#fic: in the heat of battle

[a-lonely-dunedain]

finally! the long put off awaited continuation of the Reverse Amnesia Loop I left on an unfortunate cliffhanger despite promising @hallothere I would continue it! (oops) Wherein Tossdir doing something reckless actually ends up helping yay

sorry my brain stopped letting me Write Words for a bit. again. anyway I feel like I'm rusty but idk. this kept getting So Long.

He knows.

You have no idea how, but he knows.

The man you ran into on the street a few moments ago, the one built like a siege tower, looked at you a bit strangely before you took off. You didn’t think much of it, but then he called after you, and when you started running, so did he.

You can only think of one reason he would be pursuing you, and that is that he somehow knows you stole that relic from the Houses of Lore earlier today. 

You didn’t think anyone would have noticed it was gone so soon, you didn’t think anyone would have been able to track you down so quickly. You figured you would be able to stay out of sight until tonight, and then no one would have any way of knowing it was you. But you couldn’t stay locked in the cisterns all day, you needed food, but you realize you made a mistake in coming out here.

You duck and weave between vendor stalls and stacks of crates in an effort to lose him. For a moment you think it works, but the next moment you see him still on your tail.

Really, you shouldn’t even be running. You don’t have the relic with you, you’ve already hidden it far away so there’s no longer any risk to anyone here. If he catches you he might turn you over to the guards, but they’ll just forget, and you’ll be able to slip away tonight like you did the last time something like this happened.

You nearly knock over someone's produce display in your haste, and you sputter out an apology to the owner without slowing your pace.

The sensible thing to do would simply be to turn yourself over and spend the rest of the day locked up –hell, you might even get a meal out of it– but you are operating on instinct now, which has ever held mastery over what little sense is contained in that thick skull of yours. Currently, it has decided that you’re going to behave like a scared rabbit. Maybe you would be a little braver if you had your friends with you, if Ethedis Faeron or Bregadir were here, but you do not have friends or a family anymore. They do not know you.

When fleeing into the crowded areas proves fruitless, you duck into an alleyway and attempt to lose him in the narrow backstreets. This would be easier if you knew the ways of the city better, but unfortunately, you do not. 

Still, you manage to lose sight of him for a little bit. You stop with your hands on your knees, gasping for breath. Did you lose him? You might have lost him- wait no, there he is. 

You hiss obscenities under your breath that Meneldir would have scolded you for, and take off again.

You may be faster than him, but he is far more persistent. Always a few steps behind you, always. You know you won’t be able to outlast him. You stumble, fall, and land on your leg crooked. You find yourself unable to stand right away, then not two moments later the tall man is kneeling in front of you. 

You flinch when his hand grips your shoulder, but he doesn't seem to have it in mind to hurt you just yet, just holding you in place in case you plan to start running again.

“Alright, now that I have your attention,” his voice is calm and steady, he’s not even breathing hard. Looks like he did not break a sweat in the chase. You find yourself more terrified of him. “care to tell me what that was all about?” he asks calmly, seeming more annoyed and confused than anything else.

You just blink in bewilderment. Does he… does he not know about the stolen relic? Then why would he have bothered following you? Also why is his hand so cold?

“I could- ask the same thing of you-” you manage to gasp out. “Why on earth were you chasing me?”

“I needed to speak to you, and I would not have chased you if you did not run. I did not mean to frighten you, but it was important. Now, I think you owe me an answer or two.”

After taking a moment to steady your breathing you mutter under your breath “Doesn't matter. You will not remember anyway.”

“What did you say?” he asks almost before the words have left your mouth. Did it sound like you were making some kind of veiled threat? It might have, it was probably a mistake saying that out loud. 

“It’s- there is something wrong with me.” you stammer, “Every night, people forget I exist. It’s some sort of-”

“-a curse?” recognition and dread in his voice.

You nod. He releases your shoulder, and his expression becomes much softer. Sad, too. 

“Not you too��” he says with a weary sigh. “I felt that chill when I ran into you on the street, I thought you might have some connection to it. Sorry to see I was right.”

“You were cursed too...?” That would explain why you didn’t recognize him, despite how much like a Ranger he looks and sounds. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the realization that another of your kin has fallen into this fate. Had he gone to Mordor with you? Or was he cursed when you foolishly brought the relic back to the city? Either way this is probably your fault. You feel sick. 

He nods solemnly. “Then I am doubly sorry for frightening you. I imagine this has been a trying few weeks for you already.” you nod again, though seems like a bit of an understatement. “Although, that still does not explain why you ran from me. I know I can be rather intimidating at times, but surely it was not just that.”

You take a deep breath. You have a lot of explaining to do, and you’re not sure how he’s going to react 

“I guess there’s no sense in hiding it from you. I stole a relic from the houses of lore earlier today, and I thought you had somehow found out and were after me for that reason.”

Corunir just looks at you for a moment, searching your expression in the hopes that what you said was merely a poor jest. To his dismay, he finds you are being dead-serious "Please tell me you're not talking about the relic I think you're talking about... The one I retrieved from Mordor."

"No, I'm talking about the one I retrieved from Mordor."

The two of you make eye contact for an uncomfortably long moment.

"...The one we retrieved from Mordor."

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration "I sincerely hope you had a good reason for taking it. How many more people might be exposed to it-"

"What about the scholars? Were they not at risk too?” you quickly point out “That is the reason I took it, so I could hide it someplace safer."

He shakes his head with an exasperated sigh “It was safer in the Houses. No one was allowed near it, it was only myself, Ethedis, and presumably you who were ever let in there. No one else-”

“-No one that we know of.” you snap a look at him, sharp enough to cut stone. “If any of the other scholars, or anyone else on the Sage’s Tier had been cursed, would we have any way of knowing?”

"No, I suppose we..." he trails off, then a look of horror slowly creeps onto his face “I… I fear you may be onto something. How did I not realize before… I remember bringing the relic to the Houses for safekeeping, but I cannot remember who specifically I handed it off to when I arrived. How could I have been so foolish…” Now that he mentions it, you realize you share the same gap in your memory. At least one other person besides the two of you has been cursed then.

“Perhaps the curse itself is what prevented you from seeing it?” you offer “It seems quite good at concealing memories, after all.”

He looks away and mutters something under his breath “Yeah. It was probably the curse.” His voice is flat, he doesn't sound like he really believes that. 

But in all fairness, you think it is perfectly likely that the curse may be covering its tracks, clouding his judgment to prevent him from putting the pieces together or something like that. Of course you cannot provide any proof to that theory besides ‘it just kinda makes sense’, but he strikes you as an intelligent man, and you have a hard time believing he wouldn’t have figured this out sooner unless something was actively hindering him. If he and Ethedis had been spending more time around the relic than you, it makes a lot of sense. 

Wait, Ethedis?

“Hold on, did you say Ethedis had been near it?”

“You know her?”

“Of course I do! She’s my best friend- well, was, at least. Don’t tell me you actually let her near that thing…”

“Only twice, and only because she insisted. I had hoped that between the two of us we could break the enchantment quickly, and I would not need to risk her being around it for long. But this has proved far more complicated…” and now you’ve gone and complicated things further.

“I guess I’m in no position to judge you for that then, considering my own reckless actions…”

“Well, do you have it with you?”

“Alright I’m not that reckless, give me a little credit at least. It’s hidden away in the cisterns. They were the only place I could think of to put it. Few venture down there and sections of it extend deep into the mountains. I thought there at least it might be far enough away from anyone else.”

“I see why you did it, but that’s going to be a big problem for us… I would likely need the relic on hand if I am to have any hope of breaking the curse, and if I will not remember having this conversation, then I will likely never find it again. Please tell me you had some sort of plan.”

“I… hadn’t thought that far ahead. I’m no loremaster, I know nothing about curses, my only concern had been trying to hide it away-”

“Then there is no time to lose.” he stands, offering you a hand to help you to your feet “Take me to where you’ve hidden the relic, I will simply have to find a way to break the curse before tonight.” 

“That hardly seems a ‘simple’ task…” you test your leg a bit as he helps you stand. It still aches a little bit, but not badly. You should be able to walk this off. “Did you have some new breakthrough?”

“Not exactly. But there was one thing I had not attempted yet, perhaps for good reason. I was reluctant to try before, as I feared it might pose a risk to the nearby scholars if my theory was correct… but seeing as the relic is isolated in the cisterns, I will not need to worry about that.” 

“Oh good, Something dangerous then!” you smile grimly “what is it you plan on doing?”

“I will explain on the way, we should be going now.”

Reasonably, you might want to learn what this man you only think you know is planning before venturing down into the cisterns with him, but since when were you ever considered reasonable?

So nevertheless, you start leading him to the nearest entrance to the cisterns. You notice some strange looks from a few people on the street who witnessed your chase earlier, but neither of you pay them much heed. You’ve gotten out of the habit of caring about your reputation, subconsciously assuming nothing will be remembered.

The two of you properly introduce yourselves as you walk. You learn that his name is Corunir, and he was once a part of Golodir’s Company. Apparently he was the one who first called for aid from the south, and helped you and Ethedis discover the secrets of the stone hearts of the Watchers. You thought it had been one of the Trév Gállorg you first spoke to in Aughaire, but you don’t actually remember who it was now that you think about it. That at least adds up with his story then.

“You know of the stone hearts?” he asks, almost surprised.

“Yes, I was there with Ethedis when we first discovered their secrets and crossed the Rammas.”

“Hm. it is as I thought, then. The three of us must have fought together in the War, as I remember the same thing only without you.”

“That’s what I thought too. But what do the Watching Stones have to do with any of this?”

“I’ll admit it’s a stretch, but I’ve suspected that the relic might actually be of a similar nature to the stone hearts. Not the same thing of course, or I would have recognized it immediately, but an item designed to hold a different kind of fell spirit perhaps.”

You do agree it’s a stretch. The relic seemed nothing like a stone heart. For one thing, it’s not even a stone. It is a small, seemingly empty, iron box you couldn’t open. An air of fell magic surrounded it, but it did not have the same sort of… feeling. It wasn’t the same as the stone hearts. The heart made you feel sick when you touched it, a nauseous dread in the pit of your stomach that threatened to rile up into blind panic. The box from Mordor though, was just cold. Not a natural kind of cold, but that’s still all it was. Deceptively harmless.

But, Corunir seems to know more about this sort of thing than you do, perhaps he could pick up on something you could not.

“So, if you’re right about this, I might actually be able to fistfight the source of the curse? Finally, something suited to my skill set!”

He laughs grimly “Perhaps, but we should still be cautious. I have never heard of a spirit with powers such as these, if we must do battle with it we should be prepared for anything. There’s no telling how powerful it truly is, if it is indeed a spirit we’re dealing with.”

“You don’t need to kill my confidence like that.”

“Overconfidence is far more likely to kill you.” he observes plainly

You almost scoff, not quite though “You sound like my brother.”

He raises an eyebrow “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

You shrug “it’s both, I think.” 

You come to the door leading down to the cisterns and open it. Home sweet home, or at least it has been for the last few weeks.

“Aren’t these usually locked?” Corunir asks, following close behind you.

You glance back at him “They are, but I broke the lock and no one ever fixed it.”

His brow furrows, and you’re not sure why he seems so concerned “So they even forget about the things we touch now…?” he mutters, seemingly not directed at you.

“It’s probably not that.” you rush to assure, though he might be onto something “with everything else down here that was damaged in the siege, I’m sure something small like this was just very low on the list of priorities.” you shake your head as you continue down the dark, damp steps. You know the way down well enough that you do not bother waiting for your eyes to adjust to the dark before venturing deeper in. “At any rate, even if it is the curse’s doing, we will not give it the chance to progress any further.” you sound as confident as ever, but it does not seem to be rubbing off on your ‘new’ friend. He says nothing.

He remains mostly silent as you make your way further beneath the city. Going down here from the bustling streets of the city is always a jarring change, the stone suffocates any sound from up top, and all at once you are accompanied only by the echoing of your footsteps, the occasional drip of cold water, and stale musty air.

“Do you have a weapon?" he eventually asks, only just now seeming to notice that you're unarmed "We’re expecting a fight after all, I should hope you have some means to defend yourself.”

“I will not need anything besides my arms. I’m a brawler, far more comfortable with hand-to-hand fighting.” Well, that might have been true a few months ago, but at Bregadir's urging after Tur-Morva you have preferred to use your sword more frequently, especially when you face foes of an inhuman variety. But you do not have that option now. You notice Corunir giving you a doubtful look in the halflight.

“...what? You doubt that I can banish a spirit by hitting it really hard?” you realize how ridiculous your plan sounds when said aloud, but you choose to ignore it. And besides, in your defense, you have punched spirits before. Fists are far more effective in situations like this than many would initially believe.

“Do you at least own a sword?" His voice is clearly filled with worry, and you're not sure whether you should feel insulted or comforted by it. "I think I would feel better if you had the option of wielding one should the need arise.”

“I do but…” You try to hide the pained expression that crosses your face at the mention of it, but fail. “I… do not have it at the moment.” you reluctantly admit “Earlier I tried to go to Mithrendan for help, but I did a poor job of explaining myself. He recognized my sword as once belonging to my mother, but as he had no memory of me it seemed to him that I must have stolen it or worse… he actually got me arrested for it, and I imagine my sword is still in his possession, though he now has no memory of how it came to be there.” You make a short humorless laugh, as you fear you may cry if you do not express some other emotion “for some reason I thought yelling at him might break through whatever fog concealed his memory, but all I succeeded in doing was causing quite the scene while I was being dragged away. I guess I’m almost lucky no one remembers that…”

He gives you a sad, sympathetic look, "I'm sorry to hear that. I've had similar incidents occur, but I have been fortunate enough to keep all my belongings..."

You shrug nonchalantly “Well, at least I know it’s being kept somewhere safe!” you want to change the subject quickly, you don’t want his pity right now. "Anyway, there was something else I was meaning to ask you," you move on abruptly "If we're right in assuming we both journeyed to Mordor together, why did you choose to join the Conquest?"

"It's strange, I actually cannot remember the reason I went to Mordor, only that it seemed important at the time. Do you remember why you went though?" your heart sinks, you know why he has forgotten.

"I do. it was ill-thought and reckless, but I at least remember making that decision... if you do not, then..." you suddenly find yourself unable to look Corunir in the eyes "then I must have been the reason you went. So I got you into this mess. I'm so sorry- this was all my fault-"

"No, it was not." he assures, voice stern but gentle "If I followed you to Mordor, I did so of my own volition. And I doubt it was by your decision alone that we brought the relic back to the city. Do not assign so much blame to yourself, especially as neither of us remember the full story of how we got here."

"Right... you're probably right." Faeron was right too, sometimes you really do sound too much like Meneldir. That does little to ease the shame you feel, but at least Corunir doesn't blame you as he probably should be.

"More than anything, I'm just glad to know you remember your reasons for making the journey," Corunir continues "I was beginning to worry there may have been more like us."

"I suppose that counts as a silver lining..." you mumble. You recognize this turn up ahead "Ah, it looks like we're nearly to my camp, the relic is hidden there."

“Your camp...?” he looks confused “You've been sleeping down here?”

“Well, obviously, it’s not like I could rent a room at a tavern, I would be forgotten by morning. Where on earth have you been sleeping?”

He pauses for a moment “I… have been waiting until after the curse takes effect to rent a room.” ah, a much more obvious solution that never crossed your mind. He spoke gently, trying not to make you seem like a fool, yet you feel a fool all the same.

“...oh. That’s a good idea, I should have thought of that. A shame I’m not going to remember it.” you sigh “I wonder if we have had this conversation before…” knowing you? Probably.

“You will not have to remember. After we fix this mess, things can finally go back to normal.” he sounds less sure of himself than you would like, but it’s the thought that counts.

Not too long after, you arrive at the place that could only charitably be called a 'camp'. It's in one of the large chambers, positioned on a wide walkway near a reservoir. Just your bedroll, a small amount of scattered provisions, and a spot you had attempted to make a campfire to keep warm. You've since given up on maintaining that, though. It was far too much of a hassle to find and transport fuel down here, and fire does little, if anything at all, to stave off the curse's chill.

"You will have to excuse the mess, I was not expecting visitors." you say dryly, taking out the small bundle of rags you had the relic hidden in and unwrapping it. Intricate carvings adorn the surface of the small box, expertly crafted but of vile subject, they depict scenes of violent deaths and creatures you would rather not describe, runes you only half understand but wish you didn’t understand at all.

You hand it to Corunir, almost glad to have it off your hands despite how long you had spent trying to get it in the first place. A look of discomfort flashes on his face as he touches it, and he takes a sharp breath to steady his nerves.

"Alright, I suppose there's only one way to test my theory then. Are you ready?" you nod, you're ready as you're ever going to be, which isn't really saying much if you're being honest, but what else are you going to do?

Corunir sets the box down in an empty part of the floor and kneels in front of it, sword held at the ready with one arm and shield on the other. He closes his eyes and mutters some words in an old elvish dialect, the meaning of them you know not, but you have heard them before. They are the same words of power that were spoken by Ethedis all those months ago in Angmar, to draw fourth the spirit of a Watching Stone for you to challenge.

For a moment there is nothing. No sound or movement or any other sign of change. You begin to worry that it isn't-

Suddenly all warmth leaves the chamber. An icy blue light fills the area from an unknown source, illuminating the box with a ghostly glow. It feels as if the very air has frozen around you and you cannot remember the sensation of heat. Corunir shoots to his feet, holding out his shield in front of him. "That was it! Prepare yourself!" he shouts.

You assume your fighting stance just as the lid of the box flies open, a spectral figure bursting forth with an animalistic fury in its bright eyes. It is not dissimilar from other ghosts or spirits you have encountered, although it stands (floats?) a whole head and shoulders taller than most. It says nothing, but a feeling of unmistakable hatred emanates from it. You feel that it goes beyond the general spite for the living most spirits possess, it is clearly also angry that someone removed it from the populace areas of the city, surely foiling whatever plans it had for the unsuspecting people. 

It outstretches its hand, drawing the dampness in the surrounding air to its fingertips and freezing it into a jagged blade of ice, and then it turns its hateful eyes to you. It knows you trapped it down here, and you know it has every intention of delivering you to a cruel death.

No going back, it has been unleashed and you must end it here and now. You don't really know if banishing the spirit will break the curse, and you know know if the breaking of the curse will necessarily restore everyone's memories. Maybe you will remain forgotten, maybe you will die down here, but if you can at least ensure that no one else falls prey to this thing, it will all be worth it.

You will not wait for it to make the first move. You lunge at it with all the speed you can muster and connect your fist with its chest. As you make contact with it you feel as if you have plunged your hand into icy water, a sharp jolt of pain and then numbness running through your arm. But, remarkably, you still did some damage to it. As the spirit reels back from the impact you feel heartened, now seeing that it is corporeal enough for you to harm. It’s short lived however as the spirit looks back at you with fell sorcery in its gaze. You find yourself unable to move, your feet frozen to the ground and panic settling in your heart. It could not have lasted for more than a fraction of a second, but that was enough to lower your defenses. In a flash it swings its frozen blade at your throat, and you have no time to react. Your eyes instinctively squeeze shut bracing for impact.

You then hear a metallic clang and the sound of shattering ice. You open an eye and see Corunir’s shield-arm outstretched in front of you, turning what would surely have been a fatal blow. Glimmering shards of ice from the shattered blade scatter harmlessly through the air around you. He steps in front of you and bellows a challenge to it, finally drawing its ire away from you. 

You quickly shake your arm trying to return feeling to your frozen hand as you watch the spirit form another blade from the air. It’s hard to describe how grateful you feel to have Corunir and his shield standing between you and it. It has been a long time since you have had to make such a desperate fight with only your hands to defend yourself, you feared your skills were getting rusty.

It is no small feat for Corunir to keep its attention focused on him, considering how enraged it is as you specifically. You heard him say something in elvish, you could not make out exactly what he said, and his axe flashed with heat, now seeming to be wreathed in embers. As he continues to harry it with strikes from behind his shield, the fell spirit has no choice but to face him rather than you. It leaves itself open for you to attack, once, twice, and a third time. Your first blow found its mark flawlessly, the second seemed to as well. The third, well, you think it did, but you can't really feel your hands anymore. Despite the numbness you press on with your attacks.

As it trades blows with the two of you, you start to see its form flicker and fade in some places, as if it is struggling to hold itself together. In a last desperate strike you bring down both of your fists on its head, its hateful screeching abruptly fading to nothingness as its form dissipates into a fine translucent dust.

Then, all at once, a dam in your mind breaks. Nearly a year's worth of memories, memories of Corunir and your harrowing adventures together, all flooding back to you in a torrent of joy and fear and grief and hope. The shock overwhelms you completely and you collapse on the cold stone.

[winterstellars]

want to do one of those fic asks things but unfortunately i have only ever written one fic and every time someone asks me a question about it i have to go outside and howl like a werewolf to express my joy

[constantvariations]

Jaune is the Sakura Haruno of RWBY send tweet

[i90o3]

haii ><,, i read your pampering fic w mr crawling and i js. UGH. IM SO IN LOVEEEE 😭😭 do u do nsfw drabbles/fics 🤔 i read in ur rules you DO allow nsfw so,, could i request something nsfw abt a first time with him ><??

First Time.

context: First time with your pookie wookie bookie puppy bear.

Homicipher. mr crawling x reader. | Anypov…(?). NSFW | tw: ectoplasm c*m

Nsfw isn’t my strong suit but I have fun challenging myself, I do hope you enjoy this!

first time? ..confusing. And complicated. And clumsy. But oh.. does it feel so good.

It’s definitely a lot of build up over a couple months, like first soft pecks, then making out, slow and clumsy touches.

