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hauntedhokage · 1 day ago

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Anticipation

Itoshi Rin/F!Reader

rating: explicit

summary: you’re cat sitting for Rin while he’s away, the distance between you encouraging you to ask for help with more intimate matters.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: phone sex

Requested!

“Your cat is an asshole.”

Your comment makes Rin snort, a rare amused sound leaving the stoic striker.

“He likes you more than me.”

“I doubt it.”

This time it’s a thoughtful hum that leaves him, your best friend clearly considering how he would try to convince you that his cat did actually like you. But instead he tells you that the fluffy menace was only your problem for a couple more days, then you were no longer at risk of having your feet swiped at from under various pieces of furniture in his apartment.

“It’ll be nice to have you back for the mid season break,” you comment, making your way to his bedroom to get ready for bed. Time zones had been tricky for his daily check ins, his practices rubbing late had him calling and leaving voicemails while you were asleep. This was the first time in about a week that you’d actually spoken to him, and that was only because you were staying up late to get to do that.

“Yeah, save you from my asshole cat.”

“We can have a movie night or something,” you suggest, getting comfortable in his bed that has become yours while he was gone. The sheets still smelled like him despite his absence, and you weren’t going to deny how nice it was to be surrounded by his scent. “A lot of good ones streaming now.”

“That’d be fine. What are you doing right now, I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I want to talk to you,” you start, settling into the pillows while eyeing the vibrator charging on his nightstand. “Just got into bed, but I’m not tired so don’t hang up unless you have to.”

“I’ve got about an hour. Enjoying my bed?”

“A lot.” He hums at that. “Might just move in and make you take the couch.”

“We can share.”

That wasn’t a standard Rin answer; he should’ve said something along the lines of changing the locks or making you sleep on the floor. Not that you hadn’t shared a bed with him before, you were both mature adults that could do that without things faring awkward, but that was how he teased you.

But speaking of teasing, there was something more delicate on your mind and you were confident that Rin would be able to help - it would just be easier to ask if you didn’t have to look at him when you did. You’d need to be careful, tiptoeing along this line between friend and something else - something more - was a task done delicately. Otherwise the whole friendship could crumble, and Rin was not a person that you wanted to lose.

“Why are you quiet?”

“Wanted to ask you something, but I’m not sure how to ask.”

“Then just ask.”

Easy for him to say, he was great at being blunt (most of the time). This wasn’t something you were sure about, as Rin’s affection came few and far between. But you’d known about a girlfriend or two, affairs that didn’t last long but were long enough that he’d slept with them so he was your only option.

“How do you make a girl cum? Like…what’s your technique?” You feel like you’re in a furnace, your face hot as there’s a pause on the other side of the call. He probably thought you were stupid, figuring out how to cut this tie and ensure his cat was still taken care of from today on.

“Was there a sexual awakening that I missed?”

“Uh…no?” Your voice wobbles, embarrassment having taken over but you know you’re in the fire now. Rin wouldn’t drop this - he sounded too interested to be willing to. “It’s more like a me problem.”

“You need help finishing yourself off.”

“It sounds pathetic when you say it like that!” Your complaint earns a chuckle from him on the other side, and your face is warm with embarrassment. “But basically, yeah. I get so close and then it’s just…gone. Kinda silly, but it’s bugging me.”

“I can see why. Are you in my bed?”

“Yeah.”

“Bring anything with you?”

You hesitate to answer, since the implication of a positive response would be that you were masturbating in his bed while he was away. Not that it mattered, considering that you just told him something deeply personal regarding your sex life - a vibrator in his bed likely would be nothing in comparison.

“Don’t get it yet, first take your shorts off for me.”

It’s easy to follow instructions when it was Rin dishing them out. Usually the mask he wore when out playing soccer slipped, leaving a soft spoken man who just rolled with the punches for you to hang out with in your shared free time. When he maintained that control it always turned you on, the dull tenor of his voice and cold gaze sending shockwaves directly to your core that had you pushing yourself closer to him to absorb more of that energy that radiated off of him.

You’re obedient as he gives you instructions, first to wet your middle finger before sliding it between your folds. It’s only a bit embarrassing to feel just how wet you were hurt from talking to Rin - and you couldn’t even see what he was doing on the other side of the ocean. He sounds amused at the information, telling you to bring some of that wetness up to your clit.

“It’s about building anticipation,” he says, and you open your legs more as you continue to move your finger in tight circles. “Patience is key, don’t rush it.”

It was hard to be patient when you were desperate for that release that had been evading you for weeks. First it was just day by day, believing it was just a mental block or stress keeping you from cumming, but gradually became hour-by-hour that you worried you would never feel that bliss again. Patience would be near impossible when this was something you wanted more than anything else - if anything just to make sure that there wasn’t something irreversibly wrong with you.

“Relax.”

“‘M trying.”

“Not hard enough.” He was such a bastard. “I can’t get off until you do.”

Of course he’d challenge himself, placing a stipulation on his ability to help you reach that peak and actually fall off the edge and onto the other side. Typical Rin, but the labored breathing on the other end tells you something else. This wasn't just him helping you get off, this was full fledged phone sex now, the official crossing of a line previously left untouched. The question of what happens after this is better left unspoken, held back until Rin was in the same room as you and neither of you could dance around the topic. Not that he would, but you wanted to cover all bases.

“Do you need to stretch yourself out a bit or can you take your vibrator without it?”

“I should be okay without it.”

“Get it wet with your mouth, but play with it a little bit like you would if it was me.”

This had to be part of the anticipation. Playing with the toy that would be penetrating you as if trying to get it just as excited as you were. The additional prompt to treat it as if it were him you were sucking has your face hot - as if you were sitting directly in front of a fire.

“D-do you want it to be me stroking your cock?”

“As much as I’m sure you want it to be me rubbing your clit right now.” That had you humming as you brought your vibrator to your lips, setting your phone on your chest while on speaker so you could still hear him but use both your hands. “But we’ll work that out when I get back.”

You wish he could see you nod around the vibrator, since the sound you made at his statement could easily be interpreted as a sound you made at rubbing your clit. This would be so much easier if he was here, but you’d make do with what you had.

“Sounds so messy,” he teases, but you don’t care because you knew he liked it since he bothered to comment on it. “Get it nice and wet?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then push it in slowly. I want you to feel every inch of it.”

You do as he says, eyes falling shut at the feeling of the penetration and trying to picture Rin on top of you. His hair would probably fall in his face, tickling your face as it moved with his head and his thrust.

His name tumbles from your lips in a stuttered gasp, prompting his own groan that has you clenching around your toy as you continue to guide it in. He reminds you to relax and take it slow, and you take a couple deep breaths before continuing until it’s at the hilt.

“Don’t turn it on yet, fuck yourself with it for me. Move slow,” he instructs, voice heavy with his own lust. “But move your fingers slow on your clit. Feel it build a bit.”

You crave the additional stimulation from the vibration but don’t dare to defy Rin’s instructions after you’d asked him for help. He wasn’t above stopping entirely if you went against his suggestion, and for your own sake you push the thought aside as your hands move like he’d instructed.

When he tells you to turn on the toy you don’t hesitate, keeping it on the lowest setting as he’d instructed and keeping the thrusts slow.

“Takin’ it so well,” he mumbles, and you nod your agreement as your hips raise of their own accord. “Feel good?”

“Y-yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” He pauses, and you can hear the wet sound of his hand sliding along his shaft. His breathing was labored, you assumed that he was doing his best to hold off as he’d promised, the sound one of the sexiest noises you'd ever heard in your life and would happily play on loop as the soundtrack to assist in your next solo session.

“Pick up the pace a bit. Not too fast and angle it so it’s pointing upwards a bit.”

He continues to instruct you, an “oh, fuck” or “shit” breaking up his sentences on occasion but making you clench around the toy you fucked yourself with. Being part of the reason why the ever-collected Rin Itoshi was falling apart was a unique position to be in, but a position you were excited to be in. The adjusted angle has you seeing stars, the tightening of your core an indicator of an ending you hoped you achieved.

