, quickly fixing his composure, glaring at Chris and Clarisse for a minute at most, before turning his heel and leaving the Big House, not even bothered to take a look back.

“Melody, I love you,” Luke whispers in your ear. “Please be mine, I promise to never hurt you again.”

“Luke,” You sigh, looking him straight in his eyes—deep brown that holds your heart. “I love you too.”

The sun slowly crept through the curtains, waking you up, tearing you away from your dreams. Your eyes flutter open, squinting as they adjust to the light as if it was the first time in a long while.

“Mornin’ sleepy head,” A voice echoes through the room’s four corners, snapping you fully awake. Your eyes dart towards the voice’s direction, meeting a familiar set of chocolate brown eyes you’ve stared into more times you could ever count paired with that signature smile of his that made his scar just below his right eye, practically fade. “About time you woke up.”

“Luke?” You mumble, thinking that you were still dreaming.

“Gotta be quiet now, melody,” Luke moves closer to you, giving you a better view of him—looking as handsome as ever. “No one knows I’m here.” He points to a New York Yankees cap dangling from his belt loop. “I sneaked in.”

“What? You snuck in?” You ask, brows knitted in confusion. “Why’d you sneak in? It’s not like you’re not allowed to be in here.”

Luke scratches the nape of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “About that….”

You raise a brow at him, arms folded in front of your chest. “Luke, what’s going on? Don’t lie to me, I know when you’re lying.”

“Of course you do,” Luke chuckles, shaking his head. He then takes a deep breath, looking you straight in the eyes. “Chris and Clarisse won’t let me see you, while you’re here, unconscious.”

You crack a small smile, the light you always had, returning to your eyes. “What? Why? I mean, they’re literally three, four years younger than both of us and they bested you?”

Luke smiles at you sheepishly. “Yeah, well, Clarisse isn’t someone I’d like to cross.”

“You and me both,” You chuckle, sitting up straight. “So, how long was I out? Two, three hours?”

Luke’s smile falters, hesitation in his eyes. “You’ve been here for a week, melody.”

“W…what? A w…what!?” You stutter in disbelief. “One whole week!?”

“Apparently, your insides burned because of too much ambrosia intake.” Luke explains with a look of worry in his eyes. “You got everyone worried, melody.”

“How much did they give me?”

“Lee swears he gave you only two, but another cube was missing from the table, so they couldn’t be sure if it was only two.”

“Oh.”

Luke raises a brow at you, a knowing smirk on his lips. “You don’t happen to know anything, huh, melody?”

You stare at him in disbelief. How is it that he knows when I’m lying but not that I’m head over heels for him? “I may or may not have grabbed another cube, a week ago.”

Luke shakes his head with a chuckle. “And I thought I was the one, what was that you always say? Who doesn’t follow orders?”

You roll your eyes at him, your lips curling up into a smile. “Shut up, Castellan.”

“You love me, L/n.” Luke grins, mischief twinkling in his beautiful brown eyes. Of course, I fucking do. You’re just too damn stupid to notice.

“Dream on,” You chuckle, forcing a fake smile, hoping that he won’t see through it. “So, how come Clar and Chris won’t let you in?”

Luke hesitates again, avoiding your eyes—a telltale sign that he was guilty. “They, uh, were, uh mad at me. For, you know? Ditching you.”

Oh. That’s why they were arguing a week ago, apparently. You understood why Clarisse and Chris wouldn’t let Luke in, they were only concerned for you. But it wasn’t a valid reason to keep him out, when it’s him that you’ve always wanted to be right beside you.

You force out another smile—maybe you were a pro, at this point—taking his hand in yours. “I don’t mind, charming,” you say, gripping his hand tighter. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Luke looks at you. “You sure? I mean, I don’t want to put our friendship on the line because of my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” You choked out, shock evident in your eyes, but you pushed it down like you always do. “I mean, how? When? I remember the two of you just talking…”

“Just two days ago,” Luke answers with a confident smile. “I’m in love with her, melody, I really am. After that failed quest my stupid father gave me, I think I finally got something right—her.”

You didn’t know how to feel. You felt numb, as if your heart couldn’t break anymore than it already has. Here he was, happy to tell you that he’s finally done something right in his life. Not knowing how it’s breaking you, piece by piece, tear by tear, beating you down until you can’t anymore. But, you can’t do a thing. You don’t have any right to get hurt, angry, and broken-hearted. After all, you were only his best friend, nothing more.

You gave him a smile with every strength you could muster. “Good for you, Luke. I’m-” you took a shaky breath, hoping you could blame it on the drowsiness if he asked. “Proud of you, finally getting the love you deserve.” If happy is her, then I’m happy for you—at least, I’ll try to be.

Luke leans forward, wrapping you a tight hug. “Thanks, melody,” He whispers in your ear. “You’re the best.”

You pat him on the back, wishing you could just hit him hard enough to knock some sense into him, make him realize that you were here—right in fucking front of him. “Anytime, charming.”

Luke pulls away, giving you a kiss on the cheek before ruffling your already messy hair. “You rest well, okay?”

“Says the one without burnt insides,”

“We all have rough days and it’s okay not to feel a hundred percent all the time.” Luke assures you with a soft smile. “You’re gonna pick yourself up, and get back out there. Be easy on yourself, alright?”

You raise a brow at him, laughing softly. “When did you become so wise?”

“Turns out, hanging out at cabin six makes you wise.” Luke laughs, rising to his feet. “I’ve got to go, alright, melody? I don’t want Clarisse to kick my ass, again, if she catches me here. Anyway, we have a game of capture the flag next friday. Chiron’s pushed it back long enough, if you ask me.”

“Already?” You ask, pushing strands of your hair away from your face. “What day is it?”

“You’ve been out cold for a week, melody,” Luke chuckles, shaking his head, his curls looking as messy as ever. “It’s Thursday today, Chiron announced last night.”

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath. “I missed a lot, huh?” Like you making Lacy officially your girlfriend.

“Don't you worry your pretty little head, you can jump back into it as soon as you feel okay.” Luke assures you with a smile, walking towards the door, Annabeth’s New York Yankees cap ready in his hands. “Now, get some rest.”

You nodded, playfully rolling your eyes, as if you weren’t already dying of heartache and a headache from all the information you’ve just ingested. “Yes, I will. Don’t worry too much about me.”

“When you’re better, meet me at our spot.” Luke gave you a lopsided grin. “We’ll spar, but don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Alright,” You fake a smile so normally, reaching for the bottled water on the bedside table. “I’m sure gonna beat up your sorry ass.”

“As if,” Luke scoffs, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “You can’t beat me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “I sure can, dummy.”

Luke snorts, adjusting the Yankees cap to his size. “We’ll see.” He then places the cap on top of his head, his body disappearing right in front of your eyes. “Rest.”

You chuckle, smiling—genuinely—at him. “I will, thanks for the visit, charming.”

“For the love of dad, Lee,” You groan, glaring at your younger brother, lips pouting like a little kid. “It’s been twenty four hours! I’m better now!”

“Let me check first!” Lee counters, ripping open a tongue depressor. “Please, just let me check—to make sure that you’re actually healed.”

“I told you, I’m oka-”

“I’m going to bound you to that bed if you don’t shut up and let me do the freaking examination.” Lee cuts you off, effectively shutting you up. He sounded just like you, it was scary, to say the least.

“Damn, he sounds like you, sunshine.” Chris laughs from the doorway behind Lee. “You better now?”

“She would know by now if she’d just let me fu-”

“Just do the damn exam.” You grumble, sinking into the bed, your arms folded over your chest like a little girl arguing with an adult as you glared at your younger brother. “Don’t fucking swear.”

“But you do,” Lee retorts, pushing the depressor into your mouth, flat against your tongue, checking for burns cleverly caused by his sister who should have known better. “So, why shouldn’t I?”

“I’m gonna bite off your fingers, try me.” You say out through the depressor pressing over your tongue, your gag reflex activating causing you to grimace at the feeling. “I der ya.”

You hear Chris snort, earning him a glare from you. “What?” He laughs at your annoyance. “You sound like a toddler.”

You glare at him, raising your middle finger at him. “Yuck you.”

Lee, who was checking your throat, bursts out laughing. “You’re better, alright.”

You yank the depressor out of your mouth, the taste of wood still lingering on your taste buds. “I’m better, fine, good, all fixed. Can I go now or do I have to stay and be tortured by your annoying ass presence?”

Lee nods, a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Go, just don’t tire yourself. No stress for this day, at least, for gods’ sake.”

You roll your eyes at him, sitting up and reaching below for your shoes. “I know what to do, dummy.” You quickly put on your shoes, tucking the laces inside so that they don’t cause another accident before standing up. “I’ve been a healer much longer than you, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, right,” Lee mutters, throwing the wooden paraphernalia into a nearby bin. “Says the girl who burned her insides.”

“Shut up,” You hiss at your brother, resisting the urge to just smack him upside the head like the doofus he is. Brothers, geez. You can’t stand them but you can’t imagine life without them. You then grabbed a hair tie from your pocket, strands of your hair falling as you pulled your hair up into a messy ponytail. “I’m going to go find Luke.”

“Him?” Chris scoffs, rolling his eyes. “He’s literally the reason why you got sick, sunshine.”

“Nonsense,” You dismissively wave Chris off. “It was my fault, I forgot to drink water.”

“Yeah, right,” Chris rolls his eyes at you, not believing any of your bullshit, as Clarisse would call it. “You forgot to drink water on a hot summer, because my stupid ass older brother broke your heart?”

“Don’t you have someplace to be?” You grumble, picking up your guitar before making your way to the door. “Luke is still my best friend, I’m not just going to ignore him.”

Chris scowls playfully at you, placing his hands on his hips. “Then what am I? A tree?”

You chuckle, moving towards him and pinching his cheek, making him wince. “You, my friend, are like a little brother to me.”

Chris pulls your hand away from his cheek, still wincing from how hard you pinched him. “Little? I’m literally taller than you, sunshine.”

“Semantics,” You rolled your eyes, smiling at him. “Tall or short, big or small, or whatever the hell you want, you’re still like a brother to me.”

“Then,” Chris chuckles. “You are the best big sister anyone could have. Right, Lee?”

Lee nods his head vigorously. “The best, one hundred percent. Cabin seven is lucky to have you, sis!”

Your cheeks blaze pink, as you smile from ear to ear. “Gee, thanks guys,” You bow playfully. “Glad I’m appreciated around here.”

“Unlike some people.” Chris mutters loud enough for you to hear.

“He does,” You insist, your dad’s stubbornness shining through you like beams of light. “Luke appreciates me, I know it. He wouldn’t have visited me yesterday while I was out if he didn’t.”

Chris raised a brow. “Oh, did he now? I think I’m gonna have a word with this dear brother of mine.”

“Chris,” you say in a warning tone. “Be nice.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris sighs. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you, sunshine.”

“I am this close to cursing you with the sweating sickness.”

“Go,” Lee laughs, pushing you out the door. “Your prince charming awaits.”

The late summer afternoon sun was still hot against your skin as you excitedly made your way to find Luke, practically skipping as you threaded through the North Woods, to the place you and Luke call your escape from being the pillars of camp.

Only the two of you know about it. You and Luke swore on the River Styx to never tell anyone of the little hidden paradise the both of you had grown to call your own. It was the place you could be happy, the place you could have Luke all to your own.

“Not so fast!” Someone snarled, yanking on your hair, grabbing your bow and arrows. “Give me the fucking flag!”

“Luke!” You screamed, struggling against the pull at your hair. “A little help!”

Luke whipped his head around, anger immediately coursing through his veins. The sight of you struggling at the hands of an older Ares boy ignited a flame inside of him. Nobody hurts her.

Luke charged at him, making you yelp at the tug of your hair. The son of Ares was using you as a shield against Luke—and Luke wasn’t liking any bit of it.

“Let her go!” Luke roared, trying his best to attack and not hurt you. “You big dumbasss!”

“Just give me the fucking flag!” The son of Ares growled, pulling your hair harder, causing a sharp pain in your scalp—you were sure if he let go of you, all of your hair would fall out. “And I’ll spare both of you!”

“Never.” Luke growled, quickly planning an attack. Being the child of Hermes had its perks, as Luke was quick to move. Luke charged like an angered bull, taking the older boy by surprise, knocking you off of his grasp. The son of Hermes slammed the hilt of his sword against the son of Ares’ chest armor, causing it to dent and making him stumble. “Now, get the fuck out before I chop you into pieces.”

The son of Ares immediately scrambled away. “We’re not over, Castellan! We’ll get that flag one way or another!”

“Yeah? Try me.”

Luke turned his attention to you, almost tripping on a rock as he ran towards you. “You alright, melody?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You grunt, adjusting the strap of your armor. Seeing Luke’s worried look, you sighed. “Hair pulling isn’t gonna give me a concussion, don’t worry.”

“If that fucker comes back, I’m gonna-” You pinch him on the arm, making him yelp. “Ouch, woman! That hurts!”

You rolled your eyes. “Quit being a baby.”

“Violence is never the answer! I’m not the enemy, so don’t attack me!” Luke grumbled, rubbing his arm where you had attacked him.

“Let’s just go and hide.”

“Do we have to hide?” Luke asks, gripping his sword, ready for defense. “I mean, we can fight—I can fight.”

“I am not going to fight when I can just hide.”

“Then what’s the point of capture the flag if you aren’t even fighting to keep the flag safe from the opposing team?” Luke folded his arms over his armored chest. “It’s a war game for a reason, melody.”