You have to guide his hands yourself until he gets the hang of it, but I think he’s a pretty quick learner. He’s def good with his hands (I actually think he says that in the game at some point) and his tongue.. (😜)

I’d say your on your bed making out, straddling his lap, your tongues in a heated battle with each other while his hand roams your body and his other hand is gently cupping your face. You’re starting to subtly grind against him, and he makes a chirping noise.

You can feel his erection against your thigh, and when you pull back to look at him, he’s smiling widely at you. He grabs you by the shoulders and switches your positions, pushing you down against the mattress while he hovers over you. He’s whining and chirping, rutting against your leg and wrapping his big arms around you, burying his face in to your chest. He’s so whiny and desperate for you, clawing at your clothes to try and get them off.

I saw someone say he’d be on the smaller side, but yall see how fucking tall that man is?? I def think he’s atleast 6 or 7 inches ..skinny, veiny, with a slight curve.

He’s chirping and making all sorts of noises when he finally sinks in to your wet heat, rutting so sloppily and clumsily. You jolt from how cold it is compared to your hot gummy walls, making you shiver. He has no idea really what he’s doing, but it just feels so good he can’t stop, can’t help himself. How you clench around him, how good it feels, its driving him insane. Burying his face in to your neck and wrapping his arms around you so tightly.

You can tell he’s getting close because he’s getting more vocal and his thrusts are getting even more sloppier (somehow), and you’re clawing at his back, whimpering and mewling. Your walls clench around him, milking his purple-tipped cock, cumming with a sharp cry. His hips stutter as you ride out your high, and he slips out of you, shooting his load on your tummy, rubbing his grey ectoplasm cum all over your soft skin, giggling maniacally.

After you clean yourselves up, you snuggle up to him, pulling the covers up around you both as he pats your head and you drift off to sleep on his arms.

11/11/2024. 9:38 am. @i90o3

[taexoxosgf]

LEE JENO FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst

everyone in heat after tds3. everyone is me. > lots are from my old recs so it’s extra long!

recommendation masterlist

rich purity [ virgin!jeno x fem!reader ] [ fwb, university au ] s,f,a

fight club [ fighter!jeno x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s,f

in your eyes, part two [ player!jeno x fem!reader, college au ] s,f,a

summer love [ brothers bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] [ 90's summer au ] f

the antics [ model!jeno x fem!reader ] s,f,a

pride & prejudice. [ pride and prejudice!jeno x afab!reader ] s,f,a

netflix and chill [ jeno x fem!reader ] [ college au, strangers to lovers ] s,f

two photos, two kisses [ one night stand to lovers au ] s,f,a

impaled [ boyfriend!jeno x fem!reader x roommate!haechan ] [frat/soccer au] s

reel [ friend group camping trip au ] s,f

i suddenly realize my archnemisis is hot (during a battle to the death). [ son of ares!jeno x daughter of nike!reader ] f,a

summer hair = forever young [ strangers to lovers, summer fling au ] s,f,a

my first and last [ campus heartbreaker!jeno x fem!reader, friends to lovers au ] s,f,a

premium boy-toy [ stripper!jeno x fem!reader ] s

the walls are thin [ roommate!jeno x fem!reader x roommate!jaemin } s

promiscuous [ established relationship, jeno x ex-stripper!reader ] s

hush, hush. [ jeno, haechaen, jaemin x fem!reader ] s

wicked games [ enemies to lovers au ] s,f,a

sugar daddy galore! [ sugardaddy jeno & jaemin x fem!reader ] s

wanna know what it's like [ alt!jeno x fem!reader ] [ fwb au ] s,f

someone with secrets [ jeno x fem!reader ] [ classroom au ] s

open the gates, let me in [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] ft. haechan and jaemin f

shameless [ step-son x step-mom reader ] s

step on a crack, dr. lee’s gonna break your back! [ chiropractor!jeno x fem!reader ] s

the perks of having a hot best friend [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] f,a

only for me [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s,f,a

scream [ halloween party au, frat party au ] s

fuck around and find out [ bestfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s

bet! [ bestfriends to lovers au, college au ] f,a

sizing it up [ boyfriend jeno x reader ] s

summer heat and summer swim [ established relationship, pool day au ] s,f

brother's bestfriend!lee jeno x reader [ brother's best friend!jeno ] s

the boy next door [ neighbor!jeno x fem!reader ] s,f,a

be careful what you wish for [ boyfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s

get smart [ boyfriend!jeno x fem!reader ] s

take my breath [ alpha!jeno x fem omega!reader ] s

[imaginedisish]

All I Need (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: AHH! This took so, so long. Anyway, here is the period-comfort fic! Needed this. Loosely inspired by "All I Need" By Radiohead and "Let the Light In" by Lana and Father John Misty. Hope you guys enjoy! P.S. I'm so sorry if I forgot to tag you, or if the tags don't work.

Summary: Your period is awful this month, but Logan is there to take care of you...in more ways than one...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!! SMUT!!! Fingering, PIV, period sex, soft!Logan, praise kink (if you squint), friends to lovers, softdom!Logan (if you squint again), mentions of blood (bc period), so much fluff, feelings, cursing, afab!reader/fem!reader, definitely some grammatical errors bc I struggled through proofreading...and I think that's it!

Word Count: 4,474 it was supposed to be short

You’re no stranger to pain. You’ve been in countless battles and fought more fights than you can remember. And yet, nothing makes you feel as obliterated as your period does. 

Your cramps have always been terrible, but this time they were particularly bad. You sit in your bed, on a Saturday night, alone, struggling. You couldn’t find the heating pad. You couldn’t find the ice cream you wanted. You couldn’t find anything to watch. And, of course, everything hurts—your breasts are beyond sore, and your head is aching. You look up at the ceiling, wanting nothing more than for your period to be over. 

Your lower abdomen pulses with pain and you groan audibly, not caring how loud you are as you turn over onto your stomach in frustration. 

But then there’s a knock at your door.  

“Hey, everything okay in there?” It’s Logan—of course it’s him. “Didn’t mean to be nosy. Just happened to hear you.”

“I’m okay!” You call out, rolling back onto your side to face the door. 

“Are you sure?” Logan asks. You can hear his hand on the knob. “Can I come in?”

Heat suddenly rises to your chest. Logan? Coming in here? Now? In reality, this shouldn’t be a big deal. Logan has been in your room before—albeit very briefly and in passing—but you can’t help but feel nervous. You’re always nervous around him. You’ve been harboring a crush on him for months now, and it’s brutal. You’ve grown closer, but not quite close enough. At least not in the way you want.

You swallow nervously. “Y-yeah,” you stammer, your voice almost cracking. “You can come in.” 

Logan immediately twists the knob and pushes the door open, stepping inside your room. You can’t help but smile at the sight of his familiar beater and blue jeans. He takes another step and closes the door behind him—he’s just a few feet away from you, his arms crossed over his chest.

He smirks, tilting his head down. “It’s Saturday night, and this is what you’re doing?” He steps towards you, approaching the bed and sitting down. 

“Not feeling great,” you admit, wincing as you sit up in bed. 

Logan’s brows immediately furrow with concern. His hand comes up to rest on your knee, and you have to stop yourself from shuddering under his touch. “Are you okay?” He asks, his thumb drawing gentle circles into your skin. He sniffs once, and you know he can smell the blood between your thighs. “Do you need anything?” 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” you say, trying to politely brush off his concern. You don’t want to trouble him, don’t want to hold him back from his Saturday night plans. But Logan’s brows are still furrowed, concern painted clearly across his face. “Really, I’m okay,” you reassure, but he doesn’t budge. 

“I know you’re not okay,” he says, his eyes looking deeply into yours. “Let me help you, yeah?”

“I’d feel bad. I’d be holding you back from whatever plans you—”

“No plans, princess,” Logan says, cutting you off. You try to hide the way your breath hitches in your throat at the familiar nickname. “Just you. Whatever you need.” He smiles widely, his thumb still drawing circles into your knee. 

It’s so soft, so delicate, so unlike the way Logan is with others. There’s something domestic about this, something especially comforting and gentle. He’s sacrificing his Saturday night for you—to make sure you’re okay. Your heart squeezes in your chest at the thought. 

“Is it bad?” He asks, his voice low and calm. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you almost don’t notice the way Logan inches closer; don’t notice the way his hand slides down to your lower stomach. The warmth of his hand feels so good that you have to stifle a moan at the sudden contact.  

“Y-yeah,” you stammer, leaning into his touch. His hand presses firmly into your stomach, rubbing gently. “But your hand feels nice,” you admit, your voice a bit shaky as the words fall from your lips. 

He’s next to you now, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hips in line with yours. His touch, his presence—it’s all simultaneously relaxing and exhilarating. You’ve never had him this close, never felt him touch you like this. Your heart beats out of your chest as his palm pushes against your aching lower abdomen. He’s in tune with you, registering every movement you make, every half-moan you can’t seem to suppress as his hand soothingly rubs your stomach. 

You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Do you want me to get you anything?” He asks, smiling widely. Your mind immediately goes to the lack of ice cream in the freezer, but you’re hesitant to ask. Getting you something would entail leaving. And the last thing you want is for Logan to leave. 

“I’m okay,” you answer, but you know your voice comes out as unsure. 

He arches a brow, his caring smile turning into a knowing smirk. “You sure about that, princess?” He nods his head towards the door. “I saw you all disappointed after lookin’ in the freezer, earlier.”

You can’t help the grin that forms on your face at Logan’s words. He noticed you. “There wasn’t any ice cream left,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. 

Logan chuckles and stands up, his palm slipping away from your stomach. You want to reach out, to yank him down and force his hand back where it was. “I’ll be right back,” he says, walking towards the door. “Don’t move an inch. I mean it!” He keeps his eyes on you as he backs out of the room, opening the door and closing it carefully behind him. 

Not even a minute later, Logan comes back with a silver spoon and a pint of your favorite ice cream. “No way,” you mutter, shaking your head, your smile spreading across your face. “How did you know?”

Logan smirks. “I just do,” he answers, sitting back in his place next to you on the edge of the bed. He passes you the silver spoon and the pint. “Knew that’s what you were looking for. Went out to the store to grab it the second you walked out of the kitchen empty-handed.”

“You’re amazing,” you whisper, still in awe of how he got you the ice cream without asking. He simply noticed. He remembered your favorite flavor—you never had to tell him a thing. He just knew. 

You open the packaging and dig into the ice cream, wrapping your lips around the spoon. “Oh sorry,” you mumble, your mouth full of ice cream as you pull the spoon from your lips. “Do you want some?”

You dig the spoon back into the ice cream and scoop out a big serving, pointing the spoon in Logan’s direction. He smirks before opening his mouth, waiting for you to feed him. Your breath catches in your throat as you hold the spoon up to him. His lips wrap around the ice cream, and he takes the spoon from your hand, his fingertips brushing against yours. 

He sucks and pulls the spoon from his mouth. You swallow harshly at the sight, watching as he digs into the pint and takes another scoop of ice cream, this time bringing the spoon to your lips. You open your mouth, inviting him inside, closing it around the cold ice cream. You silently wish you could taste him on the spoon. 

You grab the spoon from his hands, his fingers lingering before pulling away—like he’d do anything to touch you again, to savor the feeling of your skin against his. 

“Thank you, Logan,” you say, taking another scoop of ice cream and shoving the spoon past your lips. “Really, it means a lot.”

Logan shakes his head, his hand finding that spot on your stomach again. “It was nothing,” he mutters. “I’d do anything for you.” He soothingly rubs side to side, the warmth of his palm enveloping your lower abdomen. “Is there anything else you wanted?” He asks, nodding his head towards the T.V. on the other side of your room. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Sure,” you say back, reaching for the remote on your nightstand. You flick the T.V. on and look over at Logan. “W-would you wanna stay?” You ask, nodding your head to the other side of the bed. 

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere, princess,” he husks, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed. He settles in next to you, lying down on the mattress. You’re shoulder to shoulder, and his hand quickly finds your lower abdomen again. 

You scroll through the movies on various streaming services, and nothing seems to click until you find an old, campy B-movie from the 80s. You turn to face Logan, grinning widely, pointing the remote to the television. He rolls his eyes playfully as he reads the description. “Whatever you want, pretty girl.”

Your heart stops at the epithet. Pretty girl? Princess, sure—you’re familiar with Logan’s classic princess nickname. But pretty girl was entirely new. Different. Certainly not friendly. Princess was teasing, tongue and cheek—a way to mess with you, to slip under your skin and rile you up. Flirty? Perhaps. But not inherently romantic. Pretty girl? 

Pretty girl seems like…more. 

You decide to take a chance, letting your head rest on Logan’s shoulder as you press play on the movie. You spoon ice cream into your mouth, waiting for Logan’s next move. After a few seconds, he sits up. His shoulder separates from yours, and his arm reaches around your shoulders instead, tugging you into his chest. 

“This okay?” He asks, his lips brushing against the side of your head, pressing what feels like the ghost of a kiss to your temple.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “It’s perfect.” You can hear Logan’s heart beating in his chest. It’s loud and fast. His fingertips draw circles into your shoulder as he pulls you closer. 

The movie starts, but you can’t seem to concentrate. You nervously shovel scoop after scoop of ice cream into your mouth, hoping to take your mind off Logan, but it obviously doesn’t work. Not with the way his arms are wrapped around you—one draped around your shoulder while his other hand is tucked in its place against your lower stomach. 

You somehow finish the entire pint, and Logan notices immediately, taking the container from your hands and placing it on the nightstand next to him. His hand is back, soothingly rubbing your abdomen, within the blink of an eye. He’s endlessly attentive, listening carefully to every breath you take, watching every wrinkle in your forehead crease and every wince you make when a bad cramp comes on. 

A sudden, sharp pain builds in your abdomen, and you squeeze your eyes shut, grinding your teeth as the pain worsens. You take a deep breath through your nose and out your mouth.

“Hey,” Logan coos, pressing his hand a bit harder into your belly. “Is it getting bad?” He asks softly, holding you tighter. 

You swallow harshly, taking another deep breath. “Yeah, it hurts right now,” you choke, wincing as you let yourself lean completely into him. 

Logan pulls you into his lap, one arm draping across the front of your chest while his hand slips underneath the waistband of your athletic shorts. He stops just above your panties. “Is this okay?” He asks, his warm palm messaging your stomach. 

The pressure is so nice, and the heat from his palm is delicious. “Yes,” you groan, your legs intertwining with his. You squirm a bit in his lap, trying to get comfortable. “You’re so warm,” you whisper, turning on your side, still situated between his legs, your head on his chest. “F-feels good.”

Logan presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Are you sure you’re okay?” His arm slides up and down your body before settling on your waist. “You sure you don’t need anything?”

“I-I don’t know,” you admit, pressing your face into the center of his chest. All you can smell is him—pine and musk and denim and leather. It’s perfect, dizzying, distracting. Just need you, you think to yourself. 

“Need me, pretty girl?” Logan asks. You lift your head up, furrowing your brows as you realize you let that thought find its way to your lips and out of your mouth. “I’m right here.” 

His face is just inches away from yours. His breath fans across your nose, your cheeks. His lips are close, too—just a bit closer and you’d be kissing. “L-Lo,” you stutter. “I…” You trail off, unable to form a coherent thought. You can feel the tension in the air, feel the heat building between your thighs. Fuck, you want him. Need him. 

His throat bobs as he swallows. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?” Logan murmurs, his forehead pressing to yours. 

“W-want you,” you admit, your voice shaky. 

“Want you too, darlin’,” he says, his fingertips playing with the waistband of your panties. “Let me take care of you,” he husks. “Let me take the pain away.” And you want him too—more than anything. 

“Please,” you beg as his hand slips under the hem of your panties. You flip the T.V. off and throw the remote to the floor.

His lips finally press against yours, slow and languid. His fingertips find your clit, drawing tight, quick circles around the bud. “I’ll tease you next time, pretty girl,” Logan whispers at the shell of your ear. But all you register is next time. There’s going to be a next time. “Just wanna make you feel good right now.”

“F-fuck,” you moan, your hips rocking against his hand. He swirls around your clit, pinching gently between his strokes. 

Logan’s free hand comes down to your thighs, gripping your flesh tightly and spreading your legs wider. “That feel good, princess?” He rasps, stroking faster. 

Your head falls back to his shoulder. “Yes, so good,” you whimper. His lips find your neck, kissing your pulse point and sucking softly. His hand slides back up your body, slipping underneath your shirt, trailing over your stomach. 

His fingertips climb tentatively towards your chest. You remember you aren’t wearing a bra as Logan’s fingers brush against the underside of your breasts. “Please,” you beg, arching your back into his touch.

Logan presses another kiss to your neck as his hand palms your breasts, massaging gently, alternating between one side and the other. He hikes up your tank top, giving himself better access to all of you. His fingers continue their tight circles on your clit, swirling around, releasing that pressure at the bottom of your stomach. Your walls clench down around nothing as he presses harder into your core. 

“Thought about this for so long,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. “Thought about touching you, fucking you. Wanted you this whole time, sweetheart.”

“Logan,” you moan, bringing your lips to his. “I wanted you too,” you confess. You can feel yourself hitting your peak, ready to fall apart. “I’m c-close.”

“I know, darlin’,” Logan soothes, his fingers quickening. “I’ve got you.” His lips melt against yours, fitting together like magnets, like you were always meant to find each other. “So beautiful,” he murmurs, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip. “Wanna make you come, wanna watch you let go.” 

It all happens so fast—your orgasm crashes into you, and Logan swallows your moans with another kiss. “That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coos, still stroking your clit. Your walls flutter as pleasure courses through your every nerve ending. His strokes slow down until his fingers rest, unmoving, on your clit. Logan’s hands still palm your breasts, messaging the tender flesh gently. “You okay?” He asks softly. 

“Yeah, p-perfect,” you stutter, curling into his chest. “Felt so good.” 

Logan presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Relax darlin’,” he husks, taking a deep breath. 

“Lo?” You whisper, looking up at him, his eyes immediately finding yours. “Do you really want me?” You ask, suddenly embarrassed to be saying anything at all, and yet you find yourself rambling. “When you were saying all that when we were—” 

But his lips are on yours again, hungry and desperate. He pulls away like he doesn’t want to—like it hurts to be away from you for even the briefest second. “I want you, pretty girl,” he says, pulling you back into his chest. “You’re all I think about…” He trails off, his voice less stable than it was just seconds ago. “You’re all I need.” 

“Logan,” you say, smiling widely. “I’ve wanted you for months. I didn’t know you felt the same way.” 

You can feel his chuckle reverberate through his chest. “How could I ever want someone else?” He asks. There’s levity in his voice, but you know he’s being serious. “You’re it. You make me think that…” he pauses, and you look up from his chest. “You make me think that there’s some purpose to all this.” He meets your gaze, and you can see the sudden shift in his expression. His eyes are glossed over. He works his jaw. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. For love. For you.” 

You know that Logan has had everything taken from him, time and time again. He’s an undeniably selfless person, the type of person who would let the world destroy him to protect those he loves—and he has—it’s happened. But he’s still here, and now he’s here with you. He deserves happiness. He deserves love. And the thought that he finally feels those things with you is too much to bear. You try to smile, but you can’t help the tears brimming in your eyes. “I love you,” you whisper. “So much.” 

“I love you too, beautiful.” 

His lips are on yours again, melding, coming together, building something unbreakable. You straddle him, his hands finding your hips. He squeezes firmly, keeping you in place on top of him. His tongue swipes your lower lip, asking permission to slip inside, and you happily oblige. You want Logan, all of him, now. Forever. 

“Always gonna want you, just you,” he mumbles against your lips. “So fucking beautiful. Never wanted anyone like this.” His hands guide your hips to roll over his. Your core drags along his erection—large and straining against his jeans. 

“Want you so bad,” you whine, grinding down onto him. But then you remember the reason Logan is here in the first place. “B-but I’m on my—”

Logan rocks his hips against yours, ignoring you. “As long as you want this pretty girl, I want this. Don’t care about that.”

Fuck.

You nod, your lips pressing to his. He swallows your whines, his tongue brushing against yours, his teeth grazing your lower lip. His hands slide up and down your back, your tank top still hiked up over your breasts. Logan’s nails trail across your skin, drawing along your curves, taking in every inch of you. 

You bring your hands down his chest, finding the hem of his beater. You tug it up his body, revealing his skin. “You want this off?” He asks, smiling against your lips. You nod, and he breaks contact for just a split second, tugging his shirt up and over his head. 

He’s so beautiful, his abs, the thick, dark hair scrawling across his chest. You bite your lip at the sight. “You’re perfect,” you mutter, letting your hands feel his exposed skin, searching him, growing familiar with his every curve.

He smirks, his hands finding your hips again, squeezing tightly. “That’s all you, princess,” he rasps, shaking his head. “Beautiful girl.” 

You grind your hips against his again, and he presses his forehead to yours. “Need you, Lo.” His arms wrap around your back, pulling you in so that your chest is flush with his. Your fingertips find his belt, fumbling with the buckle until you get it undone, and sliding the leather out of the loops of his jeans. You toss it to the floor and quickly work at his button and zipper. 

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Logan chides, grabbing your wrists with one of his massive hands. “Let’s take it easy, yeah?”

You can’t help but pout. “But I want you so bad,” you whine, grinding down onto him. Logan groans, his hips bucking up into yours. He brings his hands to the hem of his jeans and tugs them down. You take the opportunity to grab a condom from the drawer of the nightstand next to you. 

When you look back, Logan’s erection is free from his jeans. He’s massive, so much bigger than you ever imagined. You swallow harshly, handing him the condom with shaky hands. He smirks, opening the little package and rolling the condom over his cock. “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he husks. “Gonna take it slow, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, and then his hands are on your hips again, flipping you onto your back so that he’s hovering over you. He quickly finds the hem of your shorts, and you lift your hips up a little, helping him tug them, along with your panties, down your legs. He places them at the end of the bed and lowers back down over you. 