“R-Rin, I’m gonna cum.” You actually were, and you were so excited that he’d gotten you there. “Oh my god, I’m gonna-“

“Don’t hold it. Cum for me and let me hear you.”

The way you cry out when you finally tip over that edge is unrecognizable. The waves of pleasure that crash through your system have your legs shaking as your thighs clench around your hand, tears pricking at your eyes at the immense pleasure you were finally getting to experience after what felt like a lifetime. On the other end of the line you hear Rin’s stifled groans as you assume he reached his own end. He probably looked so pretty, chest heaving and hair sticking to his forehead since he’d sweat, you couldn’t wait to see it in person when he got back.

Your body relaxes back into the mattress, your vibrator turned off but still held in your pussy as you try to steady your breathing as he asks: “Feel better?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m home on Thursday, and I’ll make you cum so many times you’ll forget you ever had issues with it.”

“Threat or promise?”

“Both.”

#bllk x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #rin itoshi x y/n #rin ithoshi x you #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #bllk imagines #bllk fics #rin itoshi fics #rin itoshi imagines #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi smut #bllk smut

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lostinlovingrevery · 2 days ago

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Redamancy

Old Man Logan X F! Reader

A/N: Something short and fluffy, I'm just on an old man logan kick rn

Plot: You miss him, he misses you, he decides to do something about it.

Warnings: Fluff, a tad bit of angst (but it's just cause you guys miss each other so much <3) implications of sex but no smut!

Word Count: 1534

“I miss you”

You stood at the doorway, your arms crossed as you watched Logan sit on the edge of the bed with a groan, as he bent over to untie his shoes. He looked up at you, and you immediately felt bad when you saw the exhaustion in his eyes. You walked over, kneeling down to help him untie his shoes.

“You don’t need to do that sweetheart.” He mutters softly. You continued anyway, pulling the laces free, and pulling each shoe off, carefully setting them to the side. You stood up, and his hands went to your hips, as he looked up at you. “I’m sorry.” He says in a soft, raspy voice.

You brought your hands to his face, cupping it gently as your thumb softly stroke over his cheek and you shook your head. “No, I am. You’re tired.” You leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I know you’re working a lot so you can take care of us.”

He let out a soft sigh. Your hands reached up into his salt and pepper hair, twining into his curls, and softly scratching his scalp, making his eyes flutter shut as he tipped his head back, enjoying the small head massage you were giving him, as his hands moved circles around your hip. He let out a deep breath- almost of relief, as he leaned his head forward, forehead pressed against your chest, and you moved to wrap your arms around him.

It made your heart ache to see him so tired, so sore. When you met him, he had just started looking aged, when the adamantium poisoning was just starting to take its course in a way that his regenerative factor wasn’t able to keep up. Slowly, but surely you could see the change in him, aging his face and body, scars that never disappear. You’ve begged him to let you take over, you could get a good job and make the money needed to support the 4 of you in this little smelting factory. The man, no matter how much you loved him, was stubborn as an ox though and refused. You couldn’t understand why, when it seemed like a simple solution. He’d tell you to stop when you brought it up.

Now he’s picked up more hours as a driver, which may seem like a simple job for most, but you could see how tired it made him. Sitting in the same position for all hours of day and night, dealing with drunks and thugs, and the occasional bitch, staring at the road, maneuvering traffic filled with assholes. You’re sure Logan had better ideas of how he would spend his old age.

With him gone, you and Logan don’t get to partake in the joys of a relationship as often as you used to. He was usually wiped, unable to do anything more than come home and sleep- with coaxing from you to eat and shower. You just missed the intimacy, but you never wanted to make him feel worse about it. In the end you knew it wouldn’t matter, because he was at least coming home to you

Alive.

You gave him another kiss on the top of his head, before moving to help him undress. He allowed you without complaint- which was telling how tired he was. Normally, if you try to help him in any way, make him think he wasn’t capable of doing things himself, he gets cranky as hell and lets you hear it- usually to your amusement. Especially since he wouldn’t have any problem helping you with things you were perfectly capable of doing. If you weren’t there to make him do it, he’d fall asleep in his clothes, and shoes and with how heavy he was it was nearly impossible for you to undress him so he’d be more comfortable.

Once undressed, you climbed under the blankets into his side. He pulled you to his chest, your cheek resting where his heart beats, his hands softly scratched up and down your arm, the sound of his breathing lulling you to sleep.

He laid awake, despite how sleep called his name. He couldn’t get out of his head how sad you looked when you told him you missed him. On one hand, it warmed his heart to know you cared, that you wanted him at your side- though he couldn’t fathom why. On the other, it broke his heart. He didn’t want you to think he didn’t miss you just as much, that most of his thoughts isn’t filled with you while he was away working. He loved you, more than anything. That’s why he had to work, to keep you, and Charles, taken care of. He wasn’t sure how much his time on Earth was left. There was a time where he’d want nothing more to be able to finally disappear into the dirt, rot away and finally rest.

You though, kept him going.

He was going to make it up to you. You both were over due for a good time out in the town. His mind created a plan, something special for tomorrow, and he finally drifted to sleep, with you in his arms.

The next day went on as normal. You’d wake up first, starting to get up, only for Logan to playfully pull you back into bed by your hand. After a morning of catching up in both conversation and physical intimacy that you certainly missed, you went and made breakfast, while he checked on Charles.

The rest of the day went as normal, you took your turn taking care of Charles, and chatting with Caliban, while Logan went and worked for a bit. He told you he had some customers who requested him for a day shift - but it was a lie.

It was around 5 when you came back to the smelting plant, planning the rest of your evening- likely being spent alone again. Going into your bedroom, you noticed something on the bed. You walked away, confusion on your face as you realized it was your red dress- the strappy silk one that always drove Logan crazy. Next to it was a pair of matching pumps, and a note that says,

‘Get ready, pick you up at 6’

You picked up the note, recognizing Logan's messy scribbles and grinned, your heart fluttering at the action. He must have snuck home while you were with Charles. Did he plan something?

You quickly went and took the fastest shower you’ve ever had. Shaved, facial care, skin care, everything. You had to push through the exhaustion you felt, but Logan clearly had something nice planned for you and dammit you were going to make sure you were dolled up for him.

You pulled on something lacey for your undergarments, and then pulled on the dress, before doing your hair and makeup. You couldn’t actually remember the last time you and Logan actually went out and did something together. At least something romantic. Next, you put on some earrings, and a necklace Logan got you for an anniversary awhile back. You looked at the time,

5:46

He’s probably out there waiting for you already. He was a bit of an early bird in that sense. You grabbed a jacket, one of the more stylish ones, your bag, before quickly making your exit out of the smelting plant. You pushed open the door to the hot desert- finding Logans limo waiting there, just for you.

The driver side opened and he stepped out, wearing a classy three piece suit, his hair a bit more style than usual. His eyes met yours, and their corners crinkled as he gave you a warm smile. He walked around the limo to you, as you met him half way.

“You look gorgeous darling.” He says immediately, before holding up the bouquet of roses to you, making you gasp as you excitedly took them in your hands. His hands reached to rest on your hips as he moved to softly kiss your cheek. You beamed up at him.

“Lo, you didn’t have to do all this-” You say, “I don’t want you to think-”

“I missed you too.” He cuts you off, leaning into you, his nose brushing against yours. “I got reservations at your favorite restaurant.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Really?” You asked, he nodded. “Aren’t you tired? I don’t want you to push yourself for me- you need to rest.” You say in concern.

“I know I get tired darling, but I could never get tired of you.” He says, bring a hand to tip your chin up to him, as he looked down at you with a fondness in his eyes. “You’re the reason I keep going.”

You felt your lip quiver a bit and swallowed back the cry that tried to escape your throat. You bit your lip, looking down at the roses he had gave you, and your smile grew on your face again. “Lets go then.” you say, grabbing his hand and both walked back to the car, a pep in your step as you both look forward to the evening Logan had planned.