You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head in annoyance. He was really persistent, but you wouldn’t have him in any other way. “One, we have the flag. We’re supposed to keep it safe, so we should be hiding it. Two, I am not in the mood to heal you if you get hurt—which will probably happen, because I know you.”

“Come on,” Luke whined, tugging at the blue flag in your hands. “We can win this, I know it!”

“We can win this,” You nodded. “If you quit being a pain in the ass.”

Luke scowled. “I am not a pain, thank you very much.”

You snort, raising your hand up to wipe off the dirt on Luke’s face. “Yes, you fucking are.”

Before Luke could retort, you hear yelling just meters away from where you and Luke were standing.

“They’re over there!”

You immediately realize who it was—it was the boy who Luke had bested just minutes ago.

“Great,” You groaned, simultaneously, Luke pumped his fist up in the air.

“Idiot.“ You muttered before grabbing Luke’s wrist, dragging him away.

Despite his protests, you keep your grip on him. You weren’t gonna let him pick a fight just because he wanted to.

“There!” You hear the yells of the opposing team getting loud and closer. “I’m going to fucking rip his head off!”

You spot a cave just a few meters away. It would be a good hiding spot, just until the furious Ares kids leave the two of you alone.

“Let me at ‘em!” Luke tried pulling his hand away from your grasp. “I can handle them!”

“No!” You snap at him, dragging him towards the direction of the cave’s entrance, almost tripping as you dragged the stubborn Hermes boy despite his annoyed protests.

The two of you stumble into the darkened grotto just in the nick of time, practically shoving Luke inside. You leaned against the stone wall, trying to catch your breath, hoping those sons of Ares won’t get the idea to look inside. You immediately pulled your necklace out of your shirt. The sun shaped locket your father gave you started to glow, illuminating your face in the darkness.

“You should’ve let me fight them,” Luke grumbled, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath like you did. “I would’ve beat their asses!”

“If I did they would’ve got the flag from me, dummy!” You retorted, letting go of the chain of your necklace, letting it dangle over the camp's logo on your shirt. “Quit being reckless!”

Luke scowled, slumping onto the ground. You could see beads of sweat all over his forehead down to his neck. “I’m not reckless.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Am not.”

“You are.”

“Nuh uh!”

“Uh huh!”

Luke rolled his eyes, a small smile creeping its way to his lips. “I mean, I guess I am a little bit reckless.”

You raised a brow at him. “Only a little bit?”

“Okay fine,” Luke sighed, shaking his head with a laugh. “I’m reckless, are you happy now?”

“Delighted.” You grin at him, wiping sweat off of your forehead with the back of your hand. The two of you then sat in silence for what felt like hours—it was only a few minutes—the sounds of yours and Luke’s breathing accompanying the dim light of your locket.

“So, where exactly are we?” Luke asks, breaking the momentary silence. “Never seen this cave before.”

“I actually don’t know,” You answer, looking around the poorly lit enclosure. “Pretty sure we’re barely past Zeus’ fist, so we don’t have to worry about being too far out.”

“Zeus’ fist?” Luke snorts. “What? Mister king of the gods had a tantrum and punched camp?”

“It’s a clump of rocks that look like a fist,” You laugh, rolling your eyes at Luke’s humor. “Although, some call it Zeus’ shit, since it looks like a clump of Pegasus shit.”

Luke burst out laughing, throwing his head back like a little kid. “Nice name, fits mister grumpy pants. Thalia would’ve loved that!” he says in between fits of laughter.

“She would,” you smiled, knowing how much Luke missed Thalia—his first best friend. You didn’t know much about Thalia, but knowing from the stories Luke has told you before, he was right. “Thalia would’ve loved it.”

“Yeah, she would’ve,” Luke sighed, smiling softly. “Hey, melody?”

“Mhm?”

“Do you think anyone else knows about this cave?”

“I don’t think so,” you shrug, looking around. “This place looks so…dark, you know? And besides, the Ares kids haven’t found us yet. So, it’s safe to say that no one else knows about this place.”

“Our own place.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“This could be our own place,” Luke explained with a grin, his eyes shining with a familiar excitement you’ve seen before in his chocolate eyes. “Somewhere only we know.”

“It’s dark here,” You say, your nose wrinkling in disgust. You never really liked the dark. As a child, it had been your worst nightmare. Your mother would always set up a nightlight just so you wouldn’t get terrified of the possible creatures that lurked in the dead of the night. When you got to camp, your father had given you your locket to help you cope with the darkness and being alone since your mother couldn’t really help you with your fears anymore. “I don’t really like the dark.”

“We could add some torches outside, plus some inside, maybe those streamer light things too—we just gotta figure out how to add this without power, but I think I can ask that Beckendorf kid for a favor. A few crates we can stack up for a bed when we need it—I can grab an extra sleeping bag from the camp store. And some throw pillows here and there and it’ll feel like home.”

“You can’t possibly think that this dark cave could feel like a home,” You argued, folding your arms over your chest. Realizing that you’ve covered the only source of light in the dark, you quickly tugged on your chain, pulling it from below your arms.

“I lived in a cave once.” Luke says casually, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not that bad, honestly. You just got to use your artistic eye—you do have that, don’tcha?”

“I’m not going to get my way, am I?”

“Nope!”

You rolled your eyes at him, smiling despite losing another decision to the boy right in front of you. “Fine,” you groan playfully. “You better make this place as bright as my cabin.”

“Not that bright, but of course, my sweet darlin’ melody!”

You smile, taking it all in. You’ve never had something as intimate as this, and it felt good, somehow. A place you can call your own, now who wouldn’t want that? “Our own place,”

“Our own place.” Luke repeated, contentment in his voice. “Swear on the River Styx?”

“What for?”

“If this is gonna be our little escape from camp duties, we should at least keep it a secret from everyone else.”

You raised a brow at him. “Even from Annabeth?”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Yes, even from Annabeth.”

“Pretty sure she’s gonna find out either way, but yeah sure, we can swear on it.”

“I, Luke Castellan, swear on the River Styx to never tell anyone of this place.”

“I, Y/n L/n, swear on the River Styx to never tell anyone of this place.”

The sound of the conch rang out from the distance, signifying the end of the game, and since the flag was still in your hands, your team had won.

“Did we win?”

“We did!” You squeal, grinning from ear to ear like a child on Christmas eve. “We won! We actually won!”

“Come on, let’s rub our victory in their faces,” Luke grinned, his eyes shining with that familiar mischief you’ve come to adore, dramatically offering his hand out for you to take. “Shall we, my lady?”

“We shall,” You giggle, grabbing his hand as the two of you make your way out of the dimly lit space.

From that day on, you and Luke have decorated the place to look as cozy as possible. The both of you would spend as much time as possible together, usually sparring outside the cave or just catching up on the sleep you’ve missed from waking up early in the mornings. Sometimes, you’d bring your art supplies and paint little murals all over the walls. Luke even carved yours and his initials on one side of the walls and painted them gold—in Luke’s words, because, our friendship is worth more than gold. This little cave was your escape from reality. Where Luke is yours, and you are his—even just in your imagination.

You sigh happily as you spot your little hidden paradise, blazing greek fire on torches set up just at the entrance. You practically skipped towards the cave, a huge grin plastered on your face.

“Luke? Are you here, charming?” you call out, your voice sounding a little giddy as you make your way inside, following the dim light inside—which Luke probably lit beforehand. “I’m here! I’m ready to beat your ass!”

As you approach closer to the light, you hear faint moaning? What in the name of Hades is he moaning for? You thought, brows knitting in confusion as you moved cautiously forward, pulling the strap of your guitar over your head. He better not be jerking off again. I swear to the gods above I’m going to hit him with my guitar.

You’ve only caught him in the act once, and it was enough for you and Luke to resort to calling before coming in—which you did, and debating whether to do it again because you did not want to see how males relieve themselves again ever in this lifetime.

You sigh heavily as you make your way inside of yours and Luke’s secret hide out, desperate for a little sleep before getting back into your duties as one of the head counselors. Your fourth archery class was in two hours, and you were already debating whether you should leave it for Dawn to handle because you were absolutely aching to get a well deserved rest, practically begging Hypnos to put you into a peaceful nap right there and then.

As you walk past the buckets of paint you left from the last mural you made, you hear muffled sounds coming from inside. Immediately, you thought of Luke being injured or in pain—his recklessness usually got him into unsavory circumstances, and it was honestly so stupid of him most of the time. But you’ve never heard him like this before, and it made you worry. Maybe he got stabbed—which was highly unlikely, knowing how good he is with a sword—and was scared to tell you, knowing you’d bound him to a bed in the infirmary this time. Whatever it is, you were ready to hit him on the head for it. Perhaps even curse him with the sweating sickness for, well, being a pain in the ass (you love him for it, so you most likely won’t).

Sighing, you finally make your way towards him, hands in your pockets searching for something that could help—band aids, ambrosia, anything—ease whatever pain Luke was feeling. Hopefully, it isn’t that bad and fixable with the few cubes of ambrosia in a pouch inside your pocket.

“Jesus, Luke!” you shriek, immediately closing your eyes shut, pulling your hands out of your pockets and covering your eyes for added, well, coverage from what you just saw.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you hear Luke say as he quickly—as you assumed—pulled his boxers and pants up, before the sound of his footsteps echo in your ear. “You saw that…?”

“What do you think, dumbass?” you hiss, eyes still closed shut as you attempted to cross one arm over the other against your chest.

“Maybe next time, call first?”

“You think?”

“You can open your eyes now, Mel,” Luke says with a chuckle. “You gave me blue balls, but I’m decent now.”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head. “I don’t trust you.”

“You wound me, miss Y/n L/n, daughter of the god of truth-”

“Your dad is a liar. You said so-”

“You think I’d ever lie to you, melody?” Luke snorts. “Just open your eyes, drama queen.”

“It’s not my fault I’m scarred for life!” You grumble, reluctantly opening your eyes, relieved that Luke was decent looking at least even though his belt was undone and the zipper was half way up—which you just chose to ignore. “Gods of Olympus, I think I need to get therapy!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke rolls his eyes sarcastically. “It’s not my fault you just waltzed in without announcing yourself.”

You scoffed, glaring at him. “Well, I’m sorry for thinking that you were injured or something, dumbass!”

“Come here,” Luke opens his arms out for a hug, giving you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, mel-”

“Ew, wash your hands first!”

Luke burst out laughing. “Really?”

“I am not hugging you until your hands are a hundred percent disinfected, Castellan.”

“Fine,” Luke laughs, turning his back to get the shoe box sitting on the ground, placing the cover back on top. “Let me just bring this back to eleven, and then you can supervise me in disinfecting my hands.”

“What even is that?” you ask, peering over Luke’s shoulder.

“Oh, trust me. You don’t want to know.”

Realizing what he meant, you visibly cringed. “Oh, dear gods,” you say, your nose wrinkling in disgust. “You are disgusting, you know that?”

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” Luke smirks. “It hurts, if not relieved properly.”

“Stop, stop,” you shake your head, covering your ears. “I do not need a lesson on the male reproductive system.”

“It is what it is, melody.”

“Shut up,”

“Next time, call first, alright?” Luke chuckles, placing the box under his arm. “Yell if you have to.”

“Noted. And next time, give me a fucking heads up an hour before you want to do…that.”

“You do know that your brothers probably jerk off too, you know?”

“I swear to my dad I’m going to kill you of you don’t stop, Luke-”

Luke smirks, slinging his other arm over your shoulders. “You love me,”

I do, you think as the two of you make your way out. “But that does not mean you can annoy me to death.”

“Ah, but that’s my purpose, my friend.”

“You are absolutely, a hundred percent, annoying, Luke.”

“I think you mean, absolutely, a hundred percent, charming?”

“Nope,” you chuckle as Luke scoffs playfully. “You’re definitely an annoying little shit.”

“Yeah, well, I’m your annoying little shit.”

“The one and only.”

“Luke?” you call out his name again, this time a little louder. What is he doing? He better not be doing what I think he is, or I am definitely going to kill him.

“Luke-” A gasp escapes your lips at the scene playing right in front of your eyes. Suddenly, you felt like a statue, stuck staring despite the voices in your head begging you so desperately not to.

Luke was half naked, leaning against the wall, his jeans unbuckled and hanging loosely around his waist. And there was Lacy, straddling him, hands roaming absolutely everywhere. Her manicured hand trailing up and down his bare, scarred chest while the other was threading through his chocolate curls as he kissed her like it was the end of the fucking world. Luke's hands slowly crept down, one hand snaking around her waist, pulling her closer and the other trailing up under her shirt and up to her breasts, emitting a sound you never wanted to ever hear. The sounds of their moans kept ringing in your ears, haunting you with every second you stood frozen. Gods, at this point, you wanted to pop your eardrums just to be free of this involuntary torture.

But that wasn't even the worst part. It was the fact that, a few inches up, you could see a pair of initials drawn messily with red lipstick right over yours and Luke’s.

L + L

He was putting her over you, literally and physically.

You knew this was going to happen from the very moment Luke told you about his relationship, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon. Angry tears started to prick the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill at any second. You tried your best to push them back, but it felt like an overflowing dam. Your grip on your guitar loosens as your tears slowly cloud your vision. The wooden instrument slips from your hold, shattering into tiny unfixable pieces from the impact, just like your heart. At the sound of the instrument breaking, Luke’s head whips around, spotting you. His face immediately drains of color, knowing his faults.

“Shit-” Luke pushes Lacy off of him, causing her to yelp as he quickly makes his way towards you. But you turn to run off before he could even catch up. “Y/n, wait!” he calls after you as you run out of yours and Luke’s once secret place.