He balances on his forearm as his free hand guides his cock to your folds, sliding through you, nudging against your clit. “You have no idea how much I need you,” Logan whispers, his tip teasing your entrance. “No idea how much I love you.” 

He shoves himself deep inside you with one thrust, bottoming out, down to the hilt. “Fuck,” he curses, his cock filling you up, stretching you out, giving you a chance to adjust to the sheer size of him. “You feel so good,” he praises. “Knew you’d feel perfect. Fucking made for me.”

He finally pulls out only to thrust back in, somehow deeper this time. “Logan,” you moan, your nails digging into his muscular back. “S-so big, so good,” you breathe, stumbling over your words. 

“Love it when you say my name, pretty girl,” Logan pants, slipping out and pumping back in, setting a slow, languid pace. His free hand reaches between your bodies, his fingertips finding your clit with ease. He draws those familiar, tight, rapid little circles into your bud. 

You curse under your breath as he splits you open, his pace growing faster every few thrusts or so. He’s holding back, and you can see it in his face—his eyes all dark as he works his jaw, feigning patience. You know he wants more—to take all of you and make you his. 

“Logan, y-you don’t have to…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed as he hits that sweet spot deep inside you. 

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” he says, demand in his voice. Your eyes flutter back open. “What do you need?” He asks, softer now, attentive as ever.  

His fingers swirl against your clit, adding more pressure with every careful stroke, making it near impossible for you to form a coherent thought. “Y-you don’t have to hold back,” you stammer as he sinks into you. “I-I can take it.”

He presses a kiss to your lips as he pumps in and out. “Just wanna take care of you this time, beautiful.” He pinches your clit lightly before stroking again. “Next time I’ll take you how I want.” There it is again. Next time. 

His hips snap against yours, his fingers working dexterously at your clit. It’s all too much, the way he bites your lips, burying his face into the crook of your neck and kissing your pulse point, whispering praises against the shell of your ear. Taking me so well. Doing so good for me, darlin’. So fucking beautiful. Such a good girl. 

His cock drags along your walls, and you clench down around him. He twitches inside you as he buries himself deeper, hitting that sweet spot again and again. “Logan,” you whine, your eyes struggling to stay open. “I’m so close.” Logan’s cock throbs as the words fall from your lips. 

“F-fuck,” he stutters, his composure slipping. “I know, princess. Me too.” His hips rock into yours, his pace growing faster with every hit. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna get there with you.” 

You arch your back, your chest pushing flush against his. “Yes,” you moan as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers firmly circling your clit. It’s too much—you know you’re coming undone, unraveling underneath him. Your walls clench down around him again. 

“That’s it, beautiful,” Logan soothes. “Come with me.”

The tension snaps, splitting in two. It’s uncontrollable, a raging fire, blinding heat. You let go, melting into the mattress, your orgasm wracking through your body. Logan twitches inside you, and you know he’s coming too. You’re trembling underneath him, legs shaking as his thrusts slow down. With one more slow pump, Logan stills inside you. His fingers stroke your clit lightly, working you through your high, bringing you back down to Earth. 

After a few seconds, his fingers slip away, and he pulls out of your cunt. You can’t help but feel empty now that he’s gone, already craving more of him. He sits up on his knees and climbs off the bed, taking the condom from his cock and tossing it into the garbage. He grabs his boxers from off the floor and tugs them on. 

Before you can beg him to come back, he’s crawling onto the bed. He grabs your panties and your shorts, dragging them up your legs, making sure everything is back in its right place. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asks, tugging you into his chest. “You need anything? New pad? Water?”

“I’m okay,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Just need you.”

You can feel him smiling against the crown of your head. “You have me, beautiful.” He whispers. “Always gonna have me.” He tugs the sheets and the comforter over your bodies, the warmth of him and your bed dragging you under the current of sleep. 

You wake up a few hours later. Logan is still there, next to you, his arms holding you tightly to his chest. 

“Lo,” you whisper into the darkness of your room.

“I’m here.” His voice is cloudy, tired, filled with sleep. “Never gonna be anywhere but here.” He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Go back to sleep.”

“I love you,” you say, because you can, because you mean it.

You can hear the sleepy smile in his voice. “I love you too.”

tags: @banlaineslawyer @gothgoblinbabe @alsoprettyinpink @librababe99 @ponygyatt @yoursrosie @itdobe-foggy @gplol @healmydesires @qardasngan @princessterek @alastorssimp @yawnetu @chronicallybubbly @corvid007 @muffin-berry @emmdog2999 @kieekto @creepsbeware @starrdustss @evasmlp @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @ilysmdovie12 @silversprings-mp3 @prettyseaveins @derbygracie @pedrohoe04 @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @movhoney @honeyfwr @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @cosmiccandydreamer

[kamaluhkhan]

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

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

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

word count: 8.5k

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

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

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

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

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

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 

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

“the shitty mattress?”

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

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

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

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

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

“someone stole my candy.”

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

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

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

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

“what? n-no!” 

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

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

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

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

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

it just didn't seem fair. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

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

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

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

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

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

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

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

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

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

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

“yeah. exactly.” 

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

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

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

“she deserved more.” 

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

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

we all do. 

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

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

“slow down, tiger.” 

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

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

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

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

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

luke bristled at your nickname for him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“your nose.”

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

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

“you don’t have to —”

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

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

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

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

he couldn’t argue with that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.” 

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

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

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

“you won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

how many heroes could claim that?

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

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

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

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

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

“i promise.”

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

the nightmares were getting worse. 

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

“luke.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

what a fucking joke.

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

again: a fucking joke.

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

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

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

most of all, you cared about luke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but, at what cost?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what happened?” 

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

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

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

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

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

in fact, luke loved that about you.

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

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

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

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

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

“about percy?” 

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

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

you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 

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

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

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

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

“hey. are we okay?”

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

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

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

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

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

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

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

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

everything was falling into place. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“no. i’m good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

not yet. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated. 

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

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

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

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 

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

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

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

did you know?

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

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

would you hate him, if you knew? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“wait.”

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

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

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

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

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

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

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

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

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

“i don’t have much time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

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

“it’s not delusional—”

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

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

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

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

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

luke just needed to convince you.

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

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

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

“you don’t mean that.”

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

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

a turquoise trident.

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

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

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

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

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

As You Wish

Pairing: Aemond x wife reader

Summary: Aemond's new wife has a moment of reflection wondering if her new husband truly cares for her. Aemond is determined to prove to her that he is utterly devoted to her.

Warnings: smut, some slight angst? maybe idk honestly haha, Aemond loves his wife he just has issues expressing it lol, p in v, oral (f receiving) man is a champ when it comes to that, praise, 18+, vulgar language lol, slight breeding kink

AN: hey y'all! long time no see haha, I finally watched the season 2 hotd premiere last night and had to finally write something! this is my first go at a legit fic and not just headcanons so don't be too judgy haha. but I hope y'all enjoy it! :)

PS: it is unedited rn, but I was just too excited to post it, so I'll edit it later!

The rose-scented bubbles of the bath water lapped soothingly against your flesh. This had become your routine, after the evening's supper or feast you would call to your handmaid to draw a bath. Scalding hot water, warm enough to turn your skin pink upon contact. The boiling water and the familiar scent of the roses were one of the few things that brought you comfort after your marriage to Prince Aemond. Your family had come seasonally to court for many moons now, your mother being a friend of Queen Alicent. As your brothers sparred with the young princes in the training grounds, you took more kindly towards the gardens. Wandering around the maze of flowers and bushes searching for faeries and nymphs. Of course, you had been only a child then and had not yet known that such silly things don’t exist. 

It had been the Prince himself that informed you of such. You had been crouched on your knees before a bed of yellow roses, looking between the stems and leaves for the little creatures. The skirts of your dress soiled and stained brown from the earth beneath you. You had been so preoccupied with searching for them, that you hadn’t heard the crunching of grass and footsteps behind you.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?” Aemond had asked you, voice bitter but curious. You stood up hastily, nearly tripping on your own two feet as you spun around and curtsied clumsily. 

“I am searching for faeries my Prince. Mother said that they can be found amongst the stems of the most beautiful flowers!” Your small hands began to nervously dust themselves off on your already dirty skirts. Aemond’s eye followed the motion, his upper lip curling in disgust. It had only been a couple of moons since the young prince had lost his eye. The scar was still fresh and red around the edges, the eyepatch clearly bothering him. For it appeared to be fastened too tight around his head. 

“Don’t be absurd, such pathetic things don’t exist. All you’ve succeeded in doing is soiling your clothes.” He motions down towards your skirts, your cheeks heating in embarrassment. Feeling ashamed to be talked down upon by someone you hoped to be a potential friend. Even though his eye, or lack thereof, scared most, you had found it intriguing. Your father had told you stories of men in faraway places who wore their scars like badges of honor, like trophies of war. The marred skin being a testament to their victories in battle. Your father however did not return to tell the tails of his own scars, for he had passed in the Stepstones, aiding Lord Corlys and Prince Daemon in their war. 

“My apologies my Prince, for I-” you dared a look up into face, his brows knit together, arms crossed over his chest. You lowered your eyes in shame once more “I shall go change my skirts at once.” And with that you darted off, not waiting for a response from the young Targaryen. 

That had been many years ago though, and you were no longer a child, and nor was he. Prince Aemond had grown into a handsome man, not just physically, but intellectually as well. The water of your bath had grown tepid as you recalled the memory, a slight frown adorning your features. Why had he wanted to marry you? He hardly had shown any interest, more likely it was because his mother and grandfather craved the military prowess your family possessed. They needed it for the impending war. So a proposal for your hand had been made, and your eldest brother eagerly accepted. After your father’s passing, and your mother grew older in age he had taken it upon himself to attend to the coming and goings of your house. 

It wasn’t that Aemond was exactly an unkind husband, he just wasn’t present, ever. There was always a reason or excuse for him to leave a room once you arrived. The only full night you had spent with him had been your wedding night, in your marital bed. He wasn’t rough, nor was he gentle, but he possessed an air of duty and responsibility when it came to the consummation. For once he spilled his spend inside of you he had fetched a cloth for you to clean yourself. Then turned his back to you and slept, not uttering another word. 

The sound of your chamber doors creaking open drew you from your thoughts. The clanking of a sword and heavy footsteps made their way towards you in the bathing room. You were met with the sight of your rather disheveled lord husband. Before you could offer him a greeting, however, his eye lifted to your face, and he asked: 

“May I join you?” Taken aback slightly by the question there was a pause, the room silent. Then, you nodded, “Yes, yes of course you may husband.” 

Aemond had waited for your approval before stripping himself bare of his clothes, riding clothes by the looks of it. He must have been out on Vhagar. You observe him as he untethered his belts and the laces of his boots. The years of training had done him well, his arms and back muscles lean and corded. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to drag your nails down them, as he fucked into you–

“Wife? Did you hear me?” Shit, he must have asked you something, looking up from the muscles of his arms to meet his eyes you shook your head. He chuckled a bit, smirking, you had been caught in your staring.

“I asked you, how was your day my lady wife.” A hint of amusement laced his voice, he had rid himself of his clothes, having placed them neatly over the back of one of the armchairs in the rooms. 

“Oh, well, it was alright. Nothing too exciting I'm afraid. I did have tea with your mother and sister though. That was quite pleasant, Helaena was telling me of the butterflies that come for the roses this time of year. She said we must go see them once they arrive.” As you spoke Aemond made his way around the tub, to behind you. It took an embarrassingly great deal of effort not to stare as he had presented himself bare before you. To look only above his waist and not let your eyes drift down towards his cock. 

“Mmh, yes we must see them then,” his cold hands met your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing, circles on them. This was his way of telling you to move forward, so that he may join you in the tub, taking his place behind you, and pulling you onto his lap. 

“You take such tepid baths wife. You’ll catch a cold one of these days.” He mumbled into your ear as he made himself comfortable behind you, his legs outstretched beside your own. It wasn’t that such small talk was uncommon between the two of you when he was around. Besides, you two did share chambers, so despite his avoidance during the day, he was bound to return to you at night. 

Turning fully to face him now, with a surge of annoyance, the water sloshing around the two of you with your sudden movements. “Why do you care? You are hardly even here to see me as is, I doubt you would even notice.” Aemond’s singular lilac eye widens, not from anger, but rather from surprise. His lady wife was always so sweet, so silent, this was new, and dare he say exciting. 

“A woman can only take so much you know–” You go to stand, to leave the tub, and go to bed, done with whatever this conversation is. Aemond’s hand shoots out to grasp your wrist, stopping you from doing so. 

“Wait!” It came out more harsh than he had intended. “I do care for you my lady, truly I do. I did not know that you–”

“Prove it.” You say interrupting whatever he is about to tell you. You keep your eyes level and voice steady. “Prove it to me then husband,”

Aemond says only one thing before attacking your lips, “As you wish,” He is not gentle in his kisses, he does not know how to be gentle. Perhaps you could teach him. His grasp on your wrist moves to your waist as he continues his assault on your lips. His hands roam the flesh of your waist, your hips, your thighs, his lips move down towards your neck. Biting and nipping at the flesh there, sure to leave a mark for all to see.

“Aemond–” 

“Shhh, let me take care of you tonight. Let me prove to you how much I desire you, my love.” He murmurs between bites and kisses. He pulls back, only for a moment, “You are beautiful, I am sorry I have not told you this enough,” his lips attach themselves to one of your breasts, suckling at the nipple. You let out a surprised breath as he bites down, a wave of pleasure shooting straight to your core.

His roaming hands have found purchase on your ass, his deft fingers kneading the plump flesh. Suddenly his grip becomes tighter as he rises from the tub with you in his arms, water spilling over the sides and onto the floor. You hurriedly wrap your arms around his neck, in an attempt to steady yourself. 

“Aemond! You’ve made a mess–” He laughs, fully this time, not just a chuckle. It’s a lovely sound you think.

 “Fuck the mess, the maids shall deal with it in the morning. I’ve neglected my dear lady wife and that must be rectified immediately. One of the hands on your ass pulls back and gives it a small slap. You gasp in surprise, tucking your face into his neck, peppering small kisses there, just as he had done to you moments before. You could get used to this side of your husband. Aemond lets out a hum of satisfaction at your ministrations, soon after playfully throwing you down onto your shared bed. 

“Aemond the sheets, they’re soaked now–” you began to protest cut off rather abruptly by his grip on your ankles. Pulling you down towards the end of the mattress, your cunt now level with his lips. 

“That should hardly matter, we have others–” he places a kiss on your inner thigh. “Besides the only thing I care to see soaked is your cunt after I am done–” Without another word or hesitation, Aemond licks a hot stripe up the center of your core. Then a second, and a third, until he loses all control. He devours you like a man starved. His strong arms wrap themselves around your things, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His tongue continues its assault on your cunt.

“You taste of the finest ambrosia–” the vibrations of his voice sending shock waves of electricity to your clit. Aemond is only spurred on further by the sound of your sweet moans. His name falling from your lips like a chant, like a prayer to the Seven. His lips find purchase on your clit, sucking and licking till you're writhing beneath him. Your hands shoot down, finding purchase in his long silver locks.

“Aemond, oh Aemond–” the words spill from your lips like nonsense. The only thing you are able to focus on is his lips and tongue lapping at your cunt. The man between your thighs devouring you like this is his last meal alive.

“Cum for me, cum on my tongue. And then I shall reward you with my cock. Cum for me my love–” As if on command, you feel the muscles of your lower abdomen contract, and then all that lovely pleasure overflows, and bursts from you. With a strangled cry of his name, you cum on his tongue. You look down at your husband between your thighs, his lips glistening in your release. 

“Good girl, my good, sweet, perfect girl. You did exactly what I asked,” he crawls up your body, stopping only to place the occasional kiss to your hot skin. His lips return to your neck, sucking love marks into the skin over the faint ones he had left before. A newfound favorite of his perhaps. He gives his cock a few strokes, his thumb collecting the beading drop of arousal from his tip. Wordlessly, he brings the digit up to your lips, pressing down gently on your bottom one. You open your mouth, sucking the essence from his finger, swirling your tongue around it, eager to please him. He groans in response, resting his forehead on yours, 

“Perhaps another night my love, I need to be inside of you now.” You release his thumb with a slight pop. 

“Fuck me then, husband–” Not needing any further encouragement, Aemond sheathes his cock inside of your cunt. The warm, velvety walls squeezing him perfectly. “Fuck–” he moans breathlessly as he slowly begins to thrust into your weeping cunt. The squelching noises from his movements turn your cheeks red, you move to hide your face in the crook of his neck once more, but a hand on your chin stops you. From above, Aemond’s lilac eye bores into your own, like a spell, you are unable to look away.

Aemond’s thrusting becomes faster, harder, like a man starved. The grasp on your chin returns to your hips. As Aemond rolls back slightly, sitting on his knees, he brings your hips to meet his, your back still on the bed. From this angle he has full control over your body, not that he hadn’t before. But now he could control his thrusts, making them sharper, harder. Beneath him, your eyes screw shut in pleasure, consumed by his ministrations. 

You look beautiful like this, he thinks. Cheeks red, hair a mess, sweat glistening on your skin. He had been a fool before, not indulging you more often. Not being by your side, it was a mistake he would make no more. He had been too afraid of your rejection, too afraid you would find him repulsive because of his scar. The scar that he himself found so disturbing. But clearly, the way his name fell from your lips, as your face contorted in pleasure, this was not the case. 

“Shall I cum inside of your perfect cunt? Shall I plant my seed, and watch you grow and swell with my child?” He barely recognized the words coming from his lips, too lost in carnal desire to notice. 

“Yes, yes Aemond, yes–” the words leaving your lips like a hymn, a prayer to your lord husband. Aemond’s fingers began to circle your bud as he continued to rut into you. 

“Together then, I can feel you little wife–” As if he possessed some kind of magic, you did as commanded. Aemond’s release coating your walls, both of you warm and well sated. Once more he leans down, leaving a small peck on your lips before resting his forehead on yours. 

“I have been a fool, a complete and utter fool. I am not a great man in many ways my sweet lady wife. But for you perhaps I could be,” He places another kiss on your lips. 

“I would like that very much Aemond,” you smile a bit as you say this because it is true and it would be unfair to not allow him to prove as much. After all, that is what you asked of him is it not? Without pulling out or away from you, Aemond rolls to his side, tucking you into him, desperate to keep you in his arms. 

“Stay like this with me tonight, please?” He asks, afraid you’ll send him away. 

“Tonight and every night if you behave,” you give him a slight pinch to add emphasis to your comment. You feel his chest vibrate against your cheek with laughter. 

“As you wish,” he says one final time, as the two of you drift off to sleep, held safely in the arms of one another.

[little-diable]

Cocky Tornado Wrangler – Tyler Owens (smut)

Finally watching Twisters tonight. My poor aunt who has to listen to me gush about our husband. Thank you so much for the love on my other Tyler fic, I hope y'all will love this just as much. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: There are many things (y/n) would prefer to having to share a room with the man she hates. But does she really hate him? Or will the bed they share be enough to push them closer together?

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), piv, enemies to lovers, lots of teasing

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.8k words)

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Her voice dripped with exhaustion, eyes tired and ready to flutter shut any moment now. But fuck, she couldn’t give in just yet, had to fight yet another battle with the self proclaimed tornado wrangler who was staring down at her with his signature smirk glued to his lips.

The smirk he wore in every video of his. Videos she watched whenever they were uploaded to his channel. Not that she’d ever tell Tyler that. And god forbid he’d ever stumble upon the saved favourites she watched in moments where she needed distraction from everything but him. 

“Well, seems like your prayers were answered, pretty. An EF4 and now we get to share a room, certainly feels like we’re even closer to heaven now, doesn’t it?” Tyler’s hand found her waist to give it a soft squeeze before he gently pushed her further into the motel room. It had been an exhausting day, filled with adrenaline highs as they chased tornadoes until the late evening. Even though they had been mesmerised by the beautiful disaster, they were now forced to stay in one of the close towns, cut off from the highway heading home. 

“I can take the couch.” She had her eyes set on the rather worn out couch which had been pushed against one of the walls that were painted in a faded out pink colour. The whole room made her feel like she was back at her grandparents home, letting an almost melancholic feeling settle in the pit of her stomach. 

“You sure you don’t wanna share? The bed’s big enough, or I could take the couch.” Tyler hung up his still wet hat before placing his bag down on the bed. (Y/n) watched him take in the room, giving her a few seconds to curse him for wearing a white shirt that now clung to his muscular upper body. His back muscles were shining through the wet fabric, letting her get lost in the thoughts of how it must feel to brush her nails along his soft skin. Thoughts that shot heat straight down to her core, knowing that she’d have to take care of that cursed longing in the shower. 

“In your dreams, Owens, and we both know you won’t fit on that couch.” His raspy laugh left her grinning, unable to stop her tired face from reacting to the man (y/n) claimed she hated and yet needed to feel close at any given chance. 

“Trust me, baby, my dreams are all about sharing a bed with you and so much more.” With a wink thrown her way, Tyler plopped down on the bed. He studied her for a moment, taking in her wet frame while his tongue kissed his teeth and his muscular arms were locked behind his head. She needed to get out of here, needed to find shelter in the warm shower before her body would do something she couldn’t stop it from doing. 

“I’ll grab a quick shower.” (Y/n) didn’t wait for his reply, darting for the bathroom that was just big enough for her to let go of a deep breath. 

She hated that she had dreamt of moments like these, wondering how it may play out with Tyler by her side, having to share a bed while the world outside was ending. And all they’d have eyes for would be one another, no matter how many tornadoes called for them. 