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fic #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #vans daydreams #wolverine fluff #logan howlett fluff

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stellamarielu · 2 days ago

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breaking the rules

declan o’hara x female reader

summary: declan can’t stop thinking about his daughter’s best friend, and it doesn’t help when he overhears her talking about how she’s never been satisfied in the bedroom

content: nsfw, 18+, cursing, kinda pervy!declan, mentions of male masturbation, talks of female orgasms, just lots of yearning temptation and dirty scenarios, no actual sex happening here but still smutty

author’s note: writing best friend’s dad!declan is always calling my name and i’m just a girl with a dilf obsession! also this takes place after maud leaves and our man is lonely and in need of some attention

“Oh come on Taggie I’ve been waiting for weeks!” You were trying to keep your voice down but couldn’t help the way it came out in a hushed yell.

You and your best friend were sharing a throw blanket on her living room couch, sitting side by side under the warmth of the crocheted material. The television was on, the quiet hum and bright colors filled the old room of the priory but neither of you were paying any attention to it. The cheesy rom-com playing out on the tv made for the perfect background noise to your giggles and gossip. You’d been going for hours, talking about everything under the sun like two teenage girls at a slumber party. It was nearly 1 in the morning, and you were still going strong, the current topic up for discussion was her rather scandalous relationship with Rupert Campbell-Black.

That’s when Declan had finally had enough of the noise coming from downstairs. He hadn’t slept more than an hour before he was woken up by the sound of his daughter and her best friend cackling. He tried ignoring it- even placing a pillow over his head to drown out the laughter, but here he was 55 minutes later and still not sleeping. So, he drug himself out of bed and threw on an old pair of sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt as he began his descent down the stairs to put an end to your fun. Only, he was stopped just one step shy of the living room doorway when he heard his friends name.

“Is Rupert good in bed?”

He immediately recognized the voice as yours, familiar with the cheery tone that’s constantly filling the walls of his home.

“I mean he must be right? Compared to Ralphie?”

Declan didn’t like where this conversation was going. The less he knew about his daughter’s relations the better. While the topic was making him increasingly uncomfortable, he couldn’t hide his desire to know if Rupert had gone behind his back and touched her. He’s debating turning around and going back upstairs when he hears Taggie’s soft plea.

“Oh my God keep your voice down!”

She’s much quieter than you, her words merely a whisper.

“We’ve literally just kissed the one time.”

Declan feels a massive weight lifting off his shoulders as Taggie speaks. A kiss was still infuriating and worth interrogating Rupert over, but he couldn’t have handled hearing anything more than that.

“Tag. That was like two weeks ago.”

There’s your voice again. You’re trying to keep your volume down, but you’re still far louder than his daughter.

“You’re telling me nothing else has happened? God Tag, I wouldn’t be able to keep it in my pants if I were you.”

Taggie was laughing at your comment. Her giggle reminding Declan of the reason he was currently hiding outside his own living room. He was there to tell the two of you to keep the noise down, but had somehow found himself eavesdropping instead. The sudden guilt he felt as he listened to the gossip that wasn’t meant for his ears settled in and he turned on his heels to sneak back up the stairs. He was taking his first step away from your conversation when his ears began to burn at the words whispered from your lips.

“I mean he’s attractive, his body is insane, and he would literally do anything for you. Even the way he looks at you is hot. If I were you, I’d be on that in like half a second.”

“I’d be on that.” The words ring in Declan’s ears and he can’t help but picture you on top of him- straddling his waist. God he was sick, he had to stop thinking about you like that. You were Taggie’s best friend for Christ sake.

Lately every time you were around- which was nearly all the time, Declan could hardly look you in the eye. He was ashamed of his little crush on you, but as much as he tried to push it away, it always found him late at night when he was alone in bed. There was so much about you that drew him in; your witty humor, your confidence, your endearing smile, your ass when you wore that one pair of jeans he liked so much. He just couldn’t get you off his mind. Now you were sitting in his living room talking about how much you wanted to mount Rupert Campbell-Black.

“I bet he is good in bed.”

You’re speculating and he can hear Taggie giggling and telling you to shut up. He knows for a fact her face is red in embarrassment.

“I mean there’s no way he’s bad. Not with all that experience.”

You’re ignoring Taggie’s protests as you continue theorizing about Declan’s best friend’s sex life.

“He probably knows exactly what he’s doing.”

Declan can hear a rustling noise and assumes Taggie must’ve hit you with a throw pillow.

“Maybe I need to find an experienced older man of my own. I swear all these guys our age don’t know what the fuck they’re doing, I’m tired of faking orgasms.”

You were giggling but Declan could hear a hint of defeat in your words, his dick stirring in his sweats at hearing the word orgasm come out of your mouth.

“They can’t all be that bad, what about the guy from last weekend? He seemed sweet.” Taggie chimed in, causing him to come back to reality.

Last weekend? Come to think of it Declan couldn’t recall seeing you at their house like he did most Saturday nights. He remembered Taggie coming home late and mentioning the two of you had spent a few hours at bar sinister over a bottle of chardonnay, but you were nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah, sweet doesn’t account for bedroom prowess.” You were correcting your friend’s innocent remark.

“So it wasn’t good then?”

“It was fine.” You sounded rather underwhelmed as you recounted your one-night stand.

“I think I’ve just given up hope that a man can get me off.” The dissapointment in your voice was undeniable as you whispered.

“Maybe I’m just broken.” You forced a laugh attempting to bring humor back into the mix.

Declan couldn’t deny the anger he felt as you divulged your issue aloud sitting on his living room couch. Those pricks don’t deserve you. They don’t deserve to have you in their beds, getting their dicks wet at the expense of your dissatisfaction.

“That’s why you need to speed things up with Rupert and tell me all about your adventures in the bedroom so I can live vicariously through you.”

God he couldn’t bear to hear Rupert’s name in the context of his daughter’s sex life one more time. In fact, he couldn’t bear to listen to anything else regarding either one of your sex lives.

He already knew he would be worked up for weeks just thinking about the fact that you were waiting around for someone to fuck you properly.

It was going to torture him now– watching you waltzing in his front door with all that pent up frustration and knowing he could relieve you of the pressure with just the touch of his fingers. He already thought about making you come. He thought about it at least once a week with his hand wrapped around his dick. Envisioning you underneath him, chest heaving and eyes rolling back into your head with your pretty lips all pouted. He would bring himself to completion just from the mere idea of what you sounded like when you came undone. It was truly sick the way he would pump his cock until it was spilling over his fist, imagining such twisted fantasies starring his daughter’s best friend.

He had to excuse himself from the hallway before he heard anything else that would fuel his forbidden desire. Taking a small step backwards toward the stairs, the weight of Declan’s foot caused the old wood floors to creak. He paused his movement, cursing himself for making a noise that could blow his cover.

The halt of whispers and giggles coming from the living room let declan know you girls had heard the squeak from the doorway.

He tried his best to float into the room, making it look as if he had just walked down the stairs.

“Oh god sorry. Were we being loud?”

Taggie looked absolutely mortified to see her father standing before them given the last few minutes of conversation.

“It’s alright, just came down to grab some water.” He lied.

“didn’t realize you girls were in here.” Another lie.

He wanted to remain as nonchalant as possible. After overhearing all the sex talk, it was best for him not to mention you were so loud that he couldn’t sleep. The last thing he wanted was to make Taggie uncomfortable, or worse- her try to convince him that Rupert wasn’t a first-class rake at one in the morning.

“We were just gonna go to bed.” Taggie’s cheeks were pink, and her voice was quiet.

Declan let his eyes wander over to you, just for one second– no half a second. But it was enough time for him to see the oversized t-shirt that was hanging off your shoulder exposing the curve of your neck. Unlike Taggie’s embarrassed demeanor you looked much more relaxed, maybe even a little relieved to see the man awake and shirtless in the doorway. He even caught the beginning of a smirk slipping onto your lips when he averted his gaze back to his daughter.

“all good, just make sure you turn off the tv.” He was motioning to the romcom that neither of you had watched a single minute of that was now nearing it’s end. He raised his hand in a small wave as he continued to the kitchen, not letting his daughter get another word in.