You kept on going, running and ignoring Luke’s pleas for you to stop and talk to him. You felt very betrayed, very heartbroken, and very angry. How could Luke do this to me? You kept on asking yourself as tears kept clouding your vision like an endless fog while you ran through the woods without any direction. You wanted to stop and face Luke, to scream at him for being so clueless about your feelings and for hurting you. But you couldn’t, you just can’t. The image of him entangled with that girl was burned into your mind, refusing to let you get away from its grasp as the memory replayed again and again like a broken record. Oh, how you wanted to gouge your own eyes out and drown them in bleach until the image of them faded completely out of your mind, unfortunately, you are a prisoner of your own thoughts.

And even if you could muster up the courage, you didn’t have the right to do so. You were just his friend, nothing more. You were just this person he could count on whenever he needed something. He doesn’t care about your feelings if or not you get hurt by his choices, because you didn’t mean much to him the way Lacy meant to him. You wanted so badly for your heart and mind to just realize that crucial fact, but like your father, you were just as stubborn. Gods, fucking gods, how cruel are they to damn you like this? What the hell did you do to invoke the ire of the gods and get this kind of suffering?

“Y/n, will you stop for a second!?” Luke managed to catch up on you, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards him like a force of a thousand magnets.

Your hands immediately found your eyes, wiping off every tear as much as you could, trying your absolute hardest to look normal. As if you weren’t hanging onto the balance of anger and hurt.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Luke’s voice was suddenly gentle and soft, his hands moving upward to cup your cheeks, slightly titling your face up so you could meet his eyes. “Are you okay, melody? What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”

“Yeah, I’m-I’m good,” You sniffle, shifting your gaze away from him. How stupid is he to not see through you? “Just had a really shitty day.”

Luke sighs as he wraps his arms around you, his lips pressing against your forehead, burning into your skin. “I’m so sorry about-”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off with a shaky breath, pushing yourself away from his hold. You wanted so badly to bury yourself in his chest, like you always did whenever Luke hugged you, to breathe in his scent, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Knowing that Lacy had already claimed her territory. “I-I have to go,” You choked back a sob, wiping away the fresh tears falling from your eyes as you turned your back on him. “Lots…lots of stuff to do.”

“Y/n, wait-” Luke tries to stop you, his hand on your arm—holding onto you like a vice he didn’t want to let go—but you pulled your arm away and just walked away without taking another look back, because you didn’t want to look as desperate as you felt.

You feel your chest tighten as you hear Luke calling your name again and again, his voice slowly fading as the distance between you and him grows farther away. But, you continued to tread on, walking without a sense of direction through the woods. Despite that, there was this lingering feeling in your heart that hoped so badly that Luke would still follow you.

Should I look back? Should I stop? Should I…

No, Luke isn’t behind you anymore. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t give a damn about you. You are nothing to him. He loves Lacy, not you. And he will never love you.

Haven’t I given enough? I mean, I gave Luke my best me’s-

You aren’t her.

You aren’t Lacy.

What does she fucking have that I don’t?

You will never be her.

You snap out of your thoughts as you fall onto your hands and knees, gasping for air as the tears you were trying your absolute hardest to push back now flowed down your cheeks like an endless stream. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was just too much for you to handle all at once. It was suffocating, as if Lord Eros had shot an arrow straight through your throat, purposely missing your heart, and with a taunting voice he’s telling you “You don’t deserve love!”

“Holy Hephaestus- Beckendorf, get your ass down here for a sec!” You hear someone say, causing you to immediately wipe away tears, dirt smearing all over either side of your face. You see a figure approaching you from your peripheral view, which then you realized where you were. Fire crackled in the distance, the smell of burning metals lingering in the air. “Gods of Olympus- Y/n?” The figure knelt in front of you, large calloused hands supporting your weight as your body trembled from the forcing back whatever you felt. Looking up, though still a bit blurry, you recognized the person holding onto you. Marco Leon, head of cabin nine and son of Hephaestus—a familiar face you’ve come across multiple times a day in the infirmary.

“Are you alright, Y/n?” Marco asked, lifting your palms away from the ground, placing them onto his shoulders as he helped you stand up, searching you for any cuts or bruises. “What happened?”

What happened? Nothing. I just saw the love of my life practically having sex with his new girlfriend. “N-nothing,” You wheezed out, stumbling forward a bit as your chest heaved from trying to stop the tears and catch your breath. “I’m fine…”

“You’re obviously not fine, Y/n.” Marco shook his head, his face contorting into a look of concern. He slid his arm around your waist, careful not to make you feel uncomfortable but enough to keep you steady on your feet. “Come on, let’s get you seated for a sec.”

Marco led you towards the workshop, where surprisingly only one of his siblings—Charles Beckendorf—was waiting, confusion evident in his features as you approached.

“Holy- What did you do, Marco?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong! She tripped!” Marco defended, helping you onto one of the work benches around. “Quick, get the first aid kit!”

“No,” You say, shaking your head, your voice hoarse and dry as you undo your ponytail. “I mean, no thanks. I-I can do it myself.”

“Are you sure?” Marco grabbed the first aid kit from his brother, opening it. “You’ve got a pretty nasty scrape, there.”

You smile weakly, pushing back a few strands of your hair away from your face, cringing slightly at the feeling of dirt dried up on your skin. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Alright,” Marco smiled, giving you an alcohol pad and gauze along with the tiniest roll of paper tape, which you gladly accepted with a small nod.

Ripping open the alcohol pad, you pressed it against your skinned knee, wiping any debris and bacteria away, a whimper escaping your lips at the burning sensation of the disinfecting wipe. You then repeated the process on your other knee, before placing the used pad on your lap and opening one of the gauze packs.

“Here, let me help with this, at least.” Marco offered, grabbing the roll of tape, tearing off a piece. “Put the gauze over the scrape, and I’ll secure it down.”

“Thanks,” You squeaked, eyes widening at how horrendous that sounded. Gods, why can’t I do anything right? “I’m so sorry for being a bother-”

“You’re not bothering anyone, trust me,” Marco chuckled, meeting your eyes with a kind smile. “You’ve been taking care of everyone at this camp, it’s just right to return the favor.”

Marco pulled another piece of tape, only for it to reach the end of the roll. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, reaching for the medical kit and rummaging for another roll of paper tape, letting out a huff at the unsuccessful search. “Guess we’ll just have to make do with this little thing.”

He tore off the paper-clip sized piece off of the roll, placing it on the bottom side, so that the whole gauze wouldn’t fall off. It didn’t really make a difference, since your other knee was still bare—though, sanitized, at least.

You muttered a quick thank you, before taking a deep breath, composing what’s left of…whatever the hell you had left. “Gods, this is so embarrassing, you know?”

Marco raised a brow, closing the incomplete box of first aid necessities and passing it to his brother, who ran with it to god knows where, leaving you alone with the senior counselor of cabin nine. “What is?”

“Head healer, being a dumbass, getting herself injured and can’t even properly heal said injuries—and the worst part, the injury was only a scrape, a fucking scrape.”

“Stop that,” Marco sat right next to you, shoulders brushing against one another. “You have got to stop discrediting yourself, Y/n. You are an amazing healer, sister, friend, and person. From what I’ve seen you do over the years, I’m confident to say that you are the most selfless person here at camp.”

“You’re just saying that because-”

Marco placed his hand on your shoulder, your eyes suddenly meeting his—chocolate brown, just like Luke’s. I can’t even talk to another without thinking of him, gods, what is wrong with me? “You take care of everyone, honestly, but who takes care of you?”

“I-I…” Words refuse to come out of your mouth, leaving you like one of your blank canvas. Marco was right, and it pains you to admit it. You’ve always been the caretaker, but never the one cared for. Sure, your siblings and friends care for you, but at the end of the day, it’s still you who looks after everyone—especially him. If Luke Castellan ever needed tending to or help with practically anything, you’re there by his side, just like how Icarus was drawn to the sun. You often forget to take care of yourself, even the simplest of tasks like eating or drinking, slips out of your mind whenever Luke or someone needs your help. It’s almost an endless cycle, fixing everyone’s problem until it’s you who’s stuck with something you can’t muster up the courage to ever get a solution.

When was the last time you even had time for yourself? Gods, you felt pathetic. At this point you think it’s all you’ll ever be, as terrible as it is, a pathological people pleaser.

“Come on,” Marco pulls you out of your self loathing. “Let’s get you back to your cabin, you need rest.”

“I’m okay,” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek. Here you go again, acting like you’re fine when you’re not. Taking a deep breath, you meet Marco’s eyes with a smile. “I’ve got to get back to work, you know? I fear my absence this past week has affected a lot.”

Marco shook his head, chuckling at how stubborn you probably looked right now. “Still, I'll walk you back.”

“I’m okay, Marco, I swear-”

“Please,” His voice was firm, but there was this gentleness in his tone that made your heart flutter a bit. What in Apollo’s name is wrong with me? Ugh!

“Okay, fine.”

Marco quickly rose to his feet, a grin etched onto his handsome- No, I mean, attractive- fuck it face like he’d just won a million dollars in the lottery. “My lady?” he bowed in front of you, offering his hand out the way Luke always did whenever he was trying to make you laugh after he’d upset you or something. You took his hand, choosing to ignore what your mind—heart— wants, giving the boy in front of you a small, forced smile as he helped you onto your feet. “Shall we?”

You nod, letting go of his hand before it all feels weird and awkward. Gods forbid anyone sees you holding hands with Marco, not that it’s bad or that you’re ashamed, but there is one person you have in mind you would prefer not to see you frolicking like a teenager in love.

Well, you were, in fact, a teenager in love, but not with Marco Leon.

The two of you headed back to the cabins in complete silence. It was honestly deafening, to say the least, you just couldn’t bring yourself to utter a single word. With everything that’s happened today, you wanted nothing more than to run away and hide, to weep like a fucking disney princess in hopes of getting a fairy godmother to appear out of the blue to help solve all of your problems, even if the magic fades after midnight. Oh, what you would give to get that wretched, cursed, image of the boy who owns your heart and soul with that…that girl out of your mind for all eternity. If it was possible to rearrange and delete memories from your mind, you would’ve clicked the easiest option out.

As the cabins came into your view, you let out a soft sigh of relief. He’s not here yet, thank gods. You weren’t ready to face him, or her after what you’ve just seen in the place that was once exclusive to and your best friend. The thought alone of them kissing made your stomach churn so badly that you wanted to throw up. Oh no, did they….continue after Luke got back? You visibly cringed at the thought, gods of Olympus, why was your own mind punishing you like this? You look up at the sky, the sun is setting in the horizon, the serenity of the pink and orange hue in the clouds calming you down.

“Are you free tomorrow?” Marco asked as the two of you approached the vicinity of the cabins, your hands brushing against each other ever so slightly.

“I don’t think so,” You hum, your hair blowing against the evening summer breeze. “I’ve got to get back to my duties. Archery lessons, music, and arts and crafts, I think? Why?”

“Maybe you’d like these new…uh, arrows? Yeah, arrows, that’s right! Me and Beckendorf made them for you guys. Test them out before, you know, using them.”

“Yeah?” You ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “I didn’t know we had new arrows coming in.”

“Lee approved them, because you were unavailable? You were, you know? Sick?” Marco fumbled over his words, like your younger brother, Will, whenever he gets caught stealing Lee’s flannels.

“Oh, well then, I think I could squeeze you into my schedule tomorrow.” You smiled, though, a bit unsure if you could take a few minutes off of your hectic schedule—the same routine of events you always do.

“I’ll pick you up- no, I mean-”

Before you could utter a response, you heard screaming. “Connor Stoll, get your ass back here!”

What has he done this time? You thought, because you were the one who had to patch the younger Stoll brother whenever he got maimed by the one he was terrorizing. Usually, it was Luke who’d ask what his menace of a brother did, and the two of you would laugh about it after the said menace was out of earshot.

You see Connor Stoll running in your direction, with that shit eating grin he always has every time he’s successfully pulled off a prank. Behind him was an angry Katie Gardner, with a trowel in her hands as she chased after the speeding little shit- Connor. “Get back here, you little shit!”

“Never!” Connor yelled over his shoulder, zooming in your direction without looking where he was going, colliding into you, causing you to stumble backwards- You have got to be kidding me, falling into Marco Leon’s arms like you were in a goddamn romantic comedy movie.

“Hi,” Marco chuckled, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you steady like you were a canvas and he was the easel. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, I-I’m okay…”

“Stoll’s a menace,” Marco laughed, helping you back onto your feet in one swift motion, his arm still placed firmly against your waist, his face just a few inches away from yours.

“When isn’t he?” You let out a shaky laugh, realizing that were probably campers gawking at you and Marco flirting like two leads in a movie. “You…uh, you can let go of me now.”

Embarrassment crept onto his handsome features like a plague, scratching the back of his head like he’d been caught stealing from the Big House or something. “Oh, yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly as he helped you back to your feet. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” You pat him on the shoulder like an absolute idiot, who the fuck pats a person? At least, no one else saw that, because if someone brings this up sooner or later, you were going to kill Connor Stoll. Though, it seems that everyone has gone to get dinner, and won't be back until after the campfire—which, you should be there for, as senior counselor and head of the Apollo cabin. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow? I mean, if I get the time and all.”

“Yeah, of course. Take your time! I’ll be right here- I mean, not here here, but at my cabin, or at the forge. Not here, where we’re currently standing.”

“See you tomorrow, Marco,” you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes at him, starting to walk away from the oddly awkward Hephaestus counselor. “I’ll try to make time, I promise.”