Within seconds, (y/n) had shuffled out of her wet clothes only to step into the small shower. She couldn’t stop her soft moan from leaving her as the warm water cascaded down her back as if it were hugging her. The silence she was now offered forced her thoughts back to the longing she couldn’t shake, the need to take care of the pulsing between her thighs that grew stronger with every passing moment. 

Her fingers moved quickly, knowing that she didn’t have much time before Tyler would disturb her peace, desperate for a shower himself. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her fingers circle her pulsing bundle, imaging Tyler’s fingers instead of her own. 

Would he touch her with the same kind of urgency? Would he draw the same moans from her she oh so desperately wanted to give in to? No, he wouldn’t. He’d make her feel things she had never felt before, clashing through her like a tornado stronger than she had ever been fortunate enough to study. Tyler Owens was her own personal disaster and she was close to letting him rip her off her feet, close to allowing him to have his way with her without being able to protest. 

“Fuck,” the word rolled off her tongue all too quickly, knowing that she was already close to giving in to her high. (Y/n) didn’t pay the ache in her forearm any mind, didn’t worry about the way her fingers begged her to move slower, all she was focused on were her thoughts that painted a picture of Tyler and the way he’d touch her.

And with her head rolled back and her lips tightly pressed together, she came. (Y/n) let her orgasm wash through her, rubbing her pulsing bundle a few more times before her tired body found its way out of the shower.

It took her a second to realise that she hadn’t taken any clean clothes with her, drawing yet another exhausted groan from her. Carefully, she opened the door, hiding behind her towel while her eyes found Tyler’s frame. No longer was he wearing his shirt, exposing his muscular upper body to her eyes which tried to burn every inch of his naked skin into her mind. 

“Tyler,” her soft voice drew his eyes from his phone. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

She expected a snarky comment, anything to tease her and rile her up some more, but Tyler stayed quiet, eyes focused on the parts of her body that weren’t covered by the door or her towel. (Y/n) could have sworn that he had swallowed heavily first before rising to his feet to reach for his bag. His eyes stayed glued to her while he reached a shirt out for her to take, letting his fingers brush against hers for a moment. 

It was cheesy almost, the buzz of lighting striking her at the small contact. A touch so small and yet so significant, her mind would probably think of it for days and nights to come.

With a small “thank you” rolling off her tongue, (y/n) stepped back into the bathroom to put on the shirt, grateful that it was long enough to cover her panties. Trembling legs carried her back into the room, not daring to look at Tyler, whose eyes she felt on her frame. No words were spoken between them as he pushed past her into the bathroom, allowing (y/n) to deeply exhale the second she was left alone once again. 

……

The moments after Tyler had returned from the shower, wearing nothing but boxers that clung to his body just as tightly as his wet shirt had, had been filled with a tight atmosphere. Barely any words had been shared between them, not as she had made herself comfortable on the couch, not as he had turned off the light while stretching out on the bed.

She had turned her back to him to stop her eyes from wandering, knowing that no matter how tired she was, her mind wouldn’t let her rest. Not when he was so close to her. Not when she heard his uneven breaths that told her he was still awake. Not when she could easily move closer to feel him pressed against her. 

What was he thinking of? Was he still riled up by today’s chase? Or was he also thinking of those moments where he had passed his shirt to her? 

Even though she begged her body to stay calm, to not move back towards him, she lost the fight within seconds. Her front was turned towards him, letting her eyes rest on the parts of his body that weren’t hidden by the blanket, making her awfully aware of how close he was to her. 

This was unusual for them, quiet moments where neither spoke, where no teasing or bickering could be heard. Nothing but the breaths both let go of while he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling and she wasn't strong enough to look away from him just yet.

“I can feel you staring, pretty.” Tyler rolled his head towards her, eyes meeting (y/n)’s like lightning striking a tree, buzzing straight through it to set it ablaze. “What’s going on in that confusing mind of yours?”

“Just because you’re not smart enough to understand my thoughts it doesn’t mean my mind’s confusing.” The words had left her all too quickly, drawing a gritty laugh from Tyler. A sound she loved hearing, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. A sound that left her smiling the second her ears were fortunate enough to hear it. 

“You wound me. I’d say we’re a pretty good team when it comes to understanding your plans.” Heat spread through every part of her body, a heat she was all too used to by now but still didn’t know how to work with. She rolled her eyes at Tyler before refocusing on his handsome features, taking in every part of the face she knew like the back of her hand. 

Her breath hitched in her chest as he lifted the blanket, patting the spot next to him, “Come up here, I don’t need you complaining about back pain tomorrow.”

(Y/n)’s body moved without holding back, crawling to the spot next to him as if she had done this numerous times before. It felt awfully right to lay next to him, to feel Tyler’s arm slowly wrap around her middle to cage her against his chest. 

“Do you remember the first time we chased together?” She tried to stop her hand from moving as he spoke, she really did. But yet (y/n) miserably failed, unable to keep away from his soft skin any longer, needing to feel it beneath her wandering fingers as she traced slow patterns on the skin of his warm chest. 

“I wanted to break your nose that day, god, you were even cockier back then. Do you still think people instantly recognise you when you meet them?” He shook his head with a smirk playing on his lips, tightening his grip on (y/n) as she shuffled even closer. That day was replaying in her mind every now and then, remembering how he had misjudged her for a fangirl, expecting her to almost faint when shaking his hand. And yet she hadn’t known much about him, had never watched any of his videos before that day. Something Tyler hadn’t taken as lightly as he should have, turning into the cocky asshole she had cursed for the past months.

“I no longer care about that, only worry about impressing you, pretty.” He pressed a kiss to her hairline before he let his eyes flicker back to the ceiling. His sharp jawline was exposed to her wandering eyes, making (y/n) awfully aware of how easily she could kiss him right now. It took everything in her not to move, to hold still as her heart picked up its beat. Whatever it was that had urged her on to fight against him these past months, it was now gone, leaving her unable to fight back and in need of something more. 

“We both know that’s a lie, Owens. All you worry about is tornadoes and busty women who ask you to sign their cleavages.” Her laugh was mixed with his as he let his gaze find hers again while squeezing her side. She fought against his grip, hating that he had found her most ticklish spot that made her toss and turn against him. Tyler seemed to enjoy the sight, letting his fingers find the spot again while shifting her around to hover over (y/n). With one hand pressed to the pillow and his knees caging in her right thigh, he left her no room to move away from him. 

“Do I hear jealousy?” His eyes wandered over her face, focusing on her lips as she fought against the need to look away. “You know there’s no need to be jealous, pretty. All you gotta do is give in and stop fighting our bond.” 

A sharp reply was burning on her tongue, and yet her body managed to win the fight, letting her fingers find the back of Tyler’s neck to pull him in for a soft kiss. He instantly replied to the touch, adding more pressure to the kiss with his body shuffling closer. It felt as if they were burning, tied together like two matches setting a petrol station ablaze, ready to alight the darkening night. 

With every swipe of his tongue, with every moan rumbling through them, it set in further that this was finally happening, that they were finally crossing that last bridge. No longer was she set on fighting it, purely focused on Tyler’s touch and the need to feel him as close as humanly possible. 

“Talk to me, baby, what do you want?” Her mind was torn between the kisses they kept sharing and the feeling of him growing against her thigh, telling (y/n) that he needed and wanted this as much as she did. Her fingers combed through his hair, letting her nails scratch his skin with just enough pressure to leave him tingling in excitement. 

“Everything, I want all of you, Tyler.” Hours ago she would have cursed herself for giving in so easily, for admitting that insatiable hunger she had felt for months now. But she no longer found it in herself to care, could no longer shy away from having whatever Tyler was about to offer her. Her words drew a groan from the tall tornado wrangler who kissed his way down her throat while shifting his weight onto his knees. They held eye contact as his hands disappeared beneath the shirt of his she was wearing, finding their way straight to her chest. 

“Fuck, feels like you were made for me, every part of you.” His praises sank in like a ship hitting the ocean ground, sinking lower with every passing second, forever resting on the ground like the praises he spoke to her. Forever etched into her mind. Forever remembering the way they made her feel lightheaded and giddy. 

Urgently he pulled the shirt over her head, set on exposing her body to his hungry eyes. Tyler let go of another groan as he looked down at her, making a silent promise that he’d have to take a picture of her in that position one of these days. He dipped his head down to  suck on her nipples, making her moan for him while she spread her thighs for him. His core met hers, leaving both breathless as his clothed cock rubbed against her clothed heat – a feeling so intense, it only urged Tyler on to move further down her body. 

“Will you let me taste you, pretty?” Only a breathless “Please” left (y/n), drawing a smirk to his lips. She watched his eyes light up as he pushed her panties down her legs, looking like he was marvelling at art – art so mesmerising he couldn’t stop staring. 

“Let me make you feel good, baby.” Those were the last words Tyler spoke before his tongue brushed her folds, drawing a moan from the both of them. His arms wove their way around her thighs, keeping her pressed to him as he ate her out like a starving man, high on her taste and the sounds she made for him. 

Nothing but moans managed to leave (y/n), getting lost in the feeling of Tyler sucking on her pulsing bundle, while he pushed two fingers into her – doing just what she had imagined him doing in the shower a while ago. He instantly managed to find that spot that made her see stars as he pressed down on it with his fingers, forcing (y/n) to choke on her sounds.

“Oh god, Tyler,” he chuckled against her skin, letting the sound vibrate through every part of her. From the corner of his eyes he could see her fist the covers with her free hand, the one that wasn’t buried in his hair, telling him that she was already close. And yet Tyler knew that he’d pull away soon, wanting to feel her cum around his cock like he had imagined her doing the past months. 

Tyler had worked hard for her attention, knowing that he had fucked it up the first time they had met. She had instantly managed to push him off his high horse, bruising his ego with her sharp words he could still recite today. And yet it had only made him desperate for more, set on pulling her closer like no other woman before her. 

“I could die a happy death between your thighs, pretty, but I need to fuck you now.” The dazy look she shot him made him feel proud, knowing that she had been about to cum on his tongue. She didn’t reply, at least not with words, with nothing but a whine did she pull him towards her for another kiss. He shuffled out of his boxers, freeing his twitching cock with a few movements. 

“Let me grab a condom.” He left her side for a moment, allowing (y/n) to sort through her thoughts which were all over the place. And yet she couldn’t carry about anything but the need to feel him buried inside of her, knowing that once she knew what it feels like to have him so close, she’d never be able to let him go again. A thought that left her torn between excitement and anxiety, unsure what was awaiting them. 

“Do you still want this? We don’t have to do this if you’re unsure, (y/n).” Tyler’s whispers ripped her out of her spiralling thoughts. She shook her head at him before pulling back in, focused on his handsome face, mustering every spot she could blindly find. 

“I want this, want you.” That’s all he needed to hear before aligning himself with her heat and slowly pushing into her. With his forehead pressed against hers, both needed a moment to adjust, not expecting to feel this, unable to put the sensation into any words that would make sense to their minds. It felt like they had been made for one another, made solemnly for this moment that felt as if the world had spinning, thrown off its path. 

“Move, please, Ty’.” He instantly gave in, pulling out of her only to push in with more strength. Their bodies met with every ferocious thrust, sending bolts of electricity down her spine. She arched her back off the mattress, needing to be even closer to him while he kept burying himself inside of her. 

Blood rushed in her ears, drowning everything out but the sounds Tyler made, sounds so raspy and deep she feared it was another tornado growing in the distance, guttural sounds which left her walls fluttering around his cock. Her fingernails scratched at his shoulder, set on leaving red marks that wouldn’t fade for days, claiming him in the most primal way she could come up with at that moment. 

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you like that for the rest of my life.” The words roll off his tongue just like that. There was no way he could stop them from leaving him. And for the first time in minutes she finds herself ripped out of her state, staring up at him with wide eyes. But Tyler doesn’t say another word, all he does is study her while fucking her closer to the edge. 

“Do you mean that?” She struggled to speak, needing to ground herself before choking on her words. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as he nodded his head while watching a smile grow on her slightly swollen lips. “Good, I don’t want you to let me go again, Owens.”

He took the words as a challenge, adding even more pressure to his thrusts to throw (y/n) back into her dazed state. With his fingers circling her pulsing bundle, he knew that it was only a matter of moments before she’d cum around his cock, allowing him to take in the most beautiful sight he’d ever be fortunate enough to see. 

His name left (y/n) one last time before falling off the edge. His hips kept meeting hers, fucking her through her high while feeling his own crawling closer. She clung to him, murmuring his name like her own personal mantra as he followed her, letting go with a groan she’d forever remember.

It took both a moment to move again, for him to pull out of her and to get rid of the condom and for her to slightly shift around on the mattress, watching his every move with her weight balanced on her forearms. Tyler found his way back to her within seconds, hovering over her to press another kiss to the lips he’d never get tired of kissing. 

“Are you okay?” His whispers left (y/n) grinning, nodding against his lips while another wave of euphoria swapped through her. 

“More than.” Unspoken feelings were hanging heavily in the air, knowing that both would have to address them rather soon, but all they did was look at one another, marvelling at the person they never wanted to let go of again. “Thank you for this.”

“Nothing to thank me for, pretty. And hell, I’m not even close to being finished with you tonight.”

[pedgito]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 | Marcus Acacius x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | once your dad's greatest friend, now his greatest enemy. you cannot shake the desire and care you feel for the fallen general, even as he heads toward death.

author's note | LISTEN, none of this is going to be accurate. and frankly idc, i'm horny i needed to write this do not come at me. no source material? idc i'm still writing it. anyways, enjoy the p*rn. (if you're reading this prior to the movie coming out, none of this is canon. this is just an idea that i wanted to write and felt like posting, if you do not like the idea of writing without source material, please do not engage or send me asks to be combative, they will be deleted. i won't be continuing this specific fic and will not be writing for him again until the movie comes out.)

content warning | 18+ smut, this is dbf for the gladiator girlies (gn), sneaking around, descriptions of smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampies, breeding kink, age gap (reader is early 20s, marcus is late 40s/early 50s), alcohol tw, innocence kink

word count —2k

You knew he would be here soon, he must. 

You curled into the dark corners of the arena hall, having been here since dawn with your own father, a high military commander who struck down Marcus as punishment for such things even he wouldn’t tell you about. You knew nothing, heard nothing—you weren’t allowed such privilege. 

It has been days since you last saw him—Marcus. General Acacius to many, another esteemed leader amongst the masses, and a once great friend to your father. Though, that was no longer.

You often called him sir, finding that General Acacius was quite the mouthful. Or often just General, but his endearment toward you was blatant and he insists, almost pleading that you drop the formality when alone. Which was easier, as your fondness of him grew.

It started at a celebration, one of the many grand parties thrown in celebration of fight won or any reason for the men to drink, but Marcus liked to linger. Often tucked away in a corner watching the madness unfold, you were too curious to stay locked up in your room.

The first night he caught your eye, it was a smile around the edge of his silver goblet drowning in red wine, a hand crossed over his chest as he watched you slip away in fear that he may say something to your father.

But, he never did.

For weeks after, it progresses. From a smile, to a lingering gaze, eventually he finds himself inching closer to you, week by week. Until one night he finally finds the courage in himself to be waiting by the corner you often sneak around, watching curiously.

“You are pushing it, dove.” He speaks softly, his eyes downturned to look at you from the step he was on above you, slowly inching down until he was level, “if he catches you—”

“He hasn’t,” You tell him in a clipped, hushed tone, “and you haven’t said anything. You won’t….will you?”

He bypasses the question, “Why do you come here?” Marcus curiously asks, “These men, they are—animals, if they see you dressed like that, they would not hesitate to—”

You had on a pale nightgown, thin and barely enough to cover your modesty but it was enough. The sticky, summer heat prickled your skin, formed a line of sweat across your brow and you huffed out at his words, “My father would murder them. Besides, you are not like them. So, why do you linger here?”

He was much more than a friend, closer and akin to family. 

But, he had his own troubles. Stepson, a wife, he should be away caring for them. Yet, he was there with a disgruntled scowl and eyes only set on you.

“Why not?” He shrugs, “It is…quite entertaining. Isn’t that why you sneak around here to watch?”

You mimic his shrug, shying away slightly as you pull away to leave, but his hand catches your wrist, his cup placed in the gap of pillars separating you both. His facial expressions show an internal battle of thought, like he’s fighting against the bad and hoping the good would win out.

Unfortunately, the bad prevails.

“Let us walk,” He tells you, nodding toward the exit a few feet away, “if you would accompany me?”

You nod eagerly, switching the grip on your wrist to curl around his bicep, muscular and hard from years of fight training. He flexes slightly at the touch, covering his free hand over yours in a comforting gesture. 

He made you feel safe. And that was all that mattered to you.

—

The walk was the first mistake.

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before you found yourself tucked away by a nearby tent, unbuckling and unfastening Marcus out of his gear hastily before he fucked you under your nightgown—gentle but firm. He was the first man, the first ever to have you in such a way. You’d told him so as your hands shook under the weight of his gaze, the taste of bitter wine on his lips. He’d kissed you as he pushed his cock inside of you and didn’t stop until you were tipping over the edge.

Over time, you grow bolder. Sneaking him back into your home was easy, knowing the guards weren’t as watchful in the late, late hours of the night. It was dangerous, reckless, but as you tug him down into the cellar and sink to your knees, it all fades away quickly.

His little dove, he often calls you. Sweet dove, so pure and innocent. His hand caresses your chin as you swallow him down, eyes locked on his half-lidded gaze before he comes down your throat, nose scrunching up slightly and his brow furrowing, biting at the back of his other hand to muffle the groan that escapes him.

It was always like this—hurried and quick fucks that didn’t diminish the feeling, but reminded you how easily you could both be caught. It continues for months…and months, until suddenly he stops coming around.

No parties, no visits—Marcus had become a ghost.

But, enough digging had led you here, tucked away in the shadows again—but watching as he fought for his life. The other man was much older, weaker, and Marcus struck him down within a matter of minutes, blood splattering across his face as he stuck again and again, bashing the poor man’s skull in until it was nothing, teeth gritting as his body surged with adrenaline.

Gladiator fighting wasn’t a new thing—and you knew he wasn’t the only one, but why?

He’s making his way down the arena toward the pillar you are tucked behind unknowingly, alone and battered as the guards run off to dispose of the body. You aren’t sure where Marcus is going now or when you would see him again, but you take the chance when you know no one is watching, grabbing him by the armor plate on his chest and pulling him away and into a dusty closet, knocking into a stack of buckets in the process.

You gasp as his hand wraps around your neck, fist cocked back in preparation of an attack.

But, then his eyes land on you.

“Dove, what are you—”

You shush him quickly, hands molding against his face and the dried blood, his breathing quick and short as you attempt to calm him.

“I had to see you—I thought…I thought you had—”

“I might as well be,” Marcus replies somberly, “we cannot meet like this. We cannot meet at all.”

“It’s fine, It’s fine–” You assure him, reaching forward to press your lips against his.

Marcus pulls away hesitantly, grabbing your face roughly until you look at him, eyes widening.

“They will kill you. I cannot see you again. I should not even be here with you.”

Your eyes well with tears, forcing yourself forward again to capture his lips and this time he allows it, opening his mouth slightly as your tongue dips inside, working silently at the buckles to his chest plate.

“No talking. Let us…enjoy this. If it is the last time.”

You were both well aware—he would fight for his life or die, that was it. And he would fight until that point came. He was no longer a General, completely stripped of his power. But, he was still Marcus. And you would hold onto that for as long as you could.

He’s shaking, the adrenaline raking his body and making him restless as you kissed him, tongue dipping into his mouth again as his hands roamed, squeezed, caressed. 

“I will not break,” You whisper into his mouth, “take what you need, Marcus.”

It was all he needed to hear, turning you around swiftly and forcing your down with a hand against your back, arms pressing into the shelf in front of you as he pushed up the silk, carefully woven and intricate fabric of your dress—so pristine and perfect. He wanted to rip it off you, be he refrains, squeezing at your hips while he kneels behind you.

“Marcus, you need not—”

“Quiet, little dove. Let me have this,” He licks against your cunt hungrily, noisy slurps as he lapped you up, squeezing less than gentle at the inside of your thighs as they shook, his tongue swiping over your clit, a broken moan slipping past your lips, “beautiful—let me hear you.”

“Marcus,” You plea, his fingers joining his tongue as they breached you and drag against the soft, but incredibly sensitive spot inside of you, your hand reaching for his wrist tucked between your legs as you whined out his name once more, twice, until your legs gave out, feelings his strong, broad shoulders flexing as he used his brute strength to keep you upright, licking up the gush of fluids that leak out of you, rising with haste and untucking himself from his garments, wrapping a gentle hand around the back of your neck before he’s pulling you upright harshly.

“Want to leave you something,” He whispers against the shell of your ear, “something to remember me, if I shall never leave here. Something of me for you to carry on. Alright, sweet dove?”

You nod knowingly, as Marcus had always been careful to pull himself out before breaching that point. He was always careful, hesitant—but being on the brink of death, he found himself careless and desperate. He couldn’t let you go.

He slips inside of you with a hand tucked around your throat, pulling your back to his chest as he snapped his hips into you firmly, groaning lewdly into the side of your neck as he bit down, squeezing at your throat with every soft sound you made and you want it just as bad, forcing your hips back into every push of his cock—you were positive this pain would last you into next week, but you needed that reminder. His fingers dip into your skin, hard and uncaring and sure to leave marks, but that was what you wanted.

And his groans quickly turn needy, more high-pitched than you’ve ever heard them

He’s holding back, restraining himself. You turn your head, catching his heated gaze as he pants, your thumb tracing over his lip. His hand drags over your stomach, rests, curious of how beautiful you would look swollen and carrying his child. 

It is a hopeful and distant dream, one that he will never foresee.

“Give it to me, Marcus,” You beg him, “I want it.”