He was quick getting a glass and filling it with tap water, even taking a swig and attempting to allow the cool liquid to refresh his mind from the filthy thoughts of you still swimming in his brain. Only, it didn’t help much seeing as though he caught another glimpse of you on his way back to the stairs. You and Taggie had now given up on gossiping after nearly getting caught, and settled on watching the last bit of your movie in silence. You were snuggled into the side of the couch, your head resting against one hand playing with your hair and the other toying with the collar of your shirt that was hanging so low that it let declan get a good look at the top of your chest. There was absolutely no reason for him to find you so irresistible while doing nothing out of the ordinary, but he still found his heart racing in his chest at the sight of you.

He had to force his feet up the stairs to get him away before you had a more depraved effect on him, something other than just a quickening pulse.

After getting back to his bedroom, declan tried everything to get you off his mind. He tossed and turned under his covers, chugged the rest of his water, smoked a cigarette down to the filter, read a few chapters of the book on his bedside table, but none of it stopped the images of you playing in his head- images of you in his bed, back arched while he knelt between your legs.

He was lying awake and staring at the ceiling, the only thing occupying his mind were the filthy visions of you. He was starting to think he would never sleep again and It didn’t help that the tv was still playing downstairs. The hum of some old sitcom carrying all the way upstairs making it impossible for Declan to drift off. It had been at least an hour since his little adventure downstairs and he was beginning to think the two of you would never go to sleep.

finally having had enough of the noise, he stood up out of bed on a mission to tell you to go to bed and finally get to the end of this sleepless night. He was walking straight down the dark hallway but stopped abruptly at the stairs.

You were walking up as he was walking down- the two of you bumping into one another. His hands instinctively reaching out to hold your arms, steadying you in front of him.

“Oh fuck- sorry.” The profanity slips out of your mouth at the shock of running into Declan’s hard, shirtless chest.

He can’t help but chuckle at the curse, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard you say the word fuck. Something about it turns him on– God dammit he needs to get a grip.

“I was just comin’ to tell you girls to get some sleep.” His voice is raspy and his hold on your arms is soft.

“Tag fell asleep, and I couldn’t get comfy on the little sliver of couch she left me.” You were whispering and declan could barely see you in the dark but he could hear the smile in your voice.

“I was just gonna crash in her room.” You motion to the first door at the top of the stairs that belonged to Taggie, just a few feet away from Declan’s.

“Yeah of course.” He dropped his grip on you and took a small step to the side allowing you to walk past him.

Your hand reaches for the doorknob of Taggie’s bedroom, but you stop.

“Sorry if we kept you up.”

You look over to declan who was still standing at the stairs. He’s brushing off your apology with a wave of his hand.

“You know me and my big mouth- I have a hard time keeping quiet.”

Declan has to keep his hands from clenching into fists at your words. a hard time keeping quiet God he wished he could test that out for himself. See if you could keep quiet while he fucked you nice and hard, holding your mouth shut to keep the moans from spilling out.

“How much of our conversation did you hear earlier, you know when you came down for water?” thankfully your voice pulled Declan from the obscene image of you currently playing in his head.

For some reason he didn’t feel the need to lie to you.

“Enough to know my daughter is kissing Rupert Campbell-Black.” His response is point-blank.

You let out a deep sigh. Now thanks to you and your inability to keep your voice down, Taggie’s relationship with Rupert was probably ruined.

“Are you mad at her?”

“Not so much her as him.” He sounds disappointed as his whisper carries across the hall.

“He’s a real piece of shit you know?” He makes sure to keep his voice low so the sleeping girl downstairs has no chance at hearing his words.

“I thought he was your best friend.”

You know he probably can’t see it, but you raise an eyebrow in question as you try to understand why Declan would say such a thing about someone so close to him.

“He is, which is how I know his intentions with women are never innocent.”

You went quiet.

Declan didn’t want to talk about Rupert- not right now. It was the middle of the night. He could not be faced with the moral dilemma of watching his daughter pine after his best-friend. Not while he was already faced with the equally moral issue of his daughter’s best friend being the reason he hadn’t slept all night.

And just like that, he was thinking about you again. Thinking about how your t-shirt covered your tiny little pajama shorts– so much so that they were hidden completely.

“As much as you may think older, more experienced men are better than the sleazy guys your own age, I can assure you they’re not.”

You freeze at his words. Is he referring to your earlier conversation with his daughter? The one where you were talking about guys your age “not knowing what the fuck they’re doing”. Had he heard you talking about your recent habit of faking orgasms? You almost bring your hands up to hide your face in embarrassment.

“Not men like Rupert anyway.”

Or him he thinks as declan reminds himself of his reoccurring unsavory thoughts about the younger woman standing just a few feet away.

“Right, well I’ll let tag know he’s an asshole then.” You’re speaking quickly hoping to put an end to the conversation so you can run into taggies room and escape the humiliation illuminating the hallway.

“Sorry to hear about the bloke from last weekend.” Declan’s changing the subject, keeping you from leaving.

“I hate that a clever girl like yourself is wasting so much time on foolish little boys.”

He’s taking casual steps toward you as he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Declan has no idea what he’s doing. All he knows is he doesn’t want you to open that door. He doesn’t want you to leave him standing alone in the hallway thinking about everything he wanted to do to you, wishing he could touch you– kiss you.

“Yeah well, it’s that or nothing.” You’re joking, trying to remain friendly. You can’t figure out the reason Declan is bringing up this part of you and Taggie’s exchange.

“not nothing.”

He’s close to you now, just an arm’s length away and his voice is enticing.

“I’m sure there are lots of men out there who would bend over backwards to treat you the way you deserve to be treated- to give you the things you need.”

Your jaw drops slightly at his words. he definitely heard you talking about your inability to orgasm with your recent hook-ups and now he’s directly referring to it.

You had somehow found yourself standing a foot away from your best friends dad at 2 in the morning and the sexual tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. His bare chest just within reach of your fingertips; you could feel the warmth radiating from his body and smell the mint of his toothpaste on his breath. It all felt so wrong, like you were breaking the rules.

“Well you’ll have to let me know where they’re hiding. I’ve yet to find one who knows how to treat me the way I deserve to be treated.”

You put an emphasis on the phrase he used, treat you the way you deserve to be treated aka- actually able to make you come.

He looks taken aback by your confession.

“not one?”

You’re shaking your head in response to his curiosity.

“you’ve never been with a man who’s made you come?” he’s clarifying his question, and he sounds genuinely stunned.

“Correct.” Your voice is soft as you reply and a beat of silence passes between the two of you.

“I don’t even know how we started talking about this. I should go to bed, goodnight Mr. O’Hara.”

You’re whispering quickly, flustered knowing that Declan is now privy to your shameful sex life. You’re confused why he brought it up, and you’re even more confused by his sudden flirtatious demeanor. You must be reading the situation wrong because there’s no way Declan O’Hara wants you in that way–right? It’s Taggie’s dad. Taggie’s hot dad. Shit- you need to go to bed. Maybe a few hours of sleep will help wipe this whole conversation from your memory.

Taggie’s bedroom door is creaking open as you turn the knob, but before you can take a step inside Declan’s hand is reaching for your arm. It was the second time tonight you felt his gentle touch on your bicep, and it made your face feel hot.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” His words are kind and sincere.

“You shouldn’t even be embarrassed.” His voice is just so gentle.

You turn to face him and realize how close you are, just inches away from his face.

“Those fuckin’ idiots who don’t know how to touch you properly should be embarrassed.”

it’s dark but you can make out the expression on his face– it’s serious, his eyes intently watching you.

it’s silent for a moment, both of you staring at each other in the dark. his hold on your arm loosens and he lets his hand lightly trace the length of your arm.

“You’re a beautiful girl you know.” His voice is light and airy as his fingertips tickle your skin.

“I don’t think those boys could even handle being with a woman like you.”

His touch is getting lower and lower on your arm.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe you do need to find yourself an older man.”

his hand finds the hem of your t-shirt nearly brushing the skin of your exposed thigh.