“Wait, you’re not going to eat dinner?” Marco asks, walking three steps behind as you headed to your cabin, which was only next to his own.

“Eh,” you shrug, running a hand through your hair, which wasn’t as smooth as you wanted it to be. “I think we have a few snacks in the cabin.”

Marco raised a brow, a teasing smile on his lips. “You gonna survive on snacks alone?”

“I think so, though, it wouldn’t be as healthy as I’d prefer.”

“Tell you what,” Marco gently grabs your arm, prompting you to stop in your tracks, now just a few meters away from your cabin. “I’ll go grab you something healthy to eat from the pavilion so that you won’t have to make do with that unhealthy junk. How does that sound?”

“You’d do that for me?” You ask, shocked as to why he would offer such a thing. You weren’t a princess, so it doesn’t make sense that he’d bring you food like some sort of servant, which he absolutely wasn’t. Gods, you felt bad even just thinking about it. Though, a meal sounded nice, since you’ve haven’t gotten anything to eat yet since you’d left the infirmary.

“Of course! It’s no trouble, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Marco assured, letting go of your arm. “What about the campfire, though?”

“My siblings will come looking for me, I suppose.” Foolish of you to think that you could ever get a little time for yourself. Guess you’d never learn your lesson then, dutiful daughter of Apollo. A soft sigh escapes your lips, still reeling high from the events that had come to pass. Dad, I just want the day to end, I want to curl up in my bed and cry myself to sleep. Come on, let me just do this once? I promise I’ll be your perfect, responsible, but broken hearted daughter again!

Marco seemed to notice the change in your tone, his eyes locked with yours, as if he was looking for answers in your gaze. You didn’t even understand why he was doing all of this. Yeah, you’ve interacted with him every time he comes to you with a broken thumb from accidentally hitting himself with a hammer or well, any injury that comes with being a son of the blacksmith god. He took a step closer, so close to removing the distance that separates the two of you.

“You deserve rest, after everything you do for all of us here at camp.” Marco tucked strands of your hair behind your ear. “You’re not a robot, you’re human. They can’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you took three steps back, fighting the urge to break down again. You didn’t need that, you needed to get over your own feelings—figure them out before you lose your own mind trying to fix this mess of a puzzle called you. “Of..of course. I got to go, I-I need some time alone. Thanks, for everything.”

And with that, you turned your back and ran towards your cabin, without looking back.

Luke Castellan, you fucking asshole.

I wish you were here.

[tired-biscuit]

yuuji’s eyes. that is all. need to stare into his eyes as he cums down my throat

18+ MDNI, fem!reader

i think he’s such a loverboy and is so open about his feelings that he doesn’t mind eye contact at all.

sometimes it’s cute and innocent. like when he looks at you across the table whenever you go out to have dinner because you both felt like dressing up a little that night and enjoying a meal neither of you knows how to cook at home.

he’s still chewing when he tells you how pretty you look in your dress, trying to tone down the rosy blush that’s coating the apples of his cheeks, and you want to punch him in the shoulder and tell him to quit lying even if you just know that he isn’t doing so. after all, every time he looks at you his pupils expand like the goddamn dinner plates you’re eating off of. he’s so in love and his eyes tell you that — it can’t possibly be a ruse.

or when he looks at you with a comforting smile before he brings you in for a hug whenever you’re sad and need to be consoled. he can be a bad listener sometimes, he admits it, but this mere quirk of his lips that causes his eyes to wrinkle slightly at the corners just has the power to immediately make you feel at least a little bit better no matter how bad the situation at hand is.

he looks at you like he sees you, you know? all of you. and what is that if not comfort?

but other times it can be… a bit more twisted, too. like when he’s eating you out for example.

you’re writhing atop the crumpled bed sheets while he goes down on you, back trying to lift from the mattress in a perfect lust-stricken arch, and he just looks up at you. stares right into your very soul, where everything is so tender and vulnerable, with this dazed, pussy drunk gaze that has you feeling hot all over and has you clenching with climax the second his fingers hit that equally as tender and vulnerable spot that’s hiding deep inside you and his tongue eagerly presses against your clit.

or whenever you’re sitting on his lap, riding him. he’s lazily sucking on your nipple while your bodies work that slow rhythm that’s got you both feeling so fucking good; pink cupid’s bow quivering with pleasure around it as he looks up at you from underneath his pretty lashes. his brow is slick with sweat, and it furrows deeply whenever you lift your hips up and slam them down just as deep, taking him as much of his thick length as you possibly can.

he loves this position. secretly loves being used like some kind of boy toy even if he’s well aware that he means much more to you than that. you can feel his cock twitch with excitement whenever the eye contact is made during sex even if he can barely keep his lids from squeezing shut because of how close to cumming he is. his mouth opens as he pulls back to pant and catch his breath to try and stop himself from rutting into you like an animal in heat, a thin string of glimmering saliva still connecting him to you, and it’s like there are literal hearts appearing in the spot where his pupils should be.

he just becomes so stupid and horny and obsessed with you whenever your panties come off… and whenever they don’t, too. this obsession, this love that he harbours for you — it shows itself in his eyes. always.

and he’s so direct with it and brave about it. he’s looked you in the eyes the first time he’s introduced himself to you with that sheepish grin and awkward hello. the first time he’s gathered the courage to ask you out. the first time you’ve slept together. when he said his first i love you, hell, he’ll probably do it even when he says his last.

and speaking of eyes; yuuji’s are so warm. so kind and friendly, charming and full of love — just like he is. sweet honey swirls inside them whenever he smiles and laughs that laugh that makes your tummy tighten with butterflies that just want to drown in the sugary nectar. they make him look like a puppy that you just want to squeeze and hug and kiss until the end of times. they truly are like a window to his soul and heart.

he just… he can make you feel like you’re his dreamgirl whenever he looks at you.

and it’s because you are.

[nuemanfilms]

WHY NOT TWO? || S.W & D.W.

Content warnings; Threesome, No Wincest, lots of cum, dirty talk, oral (m!receiving & f!receiving), piv, unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS. ESPECIALLY NOT WITH TWO GUYS), spit, creampie, facial, fem!reader, just pure filth, pwp, proofread!!

Summary; No plot.

A/N; conspired this up with @sadisticsammyw !! 600+ WC. and this is my first, be easy PLEASE.

16+ I am not responsible for the content you consume reading this. That is your doing.

Everytime Sam’s tongue lapped at your nectar, combined with Dean’s rough thrusts in and out of your mouth was like electricity running up and down your spine. You let out lewd noises around his cock while your fingers tangled and tugged at Sam’s locks. The younger Winchester’s hand pumped up and down along his shaft, letting out pathetic whines against your cunt. Deep groans and grunts fell from Dean’s plump lips as he fucked himself in your throat.

Sam’s hips practically rutted against the bed as his tongue dragged messily against your slit. Dean’s hands moved to grab your hair, forcing you further down his length.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.. can’t get enough of both of us, huh?” Dean teased, you moaned around him again. The vibration sent shockwaves up his spine. Sam pulled away for a split second, the head of his cock prodding at your entrance. He was collecting your slick, the vulgar act of it all just made you soak even more.

When Dean pulled away, you let out a pathetic whine.

“Fuck, she’s dripping, Dean.” Sam groaned, finally pushing past your folds. You let out a cry, Dean immediately shushing you by pressing his lips against yours. Your lips parting for a brief second allowed Dean to slip his tongue past. Invading your mouth to distract you from Sam’s sudden intrusion.

You moved your hand to wrap around Dean’s length again. His hips bucked up in your hand, a quick thrust.

“Don’t tease, Doll. You know you aren’t in the position for that right now.” Dean warned, Sam on the other hand was resisting the urge to start moving already. He had to give you time to adjust, you were so goddamn tight around him.

The younger’s fingers moved to rub at your pearl, attempting to loosen you up around him.

“C’mon..” Dean’s tip brushed at your lips again before pushing back in. Another strangled groan leaving from his mouth at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his head again, the sound caused you to tighten around Sam’s cock. Erupting another sound of pleasure.

“Ah, Shit.. tight fuckin’ pussy- God…” Sam moaned, his hips finally beginning to pick up a pace that had you drooling around Dean again.

“Damn, you really are a slut, huh? Giving yourself up to two men who could easily ruin this pretty little body, huh?” Dean’s thumb brushed at your cheek to wipe the stray tear falling from your eye. His words echoed through your mind, but the pleasure was clouding every part that was logical.

Sam’s grip tightened to the point of nearly bruising around your hip, the tug at your hair never loosened. He was already getting close in the span of ten minutes.

You made a gagging noise when Dean’s tip hit the back of your throat for what seemed like the sixth time that night. Sam’s hips stilled inside of you, signaling he was close.

You clenched around his length one last time, and he was done for. Spilling himself inside of you while his older brother pulled out to paint your face.

You’re certain that the grip on your hips had bruised, your abused cunt leaking with your mixed orgasm. Leaving a reminder of this night, a reminder of the men who were above you.

When both of the boys seemed satisfied, they pulled back for a minute to admire their work. The sight of you splayed out, teary eyed, and looking completely dazed had them wanting to go for another round.

You barely processed the fact that they were switching places. Sam’s head tapped at your lips, while Dean’s cock inched closer to your slit again.

“You can handle another round… right, Sweetheart?”

[cozymoko]

MOTHERLY READER HCS (FT. SIYUN BAEK)

Synopsis: Siyun Baek growing up with a motherly "obsession". ♡

Pairing: Siyun Baek x female! reader

Format: Headcanons

WARNING(S): Yandere themes, obsession, mild spoilers

Word Count: 1.7k

IN MIDDLE SCHOOL, the two of you were very popular amongst your peers. Siyun for his good looks and charisma; and you for your kind, nurturing attitude that could make anyone swoon. Siyun was no exception.

Your kindness drew him in like a bee, mindlessly chasing sweet nectar constantly, persistently even. Oh dear, can you blame him? It was a thing he was so selfishly robbed of by his own “loving” parents. Something you seemed to have a lot of for even those who don’t deserve it.

It was Love.

Only his closest friends knew of his slight “crush” on you and it came as no surprise. You were loved unconditionally by those in your year, platonically and romantically. You were sweet, and optimistic, and wore your heart on your sleeve for anyone to see. What wasn’t there to like?

Alas, getting close to you was the issue. When you weren’t crowded by students, he was. When you were by yourself and peaceful, he wasn’t. When he finally had free time his nerves were practically eating him alive, causing him to shy away from any attempt to speak with you.

However, giving up wasn’t an option. He wouldn’t allow it.

Naturally, you were chosen as class rep, leaving you to tend to all classroom affairs. Which was quite laborious for just one person. Your teacher, taking note of your troubles, finally gave you a hand. (By making one of your classmates help you.)

“Baek Siyun, help {Name} deliver these to the faculty office.”

You snorted. Not what I had in mind but I'm not complaining.

The walk from homeroom to the facility office was a lengthy difference away. Finding the tense silence to be a bit uncomfortable, you decide to make conversation with your popular senior.

“It's been a while since we've spoken, Baek Siyun; how are you?” You smiled, gazing fondly at your classmate. “You're much quieter than usual, are you sure you're eating properly?”

It was true that you’d never had an actual conversation with the boy, but nonetheless, you remembered his name. It was impossible to forget when everyone in your year was practically enamored with him, though you could clearly see why. So as one does, you strike up a conversation with him.

However, you had not expected that to kickstart such a wonderful beginning.

TWO MONTHS LATER...he asked you out in front of the school at that. In his hand was a bouquet of colorful peonies wrapped in fluorescent papers, with a gigantic teddy bear hooked safely beneath his unoccupied arm. A soft pink painted his skin as he patiently awaited your response. He looked so bashful and sweet that it was almost adorable.

How the fuck could you ever reject that?

Siyun had never been one to stay in one place, in his unloving home nonetheless. Most of his nights were spent at your house, with no call or even a text from his parents on a normal day. Fortunately, your parents were wealthy enough to host the two of you on most days.

You pat his head, motioning towards the clock, flashing [18:27]. Much too late for him to be here, in your house, suffocating you. His childish whines interrupted your thoughts, tickling your skin as he made no real effort to move. He peered at you through thick lashes and you swore you could see hearts in his pale eyes. You sighed, “Figures.”

You were aware of his situation but you never expected him to run away, without contacting you at that. You were devastated, searching every perimeter of his neighborhood. Up, Down, Over, and Under: No matter where you looked, Siyun was nowhere in sight.

Exact at the park down the street from your goddamn house.

“Hey, Siyoon-Ah, where have you been?” You huffed, resting your hands amidst the tempting curve of your hips. You looked as if you wanted to scold him. Yell at the top of your lungs until your throat grows raw, harsh breaths wracking your body. Unbeknownst to you, that's exactly what he wanted.

IN HIGHSCHOOL...you decided to keep your relationship a secret to Siyun’s dismay, but only to maintain his career! It's not like you wanted him to be surrounded by so many girls, vying for his attention. You hated it! Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that.

“Baby, why are you ignoring me~?” Siyun whined into your chest, his sharp eyes peeking at you through heavily tinted sunglasses.

He had grown much clingier in the time you spent together but given his situation you expected nothing less.

“Was I? I’m sorry, I was just thinking…That’s all.” You weren’t lying but something about your actions gave it away. You had been staring at a random group of girls who you’d recognized from your class, watching them with a bitter expression.

“As much as I enjoy your jealousy, I’d rather see you smile.” He cooed, gently kissing your lips. “I’ll quit being an idol if that’s what you want. I don't mind us being public.”