It so easily undoes him, “Take it, my dove,” He growls, coming deep inside of you with a shaky thrust of his hips, squeezing you tight against him, “I think of you, always. You must know—know that.” 

It pulls at your heart, tugs in a way that makes your entire body ache. He pulls out with a low grunt, silently tucking himself away as you adjust your dress.

“And I love you,” You admit, watching as his gaze pulls up quickly, “even if you cannot say it back. I know. I know you do.”

Marcus breathes harshly through his nose, crowding you once more but it is soothed by a gentle kiss, “You need to leave—do not come back here.”

“Marcus,” You counter, sadness lacing your tone.

“If, by some miracle, I make it out of here,” He drags his thumb along your jawline, pausing on his words as he looks you over, memorizes you, “I will find you.”

You nod jerkily, eyes never breaking from his, “Just like you always have.”

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

thanks to @chaotic-mystery & @pr0ximamidnight for being the absolute best friends ever and beta'ing this for me on a moments notice, ily both.

[samuelsdean]

Sweater Weather

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: "want to warm up?" he gestured to the hem of his sweater with a hint of concern in his eyes.

genre: fluff

word count: 1k

author's notes: i'm back with another spencer fic! i miss my baby and his fluffy sweaters so much i had to write about it.

THE BAU HUMMED WITH THE GENTLE WHOOSHING OF THE HARSH AIR CONDITIONER, THE FLUORESCENT LIGHTS CASTING A BRIGHT PALLOR OVER EVERYTHING. You huddled deeper into your thin knitted sweater, the thin material a weak attempt at shielding yourself against the bone-deep chill. You blame it on the current heat wave the Quantico area is facing these days . You would've opted for thicker clothing to adequately face the onslaught of the office's air conditioner, if not for the debilitating heat you'd suffer from once you've stepped foot outside of the building.

You sighed, climate change sucks ass.

Today was a slow day—or at least compared to your usual at the BAU—there was no new case. Thankfully. Maybe serial killers do know how to take breaks from time to time; unfortunately for federal agents, breaks were uncommon. If you weren't out chasing whatever criminal who spawned at the most random backwoods in the country, you were stuck at your desk poring through case files, the only sound competing with the monotonous drone of the ventilation system.

A sliver of envy pricked at you as you stole a glance at Spencer, perched on his chair like a Greek statue sculpted from focus. He seemed impervious to the cold in a yellow button-down and his thick-knitted maroon sweater. He was a beacon of warmth and comfort in his thick sweater as if to mock your lack of layers fending the chilliness in the BAU that could practically rival the iciness of the Arctic. Suddenly, a traitorous draft snaked down your spine, sending shivers cascading across your skin.

You rubbed your hands together, a futile attempt to generate some friction heat. A sigh threatened to escape your lips, but you bit it back, hoping the day wouldn't drag on much longer. You couldn't wait to get back home and bury yourself in your bed before you freeze to death at your desk or worse, get another call from Hotch saying you have a case sprouting out of nowhere.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Spencer shift. He flicked a glance your way, his gaze lingering on your clenched fists a beat too long. A question lurked in the quirked brow he offered.

"Cold?" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the rustling papers.

You offered a weak smile and sniffed, a single nod the only response you could muster.

Hesitation flickered across his face, then, in a move so swift it stole your breath, he patted the extra chair beside his. "Come here," he said softly.

Confusion battled the tinge of warmth that had started in your chest as you shuffled closer to your coworker. As you settled beside him, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Want to warm up?" He gestured to the hem of his sweater with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Understanding bloomed on your face, accompanied by a blush that crept up your neck.

"Oh," you mumbled. "I... I-um, are you sure, Spence? I mean, it's pretty cold here."

This was unorthodox , to say the least . But the thought of thawing your frozen fingers was undeniably appealing.

"I wouldn't want to impose on you..." You continued but were cut off.

Without missing a beat, Spencer lifted the edge of his sweater, creating a welcoming pocket before you could finish what you were sputtering about.

You bit your lip, then slowly reached out, your fingers disappearing into the soft wool. The sensation was like burrowing into a cloud, sun-warmed and comforting. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you wiggled your fingers, relishing the sudden relief. Instantly, you remembered you were currently clinging to Spencer like a baby koala and squeaked in embarrassment.

A soft chuckle rumbled in Spencer's chest, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He continued to work, stealing occasional glances at your hands nestled beneath his sweater. A warmth bloomed in your chest that had nothing to do with temperature. It was as if time stopped between you and the man as you created your little bubble encompassing just you and Spencer; forgetting that it wasn't just the two of you in the room, but also the rest of your team.

Out of nowhere, Spencer began to murmur something that you could barely hear despite the proximity between you two, so you scuffled closer and leaned toward him. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I hope you're comfortable," Spencer mumbled, his voice barely a whisper above the rustling papers . A hint of pink dusted his cheeks, a telltale sign of his usual shyness.

You flashed him a warm smile. " Absolutely, Spence. Thanks for offering."

He dipped his head in a quick nod, then, after a moment's hesitation, surprised you with a question. "Did you know women tend to feel colder than men?

Intrigued, you hummed in response, enjoying the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he spoke.

There was a childlike eagerness in Spencer's voice whenever he delved into his knowledge. You knew it stemmed from a time in his life when conversation was scarce—too busy taking care of his mom and raising himself. You always encouraged him, finding his enthusiasm endearing. His voice, with its gentle cadence and thoughtful delivery, held a certain charm, or maybe it was just a crush, one you'd harbored since day one, but refused to admit it, for fear of being rejected.

"It's all about body composition and size," he explained, facts tumbling out in a rapid stream . "Women generally have less muscle mass, which generates heat. Plus, they have a higher percentage of body fat compared to men, about 6 to 11%. And being smaller means women have a larger surface area to volume ratio, leading to faster heat loss."

You feigned contemplation, nodding thoughtfully. A playful smile lit up your face, making a blush creep up Spencer's neck. "Well, then I guess I'm lucky to have you and your sweater, wouldn't you say?"

He stammered, his hand instinctively reaching to scratch his neck. A shy bob of his head was his only reply.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, the air thick with unspoken feelings. Lost in the warmth of shared space, the workday flew by unnoticed. As you gathered your things, your eyes met Spencer's. A shy smile played on his lips, and in that silent exchange, a secret bloomed amidst the usual hustle and bustle of the BAU.

The team, privy to your oblivious dance, exchanged knowing glances and muffled snickers. "Ah, young love," Rossi chuckled under his breath.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Benji Blackwood fic idea: apparently he’s a shy, honourable nobleman but an absolute unhinged feral warrior in battle. I can just imagine him being super sweet with his spouse but unleashing hell to the people that hurt her?

I live for protective characters ahaha

Taglist: @pearldaisy

You didn’t know what to think of Benjicot Blackwood, you really didn’t. All you knew of the man was the stories told of how much of a rabid dog he was in the heat of battle, that the moment he gets going he’s an ruthless and unstoppable force who smiled in the face of death.

The definition of a monster on the battlefield.

So when you finally met him you were confused, for Benjicot was anything unlike the terrifying man in the stories you’ve been told, but an awkward and somewhat shy man who’s kind smile had you feeling a light floating sensation within your chest. Benjicot Blackwood had to be the sweetest, most kindest nobleman you have ever had the pleasure to meet in the Riverlands. It also didn’t help that he was a handsome man on top of that too, with his beautiful eyes and well structured face, which helped somewhat but wasn’t the most important thing to you in any regard and merely an added attribute.

‘I had a feeling your feet would have you wandered off here.’ He says with a smile that reached his eyes before making himself at home by taking up the space beside you.

‘And a good morrow to you my lord.’ You greet him as you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making your head comfortable against his shoulder, glad that it was him who had found you rather than some wandering stranger. Ben sighs as he feels himself relax beneath your sweet affection, resting his head atop of yours as his hand reaches to intertwined with yours, a reminder that this was real and that you were real because to Ben you felt more of a dream then anything on most days and he didn’t wish to wake from this dream if it meant being by your side. ‘How many times have I told you to just call me Ben.’ Ben asks you softly, pressing a kiss to your head, already knowing the answer but just wanted an excuse to hear your voice.

You shifted to look him in the eyes and smile. ‘Too many to count?’

‘Too many to count indeed.’ Ben echoed in a lighthearted tone. ‘I swear you do this just to provoke me my darling.’ He adds as he looks at you just as the light catches his eye from between the leaves of the tree you sought shade under, making him appear more beautiful than he already was as you felt his calloused hand gently caress the back of your hand. It was strange, knowing that the man of the many stories and had the rough hands that further proved those stories of his unkept rage in battle true, could ever hold something or someone as gently and as softly as he did you.

You kiss his cheek again, finding it increasingly difficult to not grasp his face and kiss him on those plush lips of his, your silently cursed Ben for making you feel like that as you found yourself pressed further into his side, looking at him as though he had hung the stars in the sky in your honour. ‘Why would you say such a thing my lord?’ You said innocently enough but the spark of desire within Ben’s eyes were evident as he moved to rest his head against yours while he whispers huskily.

‘For you are well aware enough of the effect it has over me when it’s coming from your lips specifically.’

Before you could say anything in response a group of Brackens had came out of seemingly nowhere, snickering, and the sweet Benjicot Blackwood you had come to fall for was pushed aside for the man you’ve heard tales of as he moved to stand up in response of seeing his house rival.

‘Mind fucking off back home Bracken.’ Ben practically spat the name as though it were poison in his mouth.

‘Why? So you and your little beloved can have a little moment of privacy?’ The man in Bracken house colours said humourlessly as he looked over Ben’s shoulder to look at you. ‘Why ain’t you a pretty thing, Blackwood here is lucky to have you warm his bed I’m sure of it.�� You fought back the urge to smack the vile looking grin off of his face that brought forth a rage you didn’t know you had.

Ben must’ve felt your anger from where he stood as he moved himself so that he was in the Bracken’s line of sight, staring him down with a glare that contrasted the softness that was seemingly only reserved for your eyes only, or anyone that wasn’t a Bracken that was. ‘Keep my lady’s name out your fucking mouth.’ He seethed, jaw tense as his clenched his fists, readying himself for the inevitable fight that was about to come.

The dirty blonde haired man looked at Ben as though asking with his eyes if he was being serious and almost burst out laughing when he saw the look of pure rage encompass his entire face. ‘Oh, oh you’re being serious? Is Blackwood getting mad that his lady might have wandering eyes?’ Ben took a sharp inhale at the thought of this cunt being anywhere near you, his most dearest. The man was trying to get under his skin and he was succeeding, he knew he was in the way Ben looked more and more like a man on the verge of snapping.

Testing his luck, the dirty blonde from house Bracken took a step closer towards Ben but before his foot could touch ground or his words leave his mouth, Ben already had him tackled to the ground within a heartbeat and punching the absolute shit out of him; all the while as his little friends ran away scared that they’d be next in line, uncaring that their leader was pleading for them to help him.

The fight was severely on sided from what you could see, Ben had already broken the man’s nose and his knuckles were bruised, but in the midst of the all the adrenaline he was feeling in that moment the pain was forgotten as he kept punching the dirty blonde Bracken with the foul mouth, only until he was satisfied with his work and that the Bracken was rendered unconscious.

You didn’t move or say anything as Ben stood over the beaten and bloodied man with a crazed look in his eye, unsure of how to feel, before he looking back at you with that softness and care you came to adore. ‘Are you okay?’ He asks. It wasn’t until now did you see that the Bracken did manage to clip Ben on the mouth with something sharp, causing it to spit the skin and made him bleed, but you couldn’t help but find the sight of Ben in the aftermath of a fight oddly attractive; his chest was heaving, his hair disheveled and his knuckles both bruised and bloodied.

Your silence didn’t sit right with Ben as his brows furrowed and a lump in his throat formed as he crossed over to you, holding your face in his hands, snapping you out of your daze as you found yourself distributing your face between his beautiful eyes and his busted lip. ‘I didn’t scare you did I?’ He asks, worried of what you’ll say but when you placed your hands over his own, keeping him there as a soft smile graced your lips.

‘Scared? No, oh my gods no Benjicot, you didn’t scare me.’ You reassured him, looking him over in pride and utter adoration, ‘my god you’re anything but scary, my darling you are simply Devine.’ You add sincerely and that was enough for Ben to press his lips to yours despite the cut, licking at your lower lip to deepen the kiss as you happily complied, melting into him as he held you protectively in his arms where nothing could bring you harm.

[bebethsas]

It is a sweaty night in July, in 2023.

It is 4:32 in the morning.

Despite the sticky heat outside, the AC in my house pumps chilly air through my vents, to be blown through the room by my standing fan, chilling me enough to wrap myself in a blanket.

I am sitting criss-cross style on my bed, both hands pressed to my mouth, breathing shallow and probably needlessly noisy (I wouldn't know; I'm wearing my noise-cancelling headphones).

I'm lightly damp with sweat and my heart is hammering in my chest, but I don't dare move my eyes from my laptop's screen as I slowly scroll, line by line, down chapter 16, in order to stop myself from reading ahead.

I'm all but holding my breath as my imagination paints the entire scene in stark detail, from Chrissy's braided pigtails to the combo of blood-and-vomit coating the bottom half of Eddie's face to the slumped form of fabric-and-annoying-flesh that is the unconscious (and possibly concussed) form of Jason.

...It is actually 5:21 PM in a moderately-temperatured late afternoon/ evening in May, 2024, but every time I listen to this song, it's not.

Every time I listen to it, I'm shot back through time to the first time I read chapter 16, shaking, sweating, tears starting to bead in my eyes, reliving all the emotions I originally felt at that time.

Chrissy and Eddie’s Infinite Mixtape fans will get this

[princesssae]

{But You Like Her Better}

[Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader]

In Which -> It’s the 3rd of December, so why do you see Megumi handing his sweater over to Hana Kurusu?

Word Count -> 2.4k

Authors Note -> Ever since she said “that” to Megumi, I started disliking her. But today is the 3rd of December, and it’s the PERFECT time to write this. This fic is based on Heather, by Conan Gray so I suggest listening to this song before reading! This is not apart of the Kid!Megumi series!

Warnings -> THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER THE FINAL BATTLE AGAINST SUKUNA!!!! Spoilers if you haven’t read the chapters!!! ANGSTTT, fluff at the end.

It’s cold today. You shiver and walk down the empty hall. Maybe you should ask Maki to train with you today. After all, you need to get warm. Sitting in the building with no heat is killing you. Why hasn’t anyone changed the thermostat temperature yet?

You turn around the hallway to go to the exit and there you see Megumi. What’s he doing on this side of the building? He’s usually never here. Usually, he’s always in his dorm room or out with Itadori. That brings you to your next point. Where's Yuji at? They’re usually attached at the hip after the incident. But Yuji isn't there. It's someone else.

It's blonde hair. Short, shiny, blonde hair. And there you see it. You see Megumi handing his sweater over to Kurusu Hana. She’s pretty. Prettier than you. Her eyes are as bright as the blue sky. Maybe he’s mesmerized by them. Maybe that's why he’s holding eye contact with her for so long.

“Do I hear wedding bells?” she exclaims, with her hands over her mouth. She acts like a middle school girl squealing because her crush just confessed. Maybe that’s what just happened. From here, you can tell that her cheeks are pink.

Your heart stings. This is something you definitely did not need to witness. You turn away from the scene and walk away to go to your dorm room.

She’s an angel. Literally and figuratively. Maybe that's why he likes her. He likes girls that are pretty like her. Did he know that it was the third of December?

The scene in your head, no matter how many times you replay it again and again, he was gazing into her eyes. He’s in love, isn’t he? And it's not with you, it's with her.

The next morning, you sit in the dorm living room, eating breakfast. You realize you forgot to get a drink and while you were about to get up, Hana is suddenly next to you, handing you your favorite drink. She smiles once you accept the drink. She’s so shiny.

��Here,” she says.

“Thanks,” you respond with, still in shock that she knows your favorite drink.

“Yuji told me that it’s your favorite drink,” she explains. She’s already on a first name basis with him? It took you months to be able to get comfortable with saying his first name. Maybe he likes her better, too.

“Oh, well thank you anyways,” you say and take a sip of the drink. She’s so nice.

When she walks away, you notice the choice of clothing that she’s wearing today. It’s a sweater. Megumi’s sweater, to be exact. There’s a pang in your heart but that’s okay. He wants her. It’s his choice anyway. It’s not like you ever had a chance with him.

Later that night, the group is watching a movie in the living room but you turned in, telling the group that you didn’t feel good. Maki and Nobara tagged along with you anyways, saying that they didn't wanna see Hana all over Megumi.

Having a girls night was needed. Silly face masks being used, matching pajamas being worn, and even hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows were made from the kitchen.

They know about your tiny (not really tiny) crush on Megumi. You’ve had a crush on him for so, very long. You met Megumi when he was in middle school, roughing up the bullies that ever crossed his way. Being in the same class, he knew you were getting picked on.

But for what reason? You'll never find out. It's not like you were a loner. In fact, you had a nice friend group, good grades and a good social life. Maybe they were jealous of your friends. Who knows?

Sitting on your bed, you come back to your senses and realize that Nobara and Maki are still in your room. You wait for their arguing to end to start your own story about yesterday's incident. When you get enough courage to tell them what happened yesterday, Nobara gets furious.

“Are you serious? Why did he do this?!” she exclaims out of frustration. “And yesterday out of all days? Be serious,” Nobara scoffs and crosses her arms.

She knows that Megumi doesn’t have a crush on Hana. He just feels indebted to her for saving his life. But she knows that he shouldn't have taken it that far.

Maki nods in agreement. “Yeah, I just don't think that he has the hots for her, you know?” she states, stretching her arms.

Speak of the Devil. Your phone dings and it's a message from someone. Megumi, to be exact. You pick up the phone and show your friends the notification from your home screen. When you open the message, you hear Nobara groaning in the background saying something along the lines of “boys and their obliviousness”.

Megumi <3: Are you okay? Yuji told me that you said that you didn't feel well.

Sent at 8:30 pm

You: Yeah! I'm okay. Nobara and Maki are with me.

Sent at 8:31 pm

Megumi <3: Oh okay. Just wondering why you weren't here tonight.

Sent at 8:31 pm

And that's the end of the conversation. Not like you expected anything out of it anyways. Hana’s probably on the couch, cozying up next to him. He probably has his arm around her shoulder. They probably kiss when nobody's looking. Megumi would never kiss you. She’d probably get hurt if she found out that Megumi was talking to someone when she’s right next to him.

Maybe you should change his contact name. He’s taken already, isn’t he? It wouldn’t be proper to crush on someone while they're talking to someone else. You'll do it later.

You turn off your phone and join the conversation Nobara is wildly explaining, about somebody stealing some shopping bags? You don't know, but you know that you enjoy your time with them.

A week later, all the students are at a ramen booth eating their worries away. Shoko says that it's her treat, as long as you get her a pack of cigarettes while yall are out. You're not legal enough to do it, but maybe you'll pay someone to get it for you.

At the end of your meal, when you're about to go up and pay with Shoko’s card, you're tapped on the shoulder by someone. You turn around and you're faced by someone from your middle school.

“Hey, how are you? I feel like it's been so long since we've seen each other,” your guy friend says. He was introduced to your friend group a little later than when you joined, but nevertheless, you enjoyed each other's company.

“Good, I'm doing good. How are you?” you question back.

“Good, thanks. I see a lot of new faces from your new high school. Oh, and there's Megumi. Hey Megumi, how are you doing man?” he asks. Megumi, seated from across the table, nods his head in encouragement and responds with a short answer.

Your guy friend reverts his attention back to you and the rest of the conversation goes smoothly.

When he says goodbye to you, he gives you his phone number and tells you to let him know when you're free. He wants to hang out with you, and maybe get the gang back together.

On the way back home, Nobara gets all excited. “Did you see the way he was looking at her, Maki?! He’s soooo interested,” she tells you, with her arms waving in the air ecstatically.

“Yes, yes, I saw,” Maki responds. It's vague, but you can tell she’s excited by the twinkle in her eye.

The group of guys, which include Yuji, Inumaki, Panda, Yuta and Megumi walk behind yall by a couple of steps. They’re engrossed in their own conversation, but you see Megumi’s eyes flicker towards yours before he pulls away with a frown.

What's up with him? You wonder. Maybe it's because Hana isn't here. She said that she was busy and couldn't show up tonight. It's not like you cared. But oh well, it's not your problem anymore.

It’s 9:27 pm at night when you get another message. You sort of hope that it's your friend that you recently connected with. But all your hope diminishes when you realize who it is.

Megumi <3: Come to the kitchen.

Sent at 9:27 pm

It's all he sends and you wonder if it was for someone else instead. You contemplate on going, but it's just been so awkward between the two of yall lately. So no, you decide not to go and to sleep instead. Maybe you're finally getting over your silly crush. Maki and Nobara would be proud.

There's a knock at your door. You look over at your clock and it's 3:32 am. Who is up this late at night? Another knock. Are you serious? Sleep is needed right now. You get up and open the door, fully prepared to yell at the person who was disturbing your sleep. But, it's Yuji.

He sees the look of annoyance on your face and debates on whether he should continue his speech or not. He takes the risk anyway.

“I need you to go to the living room,” he states.

“And why is that?” you ask, still obviously annoyed.

“Because! I was watching this horror movie and something moved, I swear. I ran and everyone else would yell at me! Except for you, of course,” he explains hastily. “I just wanna turn off the TV because I don't wanna hear things in my sleep and it's actually the TV noise,” he continues.

You feel bad. He’s had a living curse live inside of him and he's scared of a movie. But not any curse, the King of Curses. Maybe he has PTSD. Why would he even be watching a horror movie this late at night anyways? He doesn't like movies like that.