“Declan.”

You can’t tell if your murmuring his name as a warning or a plea, but the way your almost whining has you thinking it must be the latter option.

“Not Mr. O’Hara?” There’s a smile in his words.

His fingertips come in contact with your upper thigh and your breath hitches. You think about telling him to stop, reminding him how angry Taggie would be about this, but you don’t. You don’t say a single word. Instead you let out a sigh of relief desperately hoping he keeps touching you.

“Do you want me to touch you like this.”

You’re silently nodding, giving him permission to do whatever he wants to you. It feels so corrupt having his fingertips dancing at the hem of your pajama shorts, but you can’t think of anything you wanted more than to have his hand between your legs.

“Use your words love.”

Declan’s urging you to verbally consent, partially because he wants you to be sure and another part because he needs the satisfaction of hearing you beg for him.

“Yes.”

Your back is arching causing your body to push into him. He never could’ve imagined you’d feel so delicate against him. Your body was so warm, so gentle, so pleasant, so new.

“I want it, please Declan.” You’d never called him by his first name before tonight, always Mr. O’Hara.

The sound of you whimpering his name has Declan eager to hear what it would sound like to have you screaming it. He’s starting to pull the barely-there material of your shorts to the side when a distant sound has you both frozen.

It’s the unmistakable creak of someone walking up the stairs, wood squeaking underneath footsteps. In an unspoken agreement you’re both turning opposite directions and quietly turning doorknobs. He’s sneaking back into his bedroom and you’re tiptoeing into Taggie’s.

Your light feet carry you to Taggie’s bed and you’re jumping into the sheets making yourself look cozy. Her steps are heavy and her eyes are barely open as Taggie comes walking into her bedroom not long after you.

“Remind me to never fall asleep on that couch again.” She’s yawning as she crawls into bed next to you.

“So uncomfy.”

She’s settling under the covers and you’re glad the room is dark so she can’t see how wide awake you are.

“Sorry, you looked so peaceful, I didn’t wanna wake you.” You whisper back to your friend as she’s dozing off.

You just lay there next to her. There’s no way in hell you’ll be able to sleep. Not after the way her dad was just speaking to you in the hallway. The way his hands were touching you; so close to doing something neither of you could take back. You wondered what he must be thinking right now. Was he laying in bed thinking about you like you were thinking about him? Did he regret it? You sure didn’t, not one bit. In fact, all you wanted to do was sneak across the hall into Declan’s room and finish what he started.

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#declan o'hara #declan o'hara x reader #declan o’hara smut #rivals #rivals fanfiction #rivals x reader #rupert campbell black x reader #best friends dad #dilf x reader #dilf smut #declan o’hara fanfiction

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ma1dita · 1 day ago

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not your goddess

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader words: 8k holy shit this is the longest fic for this series so far summary: (established relationship (uhhhh, well…)) The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. Change in perspective is always good, but it makes you and Luke see your futures quite differently—you wonder if you’ll be together in it at all. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader) a/n: mmmyeah this is a songfic - goddess by laufey. references to waiting for godot by samuel beckett if you squint

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[ it always goes like this, could've predicted it || i'm so naïve to think you loved me for me, kissed as I ran off stage || you're too old to play this game, guess you're still growing up at thirty nineteen]

Once you open yourself up to someone and bare your soul to them in honesty, they get a choice whether they want to be with you or not. It’s as simple and as convoluted as that. Normal humans are complex as it is—but to be a demigod must mean to endure all of that and then some. Luke has been especially hard to reach lately, and trying to understand him feels like grappling wisps of smoke. You let him build his whole life around you without either of you realizing and suddenly the walls feel like they’re closing in. Though maybe he always knew that—Luke Castellan is always intentional, and always full of surprises.

“We should run away from here.”

His voice breaks through the crunching of dead leaves underfoot on your trek to the stables. It’s hard to tell if he’s joking, even harder to decipher when your eyes meet in the dim light hanging above the Dutch doors that you walk through.

The two of you move as if partners in an orchestrated dance, the steps routine and not needing instruction; you fill up the water troughs and he steps around you to grab the bag of feed while his other hand grazes your waist, beckoning you to the next task. Most days are like this now, plotted out perfectly from sunrise to sunset.

To be content means that most of it is predictable, and some might call it boring, but it comes with the inner satisfaction that what the both of you share is only yours.

It’s peaceful.

Neither of you has ever really had that—and in your own way, both of you want to hold onto it for as long as you have it. Like how comets are always predictable; the knowing doesn’t make them any less beautiful.

“Let’s go now then,” you chuckle lightly, not looking at him as you shut off the hose. Bowie, your pegasus, brays in thanks as he dunks his muzzle into the trough, splashing water at your ankles. The water is frigid, a chill crawling up your spine and when you look up, Luke’s already staring at you solemnly, almost blending in with the shadows that drape over the barn. He stands there leaning against the wooden fence with his sharp, stone-faced features carved out by moonlight.

“Baby?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you take a step towards him and he’s eerily still, holding a hand out for you. His fingers don’t shake once you intertwine them with your own and he’s so sure of himself that his resolve is like a suit of armor. What a funny thought—him needing protection from you of all people, the girl he lays bare with most nights and who knows him at his most vulnerable.

“What do you think? Do I look like I’m joking?”

Luke’s words creak like metal hinges—coming off abrasive at the sight of your resistant expression. Truthfully, he hates it when you look at him like this—like there’s something wrong about him that you’re convinced you can fix. You don’t do it on purpose, but he’d like to think that you don’t think of him as one of your little DIY projects. This is different, calculated—his plans for the both of you will map out the rest of your future.

“Are…are you planning to leave?”

Though you hate to make the comparison, he’s a lot like his father: a one-track mind with only him knowing what’s coming next. Luke just expects everyone else to keep up, and you’re left feeling like someone’s pulled the rug out from under you as he holds onto your wrists firmly in the dim light. He’s nervous, even if he doesn’t show it. You can still tell by the way his voice cracks, a melancholy sound like he’s pleading for you to understand a hidden meaning you must’ve missed in the past few months of bliss.

“We are,” he corrects, before his voice begins to falter, “I mean we can. We…we should,” he says tentatively, and your arms jerk forward with the motion as you stumble into his grasp, “Think of it, babe. We could get out of here and do something great. Make a life for ourselves.”

You squint.

He’s not even asking, and that makes it worse, you think—it’s like he’s already got one foot out the door. You’re not sure if he even considered you possibly saying no.

Are you?

Entertaining frivolous conversations that your boyfriend has with you before bed is one thing—but acting on them? The truth is that you’ve never afforded yourself a future outside of the reality that you have now. You never thought you’d have this after everything—running across the country to find your father and make this family in nowhere New York. It wasn’t a possibility that your 14-year-old self would’ve ever dreamed of.

But then it happened, and you count your lucky stars that it led you to Luke. This is your home; you built it from the ground up with him the day you both stepped into your roles and washed your hands of stupid pranks. And maybe what you’ve always dreamt of is something you already have now.

Is that a crime? To like your reality better because it’s tangible—not everyone needs to be the main character in a sweeping saga. You do have a life, and you’d like to say it’s pretty alright, all things considered.

“Luke,” you swallow, face scrunching up in the way it does when he knows you’re about to say no, “I mean what about our responsibilities? What about…”

It was cute back when you were fourteen, but he now finds that he hates the way your nose scrunches up when you disagree with something, and it always makes him feel stupid for even asking in the first place. Luke steps away, dropping your hands as he sighs gruffly, “That’s a shit excuse, you know that, babe.” Dust kicks up from under his feet and you think he looks like a child about to throw a tantrum. The pegasi whinny softly behind you, and if they could talk it would probably be something like, Oh shit. Like a flip of a switch, he’s erratic, something pent up inside of him is now uncontrolled.

“I mean what do you want me to say, Luke? You want us to leave? Just disappear and leave Annie and Grover… and my brothers? What then? We don’t have money or degrees, or anywhere to go to—”

“We could make do—I mean we’ve both done it before Trouble, and now we can be together without all this. We don’t need camp. Or the gods’ blessings, I mean what did they ever do for us?”