“Siyun, no!”

In public he never referred to you formally, however, you did. You wished to keep this act up when he could give two fucks about it. Hearing you refer to him in polite speech made him was to bite you, (the fuck) considering you were already past that stage already.

But considering the two of you were attached at the hip, some of your peers had begun to suspect some things; (insert names), specifically. (insert name) had been vying for your attention since you first arrived at that school and you weren’t having it. Seeing the way he treated his fans made you a bit uncomfortable; his arrogance didn't excite you.

He was a polar opposite of your boyfriend and you weren't very interested in speaking with him.

“Sorry Kang Na-Hyuk Sunbae, but I'm already interested in someone. I cannot return your feelings.”

You give him a strained smile, lightly swaying on the balls of your feet. You watch his hand coil into tight fists

“Who is it—?”

“[Name]!” You visibly perk up at the sound of your name, turning to the direction of the culprit.

“Baek Siyun, hi!” Before you knew it you were at his side, ignoring how the idol's gaze lingered on the man just a distance away.

That's when it clicked.

You were romantically involved with Siyun Baek.

Then the rumors started, spreading around the school like a wildfire, tearing down. His reputation in a matter of seconds. It made you sick, being subjected to appalling rumors about your lover, behind his back nevertheless. Watching everyone turn their back on their favorite idol over a few lies. 

But you stayed by his side.

“Look at [Last Name], she's too sweet for her own good, hanging out with someone like him.”

“Right, hasn't she heard that he's violent? Poor girl.”

“Maybe we should talk her out of this, it's too dangerous!”

You payed them no mind as though they slipped in one ear and out the other.

The idol world was a very shady place filled with assholes and weirdos all around it. Your mind had led you to believe this was the doing of a certain brunette, and you weren't too far off.

Despite how calm he looked on the outside, his facade was crumbling. Siyun had lost his temper countless times, fueling the pointless drama swarming the media. Yet, you didn't turn on him. You comforted him as you always did.

Siyun had begun to cave into your affection. He craved you, his only real source of support. Even when those around him looked down upon him, you had not. You gently stroked his ashen locs, hugging him close in a secluded area of the school.

All he needed was you.

HIS ACCIDENT left you heartbroken and you could hardly contain yourself at word of it. Your feet carried you long and far to the hospital that had been hosting him, as you drowned out the faint shouts of your parents behind you.

You knew what Kang Na-Hyuk had done and you couldn't help but think you were at fault. Were you not careful enough with your actions? Did your rejection have something to do with this? How badly was he hurt?

Regardless, you couldn't help but blame yourself. One of the sweetest (and craziest) boys you've ever met was in the hospital and you couldn't do anything to stop it.

“Please show me Baek Siyun's room!” A soft pink dusted your cheekbones at your volume, but you did your best to ignore it.

Your feet carried you down the cold hallways, aching and fatigued. You could hardly remember the last time you ran so fast. You burst through the door, halting the conversation being held within it.

“Out!” You huffed, leaning on the door. “Get the fuck out, all of you!”

Siyun sat there wide-eyed at your outburst, you were never one to curse but you could hardly help yourself. You approached his bed, gently grazing his chilled skin with sorrowful eyes. Even then all you could do was apologize, apologies for something you took no part in.

“How cute~ What are you apologizing for? You didn't do this to me.” A warm feeling bloomed in his chest at your arrival. He never realized just how much he missed you.

“Well...I—Hey!” You shouted, “Siyun-Ah, what're you—?!”

You were so sweet he swore he could just eat you up!

Siyun buried his head between your breasts. His slim fingers grip your sides, leaving deep crescent moons in his wake. He bit his lip, nearly enough to draw blood as he refused to meet your curious gaze. The sporadic drumming in his chest left him flushed, huffing out rushed breaths every second.

He smiled, Maybe this isn't all that bad.

Sure having his idol friends was fun. He wanted them by his side. But eh what's the point? Having his girlfriend coddle him was way more up his alley anyways. You were much more enjoyable to be around than all of them combined.

And at least you'll be here forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and EVeR and EvEr and EveR and EVER!

[gothcsz]

javier peña definitely gets so cocky when he finds how wet you are for him 😩

oh absolutely and you fucking love it. love when he’s talking shit to you in bed because it’s true— he’s the only person who has ever aroused you this way.

and it’s the fact that your dripping for him every. single. time. it doesn’t matter if he’s bending you over his truck for a quickie or handcuffing you to y’all’s bed for a drawn out fucking; you’re as wet for him as a virgin is the first time she’s taken.

“Ay querida, ¿Toda esta dulzura para mí?” His beautiful brown eyes, darkened with lust, stare up at you as he lays comfortably between your spread legs, your pussy throbbing and clit twitching with each fan of his warm breath. He’s been teasing you for what feels like hours now, enjoying how you squirm beneath him.

“For who else Javi?” Your voice is small, a whiny little thing that has him grinding his naked erection against the soft sheets of the bed.

“That’s right baby, nadie más. Toda mía. No one can get this pretty little pussy as wet as me.” To prove his point, Javi gathers spit in his mouth before obscenely spitting onto your cunt, the sound alone is enough to have you arching your back and clutching at the duvet.

You need him so bad.

“Please…” you beg, like always, because while Javier Peña is a loverboy through and through— he still loves hearing you beg for him. For his tongue. His cock.

He pushes your knees up to your chest, spreading you out even more, your cunt is beautiful and glistening beneath the dim lighting of your bedroom. He could stare at you like this all day, just watching as your tight little hole squirt out more and more of your delicious slick.

Like a honeysuckle on a hot summer day. Sweet, ripe, all ready for your lover to pluck and enjoy your nectar.

“Drive me crazy when you get this fucking drenched mi amor. Don’t gotta do a goddamn thing and you’re already dripping. Such an easy little slut.”

His teeth nip around the sensitive area of your sex, deliberately avoiding where you need him the most.

Another whimper falls from your lips, your hips swiveling around to get him to get his mouth on you.

He slaps at your thigh, the sting causing you to mewl out his name. “Look at you. So needy.” Though he leans in to place the most delicate kiss on your clit and you feel dizzy.

The kiss has more of your juices pooling out and he smirks, watching as it slowly drips down to your ass. “I could just lay here all night and watch you soak the sheets, reina. Make this pretty little pussy cry and weep then have you lick your mess up.”

Oh Jesus fucking Christ, that would be absolute torture but you’d do anything to appease the cocky bastard. Anything to have him fuck you.

“Please, Javi, please please please…” It’s like those are the only words you ever bothered learning. Like begging and pleading is all you know how to do.

“Please what, cariño?”

“Please just do somethin—- ahh!”

His mouth is on your pussy with an intensity that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back fucking levitating off the bed.

He’s got a strong, iron grip on your thighs as he devours you entirely, sucking your fleshy clit into his mouth and finally giving you what you’ve been begging for all night.

[astralnymphh]

⤹ okay but on the topic of vampire!ellie, which one do you guys personally like?? has nothing to do with what i'll write next, just a curiosity + headcanons. MDNI 18+ enjoy this free vamp!ellie brainstorming content with a random side of nipple fixation!

¨༺ ♱ ༻¨

teenage dirtbag vampire!ellie in a modern realm who can't stand being in her parents suburban hell born house, tired of their cockalorum and urging for her to engage more in the vampiric branch of her family. attend the parties, go human–hunting with the other blood–ingesting addicts, try this, do that. it all irked ellie the wrong way, made her psyche boil, cause all she wanted to fucking do was you. she craves only your blood, your taste, the metallic ribbons pumping your lifeline was like a goddamn nectar to her. and you let her feed, because you loved her. you let your meat sack of a body replace her breakfast, lunch, dinner– first and final meal.

that's why you let her move in with you. cause you fucking can. now, every itty–bitty token of her life tangles with yours on the walls. pictures and awards, a manifold of knickknacks cluttering the window sills, even her clothes tend to blend with yours– an illusive invitation for you to wear her clothes without the question ever pressing her lips apart. you both are madly besotted in each other. no denial objects to that.

and, fuck, this version of ellie is hot. fitted tanks absent of a bra– pale brown pierced nipples erecting the thin fabric into a small mound. gray wash skinny jeans that fit her lean legs well, waistband cruising nicely under that peek of a v–line, fraying at the ankle hems that contrasts into those battered up converse of a similar hue. oh, and usually cloaks her shoulders up in a sable leather jacket– with your name patched in. a jacket, so prized, alwaaays winds up hurled to some isolated and cimmerian corner of your room, purely cause she lacks the care to hang it up whenever she returns home in a scramble, fangs unsheathing for blood. her knees would find themselves pressing hard into the mattress beneath both of you, centering a large gully of weight where her half–unzipped crotch and your butt meet, thirstily rutting to the point of numbing your clit through the hard denim of your pants. her zinc button just kept pounding that shit, keeping you spread wide. while dry humping you, she'd moan and groan hot on your earlobe, fangs partial hooking on the rim, "mhh– fuck n' suck, babe– can i? fuuck.." 'fuck n' suck' was just some made–up code for, well, it should be obvious. times like those, where she intends to fuck her pussy rough on you without remorse, whilst drying your organs of blood.

ohh, but i'll write that in detail one day~

gothic vampire!ellie who lodges high on a hill, deep in the mighty fathomage of her grandoise palace, steeples scaping high into the howling sky– torn asunder by a network of lightning above. you're nothing but meat and blood, princess, a feast inside regalia. every freshwater pearl, every satiny reflection of light off your dress, only made your flesh more supple in her fluorescent fern eyes. those lucifer–damned pupils though, well, let's just say you can't even measure the green pool of her eyes anymore. dilating, big black saucers, ballooning the milken white away whenever she snags a glimpse of your blood. that phantom heartbeat of hers races madly, mad of love for that color. for that glisten of liquid. so divine, she thinks. a gulp bolts down her gullet when within a measly foot of you, or, more specifically, a mere gate between the two of your noses. how else is she supposed to store her cache of sustenance?

yes, that's precisely what i'm hinting at. a holding cell. dusty and decrepit, rats abundant skittering the stone ground, and you swore cobwebs began to web themselves in your hair– now loose and unbraided. that brute of a girl would crouch on the opposing side, dangling keys on a loop sat upon her finger, ploddingly wagging like a swinging great axe. taunt, taunt taunt taunt.. is all she would skip about and do. slip into your cell quickly and play with you. kitty–cornering you and blocking you in her arms, cooing how terribly sorry she feigns to be, for jailing you up and treating you like meat. however, tides turn, and so do emotions. could it be, the dracula upon the misty cliff– has fallen in love?

turns out, witty princesses with a snakish tongue and spit to spare really turned her on. fuck, even you cursed yourself for rending your guard and feeling a magnetic pull to that hunk of a beast, clad in her midnight black, puffed sleeves and collar drawstring shirt. finely sewn black trousers and shiny black boots, curse you, for finding something about that hellishly horrid outfit so handsome on her. there's– oh, this particularly noticeable asset tp her garb as well. the black dye was nearing translucency, and if you loitered your vision directly on her chest long enough, caught in the right cosmic light, you could see that waxen bosom and her nipples, light brown contrary to her vampiric skin. haha, how humiliating it was when she caught you staring at them as she stood in front of your sat stature, being so brazen enough to ask, "something caught your eye princess? shall i strip myself of this, then?" whilst her hands mindlessly tucked under the loose hem anyway, wringing the fabric over her head and banishing it aside. "here, feel my dead heart–" swirled her voice, thrusting her hand out to grasp yours, cold as the ice age, her mitts froze your wrists and yanked them forth, pressing them flat against her breast and swiping her thumb across your contrasting warm skin, leavening with excitement as you fondle. she stows her knee on the bed adjacent to your thigh, whispering, so.. so, hauntingly, "feel that? no pulse, no life, not a spark lives within me, dear." and it was nothing vastly far from the truth. beneath her erect nipple, was no beat. eyes widening to a moon, and lips parting to steal simply too much air, you shudder. was it fear, you shuddered for, or arousal? that's a tale, for another day.

[merbear25]

Can I get some face sitting with Shinji Hirako? 🙏🏻

He's thought about it so often since he first saw it in some *media*, but now that he has a girlfriend he just needs her to sit on his face 😩

Ohhhhhh my goodness. Okay... so you, my dear anon, got me thinking more and more about this man, so I hope I did it justice. 💜🧡

Being fairly adventurous in bed, he was no stranger to scouring the internet for inspiration. Coming across a certain video made his mind race, flooding him with fantasies of you and him. With those desires growing more intense, he just had to bring it up to you. He needed to act out those images with you.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), cum shot

Living out a fantasy (Shinji)

Curiosity got the better of him; scrolling the homepage of one of the most popular adult sites, there was a thumbnail that drew his attention.

Eyes glued to the video, his heart raced as his imagination crafted the image of you and him performing such an errotic act. He scanned through the recommendations, and then the tag soon after. Facesitting was forming into a borderline obsession, one which was becoming increasingly more difficult not to satisfy.

The itch to feel you trembling on top of his face, being forced into the submissive role between your legs: it was becoming too much. He had to bring it up, but without having been dating for too long, just blurting it out would be the most tactful and would leave him more open to rejection. No, he needed to get you in the right frame of mind for what he had a craving for.

Finding that right moment crept up on him. While you were in bed, wrapped up in each other's arms, there felt like no better time than the present. The steamy exchange of kisses when coupled with the feverish touches lured it out of him.

“Want ya to sit on my face,” he breathed, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip as his hands roamed your body.