You give in. You tell him to get to bed while you turn off the TV. He smiles and hugs you tight. He wishes you a good night and that he’s sorry for interrupting your sleep. You grin at him in return and walk towards the living room, where the movie is playing.

When you enter the room, you don’t see a movie playing. The lights are also on. Did Yuji just lie to you? Now, you're furious. Not only did he lie to you, he woke you up at the Devil's hour just for a stupid prank.

You turn around and are about to head back to Yuji's room to give him a piece of your mind, but then you see Megumi. He’s holding two cups of hot chocolate. Tiny marshmallows are floating on top of them.

“Can we talk, please?’ He asks. He sees your shocked face. Then he sees it turns into a contemplative face. Why are you avoiding him? That hurts so much.

After a few seconds, you reply with “Why not? It would be a waste of a hot chocolate,” deciding to talk. His shoulders relax, glad that you said yes.

When you both sit on the couch, he starts the conversation. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he points out.

“Well yeah, it's awkward and I don't want anything to happen between you and Hana if she sees me together with you,” you state. You're being considerate. You wouldn't like it either if a girl kept on hanging around your boyfriend.

“Nothing happening with me and Hana,” he states.

“But you gave her your sweater,” you explain.

“I don't like her. I was just being nice. It's what Gojo would've wanted. He would've wanted me to treat everyone nicer, especially if they risked their life to save me,” he states again. What he says next is appalling.

“I don't like her, I like you,” and suddenly, Megumi can't look you in the eyes anymore. His cheeks are getting rosy and his face is turned away. You're in awe. When has he shown any interest in you? He’s always been distant and quiet around you.

“I'm not even half as pretty as she is,” you try again. Maybe this is a prank, or even better, a dream.

He looks at you again. And this is all you need to know to know that this is all real. One look in his eyes and you're enchanted. He’s also mesmerized. He likes looking into your eyes.

“You’re prettier than her. You care so much for everyone around you and I like that about you. Ever since we were in middle school, I’ve always wondered what it was like to have you as a friend. But now since I’ve felt that, I wanna know what it's like to be yours,” he finishes. His whole face is slightly pink now. Even the tips of his ears are pink.

“Okay,” you say. “Okay, let's do this, then,” you state again with more confidence in your answer.

Megumi finally exhales on that. His shoulders relax again and he's able to smile. He never smiled when Hana was around. That should’ve been a dead give away that he didn't like her.

For the next hour, you and Megumi chat. You finish the hot chocolate and laugh when he gets a milk mustache.

When you finally say good night to each other, he walks you to your dorm room and tells you that he can't wait to see you later.

Getting back in bed, you check your phone on your nightstand. It has two messages and it's from Nobara.

Nobaka: Tell Yuji to shut up, I can hear him

Sent at 3:32 am

Nobaka: DID I JUST HEAR MEGUMI’S VOICE!?!!? THIS LATE AT NIGHT?!?! YOU BETTER TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED

Sent at 4:35 am

Then you get a message from Megumi.

Megumi <3: Sleep well. And please block that guy from the ramen shop.

Sent at 4:37 am

You smile and set your phone back down on the table. Maybe December 11th isn't so bad after all to start dating Megumi Fushiguro.

Please do not copy, translate, or alter my work without my permission!

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Dual

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x Lucius Verus x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Marcus and his soldier return from battle. You take care of them before they take care of you. Warnings: ALL PORN NO PLOT. SMUT, MMF threesome, soft dom marcus, subby lucius, double penetration, 69 (duuuudes), fingering, anal fingering, unprotected p in v, anal sex, creampie, anal creampie, pussy and ass eating, mutual dick sucking, lots of praise kink, oil, bathing, a tub that can fit three people, ignore how dirty the water would be, pretend it’s magical water that heals so they can fuck, when you go to the dick store and get the BOGO deal Words: 4,400.

A/N: Well. I've gone and written another threesome fic. Read their prior adventure here. This is the first time I’ve stepped into dude on dude stuff sooo I hope I did it justice. I told myself to kinda take a step back from posting so much but your girl just can’t help writing filth while sitting on her patio with her headphones in. Life in America a month before an election is stressful AF so I escape with dicks. Thank you to @ohheypedrito for her 20 texts after she read it and @magpiepills for her encouragement. Please know this is just pure filth.

municipium: town | domus: home | subligaculum: underwear 

Trēs Masterlist Masterlist

Word spread through the small municipum, General Acacius was victorious in battle. You wonder if they will return to your domus— Marcus and his blue-eyed soldier. You dream about them, remembering the heat of their bodies pressed against you, the strength of their arms wrapped around you as you drifted off to sleep between them. But, by the morning they were gone. The only sign of them being there was your dress laying on the floor and the chair Marcus had sat in remained in the same spot he had left it.

—-

“Angel,” a gruff name calls out for you as heavy footsteps enter your domus.

Marcus.

You turn the corner and spot him, battle weary and tired looking. His face is streaked with crimson and soot. Lucius stands behind, his blue eyes are set deep in exhaustion.

Your heart races when you see them. Relief and desire bursting through your body. You rush over to Marcus, your hands reaching up to touch his dirty face.

“You’re back,” you whisper, feeling the rough texture of dirt and dried blood against his skin.

He grunts, his large hands reaching for your waist, pulling you against the metal of his appliques that now press into your skin.

He breathes in your scent while you smell the remnants of metallic blood and smoke on him.

You look to Lucius, extending your hand to him.

“Come,” you beckon. He moves slowly, limping, his muscular body taut with tension. You pull him close, sandwiching yourself between the two men.

“You both need tending. Let me take care of you.”

—-

The water from the fire warms the pool of water in the tub. The water ripples as you pour a small container of olive oil smelling of juniper into the bath. Sprigs of lavender float delicately on the surface.

Lucius dutifully helps Marcus undress. The strong general grimacing as he stretches his arms out to remove his armor. You watch them, working in silent cooperation with each other. Lucius’s hands move deftly, undoing each strap and buckle, doing everything he can to help his general.

As Marcus unwraps his subligaculum, all of his golden skin is revealed to you. He’s now peppered with fresh cuts and bruises, signs of the brutal battle he has just survived.

He steps into the bath, groaning as he settles into the warm water. He sinks down, the water lapping at his broad chest, his brown eyes close as he allows himself to relax. You kneel beside the tub, grabbing a cloth and dipping it into the water.

“Let me,” you murmur, gently wiping the grime and signs of battle from his handsome face, the tension leaves it as you wash him.

Lucius stands to the side, still fully clothed, awaiting instruction from his general. You glance up at him. “You too,” you say. “There’s room for both of you.”

He hesitates. His blue eyes look to his general for permission.

Marcus opens his eyes and nods. “Go ahead soldier.”

Lucius sheds his armor and garments, the flickering light of the lamp highlights every well-defined muscle of his toned body. He stands naked and glorious, his cock stands throbbing in between his powerful thighs, obviously turned on by the sight in front of him.

His moan is low and quiet when he sits down, across the bath from Marcus. His body, like Marcus’s is marred by fresh cuts and bruises.

You continue to wash Marcus, your hands running across the wide breadth of his shoulders, kneading the tense muscles. He lets out a low rumble, Lucius adjusts in the tub, his bright blue eyes turning darker as he watches you move your hands down to wash Marcus’s broad chest.

The water clings to his skin, droplets collecting on the light smattering of hair across his chest. Lucius’s eyes watch your every movement, his nostrils flaring as his breath quickens when you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his general’s shoulder, now clean and fragrant from the bath oil.

“Angel,” Marcus sighs. His eyes flutter open as he turns his head and captures your lips between his.

You part your lips, accepting his tongue into your mouth. A moan breathes out against his mouth when his calloused hand cups your cheek, a stream of water trails down your neck. He growls low in his throat when you nip his plush bottom lip, before soothing it with your tongue. You can feel yourself growing wet, aching for more of his touch, knowing that Lucius is just across the bath from you watching.

The cloth trails farther down, gliding across his torso and the plush of his stomach before dipping down to caress his thick thighs. Marcus hisses when you brush the soft fabric across his half-hard cock.

Lucius shifts again, a quiet whimper escapes his lips. You and Marcus turn your attention to him, your eyes locking with his. His chest heaves up and down against the surface of the water.

“Come here,” you beckon. “Let me take care of you too.”

Lucius glances at Marcus, silently asking permission again. His general nods. The water sloshes against his body as Lucius moves towards you.

You shift, the cloth moving down Marcus’s legs and onto Lucius's thighs as he kneels between Marcus's open legs.

He shivers as you move the cloth up his muscular body to his well-defined shoulders bathing him with the same care and attention you gave Marcus.

“That’s it Angel. Don’t neglect my brave soldier.” Marcus reaches over and begins untying the knot of your dress, his wet hand rubbing up and down the smooth skin of your back. “He fought valiantly, protected me in battle, he deserves this, don’t you soldier?”

“Y-yes Master,” Lucius gasps as your dress falls from your chest and you lean forward. The washcloth runs across his handsome, chiseled chest, his blue eyes looking into your eyes the whole time.

“Now, Angel, join us,” Marcus instructs, grabbing your hand to pull you forward. Your dress falls off your body as you crawl into the water and lay your back against Marcus’s chest. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close. Lucius’s hands fist at his side as he still kneels, now between both yours and Marcus’s legs.

Marcus's hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, causing you to arch into his touch with a soft moan. You feel his cock hardening against your lower back.

"Touch her, soldier," Marcus commands gruffly.

Lucius’s hand tremble slightly as he reaches towards you, his palms gliding up your thighs. You spread your legs wider, inviting his touch.

Marcus’s lips brush against your ear. “That’s it, Angel. Show him how much you want him.”

You moan. The solid heat of the general behind you and his soldier’s hesitant hands exploring your curves lights a fire inside you. You recall what it felt like to be held in Marcus’s hands as Lucius’s tongue explored your cunt.

Lucius leans in, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips before licking his way down to press open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

“Good soldier,” Marcus praises, one hand leaving your breast to tangle in Lucius’s dark hair and guiding him lower.

Lucius take your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as his hand cups your other breast. Marcus’s other hand trails down your stomach to between your thighs, dipping his hand in between your folds.

“So wet for us already, aren’t you Angel?” he growls, his thick finger circling your clit. His hand stays wrapped in Lucius’s hair yanking his head over to pay attention to your other breast.

Your hands reach up, wrapping one around the base of Lucius’s hard cock, the other forming around his smooth balls. He whimpers against your nipple, biting and sucking harder as you move across his length.

“She feels good, doesn’t she soldier?” Marcus asks against your neck before gently nibbling your skin.

Lucius grunts in agreement, too busy licking and sucking your nipple to say a word. Marcus pulls against his hair, lifting his head up. “Answer me soldier.”

A wave of want crashes through your body at his firmness, a moan escapes your mouth.

Lucius blinks up, staring at Marcus. “Yes Master, y-yes. She feels amazing.”

Marcus's powerful chuckle rumbles against your back. "Good. Now show her how grateful you are.”

Lucius nods eagerly as his hands roam down your body and dip below the water, his fingers replacing Marcus's at your core. He circles your clit slowly before sliding two fingers inside you.

"Oh," you moan, arching your back against Marcus's broad chest. His cock throbs against you as Lucius pumps his fingers in and out.

"That's it, soldier. Make her feel good," Marcus growls, his hands pinching and rolling your nipples as his soldier works between your thighs.

The water sloshes around you as Lucius shifts closer, his muscles pressing against yours. His lips find your neck, sucking and nipping as his fingers curl inside you.

"More," you whimper, overwhelmed by the touch of both men.

Marcus's hand slides down to join Lucius's, his thick finger rubbing tight circles around your clit as Lucius continues to pump in and out of you.

You’re surrounded by their heat and strength, your body left writhing and overwhelmed by their touch and attention.

“That's it, Angel," Marcus rumbles in your ear. "You took care of us, now let us let us take care of you."

Lucius latches onto your breast again, sucking hard as his fingers curl and hit that perfect spot inside you. You cry out, your hips bucking against their hands.

"She's close," Marcus says gruffly. "Let’s make her cum, soldier."

Lucius pumps you harder, Marcus rubs your clit firmer, the duality of their attention pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm splashes through you, much like the water does in the tub as you shudder between the two strong men. Your hands grip Lucius’s firm shoulders, slipping under the wetness of his skin.

“Lift her soldier, move her to her bedroom,” Marcus instructs. “I have plans for both of you.”

Lucius gently gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he steps out of the tub.

Marcus rises, water cascades off of his body. The curls of his wet hair clings to his forehead and streams down his face and chest. Water hits the floor, dripping onto the tile as he steps out.

Lucius walks you into your bedroom. The cool night air on your wet skin makes you shiver, you press yourself closer to Lucius’s warm skin.

Marcus’ heavy footsteps follow closely behind, you look over Lucius’ shoulders at him. He gazes forward powerfully, as if he’s headed into battle.

The oil lamp casts an orange glow across your bedroom. Marcus moves to the middle of your room, his large body looms over yours and Lucius’ body.

He looks down at you, cradled in the arms of Lucius. His hand reaches to caress his soldier’s cheek, his thumb tracing over his lips.

“Do you want my soldier, Angel?”

You nod, lost in the darkness of his brown eyes.

“Both of you, on your knees,” he commands.

Lucius carefully lowers you to the floor, before kneeling beside you. Your eyes both gaze up at Marcus, waiting for his next order. Water drops still follow the curves and planes of his body. His cock stands hard and glistening.

"Show me how grateful you are," Marcus says, running both of his hands through yours and Lucius's damp hair. "Both of you."

You lean forward, running your tongue along the underside of Marcus's thick shaft. Lucius mirrors your actions on the other side, his blue eyes flicking up to watch his general's reaction.

Marcus groans, his fingers tightening in your hair as you and Lucius worship his cock with your tongues. You swirl your tongue around the head while Lucius licks and sucks at the base, your mouths working in tandem to please him.

"Good," Marcus rumbles, his hips rocking slightly. "Such eager mouths."

You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck. Lucius's lips brush against yours as he moves to lick and nibble at Marcus's heavy balls. The general's breathing grows heavier, his powerful thighs tensing under your hands.

"Enough," he grunts, gently pulling you both back. "On the bed. I want to watch you both.”

You both gasp for air as you scramble to the bed. Lucius’ back hits the softness of the mattress as your body hovers over his. His blue eyes are dark under his thick, furrowed brows as he looks up at you. He reaches up, running his hands along your neck down to your breasts touching you with something akin to reverie.

Marcus walks over to the bed, his body casts a shadow over you as he stands holding a carafe full of oil. “Stay still,” he commands, his voice low and gravelly.

You and Lucius follow his direction, your bodies pressed together, skin still damp from the bath. Marcus tilts the vial and a thin stream of oil cascades down, landing first on Lucius’s broad chest. The oil pools in the dips and valleys of his muscles before trickling down his sides.

Marcus moves the vial, pouring a line of oil down your spine. You shiver at the cool sensation, goosebumps rising on your skin. The oil drips down the curve of your ass, some of it running between your cheeks and mixing with your own wetness.

"Rub it in," Marcus orders, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you both.

You begin to move your hands over Lucius's chest, spreading the oil across his skin.

Lucius's hands glide up your sides, spreading the oil across your back. His calloused palms knead your muscles as you grind against him, your slick bodies sliding together. You lean down to capture his lips in a deep kiss, moaning as his hands cup your ass.

Marcus's low growl sends a shiver through you both. "That's it," he says, his voice husky. "Show me how much you want each other."

You roll your hips, feeling Lucius's hard cock slide against your wet folds. He groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your flesh.

Marcus reaches down, his large hand wrapping around Lucius's hard cock already slick from rubbing against your wet pussy. He pours the oil, letting it drip down the soldier's thick shaft. Marcus's hand glides up and down. Lucius moans at the sensation, his hips bucking up involuntarily.

"Turn around, Angel," Marcus commands as he sits on the edge of the bed. "I want to see you pleasure each other."

You obey, shifting and turning until his mouth is aligned with your aching cunt, your mouth positioned just above his cock, leaking with precum.

You run your tongue along the length of him before taking him into your mouth. He shudders underneath you, his hips jerking up slightly. His hands reach up to grasp your thighs, spreading them wider and pulling your cunt down to his mouth. His nose taps against your sensitive skin as he swipes his tongue against your clit, making you moan around his cock. His tongue devours your wet heat. He sucks your clit between his lips, flicking it with his tongue.

“Beautiful,” Marcus’s deep voice rumbles beside you. He gathers your hair in his hands maneuvering you up and down his soldier’s shaft.

“Stretch her out for me soldier,” Marcus orders. “Fuck her with your fingers.”

Lucius slides two fingers into your heat as he continues lapping at your clit. His fingers pump you, scissoring them to give you the delicious stretch you welcome.

Marcus’s hands tighten in your hair, guiding you faster up Lucius’ hard cock. “That’s it Angel, take him deep,” he growls. Your throat relaxes, taking Lucius all the way down to his base. He whimpers against your cunt, his hips jerking.

“Good girl,” Marcus praises. “Now soldier, add another finger. Stretch her nice and wide for me.”

Lucius obeys, slipping a third finger inside you. The stretch burns deliciously as he pumps them in and out. His tongue circles your clit relentlessly, pleasure spreading through your body.

Marcus lets go of your hair, running his hand down your back and around the curve of your ass.

“Lick her little asshole soldier,” Marcus instructs as he massages the puckered bud of it. “Get it wet for me.”

His tongue moves up your cunt to your asshole, licking and laving before he spits across it. Marcus hums an approving noise as he sticks his thumb in his soldier’s mouth and wets it.

Marcus’ thumb, slick with Lucius’s saliva, circles your tight entrance. You whimper and moan around Lucius’s cock as he slowly pushes the pad of his thumb inside. It’s so intense, a new sensation you’ve never felt, but your body yields to the pressure.

“Relax Angel,” Marcus murmurs, his free hand soothingly stroking down your spine. “Let me in.”

You breathe deeply around Lucius’s cock as Marcus works his thumb deeper. The fullness between his thumb and Lucius pumping his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt sends sparks throughout your body, lighting you from within. Lucius’s tongue laps eagerly at your clit as Marcus begins to slide his thumb in and out of your ass. Your thighs begin to tremble, your body quivering as you struggle to hold yourself up.

“That’s it,” Marcus growls approvingly. “Open up for me. You’re doing so well. Isn’t she doing good, soldier?”

“Y-yes,” Lucius grunts against your cunt.

Your orgasm is right there, right at the cliff ready to jump.

“I think she’s ready,” Marcus says, pulling his thumb out. “Up, Angel.”

Your body tightens. You whimper as Lucius’s mouth and fingers leave your aching cunt. Marcus helps you sit up, pulling you against his broad, warm chest. His hard cock pressing insistently against your lower back.

Lucius lays spread out on the bed, his hard cock standing at attention, twitching with need.

Marcus snakes a hand up your chest, spreading his hand against your neck and pulling you closer. "Now Angel, I want you to ride my brave soldier, I believe he’s earned it. And while you take his cock, I’m going to take your sweet ass," he growls in your ear.

A shiver runs through you at his words. You nod eagerly, lust coursing through your whole body. You’ve never had anyone there before, and Marcus’s cock is quite intimidating, but you welcome the promise of feeling so full of these two brave soldiers.

Marcus guides your trembling body to straddle Lucius. He grips his soldier’s thick shaft, positioning it at your entrance before you slowly sink down. You both moan as he fills you completely.

"That's it," Marcus praises. "Take him nice and deep."

You rock your hips against him, adjusting to the stretch of Lucius inside you. He grips your waist, guiding you as you ride him. Marcus tips you to lean forward, your hands brace on Lucius’s strong chest as you feel Marcus position himself behind you.

“Relax my angel,” Marcus says, his large hands kneading the globes of your ass. More oil is poured on your ass. His thick finger circles your asshole, before he pushes it inside, stretching you for him further.

Your body tenses slightly, Lucius reaches up to cup your face, his blue eyes locked on yours. “It’s okay,” he whispers, thumb stroking your cheek. “Just breathe.”

Marcus moves a second finger in, scissoring them to open you up more for him. Your hips jerk, grinding down on Lucius as Marcus slowly moves his fingers inside you.

"Good girl," Marcus rumbles. "You're taking it so well."

You pant and whimper out into the cool night air, your body burning hot from feeling so full, and Marcus hasn’t even fucked your ass yet.

Lucius still stares into your eyes, his movements gentle and caring, softly telling you you’re doing so well and you feel so good.

Finally, Marcus withdraws his fingers. You hear the sound of him slicking his cock with more oil and pumping himself. You feel the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance, it feels so much larger than his fingers.

“Breathe, Angel,” he whispers.

You inhale deeply, steeling yourself as Marcus slowly pushes inside. Ohh, the stretch. It feels like so much, bordering on pain. Your head drops, Lucius presses soft kisses to your lip.

“I know. Relax,” he whispers. “Let him in.”

You exhale slowly, deflating your lungs, allowing your body to relax and accept him. Marcus slides in deeper with a long, low groan.

“So tight,” he grunts. “Perfect.”

You moan, the fullness overwhelming you.

Marcus's thick cock stretches you wide as Lucius throbs within your cunt.

Marcus stills, allowing you to adjust even more for him. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady. “That’s it, Angel. You’re taking us so well,” he praises.

Lucius tenderly kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours as Marcus begins to move, slowly and pulling out before gently pushing back in.

Your body feels alight, burning with desire for the two men currently fucking both of your holes.

“Move, soldier,” Marcus commands.

“Yes Master,” Lucius grunts against your lips, rocking his hips up into you as Marcus pulls back. The two men set a steady rhythm, one sliding in as the other pulls out. You gasp and moan, drunk on their cocks as you’re caught between their strong bodies.

“Don’t s-stop,” you whimper and cry, your fingers digging into Lucius’s smooth chest.