He’s tired, you think—because the Luke standing in front of you right now isn’t anything like the one you know. Your Luke loves your campers as much as you do; he’s the type that gives piggyback rides and teaches the little ones how to swim in Canoe Lake. He prays at every mealtime—twice as long because you don’t see the point in it, and likes to fall asleep against your chest in the twinkly lights of cabin 12.

The Luke you know would never want to run away from the home you’ve both created for yourselves. Not without a proper plan. Luke always says that he loves making plans just as much as he loves you, which must mean a lot.

You already have what you want, for now. That’s the contingency of it—for now. You just don’t see it getting better than this; finding camp meant finding yourself, and that’s what your mother always wanted for you. Having a real shot of being a family, even if your dad drives you nuts, and the twins like to fill the bathtub with root beer, and Annie constantly demanding she prove that she knows the first 500 digits of pi comes with the path you chose.

Family—it’s what you were promised.

“We’re not ready, Luke. I mean… the real world out there is a lot worse than getting a C in archery or avoiding bathroom duty. We’ve still got some growing up to do—what’s the rush?”

He’s testy now—jaw swinging the crick in his neck and he does this when he’s about to say something mean, like the words have to fight their way out of his mouth, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Luke watches you look cluelessly at him like nothing he’s saying is making sense and it’s so frustrating that it makes his head hurt. What happened to you—his free-spirited girl who would follow wherever he leads? You don’t know how crucial this all is—Luke needs to know…

He needs to know if you’ll still follow him wherever he goes, even if it’s away from everything you have here.

But maybe you both imagined growing old together quite differently then.

“You’re making it sound like I’m in over my head about this when I know you don’t like it here. Listen to what I’m trying to tell you,” he bristles, hand leaning over the wooden beam above your head, “This place is getting old. We’re getting old. I want everything with you. Can’t you see that?” It feels like he’s caging you in, and he makes it sound so simple that it makes you laugh.

“Of course I do. All I’m saying is we should think this through more. I mean…We’re demigods. I’m not saying we can’t handle it and I’m not saying no, but—”, you barely finish the sentence before Luke interrupts you again.

The difficulty with Luke is that when he wants something, he wants it with his entire being. And he never goes down without a fight—even when its with you.

“But you’re not saying yes. Then what are you saying? That you wouldn’t be happy with me?”

Rolling your eyes, you swing yourself out from under his arm and start taking off your apron because clearly, work is not on the agenda tonight. You fling it onto the hook before spinning around to look at him.

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I am happy with you. Here. Where it’s safe. Where we have beds to sleep in and food to eat and the only real reason I have to look over my shoulder is to see if my dad’s bribing your siblings to sneak him alcohol,” you say half-jokingly, and it so badly misses the mark as you see his brows furrow deeper into his forehead.

“Give me a break,” he seethes, your name rolling out of his lips like acid and he has more to say but doesn’t know if he should. But he’s already started something and you’re just waiting for him to finish it. He has a habit of doing this, rolling the words around in his mouth for dramatic effect.

This is gonna hurt.

“Oh just spit it out, Luke. Don’t whine like a baby.”

“Your dad? He’s a fucking joke. Can’t stand him half the time and I don’t know how you do,” he starts, pacing around you like a boxer in a ring. You stand still as a statue, eyes lit and tracking him in the dark as he continues, “You know I’m right. He’s just keeping you busy because now that he has you, he wants to control you. And you don’t even get a pat on the back.”

“You do not wanna go there, I can promise you that.”

“Well, I am. Because I’m tired of watching you waste your potential. You used to be so…exciting,” His arms swing around him like feathered wings and Luke shakes his head, turning away from you to look at the moon, “I need you to care about our future too, okay? Cut the shit and be a real fucking person for once and not whatever this little puppet show you put on for your dad is because it drives me crazy sometimes. All the time. I’m losing it, Trouble. Can’t you tell?”

It feels like a blow to the chest and you take a deep breath to placate your feelings in case they’re tampering with his—and you find that the anger is all his own. Your words shoot out like a lit cannon in rebuttal, “This drives you crazy? I didn’t know it was so hard on you, Luke. Poor you, picking up after me when you literally offer to help,” you scoff, stomping over to get him to look at you since he’s so intent on having this conversation, “Do you think you get granted immortality for checking off campers on your attendance log?” He can’t have thought it would be that easy, can’t have imagined you wouldn’t get defensive when things don’t go your way. Because it’s been like that for a while now, and Luke’s been falling off pace with life here. He’s not the all-star golden boy he used to be. Deep down, you know that too; he only likes it here because you do. They say with anything the first year is the hardest—and although he wouldn’t change a thing with your relationship, this took work. Loving you was supposed to be his reward, and it’s as if he doesn’t know you anymore.

He’s not sure he knows himself that well anymore either.

“Of course not! That’s exactly what I’m saying—all of this won’t help us, so why are we exhausting ourselves instead of focusing on what’s important?” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the curls to anchor himself to this argument. And now you just want to strike back, to be damned with the consequences. Real love is a mirror, and although it's your first big fight…sometimes it hurts to be seen better than how you see yourself, and it hurts less to inflict it upon someone else instead of admitting that it hurts you.

“Oh so I’m exhausting to be with, is that it?”

He rips his apron off and tosses it at you, “Yes. Is that what you want me to say? You want a bad guy, you’ll get one. I don’t know what to—” His anger has always brewed like a storm—quiet and rumbling under the surface until he’s ready to strike. It comes down all at once and you’re covered in it with no way out but through. You bat the fabric to the ground angrily.

“You wanna repeat that?”

He laughs, a mocking, snarling sound, “You know what, it makes sense now—you’re just like your father. It all tracks!”

Your jaw tightens, pushing through by giving him another chance, testing him. Daring him.

“You wanna say that again?”

The wind picks up at his feet as he spins around you so fast it almost gives you whiplash, “Don’t give me that bullshit.” He’s tired and angry, but you’ve never seen this other side of him before—this ferocity that was unleashed at the idea of you wanting something he might not. Maybe you both are too similar then, too stubborn to give in until someone breaks.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Castellan. I’m warning you. Just because your dad hates you doesn’t mean that mine does.”

He laughs.

Luke laughs like you’ve just told him you’ve put Chiron in another dress and that pigs can fly but then he looks at you… He looks at you with his chestnut brown eyes and they’re just empty, boring deep into your soul.

“What happened to you?”

It’s a weird feeling, to know someone so well that you can see the other side of them they can’t see for themselves. You haven’t got a single clue.

“I grew up. You were there, Luke. You helped me do it. I wanted to be just like you—the role model, the one that people like, and what, now that I'm not just some crazy idea in your head you’re bored?”

Your voice cracks and so does a piece of Luke’s heart. You’re too tenderhearted, too good for him, and everything about you sends shockwaves through his being. This is what he told Kronos—even if you had it in you to force the gods to kneel and listen, would you be able to make the jump? Luke blinks, tuning back into your words.

“I mean you’re not even asking. It seems like you’ve made your decision for us. What does that mean to you? Us?”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, clearing his throat. His apology feels heavier than it should, and you can’t figure out why. He won’t let you find out if he even means it.

“No, you’re not. You don’t even know what you’re sorry for, and now as soon as we’re happy, you get bored. You wanna talk about fathers, you’re just like yours too. Happy?”

The words come out almost explosive, a shot in the dark and you didn’t think you’d say it, but you did. Thoughtless, without care, until it sinks into him like a sharp blade. Luke’s face hardens and you’re not sure how long he’s been standing so far away.

“Are we?”

It’s almost lights out and you’re still here arguing with Luke, so today was not as predictable as you thought it would be. Unease grips you by the scrap of your neck like a merciless kitten, holding on for dear life. This isn’t a feeling you should associate with the love of your life.

“What did you say?”