“Oh? You want to drown in my pussy?” You added with the tone of a temptress.

His breath caught in his throat from how willing you were to explore his fantasies. Tasting your neck, he groaned against your sensitive skin. His hands gripped your hips and his fingers slid under the waistband of your underwear.

“Fuck, yeah.” His lust was becoming more and more unbearable. “Wanna feel ya cum on my tongue, shakin’ and beggin’ fer me.”

Ripping your bottoms down, your panties already had a pool of your need forming.

Growling at how much you wanted him, he couldn’t resist licking at it. “Already so wet fer me.” His hot breath bathed your pussy lips through the fabric.

You nodded slowly, adding a flirtatious smile. “It’s not hard to get so hot and bothered when the thought of you between my legs is at the forefront of my mind.”

Swiftly, he moved back up towards you and crashed his lips into yours. The hunger for you was immeasurable.

“Come ‘ere, baby,” his voice showed a tinge of pleading. He tugged at you to get into position as he laid down.

You hovered your dripping core over his face, teasing him with the sweet scent of your nectar that was just out of reach. Your hands caressed your hips as his did the same to your inner thighs.

His fingers traced the outer parts of your folds, already getting lost in the moments that were soon to come.

“Yer so goddamn gorgeous.”

You reveled in the praise he gave you so willingly. “Show me what else that silver tongue can do.”

Easing yourself down, your hands rested on the bed while his embraced your curves. Kissing up and down your slit, he slipped his tongue between it. You tasted delectable—a flavor that was his and his alone to indulge in.

Your velvety folds wrapping around his lips, the slickness of your walls, and the way they felt when you quaked around his tongue: it was heaven on Earth. His tongue slid against your clit, flicking it as you arched your back. Hot breath spread over your overstimulated bundle of nerves, causing sweet moans to trail past your quivering lips. 

He sucked at your sweet spot, nibbling at it in an attempt to hear every one of your choked cries of ecstasy. You clamped your hands at his chest. Clawing at his skin, that slight pain you were giving him heightened the frenzied lust.

While lapping at your fiery wanton, a long trail of his saliva coated your needy cunt. He kept his tongue flat but the tip hooked—each part of you savored on his taste buds.

Your craving for him was yearning to be sated. Sitting back on your personal seat, you shook your hips gently against his face.

“Gimme more, Shinji.” Your voice cracked from the rising desperation.

His hands roamed over your luscious thighs and ass. Every part of you felt like a dream, and the lustful sounds of your moans and his relentless lapping filling the room were enough to make him never want to wake up; this was the elixir from which he would gladly drown in.

Gripping at the fat around your hips, he pushed you down on his face. His tongue swirled with strong and determined motions—vertigo quickly found you.

You cried out for him as his thumb made small circles on your clit. The spark of desire you had was now spreading like wildfire: bounces becoming more enthusiastic, your nails digging more roughly into him, and choked gasps. 

Looking down at his hips through your half-lidded eyes, the wet beads of precum were dripping onto his stomach. His shaft was twitching more and more as the head darkened in color, alluding to his approaching climax.

The image of him shooting his cum all over his own body, solely getting off from pleasuring you, fueled those flames within.

“Fuck, it’s so good,” you gasped without thinking. Arching your body, your hair cascaded down your back. You were a goddess, and he was lucky enough to bask in your beauty—all of it.

With your eyes fluttering shut, you turned your face up towards the sky as if daring whichever god that was above to bear witness to your sin.

Your hand tangled in your hair and your other raked up his chest. A subtle smile appeared on your face, while you huffed and panted. 

“Just like that, yes, like that!” You cried. 

The sound of you reaching your peak flooded the room. Such an intoxicating performance was too much for him to hold back any longer. With a muffled groan, his neglected cock shot streams of cum across his abdomen. 

The uncharacteristically pathetic display: a cocky grin pulled at your lips. Lifting yourself off of him, the sight of his flushed face being drenched in your arousal was all too enticing. You cupped his face, admiring the way his gaze found yours for a moment before placing a tender yet passionate kiss upon his lips.

You trailed a few soft pecks up the bridge of his nose and on his forehead. Smirking against his skin you couldn’t help yourself, “I can’t wait to see what other ideas you come to me with.”

Your fingertips danced upon the droplets of cum still hanging onto his length, making him gasp slightly. You brought the cum to your mouth and sucked each morsel of it off of your fingers. He tossed his head back and groaned.

“Fuckin’ hell. If I’d known you were gonna take to it this easy, I’d ‘ve mentioned it sooner.” He leaned up on his forearm to get a bit closer to you. “But don’t ya worry that pretty little head of yers. I’ll leave ye beggin’ for more.”

[bitchlessdino]

Happy 3K Nana 🥳🥳🥳 I hope your celebration has been going well and, your actual vacation is even better.

Noone perceive me. So, because I have no sense of self-preservation, could I please request a drabble featuring ChanCheol. As long as it's smut related in some way, I leave the rest up to you. I'm excited and terrified to see what your brain comes up with.

Pairing: bf!Seungcheol x fem!reader x chan

Genre: smut, slight humor

Word count: 2.8k

tags: mention of infidelity, mentions of fem oral, banter, exhibitionism, vouyerism, body worship, choking, spitting, spanking, fingering, brief biting, blowjob, degradation, praise kink, brief hair pulling, unprotected sex, double penetration, oral fixation, plot twist

Summary: Being caught doing something you shouldn’t do is a big no-no, especially when it causes Chan to come across a 5’10 unit with muscular stature by the name of Seungcheol, your apparent boyfriend.

author note: how fun. my return i bring you a chancheol fic, pls enjoy as much as i enjoyed writing.

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun

“You taste like candy.”

His tongue traced your skin as if your sweat was pure concentrated nectar. Your giggles left your lips in a perfect melody, trickling as he made his way down your chest and wrapped them perfectly around the bulb of your nipple.

His moans vibrated off your body. Voice shaking to the point it could’ve been mistaken for weakness, but rather it was the radical opposite. When he replaced the plush felt of his lips to twist you between the pads of his fingers, he splayed effortlessly an intoxicating smile as the words he made left you begging for breath.

“Wanna worship every inch of skin. Fill your pretty pussy to the brim with cum. Make you mine.”

You’d drink every syllable, just as you planned to drink him up.

His bare skin was blistering, burning against yours as your legs hugged his sides. Your digits ran through his hair in fatigued confidence, thumbing over his smooth and flushed cheek. “Promise?” You asked in a sickly sweet voice.

“I’m a very bad liar, but I’m good at a lot of other things.”

You let out a light chuckle before you gripped his hair to meet his needy lips. His body enveloped yours in an overwhelming heat, muzzling your mind with incoherent thoughts. Together you were a symphony of lust, attraction, and animalistic instinct. 

That was then a deep voice made itself known at the bedroom door. It boomed like a loud drum, startling your intimate partner and causing him to jump away from you. He covered his naked body with the blanket kicked off to the corner of the bed, tugging you to his side to keep yourselves hidden beneath it.

Now the shake in his voice resembled fear, pupils trembling back at the intruder. “W-who are you?”

“Ask my question first before I answer yours. Having. Fun?”

Chan’s eyes rapidly blinked for Seungcheol’s, barely meeting the other man’s eyes, clutching the fabric as if letting go would mean letting go of his life. He swallowed with effort, giving a prompt nod of his head, hoping desperately it was a good enough response.

“Now, to answer your question. I’m the boyfriend of the girl you’re fucking.”

You could feel the other body stumble behind you, physically processing the information he had just been told. “B-Boyfriend? Boyfriend?!”

“Yeah.” Seungcheol's steel stiff body took one heavy step over the other until towered over your bodies, eyes piercing back at them in a cold, intimidating gaze. “Boyfriend.”

“Look m-man. I’m sorry. For real. There’s no way I could’ve known.”

Your boyfriend snickered. “You think that’s a fucking excuse to be fucking my goddamn girlfriend?”

“No! No. I mean—“

“What’s your name, kid?”

Chan held the blanket closer, tighter, against him. If he was sweating already from the foreplay, he was shooting bullets of nerves down his forehead from fear. “Please, man. I’ll leave.”

“You think you’re better at fucking her than me? You think your cock can do worse damage?” With every word, there was seething venom on the man’s tongue, burning tension in the already charged air.

Chan violently shook his head. “N-no sir, please I didn’t know. I’ll get out of your way.”

“You think I’ll just let you fuck my girlfriend and not want to know who it is she’s fucking?”

“At this point, I just want to go home. I’m not—“ he gulped, “a home wrecker. Not intentionally anyway—“

“Fuck her in front of me.”

 Chan blinked, “What?”

Seungcheol slyly grinned. “You heard me. Fuck her like I’m not here. Fuck her like she’s yours.” Your boyfriend veered his eyes on you. “That’s just what you want. Isn’t that right, you little succubus?”

You giggled a cheeky grin on your face, clinging to Chan’s arm as you locked eyes with the other man. “Yes, baby. I want him to bury his cock deep inside me until I’m crying.”

Chan shivered, cock tensing underneath the blanket much closer to its initially aroused state as heat crept the back of his neck and across his cheeks.

“Of course you do,” Seungcheol snickered, “my little slut is always so hungry for attention.” He picked up your chin between his fingers before smoothing his thumb over your jaw. “Ask him. I’m sure he’ll do what you say.”

You turned to Chan with the guide of Seungcheol’s friendly hands cascading over your body like silk drapes, they smoothed over your neck and shoulders delicate but with the weight of a ship anchor cupping a single breast. Chan’s face was overwritten with shock, unsure what part of you to look at. “Chan…” you moaned, like a siren calling to a sailor at sea, the weak helpless sailor being Chan.  “Fuck me, please. Fill me to the brim with your cum like you said you would.”

The devil himself let out a shallow breath, the carrot dangling right in front of him. He drew closer to you, hand reaching up to your neck before a digit descended down your neck, “Can I really do that?”

“Of course, you can,” Seungcheol interjected, “Just fuck her like you mean it.” Seungcheol rolled your buds between his finger, eliciting a whimper from within you and your body jerked toward him behind you. “She likes it rough. ‘Enough to leave her sore’ rough. Can you provide? Chan?” He asked him solemnly, the name sounded foreign the way he enunciated it.

“I can,” Chan answered confidently for once, fueled by a festering competitive spirit. “Like I told gorgeous here, I’m a bad liar. I’ll fuck her just how she wants me to.”

“Prove you’re not all talk then.” 

A switch was flipped. The hungry gazes on you had doubled and your heart pounding sound enough to be heard through a vast sea. Chan pushed you against the mattress, caressing the shape of your body as if ingraining the image through touch before the pads of his fingers dug into your plush flesh. 

You felt the unremorseful spat against your already wet pussy, Chan's fingers running sloppily over your slit as his other hand clashed with your ass. His fingers entered you fast and deep, giving you a taste of what was about to come. 

Chan licked his lips at the sight of you, letting his digits push in and out of you as you made those sweet, delectable sounds, looking just as–if not more–delectable yourself. Just like that, his throat was as dry as a drought in a desert, inching closer to your honey-coated folds and  panting to your beckoning until he’s atoms away. He held his gaze to you, a hopeful wish in his heart that the image of your pretty cunt never vanishes or fades from memory. 

It was then Chan was yanked by his blonde hair. Tugged at the root ,wincing out in annoyed pain, he now sneered back at the man who halted Chan's steps towards the gates of his personal heaven. 

Seungcheol slyly grinned back at the bitter-looking individual before forcing his face parallel to his. The elder clicked his tongue as if scolding him, wrapping his fingers tighter around the boy's hair when he felt protest. “You may get to have her, but you don’t get to taste her like I do. Have her anyway but that. She’s still mine.”

Chan muttered some not-so-nice things under his breath before agreeing. He let out a sigh of relief as he was let go,  annoyed now more than scared. “Fine, I’ll have no choice but to show no mercy then.”

Chan dragged you by your thighs and pushed himself against the cushion of your ass. You let out a rich moan as you felt him twitch against you. The head of his cock rubbed against the curve of your posterior before it slid through the divide, teasing you until you practically begged him to put it inside you. 

His responses to your pleas are anything but generous, only kind enough to sting your bottom cheeks with the flat palms of his hand. “So needy…”

He’s surprised to not hear fits of pain, but rather hearty moans of pleasure, urging more harsher strikes to your body that left you in a raw lust. “You like that? You’ll like this even more.”

Even with the warning, nothing prepares you for fullness from Chan making his presence known. His cock filled you with strain, stretching you to your wits. “Chan…”

“Whining already? I barely put it in.”

The smug in his voice only made you want him more, making you claw at your sheets like an undomesticated pet. 

“Excuse her,” Seungcheol entered, “She can act out at times.”

“Then I’ll put her in her place.”

Seungcheol chuckled, counting character points Chan has just gained from his response. “I like the way you think.”

Every thrust had the power of every fully winded stroke of his hand, slamming both your cheeks against the heat of his lap. Your face once buried in your face rose up to the surface by Chan’s vice grip on the column of your neck. The moment he made contact, you could feel the closing of your airways as he compressed around the girth, not once faltering as you swallowed every inch of cock.

Your cheek to his face, he could listen to every choked breath hardly escaping. “Take it. You said you like it rough, didn’t you? Until you cry, right?”

“Y-yes…m-more…”

“He’s fucking you that good?” The glint in your boyfriend's eyes excited you, as well as the permanent grin on his face as he moved dangerously close. “Needy little slut taking a stranger’s dick while I watch? You like that?”

“Yes, baby. He’s fucking me so good. His dick makes me so full.”