The sound of skin slapping against skin and deep groans fills the room, soundtracking the two men’s movements inside you.

Marcus’s hips snap against you harder. “Such a good girl,” he grits. “Taking both our cocks so well.”

Lucius matches his general’s movements, thrusting into you harder. The fullness is overwhelming, pleasure radiating across every nerve in your body.

Marcus’s hand snakes around to rub tight circles on your clit, your body begins to tremble. “Cum for us Angel. Let us feel you. Make your pussy cum all over my soldier’s cock.”

Your orgasm crashes through you in waves, your body clenching around both men as you cry out in ecstasy.

"That's it," Marcus growls. "Milk our cocks."

Lucius moans beneath you, his hips jerking erratically as your cunt pulses around him. "M-master, I'm close," he whimpers.

"Hold on, soldier," Marcus orders. "Not until I say."

Marcus's thrusts become more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he nears his release. His deep grunts fill the room as he drives into you harder.

"Fuck," he groans. "I'm close. Soldier, cum with me."

Lucius whimpers beneath you, his hips snapping up frantically. "Yes, Master," he pants.

With only a few more powerful thrusts, Marcus buries himself deep inside you with a loud roar. You feel the hot splash of his release filling you as he pulses within your tight channel.

Lucius cries out, his cock throbbing as he spills inside your cunt. The dual sensations of both men cumming inside you triggers another orgasm, your body clenching around them as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Marcus holds you steady as aftershocks course through all three of you. Slowly, he eases out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss. He gathers you into his arms, lifting you off Lucius's softening cock and cradling you against his broad chest.

“Shh, Angel,” he murmurs, holding your shaking and overwhelmed shell of a body. Your back molding to his front. “You did so good.” He looks over at his soldier, catching his breath, still laid out on the bed. “You did too, Soldier.” He spreads your legs wide. “Now, clean her up.”

Lucius groans, sitting up and crawling across the bed to settle between your legs.

Lucius's eyes flicker up to meet yours as he lowers his mouth to your sensitive flesh. You whimper and squirm in Marcus's strong arms as Lucius's tongue laps gently at your swollen folds, cleaning away the mixture of your combined releases.

"That's it, soldier," Marcus rumbles approvingly. "Taste how good she is."

His mouth moves lower, licking against your asshole with gentle care.

Marcus's large hands caress your body as Lucius works between your thighs. He kneads your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers as his lips brush against your ear.

"You were perfect, Angel," he murmurs. "Taking both of us so well. Such a good girl for your soldiers."

Your hips rock slightly, seeking more of Lucius's tongue.

“Greedy girl, aren’t you?” Marcus chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back.

He pinches your nipples, making you gasp. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you.”

Lucius’ tongue dives deeper inside you, to lap up every last drop of cum. His large nose bumps against your sensitive clit, sending little sparks of pleasure through your body.

“That’s it soldier. Make her cum again on your tongue.” Marcus encourages before he kisses and licks against your neck. He holds you firmly against him, keeping your legs open wide for Lucius.

Lucius sucks your clit between his lips, flicking it rapidly with his tongue. The dual sensations of his mouth on your core and Marcus's hands on your breasts push you over the edge once more. You cry out, your body arching and shuddering as another orgasm washes over you.

Marcus holds you in his strong arms through it, praising you softly, in between open mouth kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

Lucius gently licks up your release before pulling away from your overworked core. His face glistening with your release.

Marcus gently lowers you onto the bed, your body trembling from the intensity of the night. He lays down beside you, pulling you close against his broad chest. Lucius crawls up to your other side, hesitating for a moment before Marcus nods his approval. The young soldier curls up against your back, sandwiching you between their warm, strong bodies.

The room is quiet, save for the heavy breathing of the three of you as you all come down from your orgasms.

“You did so good for us Angel,” Marcus proudly tells you as his fingers lazily trail up and down your arm. “Didn’t she, soldier?”

“Yes Master,” Lucien responds, nuzzling against the nape of your neck. “So good.” 

[xomakara]

Tension and Desires

SUMMARY |  You and Yunho are friends who are oblivious to each other's feelings. Despite the playful animosity between you two, a strong sexual tension simmers beneath the surface. After a night of flirting and drinking, you finally give in to your desires…

PAIRINGS |  Yunho x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  obliviousfriend!Yunho, obliviousfriend!Reader, smut, oblivious friends to lovers, non-idol au, jealousy, boneheads/idiots in love

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, protected and unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), marking (hickies), shower sex, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving/m. giving), dirty talk, praise kink, creampies

LENGTH |  8,466 words

TAGLIST | —

NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I originally had a different title for this one but I changed it since it didn't really make sense for this fic LOL. Thank you @kpop---scenarios and @anyamaris for beta reading this! I'm so glad you both like it! I hope everyone else likes it haha. Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚

You knew Yunho was trouble the second you met him. That cocky grin, the way he always seemed to be one step ahead of you, and the undeniable spark in his eyes whenever you were near. You couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered whenever he was around, but you also couldn't stand his arrogance. It was a constant push and pull, a battle of wits and wills, a dance of attraction and repulsion. You were enemies, yes, but there was an unspoken tension between you, a simmering heat that threatened to consume you both.

The neon lights blurred as you stepped into the bustling club, a wave of laughter and music washing over you. Your friends all decided it would be a good idea to celebrate your last day of freedom before you started the full-time job of keeping up with law school and you were too drunk on the possibilities for tonight to question it. As long as you played it safe, you were going to have a great last night as a college girl.

Shimmies and shapes began to appear as the music buzzed, your friends pulling you and waving for attention from across the room. Mingi's arm slung casually over your shoulder, a playful grin on his face as he led you through the crowd. Wooyoung was already on the dance floor, a whirlwind of energy, while San and Yeosang held court at a table, drinks in hand and smiles on their faces. The night was young, and the possibilities were endless.

The party was in full swing, bodies swaying to the pulsing music, laughter echoing through the room. You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Hongjoong, a sly grin on his face. 

"Here," he said, extending a glass filled with a shimmering amber liquid. "This'll get you in the mood." 

You hesitated, eyeing the drink suspiciously. 

"What is it?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. Hongjoong chuckled, his eyes twinkling. 

"Just a little something to loosen you up," he replied, giving you a wink before walking away to join Yeosang and San at the table. 

Yunho's eyes sparkled with mischief as he walked up to you. "Looks like Hongjoong was trying to get you plastered."

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "I'm just trying to figure out what the fuck this is."

"Do you want to find out?" He leaned closer, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils and sending goosebumps prickling down your spine. "Don't be shy. I know you."

You glanced down at the drink and back at him, fighting the urge to smile.

"I might be curious. But what's in it for you?" you asked. Yunho smirked, taking a step closer so that his chest was mere inches away. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, feel his gaze traveling over your face. His eyes lingered on your lips and he smiled again, looking like he was enjoying himself.

"Maybe I just like making trouble," he whispered. He plucked the glass from your hand, bringing it to his lips and downing the drink in one smooth movement. His tongue darted out to lick the residual amber from his lips before he placed the empty glass down on the counter behind him. He leaned closer to you, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke. "I could tell you but then I'd have to kiss you. And you wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Can you two stop flirting and get your asses over here?!" Wooyung called out as he joined the rest of the gang at the table. The lights pulsed to the rhythmic beat of the music and the temperature of the room seemed to rise several degrees.

"I, for one, have no problem with you making out," Seonghwa teased, causing Hongjoong and Jongho to laugh. "As a matter of fact, I think you two should just go ahead and kiss."

"You must be fucking crazy if you think I'm going to kiss him," you retorted with a huff. Hongjoong rolled his eyes and looked away as Jongho smothered a grin with his hand. Yeosang and San were thoroughly amused, chuckling and throwing a wink here or there.

"If you're too chicken to make a move, maybe he should just find someone else who will kiss him," Mingi shrugged, his gaze drifting to the crowd dancing and all the pretty girls that were bouncing and shaking.

"Oh? Do you have someone in mind, Mingi?" Wooyung jokes, looking past him to the other side of the bar. A sly smile slipped across Mingi's lips as he pointed at someone a few tables away from their own. "Assuming she says yes."

"Any girl that turns down Yunho is insane," Mingi huffed, giving you a pointed look.

"And I should care why?" You snorted as you looked from Yunho's handsome smirk to the girl Mingi had chosen. She was certainly pretty, wearing a flowy white blouse and tight black jeans, her red lipstick the perfect complement to her striking features. You watched as she glanced over at Yunho, giggling behind her hand. “I don’t care if he flirts with other girls.”

“Uh huh,” Jongho raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you say.”

"Have fun watching the show then," Yunho grinned, standing up and dusting imaginary lint from his jacket.

"You'll definitely know where I am," you retorted, not caring at all if he was only flirting for the hell of it. "Maybe I'll meet someone cute enough that I'll forget all about you and kiss them instead."

"Like who? Our friends?" he quipped, an eyebrow arching high on his forehead. "We all know you only have eyes for me."

"Ugh!" You rolled your eyes and downed another drink. "Fuck off!"

As you watched Yunho saunter across the club towards the pretty girl Mingi had singled out, something within you twisted sharply. It took everything inside you not to storm across the floor and yank her away from him. But you didn't even want Yunho... did you? The alcohol you'd consumed must have been having more of an effect on you than usual.

"He won't do it," Hongjoong laughed, slamming his empty glass down onto the table. Jongho sat beside him, an amused smirk dancing on his lips.

"He's only ever had eyes for you, Y/N," Yeosang chimed in with a drunken grin. "Never any other girl but you."

"You all need to get your eyes checked," you hissed. But the sinking sensation in your gut said something entirely different.

The pair leaned together, whispering back and forth, flirting and giggling, their eyes never straying far from each other. Jealousy and curiosity surged through you as you watched. Your pulse raced with an irrational need to reach out and pull him back, to declare you were his and not allow the unknown girl to lay a single finger on him. 

You needed another drink.

Slipping away from your friends and their silly assumptions, you slid between dancing patrons and dodged drunken strangers until you made it to the bar. An attractive bartender in a form fitting uniform stepped up and you placed an order. He looked you over, nodding and winking appreciatively before stepping away to make your order. A familiar presence pressed against your side. Turning, you spotted San and smiled, greeting him. His arm encircled your waist as he pulled you to him, to talk in your ear over the loud thump of the bass.

"You okay?" He asked, his gaze following yours to watch Yunho as he flirted with the pretty girl. "He won't kiss her."

"Why would I care?" You blurted, refusing to look back at Yunho's tempting smirk as it bloomed on the girl's flushed cheeks. "I don't care about him, not at all."

"You can pretend all you want," he smiled at you foundly. "But Yunho is different when he's with you. He doesn't look at anyone like he looks at you."

The bartender returned, shooting you another flirty grin, before placing a row of shots lined up on the table before you. Plucking a bill from your back pocket, you paid the handsome guy and looked back over at Yunho. You hated to admit it but San was right. The second he glanced back at you, the girl and the whole damn bar seemed to disappear. Only you were in his line of vision.

Grabbing a shot, you slammed it back, enjoying the warmth as it coated your throat. And then another. And another, until every nerve in your body burned deliciously. A thrill rippled through you. Shooting Yunho a challenge, you watched as his brow furrowed slightly, as though contemplating a challenge. Then his smile turned devious and he motioned to the girl to come closer.

Fuck. You grabbed one more shot, not caring that the music had changed to a more energetic song. Slamming the glass onto the table, you marched towards the pair, who had taken residence on the couch against the wall, tucked into the far back corner of the place.

The crowd moved with the beat and bodies shook and ground into each other as you pressed through, your only goal being Yunho and what you might do. Punch him in the face, maybe. Or kiss that obnoxious grin right off his full mouth. Maybe a mix of both, since you weren't sure which emotion was stronger - hatred or desire.

His hands caressed the girl's neck, cradling her face. He whispered something into her ear and she let out a loud laugh. Nausea and desire struck you hard. Without slowing down or stopping to think, you latched onto his arm, yanking him up, and glaring hard into his pretty face.

"I'm sorry but I'm stealing my friend back," you stated. The girl glared at you, about to speak, but you yanked again. This time, he came willingly, stumbling alongside as he was pulled through the throng of bodies.

"Not enjoying the view anymore?" Yunho mused. When you didn't respond he yanked, grabbing you around the waist. You lost balance, letting out a surprised squeak, but he caught you, spinning and pushing your back to the wall. His arms trapped you, pressing along your sides as he caged you in. Leaning down, he whispered into your ear, his breath hot. "Or did you think it was going somewhere?"

You couldn't suppress the shudder that rolled down your spine as his low, suggestive tone caressed you, lighting every nerve ending aflame. His hand cupped the side of your cheek, his touch warm and demanding.

"Why?" you gasped out, swallowing the fear and frustration that crawled up your throat. "Why does she get all that and not me?"

"You want me too?" he quipped, his gaze dragging over your face and settling on your eyes. "Are you sure, Y/N, or are you drunk?"

You had never felt more sure of anything in your entire life. Staring deeply into his eyes, your hands fisted the fabric of his jacket, and you lifted yourself up onto your tiptoes, drawing your face closer to him, pausing an inch away from his mouth, waiting.

"Stop me now if I'm making a huge mistake," you whispered, hoping his mouth would connect to yours.

A grin, a flash of pearly whites, and the lightest of laughs were the only things you got in response. No warning and no stopping, you found your lips smashed against his, warm and full. His tongue ran over the seam of your mouth, teasing a moan. Your eyes slid shut as your senses were overpowered, hands desperately grabbing whatever you could.

Your head was swimming with thoughts of Yunho and only Yunho, as his fingers ran through your hair and pulled your body close. Yunho made sure that there wasn't a centimeter between you both, kissing and touching and nibbling and grinding his body against yours, and your arms curled around him like you never wanted him to move away. And in some way you really didn't—you never wanted this moment to end.

As if hearing this thought, Yunho pulled back, keeping your hips pressed together with one hand but putting distance between the rest of your bodies, keeping his hands away from your waist even though it had just been groping at you moments before. You were panting hard and your cheeks were flushed red, and you felt like your body was burning up with arousal and embarrassment and guilt and desire. Yunho was staring down at you, face as bright red as yours probably was, panting and out of breath and so sexy. Your eyes darted down, to the clear bulge in his slacks, then darted back up again, not knowing how Yunho would take you just blatantly staring. Yunho leaned in close so his forehead was against yours, bringing up his hands to cradle your face in them gently.

"Get a fucking room," you heard one of your friends say from somewhere behind you, but you didn't care because right now it was just you and Yunho, so close and yet still too far. He looked down at your mouth, his cheeks blushing brighter pink, and you pucker your lips a little just because you were a tease, and he ran his thumb over your lower lip.

Okay you were drunk. Very drunk.

"Sooo..." you breathed out, trying to stand tall and look Yunho in the eyes. He smiled that dumb toothy grin, which caused the wrinkles that you found so cute and sexy to show, and tilted his head slightly.

"Sooo..." He responded, his voice deeper than usual. There was a long pause where you both just looked at each other, lost in your thoughts and his gaze.

"Yunho, just take Y/N home, will ya?" Hongjoong said, groaning while passing by and clapping him on the shoulder. "Fuck the alcohol out of your system or something. You both have been looking at each other the whole evening! We get it, you want to go fuck! Go!"

With his final word, Hongjoong gave Yunho a little shove in your direction, and as if in slow motion your gazes met and it was like time had stopped for you. Before you knew it, his hand was pressed against your back, the other taking a hold of your hand, and he was leading you off and out the bar and into the backseat of a taxi.

When the car pulled away from the curb, you had to snap back to reality to tell the driver your address, and then Yunho grabbed you by the chin to tilt your head back toward him. When you saw the lust in his eyes, you gasped softly, your stomach immediately erupting into butterflies and a wet feeling appearing down below. 

"Yunho..." you breathed out shakily, a hint of a whine in your tone, and your lips parted, showing that pretty tongue to him once more. Yunho smirked a bit, but then moved forward and bit on your tongue softly. His lips were soft, but demanding, and he guided you so he could restrain your wrists to your lap, so when he kissed you it was hot and full of heat. You pressed up close into his chest, and Yunho slowly released his grip to hold onto your jaw, the kiss starting to move slower and more sensually. You slid a hand up his chest, pressing under his jacket to feel him. Yunho is muscular and lean; tall with broad shoulders and a muscular back. His ass is to die for, and his thighs and calves are so deliciously thick, and all you want to do is rub your hands over him and suck on his skin.

Finally the taxi slowed to a stop, pulling up to your apartment. You both stumbled out of the car, you paying the man while Yunho held the car door open for you. Then you were stumbling up the steps and into the lobby of the building. You didn't let Yunho go and Yunho didn't let you go, and then finally, finally, finally the apartment door closed behind the both of you and Yunho pinned you to the back of the door, grabbing your thighs and pressing between them.

The kisses were hard and fast, his tongue in your mouth exploring and licking at your teeth, tongue and lips. You grabbed the lapel of his jacket with one hand, the other diving into his hair and massaging his scalp, while walking backwards towards your bedroom. As you entered through the door you shoved Yunho's jacket off his broad, smooth shoulders, feeling up the lean muscle.

You found yourself falling backwards onto your bed, but that was okay because that was exactly where you wanted to be right then. You slid back onto your elbows while Yunho crawled up the length of your legs, his body a delicious line of lean muscle that you wanted to have all to yourself.

"God, I could fuck you so good..." Yunho mumbled as he leaned forward, capturing your lips in another kiss and you mewled needily into his mouth, grinding your hips up into his. "Gonna fuck you so good until the only name you can remember is mine."

"Fuck," you whined, head tossed to the side to bare your throat to him.

Yunho's hand trailed up your bare thigh, pushing your skirt up to pool at your hips. He stopped to look down at you, your hands pushing his shirt up and running over his torso. "No panties and your pussy shaven?" he said slowly with a soft moan of your name. "Fuck...you are going to ruin me tonight, aren't you baby?"

"Just get naked, Jeong," you groaned, your legs parting of their own accord. He chuckled in return and sat back on his heels to strip out of his clothes.

You know that tomorrow things would be back to the way they were—you and Yunho sniping at each other whenever given the opportunity, making mean and bitchy comments to each other when in front of everyone, all the while with an intense sexual attraction and deep feelings. But tonight...tonight was a free-for-all, where the air between you both is charged with drunken passion and sexual frustration. You always secretly wanted to fuck each others brains out but would never admit it to anybody (no matter how obvious it was to your friends). Tonight, you wouldn't regret anything. Tonight, it was just you and Yunho, and his perfect mouth on your thighs.

"Fuck," you moaned as his teeth sank into your thigh, giving a harsh suck so that his mark was left. "Guess I won't be wearing skirts and shorts anytime soon..." You didn't really mean that because god did you want everyone to see the marks he left on you.

"Guess not," Yunho growled back as he left a few more hickeys along the inside of your thighs, enjoying how you squirmed under him and moaned his name. His hands trailed up your body under your top, his long fingers touching everywhere and finding your breasts. "No bra either? God Y/N, you planned on this happening."

"Maybe I did," you murmured back, opening your eyes to look down at your body and lock gazes with him. "Maybe I wanted you. Maybe I always have."

"Fuck," came the breathy whine before he was attacking your lips, and your shirt was being pulled over your head. With your clothes practically discarded in an instant, Yunho attacked your bare torso, kissing and licking and sucking his way down. He lavished your breasts with attention, swirling the pert nub of your nipples between his lips and letting it go with a small pop, moving to the other when he deemed it had enough attention. When he let this nipple free, a long stream of spit connected his tongue to the sensitive nub, and you watched the drool fall onto your skin with an aroused shiver.

"I thought you hated me," Yunho began in between licks along your lower stomach. "That I hated you."

"Never," you moaned in response, curling one hand into his hair. "You're just so damn infuriating sometimes."

"So are you," was all Yunho mumbled before he attached his mouth to your cunt. His tongue swiped across your outer folds first, flattening out against the length, then ran his tongue up and down the slit, dipping just barely past the entrance to your core. The little jolts and tremors coursing through your body, combined with your choked moans and high pitched whines were absolute perfection to his ears, and Yunho buried his face as deep as he could. It was intoxicating, the taste of your pussy, sweet and slick with your arousal, and he practically salivated into it like a starving man. Your whole body was flush and warm against his mouth, and he savored the taste of you on his tongue as he ate you like a fucking buffet.

And honestly Yunho was eating you better than anybody had ever before. His tongue was flicking against you, nose pressing right into the spot that made you absolutely go fucking crazy. You squirmed and mewled loudly, fingers tangled in his soft fluffy hair, and you let your legs curl up and around his wide and firm shoulders, bucking your hips up against his face.

"God, please," you whined, voice tapering off into a soft moan at the end as Yunho ate your sopping pussy like there's no tomorrow. You had forgotten what pleasure even felt like until then. His long fingers circled your wet pussy hole, pushing their way past your folds to massage against the taut muscle with every dip of his mouth. Your legs curled tightly around his neck, not choking, but trapping Yunho right where he was in place. 

"Yes! God, Yunho, yes!" Your back arched, eyes closed and a low whine in your throat, your body quickly coming to the point of no return. You ground your hips forward, rutting against his mouth with fervent enthusiasm, but you were pulled from that moment of pure bliss when he slipped a long finger into you and pumped the digit back and forth. Yunho let his gaze travel over your body, over your soft form and watch the way the curves moved when he shifted or pressed in certain spots.

His name slipped through your lips in a whisper, his fingers pausing mid thrust. Your hand gripped his forearm as your whole body tightened, your pussy quivering around his finger. A little trickle of liquid seeped past his finger and onto the sheets under you, your insides trembling as you came from Yunho's fingers and mouth. The man kept moving his hand through the aftershocks, allowing the moment of bliss to be drawn out as long as possible, watching how you continued to gasp and whimper as you came.