“Like you said, we’re demigods,” he says whispering your name, “what do we do now that we’re happy? That usually means something worse is coming up ahead.” Luke scoffs, half in disbelief at his own realization, the other half in defeat, “We’re meant for more than just being happy—that…this isn’t enough. We’re meant for glory, not shoveling pegasi shit and taking care of children instead of planning for a future with our own. This shouldn’t be the end of us.”

Your lip quivers, tongue in cheek and you need to touch something, hold someone, to remind yourself that this is happening. But you don’t reach out to him because if you get too close he’ll see the tears in your eyes. Grabbing the dandy brush, you trudge over to Bowie and rake it through his hair, mumbling, “I’m happy. I’ve got you,” you swallow, turning to Luke, “I love you.”

He’s already in the doorway, swinging the bottom panel closed with his hip as he looks over his shoulder, frowning.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Bowie brays next to you and it sounds like someone blowing a raspberry when they’re tired of a situation—maybe you are going crazy and they do understand—but one thing you do know is that you can’t understand Luke right now.

The truth is that love is a bunch of horseshit, really.

[ oh, were you surprised by me when you took me home? || When the glamour wore off, reduced to skin and bone || i can't even tell who you want to know || i'm a goddess on stage, human when we're alone]

Your knees hit the dirt again, falling forward onto your hands as you dry heave. In the blink of an eye, you feel Maimer resting against the apex of your neck.

“Yield.”

Clarisse La Rue has barely broken a sweat during this spar, and yet here you are at her feet feeling like today’s breakfast will make a reappearance on the arena floor. The younger girl rolls her eyes as she pulls you up by the leather strap of your chest plate, sighing at the unnatural pallor of your skin as she flops onto a bench with your dead weight following suit as your knees buckle.

“You know, I knew you said you were bad at this, but are you even trying?” she scoffs, throwing a water bottle at you that you fumble in your hands. Winning never feels as good when the other person isn’t putting up a fight. You gulp down the icy refreshment, shutting your eyes for a moment to escape the blinding sun as you mutter, “Never been a fighter unless necessary, Risse. That’s all you.”

“Alright, enough of this.”

Your eyes wrench open as you lean back on your forearms to look at the daughter of Ares. At thirteen, she’s a force of nature on her own and unlike anyone else at camp, Clarisse would never mince her words for the sake of others’ feelings. You needed someone to tell it to you straight.

“You know everyone can tell when you and Luke fight, right? I mean it rarely happens but when it does it always feels like the world is out of balance until you both fix it.”

You groan, throwing your arm over your face and unintentionally hiding from her. That couldn’t be true—the world does not revolve around whether or not a daughter of Dionysus and a son of Hermes had their shit together.

But Camp Half-Blood does.

“You’re lying, La Rue. It’s really not that deep.”

And then she looks at you like you’re stupid, which might be her customary expression for anyone else but to you—well, she at least respects you. For now, unless you keep whining like a badly written love interest.

“Gods, woman. You were so much cooler back then, what the hell happened to you?”

“Clarisse, it isn’t that easy—-” you grumble, putting your face in your hands as you stare at the dirt. Of course, you know that everyone knows, secrets run through Camp Half-Blood like running water. It slips through your fingers easily, soaking through the ground until everyone’s stuck in the mud. Your boots sink slightly into the softening earth and Clarisse realizes you’re crying before you do.

Why the fuck are you crying?

It was a stupid argument and it probably doesn’t mean anything but for once, you don’t know what to do. It feels stupid that your body decided to cry before your brain could come to the conclusion. This all feels so stupid.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry, weirdo,” she mumbles, unsure of what to do with a crying head counselor. Her calloused hands rub small circles into your back, and she can’t help but think you need more girlfriends your age. Scooting closer to you, she says, “What I meant was that you were way cooler when you didn’t give a shit about what people think about you, much less Luke Castellan. You’re starting to sound like you’re from 10, and I swear Sil is the only tolerable person from that cabin. Stop crying, please…”

You sniff, “Ugh… This is so dumb. Just lost myself for a second.” The statement rings true, and it bothers you more than you thought it would. There is so much more to you than playing the part of the agreeable girlfriend, the caretaker, the perfect daughter, that if you stared at yourself in the mirror you might not recognize who’s staring back. So many parts to play, and so little of you left.

“I guess, what I’m trying to say is,” Clarisse sighs, “and I’m no good at this feelings shit, but I think you need to remember that you’re allowed to be someone without him…without all of this. And you owe it to yourself to find out who that is.” You look up at her with watery eyes, tucking hair behind your ear as if it’ll help you absorb her words better.

You can’t believe you’re getting sound advice from a thirteen-year-old, much less a child of Ares on matters of love.

“It’s nice to be needed,” you mumble, “my greatest honor, I think. But it might also be my downfall.”

Clarisse smiles crookedly like she’s watching you through a fresh set of eyes. There’ll be no words of this conversation once you leave the arena—the both of you have a friendship unlike most girls here at camp. Never touchy-feely, typical girl talk, but always what you need to hear.

“How terrifyingly human of you. Yuck.”

“I can’t go on like this,” you groan, slumping further into your folded-over position and she sighs, going to take a sip from her water bottle before squeezing your shoulder.

“That’s what you think.”

[ you took a star to bed, woke up with me instеad || you must have felt so damn decеived when you made up a version of me that you thought you loved || but I am not your Aphrodite ]

When you were fifteen years old and he was just a month shy of it, you had somehow convinced Luke Castellan to run away from camp with you.

This was back then. Just for a day—just for the tiniest taste of freedom.

Luke had been at camp for almost a year, and Rye Playland sounded so much cooler than food service with the nymphs—which is one of the few things he would agree with you on. The both of you had kitchen duty for two weeks after getting caught attacking each other during Capture the Flag despite being on the same team, and it ended up with you ripping the fabric off the stick and chucking it into the middle of Canoe Lake. He’s lucky you didn’t lunge for his head, but the game was forfeit, and cabin 6 didn’t talk to you two for weeks because you threw the game. Including Annie, which was a surprising feat in itself.

After that day, you swore to never do anything Luke made himself in charge of and Chiron swore you two would never be on the same team again. You could remember D’s voice that day and how it boomed through the Big House, reminiscent of his father—a crackle of fury and impalpable seriousness that had Luke shaking slack-jawed in the chairs facing the mahogany desk. He’d never been told off by a parent before, much less an Olympian.

Taking it in stride even as the god threatened to turn you both into dolphins, you mimed the conversation when your father’s back turned, copying the odd quirk in D’s brow and conjuring a mouthful of grapes for teeth. You grinned at the son of Hermes like an idiot, a singular ripe sphere shooting out to make an audible thwack against D’s red Hawaiian shirt that made Luke laugh the loudest, ugliest guffaw you’ve ever heard him let out. He choked on his spit when the god jerked his head back to face the both of you like a comic-book villain.

Honestly, he might’ve peed himself a little. Just a tiny bit.

And the god of insanity himself was at his wits’ end—which is rare for him, very few things can get him to that point. Even less so with people. Pathetic, puny, little people he can drive to madness and violent death.

But not his baby girl—you know every last nerve to step on, a lot like your mother sure, but still all him in every way it mattered. He loved it, even when he was mad at you like this. He just wasn’t good at showing it, and you knew that to some extent. Plus, you can’t take a man in a Hawaiian shirt seriously, much less a god.

So you and your self-proclaimed archnemesis (frenemy, Luke insists) find yourselves running down Farm Road before first light, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind you as you rush to catch the LIRR at a stop two towns over.

It was a small amusement park filled with different money-grabbing oddities, tooth-rotting confections, and rickety, squeaking rides that the conductors could fold into suitcases at the end of the day.

Sketchy, but so much fun. You made Luke go on all the kiddie rides with you and screamed your head off like a lunatic; he apologized to the parents of a toddler and said you had too much sugar—but that was a lie, this was all you in your natural state. Berry chapstick, wind-tousled hair, and a smile brighter than a spotlight. And your laughter, oh, your laughter shook the walls of the funhouse even after you crashed into the fifth mirror being too busy poking fun at the wonder in Luke’s eyes because it was the first time he’s genuinely done something for fun and not out of necessity. It was nice, and so were you, for once.