“Such a cute thing you are. Just you want until I get my hands on you too. Chan, stretch her mouth open. Warm her up for me.”

You felt another hand creep against your face, tugging you at the corner of your mouth. Through your gags, Chan managed to gradually insert each digit until there none were left. He could feel every finger coat in your thick salvia, plunge deeper as his cock rocked in you faster, heartier. 

Meanwhile, your front watched Seungcheol take apart his clothes. Every muscle, every pec, every ab in place and none the other wise. Your voice broke out in anguish as he exposed himself from his trousers, his lengthy cock making an appearance like the star of the show. Your eyes trailed his hand through every stroke, every squeeze, watching as he edged himself in a controlled manner. You wanted to relieve him of that burden, make it so it choked around your throat instead, but you knew you’d get the pleasure soon enough.

“Stay as pretty as you are, little succubus.”

Your boyfriend replaced Chan’s fingers, filling a space that fit what he offered rather cohesively like two perfect pieces of a puzzle. You blinked back your tears, hot moisture running down your face furiously as his cock massaged the inside your mouth and eventually down your throat, hitting you head first.

“That’s it,” he winced, “pretty little mouth taking cock like it’s what you’re made to do.”

He took the back of your head to make you bob on him, the squelching sounds music to his ears. 

“That’s so hot,” Chan commented in a breathy speech, “take him deeper.”

You were shaking, being used past your limits, and filled to the brim with cock on both ends. At this point, your eyes could only make out shapes and colors, blurred by your tears and loss of oxygen. The only coherent thought of holding cum inside you running through your mind. Their grunts were your background music, and the praises, and degradation was the melody. You begged through choked sounds as if you were on your last leg, not caring how much in pain you’d be in the aftermath. 

“Came twice already and you are begging for more?” 

“She’s very greedy. You want us to cum in you, little whore? Can you take being that full?”

Physically speaking, you were sure if you had a straight answer, but mentally, the thought made your stomach churn incredulously. You nodded, echoing every yes you had within you until Seungcheol pulled out of your mouth to hear you more clearly, “What was that? Let me hear that again.”

“C-cum in me,” you said through your heavy, hot sobs, “let me feel every inch of me full of cum, please…”

“I think she really wants it,” Chan teased.

Seungcheol grinned, parting your hair from your face. “Let’s not waste any time then.”

Planted on your side, both men were on either your front or back, taking residency in your walls at uneven paces. Chan pushed himself against your backside, allowing you to imagine the sculpt of his body through touch. He forced you to arch, guiding your body so he could plummet inside the very depth of you, while Seungcheol held up your front.

The heat of your boyfriend's tongue steals your breath along with the energy in his hips. He glued your thigh to his side, gripping you against him as the other man’s leg follows after you, overlapping you. You couldn’t help but feel so wanted, so spoiled, every grateful word in the dictionary. But no one was more grateful than the newcomer who was any second from exploding inside you. “Pussy feels so f-fucking heavenly. Your boyfriend’s so lucky.”

“Yes, I fucking am,” Seungcheol growled, “maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get to find pussy almost as precious as my pretty baby here.”

“If I’m only so lucky,” Chan chuckled against your skin, “maybe I need to learn a thing or two from you?”

“Handsome thing like you,” the out of the blue, a hand is on Chan’s ass, “with an ass like this.”

“Likewise,” Chan revealed a toothy grin, “one nice ass to another.”

You could feel Seungcheol’s smile against your lips and a second later, you hear the boisterous sound of skin colliding, urging an abrupt slam of Chan’s hips against your backside. “I like you, kid, maybe I’ll keep you.”

Utter shock ran through the younger man, followed by arousal and a string of cusses. Chan clung to your side, trembling, teeth digging into your shoulder. “Fuck, fuck.”

Eventually, the rhythms find a mutual harmony. Your toes curled helplessly as thick threads of silky white released inside you, the legs of men clamping you down on the bed. You clutched your boyfriend, determined to not spill a drop, but relaxed as the fatigue hit you. They splayed you out once you were finished, joining your side in rest. You looked of bliss, taking in a gust of breath as you relieved yourself.  “Wow. Great job, guys. That turned out better than I expected.”

“Yeah, Chan those acting classes really are coming in handy,”

The blonde rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Do you guys always take role-playing this seriously? I’m pretty sure Cheol bruised my ass cheek.”

“And I’ll do it again. You have a nice ass.”

You missed the banter. It was a little foreign to not have it almost the entire time. “And we’re back to reality.”

“I guess I don’t have much to complain about. You both did open the relationship for me. Thank you,” Chan hummed with glee. “Though it really would’ve been nice to have gotten to eat you out. Maybe once some time has passed—“

“In your dreams, twerp,” Seungcheol quickly retorted.

“Oh, I’ll be dreaming of it alright.” Chan nudged your face his way, “I’ll be dreaming of a lot of things I want to do with you.”

“Why dream if I’m here,” you grinned back, “I’m yours too now.”

His fingers ran through your hair adoringly, a cartoonish sparkle in his eye. “You are now, huh?”

Seungcheol thought he’d be jealous but it turned out better than he thought it would. It seemed that everyone was happy, even him, the guy that got the worst end of the deal but what more could he want than the smile on your face looking at him or Chan? 

Seungcheol nuzzled closer to you both collectively, his chin hooking in the crook of your neck. “We’re each other’s now. It's new, but I think I like it. I’m glad to hear you both do too.”

Chan looked over at his now boyfriend(?) in gratitude and joined in, sandwiching you in between. “I’m grateful for my first poly relationship if it’s with you both. I think it’d only work if it’s with you two.”

You smiled the hardest you ever had tonight, making an effort to embrace them both, and feel the warmth that radiated off their body keep you warm. “I think we’re gonna work out just fine.”

To be continued…

[gummy-sharks666]

What the fuck drugs and nectar of the gods did they put in this song for it to be so goddamn good

[spiritualgangstrb4be]

There is nothing sexier than a man who knows how to traverse the juicy pathways of his own heart. A man who can stand to be called out on his shit. A man who, when you boldly ask him to be there, says yes-hell yes...and shows up beautifully, with every ounce of his beating heart.

There is nothing more beautiful than a man who talks openly and passionately about what’s on his mind rather than pulling far away and glossing it over with a bullshit generic response of

“I’m fine.”

There is nothing more breathtaking in the world than a man who knows the salty taste of tears. A man who lets you see him on his worst days...stripped, sad and raw...vulnerability hanging out of his split-open heart like ripped ribbons.

There is nothing more bone-suckin’ delicious than a man who knows how to take care of a woman, how to touch her softly and fiercely at the same time, how to fuck her wildly while gazing gently into the sapphire depths of her soul, how to set her free while claiming her and make her feel like a cherished jewel of divinity, like the goddess she is.

There is absolutely nothing more astounding than a man who kisses like he could die five minutes from now. A man who understands the preciousness of this breath, this inhale…and exhale. A man who wants nothing more than to face the world together as you both smile, breathe, set the air around you on delicate fire, transcend bullshit and ascend towards nectar galaxies far too beautiful to comprehend.

There is nothing more maddeningly magnificent than a man who pulls you close and declares his love for you, and shouts it from the rooftops like music, and weaves his fingers through yours with ripe enthusiasm, and isn’t scared to call you too soon, and call you out on your shit, and call you the luscious love of his life.

There is nothing more goddamn gorgeous than a man who is fiercely himself, who holds the strongest heart space in his warm, sultry embrace...for you to bloom, blossom, flourish and soar...as he does the same.

At the end of every dissolving sands, apricot sunset-soaked day —

There is nothing sexier than a man who knows how to love himself. A man who values the truth running through his veins like sacred ink. A man brave enough to be there for you and himself when shit is beautiful and when it’s completely falling apart.

This is the kind of man you deserve. A man who isn’t afraid of emotion. A man who shows up one hundred percent. A man who is ready...who craves every drop, drip and ounce of an authentic, earthy goddess of a wonderful woman like you. Let him kiss you with his entire being until you remember who you really are.

Don’t settle down with him...

Settle UP into a more luscious, technicolor life. A life so beautiful it hurts sometimes. A life so fulfilling you’ll never be thirsty again. A life so freeing and spun of soul it makes you dizzy. Anything less than this heartfelt, present, purely sacred beauty is a goddamn tragedy.

Don’t settle Down...

Settle UP. ‘Cause when the divine masculine meets the divine feminine, magic happens. The sweetest magic of all.

- unknown

[ebongawk]

It wasn't intentional, really.

Don't get him wrong, Chrissy Cunningham's scent always drove him fucking insane. Some floral mix of nectar and wildflowers that made Eddie want to sink his teeth into and drown in her gardens.

The third-rate blockers from the clinic in Indianapolis barely kept him from losing his mind on a daily fucking basis.

But that specific day, it was like he'd walked through the side door at school and was goddamn bulldozed by her.

Narrowly avoiding collapsing, Eddie gasped, one hand automatically coming up to cover his nose as his eyes searched for the culprit of his deepest fantasies.

He knew exactly where she was. He always knew exactly where she was.

Tucked under the arm of a smarmy little dickweed that did nothing to suppress the mouthwatering aroma cascading from her skin. She looked–– terrified. Like she–– Like she knew what was happening, but couldn't bring herself to accept it. Stormy blue eyes bore holes into the ground, arms wrapped so tightly around her books that they flexed.

Shit.

Fuck.

Eddie couldn't do anything except stare. Something ancient and predatory screamed in his chest, scratching at the jailcell bars of his ribs and begging for release.

And her scent––

An imperceptible growl hollowed out his lungs, nearly lost within the drone of students; yet Chrissy's eyes automatically snapped toward him. She saw him, he knew she did, because the garden suddenly fucking bloomed, miles of flowers opening toward the sun, and Smarmy Dickweed leaned away from her.

"You try a new perfume or something today, babe?" he asked, his features pinched in confused distaste. Good. She wasn't his to admire, and the arm around Chrissy's shoulders looked all at once like something so easily broken. "It's, uh. It's really strong."

Chrissy wasn't paying attention. Her eyes were locked on Eddie's, heated pleading buried beneath layers of desire and want and unknowing. The step she took toward him seemed almost involuntary. The second was more sure.

And the third was––

"A-Alpha," she breathed, and the beast snapped Eddie's ribs in half, tearing its way from the prison of flesh and bone and blockers and roaring in triumph. She was in his arms in the next moment, the shouting indignation of their peers nothing more than staticky background noise.

The moment her skin found his, her scent folded over, becoming something designed for his nostrils alone. Her features softened with understanding, a small smile playing at her lips.

"Eddie," she sighed, leaning toward him.

And he finally accepted what he'd known all along.

She was meant to be his.

[meanderingfamilytree]

Contains: GN!Reader, M!Bailey, noncon, omegaverse, blackmail (kind of???), threats of mentioned sharing, an obscene amount of Bailey’s bastardery

Written as part of The Omega Hunt collab

Around 2k words

The leaves of the forest bristle against the wind. The scent of lust permeates the air, dripping like honey against the tongue. Though some remain oblivious to it, like Bailey himself, even betas wear a primal hunger like a second skin. Bailey’s eyebrows twitch at the sight of the town’s most prominent alphas all worked up. The omega scents must practically call for them—oh, take me, fuck me, alpha—and in turn, the alpha scents must render those poor little omegas helpless to their touch. 

In a way, it is a disappointment. But Bailey is used to disappointments. It was inevitable from the moment Quinn delighted over their genius idea of spraying all the omegas with an aphrodisiac to trigger their heat. Have them squirming and easier to subdue, pliant and mewling—eager, even. He understands the appeal. It is less work, isn’t it? And this crowd may prefer that.

Bailey prefers the brutal; bruises and finger marks, violence in the form of skin against skin. Is it really fucking without it? He would rather take you in a single, fierce thrust whilst your hole is still dry, shoving his cock inside you. Render you gradually helpless as you accept that this has indeed happened—this is your only reality. Fuck you until you reek sharply of nothing but semen and blood. 

Unfortunately, things do not always work out in Bailey’s favour. Instead, he would have you served in a goddamn silver platter, all turned on and squirming. Pleasant, in its own way, he tells himself. Beggars can’t be choosers. 

Bailey could not possibly turn down the invitation for the hunt. In fact, shouldn’t he be given credit for this entire event? Dear Mayor Quinn struts around proudly, but this hunt would not have happened at all without Bailey. He had been the one to tug and hassle with all those omega brats as they whinged and whined to maturity. He served as a firm fist to hold them on a tight leash until this day, keeping their sorry little ass safe from trouble. Acknowledgement doesn’t matter too much, however. As long as Quinn’s money sufficiently lines his pockets, it is enough. And he gets to have you. His rightful reward. 

You are the reddest apple of the bunch—and doesn’t Bailey deserve to sink his teeth into the best? Lap up the sweet, tangy nectar as it runs down his wrist?

Bailey looks around, and all he can see are animals gathered in anticipation of the upcoming hunt. Each and every one of them is a reflection of himself, no matter how much they usually pretend otherwise.

What is there to account here but for hunger? Greed, lust, desire, impulse, fate, love, call it what you want. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. At its root, Bailey considers it pure, unadulterated hunger and nothing more. 

The willingness to devour; swallow you whole. That crumbling feeling in the pit of his stomach when he looks at you must be hunger. He will lick every inch of your body clean. Suck on your lips, pull at it, and nibble on the base of your throat. Take you, because that is all Bailey knows how to do—he is a greedy man, fingers clawed and grasping at all the world offers.