"There you go," he whispered encouragingly, his eyes still roaming up and down the length of your naked figure. "Mm, such a beautiful thing, cumming just from the press of my lips and tongue." He smiled and leaned back down to pepper your belly with small kisses, his free hand roaming over the tops of your thighs to cup your bottom in a small squeeze.

"Yunho, I need you, please," you whined, batting your eyes as you looked down your naked chest to where the tall man was laid in the vee of your thighs. "Please?"

Yunho hesitated, still for a moment before looking up from between your thighs to where you laid propped up on your elbows. "Do you have any condoms?" he asked, his thumb running gently back and forth over the delicate skin of your lower tummy.

Your stomach flipped slightly from the intimate contact, a smile crossing over your face at his care. You turned, fumbled for the nightstand and pulled it out, dropping a wrapped package right next to him, earning a little smile from Yunho. The latex was pulled over Yunho's considerable girth, the latex slipping easily down his long shaft, and he spread his body between your open thighs once the little package had been tossed away.

"God, we should have done this earlier," Yunho whispered against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, giving the area a gentle nibble, then pressed his tip to your wet slit.

Your whole body tensed, nerves beginning to tighten again at the feeling of his dick near your sopping pussy. And when Yunho was finally settled in the hilt, filling you to the brim, you let out a squeak at how absolutely large he was, the stretch and burn from the stretch making you even more drenched than before.

And when he pulled out, you felt so empty, before Yunho was pushing right back into you, filling you all over again, his breath hitching just the slightest bit at the way you sucked him in.

Your mouth opened wide in a soundless gasp, as your heart pounded loudly and wildly, a whine escaping when Yunho grinded his hips down and slowly, rubbed up and against all of your walls and nerve endings and you knew he felt good, so good.

"C'mon pretty girl," Yunho cooed as your breaths and moans started to pick up, speeding up the pace, moving from a gentle slow drag of the hips to deep, quick pounding thrusts.

"More," you breathed, reaching out to grab his hand. You needed something to cling to; something to focus on and feel, so your hand would lock onto Yunho's forearm as his cock fucked you deeper, faster. "D-don't stop," you pleaded in a low whimper. "Don't stop fucking me...please."

The pace became even more erratic and punishing, as the both of you got closer and closer to release. His large hand slipped down to palm your breast, a jolt going through your body as his thick fingers kneaded into the sensitive flesh. Every press was followed with his hips pumping harder, working against each of your muscles as his length slid in and out. His hand trailed down further to rub at the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, his hand slipping with how soaked you were.

"So close…” you moaned.

Yunho picked up his pace again, slapping his balls against your plump ass everytime he sank inside of you. Your cries got higher in pitch and your back arched upwards, fingers gripping his forearms again.

"C'mon Y/N," Yunho encouraged again, panting from above you. His length pounded in and out, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum. Fucking cum."

You squeezed around him tightly, his pace and force not ceasing in any manner, and your hips twitched a bit, getting closer and closer. You practically sobbed as your climax grew closer and closer, almost painful and too sensitive.

And finally, finally the release. Your eyes shut tightly and your hips stuttered. Your back arched, almost lifting you completely off the bed, and your cries were muffled by Yunho's tongue forcing its way into your mouth. And you gushed all over Yunho, pussy pulsing rapidly as you felt Yunho fill the condom at the same time.

Your chest is heaving and sweat is dripping down your forehead and into your eyes. Your eyes are lidded as Yunho pants quietly over you, leaning up onto his palms above your naked body. Your muscles throb and pulse from the orgasm you and him just shared, and your hands rest on Yunho's firm sides, letting him bask in his moment of pride and post orgasmic bliss.

Finally he slipped out and fell to the bed beside you, pulling the used and tied condom off, tossing it into the wastebasket, then rolled over towards you and kissed your bare shoulder gently. "Best sex I've ever had," he admits honestly.

"Same," you breathed out in agreement, snuggling into his body. You close your eyes for a moment and bask in his warmth, letting yourself have this moment of complete and utter domestic bliss with Yunho.

When tomorrow comes, and hopefully you were not suffering from a hangover, you and Yunho would talk about what this meant between the both of you. Until then, however, sleep was what you needed most and so you allowed yourself to relax. Yunho's arm wrapped itself around you to pull your body into the line of his own, your back pressed flush against his warm chest, and you and him drifted off, clinging close together.

You blinked as the blinding sun spilled through the gaps in your blinds, the warmth waking you up slowly. It had been awhile since you woke up this slowly and naturally, not because of a loud alarm. What made it better was the strong arm curled around you, and the hard abs pressed into your side.

Oh yes, Yunho had definitely fallen into bed with you last night, after that sexy taxi ride, and hot steamy sex. You never had a night so good as the night you had with Yunho. In a matter of seconds it was like a rush of memories and your face grew red at the mere thought of them. You tried shifting your hips, to no avail. Well you guess last night's activities did a number on you. Yunho probably too, and sure enough you heard a slight groan behind you.

Your stomach flipped with excitement as he started stirring from his sleep, and it was at this moment you realized that you probably looked like an utter mess. Yet, your thoughts stopped as soon as he nuzzled your neck gently and held you a little bit tighter, keeping you firmly in place. You really wanted to turn and look, to stare into his beautiful face, and soak in his handsome looks but it seemed he wasn't ready to give up on cuddles quite yet, and who were you to refuse this man some cuddling?

It was rather comforting to hear Yunho's breathing pick up to show that he was awake. "Did last night really happen?"

Yunho's morning voice was like sex, something you didn't think you'd get so aroused by but damn did it affect you. You could listen to him talk like that forever and it would never get old. 

"It did." You had no idea why, but your fingers were instantly drifting over his arm, rubbing gently against the firm muscles. His hold around you was soft but firm and strong, like you would stay with him all morning. Maybe you should have gotten up, maybe you should have suggested breakfast or something but honestly the thought of moving from the bed and losing this intimate contact sounded painful.

"We can talk later," he whispered against your skin, his morning stubble scratchy against your neck. Your back was pressed against his toned torso, your bare skin so warm and supple. "I just wanna stay here for a bit."

"Me too," you admit to him softly, shifting slightly closer as if that was even possible. His soft hair tickled your shoulder, and the little puffs of air brushing over your skin gave a soft chill of pleasure.

This felt right, all of this. As scary as that felt to admit and even consider. But for the time being, you really couldn't complain at all. You just wanted a lazy morning cuddling with a hot man that gave you the greatest night of your life last night, and would be more than happy to give you that again anytime. You would be crazy not to want to cuddle with this man in bed right now.

For now, you and Yunho could sleepily cuddle in bed, without thinking of what this meant for the two of you, because this could end so easily or maybe it will finally end up becoming something.

However, while both your brains would love to let you enjoy this quiet peaceful bliss, you heard the front door slammed shut and heard Wooyoung's voice in the hall. "YUNHO GET YOUR DICK OUT OF Y/N SO YOU BOTH CAN EAT BRUNCH AT THE DINER. IT IS HALF PAST NOON! SO SAY GOODBYE TO Y/N'S PUSSY AND HURRY UP, JEONG! TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE! OUR TAB IS ALREADY OPEN!"

"GOD, SHUT THE FUCK UP WOOYOUNG," both you and Yunho yell, turning beet red. 

You are not looking forward to a full day of teasing from everyone. You turn to Yunho, who was already getting out of your bed. "Can we talk before we head out to meet up with everyone?"

"Yeah, just a little bit, before Wooyoung makes another one of those sex jokes about my dick that are terrible and not funny," Yunho grabs his boxers and slides them on. You stare at him in amusement, seeing he didn't mind being naked, like at all. It was refreshing.

"Look, about last nightㅡ"

Yunho smiles softly at you and he sits back down on the edge of your bed. "Don't worry, it doesn't have to be anything big or anything if you don't want it to, you know. We can still be friends or enemies or whatever and still have sex if that's what you want."

"Yeah?" you ask as he puts a strand of hair behind your ear, your face burning red and your heart fluttering.

"Well, I mean, I enjoyed the fuck out of last night and I would be really happy if it wasn't a one time deal," Yunho smiles when you scoot closer and turn on your side to be able to lay on his leg and wrap your arms around his waist. He even kisses your forehead.

"Me too. Let's just see what happens, no pressure or commitment, okay? If either of," you gesture with your finger between your bodies, "are feeling weird, just say something and we’ll talk, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing," Yunho answers you, his voice almost tender, something you hadn't heard before last night. It was different. He gives you another little squeeze, letting you nestle into his warm lap.

The moment was over a little sooner than you expected.

"YUNHO! Y/N! FOR THE LAST TIME IF YOU DON'T HURRY UP I WILL COME INTO THE ROOM AND DRAG YOU OUT. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE NAKED. GET THE FUCK OUT OF THAT ROOM."

Yunho gets off the bed and puts on his t-shirt, groaning. "We're coming. God, could you just shut the fuck up?"

He shakes his head and holds out his hand to you, helping you out of the bed. His gaze flickers downwards as your legs stretch and show off the marks that he placed all along the tops of your thighs; what were supposed to be easy hickeys turned into harsh bites and small bruises that stood out against your delicate skin.

"What are you staring at, Jeong?"

"Just your pretty legs and beautiful hickeys all over them," he grins and allows you to grab some clothes.

"Shut up," you blush, knowing that not even last night and your hot makeout session would prepare you for what would come ahead now.

So much for the enemy line you and Yunho created between the two of you.

You met up with the rest of your friends at the usual diner that you and your friends always went to. It had been a good twenty minutes and no one said a word to you or Yunho. However, San looked way too satisfied and Seonghwa just kept a smug and knowing look the entire time you all had brunch.

"Sooooooo..." Mingi finally decided to talk, everyone going silent when he leaned in. "Had fun last night, Yunho?"

"They most likely did," Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows and stuffed a hashbrown in his mouth. "They were still in the bedroom when I barged into the apartment this morning."

"I'm going to change the code to my door so you can't get in, fucker," you stuck your tongue out and went back to your food. "Okay, look. I didn't mean to go home with Yunho last night. It just happened!"

Hongjoong laughed. "Uh huh, of course. It 'just happened.'"

Yunho shot you a teasing look, but then cleared his throat, grabbing all the attention. "Well, you guys wanna know what else just happened last night?"

You winced. "Yunho, don’t!"

"Y/N was definitely expecting something last night." Yunho continues anyways. "No panties and bra—"

You clasped a hand over his mouth, cheeks flushing red. "No one needs to know!"

Jongho raised his eyebrows. "Well damn. But really it's no surprise you got dicked down by Yunho."

San shook his head. "Man, now I need to find someone to hook up with. This is not fair."

Seonghwa chuckled. "Same. Yunho can't be the only one getting pussy."

"You got any female friends, Y/N?" Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows as you picked a strawberry off of his pancake and ate it. "Got any friends looking for a dick appointment? I am single."

You groaned as your other friends started looking around their table for the single friends you might have. "Ugh, okay. Can we please, PLEASE just shut up about everything that happened last night and forget about it? Okay. Whatever happened, happened. It's over."

Everyone stared at Yunho curiously when he said, "Oh no. It definitely did not happen."

Your cheeks burned. "Don't be such a dick. God."

You felt a hand rub over the marks left from his mouth against your inner thighs, a gentle smile appearing on his face. Thank god that you weren't wearing anything short because everyone would certainly catch a glance of his claim all over your soft and plush legs.

"He's your dick, huh?" Yeosang's coy voice picked up in the conversation.

"Lucky, lucky," Mingi wiggled his eyebrows.

Seonghwa started cracking up. "To think only a few hours ago you were fucking a guy you pretended to hate."

"He's growing on her," Hongjoong raised his eyebrows and met your eyes, a little mischievous smile on his face. "Admit it Y/N, you like the shit he pulls on you."

You didn't answer, opting for another strawberry to distract your mouth and brain. Yunho didn't help your case when the hand that was on your thigh, a reminder of exactly what he was capable of doing with his fingers, gripped at your soft flesh possessively.

"GOD. JUST MARRY ALREADY." Jongho groans loudly, hearing you squeak quietly.

"Have kids or something." San chortled.

The others, sans Yunho of course, start agreeing as they watch you and Yunho trade looks, catching you smile just the slightest and him gazing intently at your pretty lips. Wooyoung, tired of everyone in his immediate proximity, groaned at the ceiling.

"JUST ADMIT YOU BOTH LIKE EACH OTHER OR FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, PUT A RING ON THAT BITCH, YUNHO," Wooyoung stares at Yunho in disbelief, feeling a need to laugh hysterically. "We're all sick of watching the love-hate thing between you two."

Everyone burst into agreement.

Yunho shrugs casually. "Alright, we have our first date and we plan to get married. That satisfies you? Everyone is sick and tired of the back and forth fighting right?"

You rolled your eyes at him, reaching across the table to pat his arm softly and soothingly. "Thanks, honey. They definitely bought that."

He grinned. "I'll buy your love."

Hongjoong scoffed as everyone looked like they were gearing up to slap the two of you. "We see right through that crap. We might be crazy, but we ain't that fucked up in the head not to recognize bullshit. Now go away, you two."

All seven of them shoved the two of you together, out the door of the diner, with smiles on their faces and shouting some explicit words.

You stood with Yunho beside your car. "They're batshit insane."

"Isn't that why we love them?" He raised an eyebrow as you pretended to think about it. He laughs. "You're a pain in my ass sometimes."

"You're a pain in my ass too."

"Ha...Yunho," you mumbled his name, grasping his wet back as he held you against the tiles, mouth attaching to the marks on your neck as the steaming shower cascaded down on both of you. The tiles were icy against your back, water pelting down on you, steam heavy in the room. Yunho couldn't stop for more than a second, couldn't breathe. Everything that came out of his mouth was praise to how much you fit him so perfectly; you squeezed him like no one else could ever have, and the way he touched you made you lightheaded, unable to think of anyone else, ever. "Oh god..."

Your legs were wrapped around his hips, your toes flexing as the shower water rained down over him, his hands holding your thighs, fingertips sinking in your plush, plump skin. It has been months now, close to two or three, since Yunho and you have been sleeping together. To be completely honest, it wasn't that simple either; when it happened between the both of you it was never 'sleeping together' and everything about it was very complicated.

Sometimes, it was fucking, sometimes it was love making. Sometimes it was slow and sensual while other times were hard, fast and rough. Sometimes it was just sex where you leave each other afterwards. Other times it was staying together and sleeping curled into the sheets. Everything that had to do with what you had going on with Yunho was complicated and difficult.

"Oh my God..." His cock kept diving into you, meeting your desperate whines as your hands tightened around his strong biceps, listening to the short stuttered breath as your thighs quivered, tightening around him. Yunho swore and dropped his face into your throat, a moan pressing to your collarbone when he took another thrust. You writhed on the spot as his hand tightened at your thigh and around the curve of your back. "Yunho."

"Fuck Y/N..." Yunho moaned against your neck. “Say my name again, like that. Goddamn you look so fucking pretty with my dick inside of you. Always looks so pretty on my cock. Made for my dick." His forehead dragged against yours, nipping at your bottom lip. "Love you like this. Begging, aching, beautiful...so perfect for me..." His voice came out, strangled and raw, leaving you trembling and moaning as the sounds he pushed out of your throat, swallowing them with sloppy and heavy kisses.

The warm shower water still beat against you, trickling around your bodies and spilling over to the bathroom floor, the stall all humid. His large and massive body hovered over you, hands braced over your back and leg, fingers leaving searing patterns against you. The touches, kisses, sounds, the heat in the humid bathroom. It had you gasping his name, higher, deeper and louder.

God. How fucking had you never let this happen before? Let him bring you apart piece by piece in every way, watch him work you for hours like a canvas to his finger tips, show him every part of you that no one else has been allowed to see?

Now you had him all to yourself. Every ounce. Every inch.

And boy, were you insatiable.

"Do you hear how gorgeous you sound?" he praised hoarsely. Yunho groaned at the filthy sound of his wet, throbbing and long cock pushing its way in your pussy.

"Yes, Yunho," the look of pure satisfaction and power spread on his handsome face as you answered him with breathlessness and surrender had you clawing at his back. You squeezed his shoulders and ground your teeth. "Oh fuck, Yunho...I can't...I don't thinkㅡ"

He bucked his hips into your clenching hole harder.

"Damn Y/N," His breath brushed the shell of your ear. His lips kissed you hungrily, passionately, moving as roughly as his thrusts, slick with water. "I won't ever get tired of this, ever."

"Me neither," you mewled against his swollen lips, face flushing red as he ground into you, throwing his hips faster, harder, leaving you crying out as you clutched around him, arching into him. "Yes, oh fuck! Yes!"

The constant drag and pull on his dick sent your body and mind soaring to the heavens, making you mewl and call his name in a needy voice. It was more than a simple tug and release, more than fucking on occasion, a certain intimacy you only shared. "Y/N. I want this everyday. Just you, right here, getting fucked on my dick, falling apart on me. Over and over again."

"Me...too. Oh my god," Your lips parted with another loud, lustful cry of his name, pleasure swelling throughout your entire body. Yunho moaned a stream of explicit words, his brow furrowed and his hands shaking a little bit against your skin. The roll of his hips lost some of its rhythm, coming faster, the slap of wet skin against your thighs even louder as his heavy and thick cock abused your entrance. "More. Oh. OH, FUCK YES!"

His eyes closed as his dick pushed its way deeper into you with every shove. "So fucking close," Yunho grunts, your back and hips slapping against the wall behind you as his body pushed you against it, pinning you on his hard length. "Let go, baby, cum all over my dick."

"Yunho, fuck! Don't stop, Yunho, ohㅡ" You whine, tightening and tensing under him, "Don't stop. Fuck, I'm going toㅡ"

"Cum for me baby, that's it, cum for me," the guttural noises rolling off his tongue only spur you on further, nails digging into his back and your thighs trembling.

It takes a few more long and powerful thrusts before you find yourself yelling his name, coming on his dick hard. His rough growls of curses and your name turn breathless, hips twitching as his cock buried deep inside of you, cum shooting into you. Yunho's head drops into the curve of your shoulder.

You slump a little, finding no energy to keep your limbs taut anymore as he slips from your pussy, slowly lowering you back onto the shower floor. As Yunho catches his breath and releases the leg you were hanging onto him by, your heart still pounds so rapidly that it leaves you struggling to stand up right, slumping against his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Yunho rasped, smoothing some wet hair from the front of your flushed, warm face and pecking a gentle kiss against the corner of your mouth. You grin a little and lean into him, hands sliding against his broad and soaked chest, slick with water. "Take your time. Just try not to pass out. Not that I won't catch you, but we will probably both slip and hit our heads. Then, we both will be in the hospital."

You laugh as he turns off the water to the shower, stretching to reach over you for two towels he put on the shelf to hang, handing one to you. After wrapping the fluffy cloth around your cold, drenched body, you step closer to him, allowing him to press a kiss to your forehead. "Well, I better be careful then."

He lets out a laugh as he picks you up in his arms and wanders into his bedroom. The afternoon sunlight pours through the partially drawn curtains, washing over the bed. Yunho dumps you unceremoniously into the thick, fluffy comforter. You smile teasingly and fall onto the mess of pillows and blankets, damp towels dropping carelessly aside as you relax back into his sheets. He crawls towards you, smiling the slightest as he kisses your wet, tangled hair. "That was good, though, huh? Not gonna deny that it wasn't?"

"I don't remember. Was someone pounding me against the shower tiles like the fucking world was ending? Did I enjoy it at the very least?" You snuggled against his naked chest as he chuckled and settled into the blanket beside you. "Not gonna lie, but a girl could really get used to being taken care of by a man who fucks like he means it."

"Someone who also can't get enough of your delicious ass pussy, huh?" He grinned, sliding an arm around your waist and shifting to rest his cheek against the top of your hair, rubbing at your wet strands. You giggle and swat at his side, drawing him closer against you, tangling your bare legs. "You'll just have to take what's yours. So a daily request for your favorite big dick is not that bad."

"Daily, huh? I'm lucky," you glance at him curiously as he rubs a thumb against the smoothness of your soft skin. "But seriously, you'd actually want this to be a permanent thing between us?"

Yunho stared intently. "Do you just want it to be sex or something more? I mean, what are we even, at the moment? We do more than fuck and leave, right?"

Your hand rubbed at his skin absent minded, thumb circling a light mark left behind from you earlier. "We do more than fuck and leave, yeah… What should we call what's going on between us, really?" You pondered for a bit, sitting up a little more.

"How does..." Yunho begins, sighing softly, a small and sweet smile pulling on his face. "Getting married and having kids like the guys suggested sound?"

You grinned as his deep voice purred against you. "Nah, not ready for that step yet."

"Wanna move in?" He asked, sounding surprisingly sincere. "Become my live-in girlfriend?"

There's the briefest pause, but Yunho's gaze never falters. He watches the emotions that flicker across your face, the excitement, surprise, happiness and affection all cross your features. "Yeah? Really? Girlfriend?"

"Of course," he nods slowly, not needing a single second to think about his decision. Yunho squeezes you a little tighter, resting his chin against the top of your head and kissing it lightly. "I'm not in it for just the sex. I genuinely...I really, like you."

"Yeah...I like you too." You pushed against his bare chest. He laughed, burying his face in the crook of your throat. "Only a little bit."

"A little bit," Yunho said, his hot breath ghosting along your collarbone, pushing your head back to place kisses along your neck. "Just a little bit? What about… a lot bit, maybe?"

His large palm stroked down your shoulder, over your arm, grabbing your hand and moving it between his legs. A guttural moan leaving you both as his fingers dance around your wet slit.

"Always fucking ready, babygirl?" Yunho smirked, watching your teeth graze against your bottom lip, before sliding his length through your slick.

"Ready whenever you are."