He had watched you for a while now. Examined the flexing of your fingers and the lines of your waist from a distance as you made a life in the orphanage. Nothing broke you yet, did it? Life was likely difficult for an orphan and an omega at that. But somehow, you are still moving, living. With eyes that breathe with hidden light, unlike Bailey’s. 

Bailey wonders if you really smell as intoxicating as those alphas enthuse about. Though he has always considered his beta status a convenience in his profession, detached from a primal, blind lust, it is a pity for once. In the quiet corner of his mind, he laments being unable to take you fully. 

No matter.

He’ll still be able to look into your eyes when he fucks you. See his own reflection within your pupils. Watch as the light flicker and die.

It makes Bailey’s stomach clench.

And you are oblivious to all of Bailey’s thoughts. Sure, you know that a fucking bunch of perverts are chasing after you. You know that your fate will likely be dim if you are caught, so you run. Bare-footed, tripping and tumbling to the ground, but running. It is a frantic flee from the looming shadow.

But it’s so difficult. A tantalising hunger at your core is tearing you apart from the inside out. You nearly want to turn around and throw yourself at the nearest alpha. A persistent throb between your legs doesn’t subside no matter how far you run; instead, it only intensifies. 

In the lawless haze of pleasure haunting your own mind, you do not realise you are running in circles. After all, with an aphrodisiac sprayed all over your body and in the tangled wildness of forest trees, one gets easily lost. 

You are too tired soon enough. The trees around you seem relatively quiet, and the wind doesn’t betray the scent of any nearby alpha. The temptation of a brief rest is too strong. Just to catch your breath, and no, your hands are definitely not tentatively touching between your legs, searching desperately for any sort of reprieve. 

It isn’t hard for Bailey to find you. 

Bailey watches you pant, gulping in shallow breaths like a fish drowning in water. Your eyes dart this way and that, momentarily relieved of your perceived solitude. Perhaps it would be amusing to stay hidden a little longer. Indulge you. He does not approach you but only leisurely traces the lines of your body, each curve and bend. The sheen of sweat against your skin looks like fucking silk—or is it velveteen? It is almost ridiculous. 

Fuck it.

He walks out from his hiding place; you scream. 

Like a frightened deer, you try to run—only to be caught by unhesitant fingers pulling at your hair. In a swift, detached movement, Bailey pushes you down on the ground and mounts you easily. 

You struggle. But Bailey only tightens his hold of you as he shoves his left knee between your leg.

“I would shut up, if I were you,” he snaps, “Keep screaming and others might decide to happily join us. Would you prefer that?” 

Bailey is rather glad that he is not you, actually. He would’ve even pitied you if he was not who he made himself to be. But that is beside the point. The point is that he would like to fuck you right now. Hunger always triumphs. 

He rubs his knee against your groin with the slightest pressure, and you fall apart. It’s only natural, considering the state you are in, but all the more fun to mock.

“Turned on already, are you?” Bailey asks. His hands grip and fondle your skin—starting from your nape, your hard nipples, down to your waist, and to the insides of your thighs. 

I will claim you here, he thinks. As mine. Not much of your life will change. You will stay in the orphanage for another year, just while regularly bouncing on my cock. Panting, tongue hanging out, until you truly become a bitch in heat. Until you drool with hunger as fierce as my own, until the light in your eyes finally goes out, until I break you. But I’ll bring you back here next year; you will join the hunt again. And I’ll hunt you, claim you, fuck you with a vicious hunger again, and again, and again—year after another, and another, and another. Until I get bored of you. After that, I might even sell you off to the highest bidder; I can’t monopolise you forever, can I? But until then, you belong to me. And even then, you would always be my property.

Bailey does not hesitate. 

“I could call for the others, you know,” he threatens, as he lines his cock against your lips, “Show them what a pretty sight you make.” Slowly, he rubs the shaft on your face, disregarding how you wince and cringe. “I know all the worst bastards in town. Perhaps I could have them claim you instead?” 

These are all empty threats, not that you know that it is. You know with a devastating certainty who Bailey is and how far he is willing to go. So when he finally thrusts his cock into your mouth, you ensure that your teeth don’t scrape against the shaft. 

It’s too deep. Gasping for air, you feel your face redden. His cockhead touches the back of your throat. All you taste and smell is him and nothing more. Bailey’s fingers dig into your hair, grasping onto it as if it’s a convenient handle. Your eyes water, but Bailey slaps your face warningly if you try to close it, even for a split second. 

Why me? You wonder. Why me, and not the omega who used the room across the hallway? Perhaps you should be relieved that at least you know the true nature of the man who is brutalising you. There is no naive hope here. No glimpse of false light in the darkness of the tunnel, no hoping that maybe, maybe this alpha or beta wouldn’t be too much of an asshole.

Even as you despised Bailey the entire time under his care, you did not expect… this. Somehow, you thought that he was incapable of feeling anything, really, but anger and annoyance. Not even desire. Not even hunger. This makes him feel too human. As you taste Bailey’s cock, he becomes no different from all the rest of the nameless, faceless townspeople, lusting after pleasure.

What makes the whole ordeal worse is how much your entire body increasingly pulses with desire. In a lightheaded, giddy, trance-like state, you undeniably, inexplicably want his cock. Not just in your mouth but inside your hole. Fucking you whole. 

After what feels like a lifetime, Bailey takes out his fully hardened cock from your mouth. When he places each of your ankles on his shoulders, your legs are spread wide open, revealing your twitching, eager little hole. 

He shoves his cock inside you in a single motion, and it plunges in deep with surprising ease. It is as if your body has been longing for it all this time—the ultimate betrayal. 

Even so, you choke from the momentary pain. Then comes the blinding pleasure. You can feel every inch of his cock—thick, firm, and warm inside your body. Bailey rubs the end of his nose against your neck, and for a moment, he deceives himself that he can really smell you; perhaps he can finally know the intoxicating, torturing scent of omegas. But the moment passes. What he really smells is a mixture of sweat and fear and the sweet soap that you wash your body every day with.  

Moaning involuntarily, you try to clasp your palm against your lips to silence it; Bailey does not allow it. He holds your wrist above your head as his thrusts set into a methodical yet unpredictable rhythm. You cry out loud. 

Yet this hunger is relentless. Even while Bailey fucks you hard and rough, the knot in his stomach only seems to wind up tighter and tighter. Perhaps it is not so much a hunger but a thirst.

Your hunger is relentless too. Whilst the sensation of a cock spreading you wide open takes the edge off momentarily, it does not satisfy you. After all, Bailey is a beta and nothing more. Your omega nature squirms desperately for an alpha to claim you, rut against you. 

But there is no one else here. 

No one but Bailey. 

Bailey, who you hated with an undying passion since the very beginning and evermore. Bailey, who would never be enough for you. Would never be your alpha. In turn, you will never be his. At least, that is what you tell yourself. 

He kisses your lips with all teeth—a clash rather than the gentle embrace of the lips. Things seem marginally better. Choking back a sound of pleasure, he shuts his eyes. 

He does not see his own image reflected in your eyes—perhaps it is better that way, at least for his sanity, not that there is much left anyway.  

Bailey spends inside your hole with a sharp grunt as your body limply shudders at the sensation. It is almost gentle, the way that he picks away the damp hair clinging onto your forehead after that. His fingers travel across your cheek and onto your neck. 

He could easily choke you like that; his fingers grasp your neck. But he does not apply any pressure. 

Bailey kisses you again; this time with tenderness.

You close your eyes. 

[tujhse-raabta]

give me two to three lines from all your wips, posted or unposted

FUN TIMES ILY ANON

went a little overboard lmao, and like one of these is suggestive so be warned

gently in the cold, dark earth

“Divinity seeps from your every pore." whispers his god. Apollo ducks his head, warm air blowing on his collarbone with each word he utters. “When I put my lips to your skin,” and the god does, “I can taste its sweetness. Sweeter than any nectar the gods could hope to invent.”

i'll show you my teeth

"You don't know what I'd do for him." Luke's voice is low, yet more dangerous than any army the dead could hope to form. His skin, red from the sharp blessing of the Styx, almost glows with his rage. "I've deceived, misled and betrayed my Titan Lord, all for the sake of that kid you've grabbed by the neck. Let him go if you want to live, Lord Hades."

where men become gods

"Your daughter would've been sixteen this year, would she have not?" Poseidon's voice is cool as ice - a well placed barb at his brother's defences. "Shame that Bianca Di Angelo was lost to you. Just as you intend to have Sally lost to me."

Hades stares, nothing but shock on his face, that fades away to a desperate grief. "What do you know about Bianca? And Nico? Brother, if you-"

i’ll pay for my place (in your heart)

"I never said I killed Meg." His voice, soft in a way it shouldn't be.

Percy hates the hope swirling in his ribcage, just as he hates the man before him.

(He doesn't.)

There is a stinging ache in the back of his throat, sharper than the blooming imprint of Apollo's hand at the base of his neck.

ten things I hate about you!

Prince of Prissiness, King of Suits, the Chesapeake fucking Ripper, Hannibal Lecter, is wearing jeans. Goddamn jeans.

Will adjusts his trousers, trying to a, avoid Beverly's knowing look and b, remind his dick that this is a cannibalistic serial killer.

His pants become tighter. Traitorous body, he mourns, abruptly sitting down.

Hannibal smirks. Fucker.

till reachin' out for sunlight (just to be ripped out by the stem)

The true fall wasn't the darkening of feathers, or the strokes of rotted ichor painting Heaven’s infinite expanse. It hadn't been the hurling descent into burning sulphur.

It had been Her wrenching away Her love from them as if it were a physical thing, the equivalent of a heart in all the ways that mattered. It had been Her ripping out their Name and their Purpose, all at once, kicking them from more than everything to less than nothing in Her eyes.

to hold me like water

Aziraphale feels a vague, bewildering sensation of nausea at the thought.

He shoves it down. There is no reason for it, and he is certainly one you can count on for reasonability.

He did reason himself out of the decision that would have made him the happiest of all, had he not?

[gachag0d]

Blasting Joji at 3 A.M. ANGST | Obey Me x Joji In Tongues

Synopsis: Sorting the Obey Me characters into which Joji In Tongues songs I think they would blast at 3 A.M during sad hours.

Characters: The Brothers and The Dateable (-Luke)

CW: Joji's music is explicit and contains Swearing, Mentions of Self Harm, Thoughts of Suicide, Alcohol and Drug Abuse, Implied Violence, Unrequited love, & Possessiveness.

A/N: If anyone can tell me how to put the smaller Spotify music player in a post, I would forever be in your debt. Putting the link in only puts the huge player in, and when I try to put the HTML code, it tells me that's its unsupported. I would be so grateful for help.

Ballads 1 | In Tongues | Nectar pt. 1 | Nectar pt. 2 | Smithereens

"Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips? Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips? Will your lover caress you the way, that I did? Will you notice my charm, if he slips up one bit? 'Cause I don't need to know I just wanna make sure you're okay (Okay) I don't need to know I just wanna make sure you're all safe All safe, all safe"

LUCIFER, Asmodeus, Mammon, Solomon

"Please don't run away Please don't run away Where'd you go? I thought we'd last forever Where'd I go? I was sinking through the leather I need you back I need you back (yeah, yeah, yeah)"

BELPHEGOR, Mammon, Simeon, Beelzebub

"This is not a threat, I promise (nope) I promise This is not a threat, I promise It's a warning baby I just want you to know That's when the ceiling caved in And I'm falling in a trench, I'm behaving I'm behaving myself I'm behaving myself We don't gotta die so soon So I just behave for you (for you, for you) We don't gotta die so soon So I just behave for... shh, (quiet)"

SATAN, Belphegor, Solomon

"I see nothing out the window, window Nothing out the window Watching all the leaves grow, leaves grow Feels better in my dreams though, dreams though And the sun will shine, no more The sun will shine (antidote), no more I've been holding on, too long Holding on too I know when the wind blows, wind blows Feels better in my dreams though, dreams though I just wanna sleep forever Please just let me leave, forever"

BELPHEGOR, Diavolo, Barbados

"I find it hard to be myself I shed my skin for everybody else You don't know me, what the fuck you mean? You made me sad and you made me mean And now I'm mad, I feel unclean 'Cause I'm a bitter fuck 'Cause I'm a bitter fuck You made me a bitter fuck Ay, (fuck), ay Now I'm a bitter fuck They call me a bitter fuck Because of you Because of you"

SATAN, Leviathan, Belphegor, Lucifer

"I looked at you and said, oh oh oh. “Don’t hate me, am I crazy?” So tenderly you watch me burn, You watch me burn oh. So tell me, am I crazy? Cause I do, cause I do. Cause I do, cause I do. Cause I do, cause I do. Ooh, ooh la la la la la la la la la la. Goddamn. Ooh, and I don’t wanna die. No I don’t wanna die. No I don’t wanna die."

SIMEON, Mammon, Leviathan

"I can't do this face to face But I'll admit that I'm afraid Let this romance go to waste Excuse me for my plastic taste Excuse me for my plastic taste Excuse me for my plastic taste Excuse me for my plastic taste Excuse me for my plastic taste Let these moments go to waste Go to waste"

LEVIATHAN, Satan, Mammon

"And if the stars collide, will she relieve my soul? And when we feel alive I know she'll let me go When you read my lips, I know you feel all cold But I promise you my heart is made of gold I don't wanna waste my time if I can't make you decide You're only on my mind when I need you I don't need to know about what you do when the sun goes down Cause I don't gotta know about nothing Cause I don't gotta know..."

BARBADOS, Lucifer, Mammon