It was the first time you’d let your guard down for him, he thinks back—watching you toss a ball so badly off target from milk bottles set across the booth. You twisted in his grasp (he doesn’t remember getting so close, Luke still swears he was trying to help you aim) pouting at him with those pretty plum eyes and he sighed so deeply you smelled the cotton candy on his breath. For a moment you wondered if he tasted like it too—and then the worker asked if you’ll be trying again and you went, “Hmm? Maybe he’d be better at it!”

Luke rigged the shot with the snap of his finger, all the milk bottles falling to the ground with a crash and he swore on his life he’d sell out every single one of these stupid games if it gets you to bite your lip at him like that again.

There isn’t a single hint of regret that passed that entire day—you were already in trouble, so you both figured that you might as well enjoy it. By late afternoon, your legs felt like jelly and it felt less like you dragging him around the fairgrounds and more like holding onto him for support (because there’d be no other reason you’d want to hold his hand, your stomach just felt funny…that’s all!) Luke was wolfing down a funnel cake, the powdered sugar dust getting all over his shirt and he looked up to see you staring at him with a shit-eating grin.

Hand pointed in the air, Luke simply shakes his head.

“Fuck no.”

But you always had a way of convincing him to do things (Luke is a sucker susceptible to double dog dares) and the both of you are surprised he let you because sooner rather than later, you’re sat knee to knee in a tiny, screeching Ferris wheel cart that inched 100 feet into the sky. The white paint was peeling at his fingertips and the air was warm—Luke tried to focus on that instead of the fact that he was in a metal death chamber in the sky.

“Never imagined a son of Hermes would be scared of heights,” you grinned, nudging him with your foot. You’ve folded into yourself, hugging your knees as you looked at him and he thought that he might be having a heart attack at the ripe age of fourteen and three-quarters. But the pink and purple rays of the waning sun framed you so nicely that he wished he brought a camera—he had the silly photobooth strips from earlier tucked into his pocket, but you looking like that; Luke had etched it into his memory for safekeeping. Not only was he able to breathe a bit easier, but if there was a memory he could materialize from today—it’d be you grinning maniacally through the bars of the cart, pointing at the city in the distance.

“We’ve finally found something you’re not good at, golden boy,” you grinned, tilting your head to the side and inspecting him like he was a sad hamster in a glass ball.

“M’not scared of heights, I'm just scared of falling,” he reasoned, looking at the rusted floor. You were making your boots dance along to the beat of the fair music, tapping along to the cyclical rhythm. He was more scared of the lack of control he had at this moment—any of the other crazy rides, Luke had stood at the tiny gate next to the conductor holding the plush avocado he won for you, watching and hearing you scream for joy as the machines flung you into the air. The ones he did go on were relatively tamer, and by the third kiddie coaster, he realized that you probably whooped for joy just to make him feel better.

You kissed him on the cheek that day, so close to his mouth (but not close enough) when the Ferris wheel ultimately screeched to a stop. A necessary distraction, you said—but you weren’t sure for who. He tasted sugar-sweet and smelled like the late summer sun. You had never kissed a boy before, unsure if you’d even know how, or if Luke would even want to if you did.

The thought passed when you realized his fingers were clenched and white-tipped onto the guardrails and you…you’re terrible, so you started rocking back and forth, giggling until he yelled at you to stop, pulling you into his lap.

The conductor thought you two were doing something way less innocent, and you both got kicked out of Rye Playland afterward—but you got your money’s worth.

Well, you both snuck in and Luke definitely pickpocketed someone’s mom.

All in all, it was a great day.

You fell asleep on his shoulder on the way back home, the Long Island Railroad car chilly with the AC. Watching you drool, he thought he might even like traveling again if it’s for fun like this, might even hate his dad less too. Luke threw his whole dinner into the hearth that night with a bright smile on his face even after Mr. D yelled at the both of you in front of everyone at the dining pavilion. After all, the only factor in his life that’s changed in the past year, an addition, if you must— was you.

[ you took me for a fool, you stole my youth, you wanted this so much || you watched me rise then killed my light || and now you know I'm not your fucking goddess || oh, i'm no goddess when i'm alone ]

Work is work.

That’s what you’ve both been telling yourselves throughout an already rough week gone even worse, but trying to avoid your significant other is an especially difficult task when you work together.

It’s the simple truth—you can’t ignore someone you have to talk to primarily because of these two factors: 1. Capture the Flag teams need to be sorted by Thursday mornings to be ready to play on Friday afternoons, and 2. it is weird for campers to see you two not interacting with each other.

Well, it’s Friday now, and you and Luke haven’t talked since that argument in the barn.

Kind of, but the times you have didn’t count—the past few days have been both of you talking around other people; not directly to each other. Last night at dinner, Chris stared at you like one does when their parents are thinking of getting a divorce, eyes flickering between you two and his cheeseburger. Luke was sitting next to you on the bench blankly picking the tomatoes off his sandwich and you were staring glumly at your slice of pizza.

“Is there something going on between you two?”

He was one of the few brave enough to be blunt about it. You and Luke were all-consuming, like a black hole. It’s hard for others not to notice the gravitational pull, but when it’s bad…. everyone and everything gets sucked in, whether they like it or not.

“Lee was excited to hear that your cabin is teaming up with them tomorrow. It’ll be quite interesting, all of you with 7 and 9,” you said, wiping grease off the slice with a napkin. Luke’s head jerked in your direction at your words, “Dude what—Chris! I thought I signed off on working with 6? We don’t work with Apollo for a reason,” he hissed, leaning over the table towards his brother. Chris scratched the back of his neck, knowing Luke was right. Cabin 7 isn’t that good in all matters that involve stealth—the last time they worked with them, Austin was scatting under his breath and it got them ambushed by the red team. Opening his mouth to speak, you quickly interjected, “Well it’s about time to change it up—keeps things exciting, don’t you think, Chris?”

Luke sighed, redirecting his brother’s focus to him, “What do you think, man? I just think when it comes to battle strategies we should stick to what works.” Chris swallowed, raising his hand in the air; he was grappling at the edge of a cliff just trying to hold on to either of you—he looked around to see if there was a way out of this. Next to him, Ethan averted his eyes and played with his carrot sticks.

“Funny how that works for battle strategies and not other things,” you hummed around a mouthful of pizza, “Don’t you think, Chris? I just think that you never want to be predictable in these things. It makes everything boring. Or so I’ve heard,” you munched thoughtfully, daring the son of Hermes to break eye contact with you as Luke scoffed, tossing his napkin onto his plate before standing up. He walked off without a second glance, throwing everything into the hearth—plastic tray included, and stormed off toward the cabins. The rest of the table minded their business, shoveling food into their mouths. Chris choked on a french fry.

And you smirked, satisfied at the small win.

But now, almost a day later tramping through the sodden dirt of the North Woods in heavy body armor, you remind yourself that it is so very hard to prove a point to Luke Castellan. He finds you halfway through the game as you hold onto the red flag post, standing tall at the vantage point and looking like a stone grotesque protecting the area you’re surveying. By the time you notice, a blur of cobalt whizzes towards you—knocking out the three Ares kids standing guard around the perimeter. You gasp, raising a hand sending vines hurtling toward the air until you see him hanging upside down by the ankles, wrapped in green leaves and purple bunches of grapes. Luke’s headwear falls to the earth with a clang.

“I’m not here for the flag!”

You rush over, dropping the pole and sighing, “Luke…you scared me! I thought you were with Beck today.” The blood rushes to his head as he looks at you all out of focus. Seeing you the other way around gives him a new perspective on things—the epiphany almost makes him ache, but that might also be the pressure pooling in his forehead. You brush your thumb against his cheek before letting him down slowly, and all he does is look at you.

“We need to talk.”

“Like, actually this time?” you mumble, hugging yourself as you watch the vines unravel from his limbs and sink back into the ground. You’ve always been a good actress and Luke was the best liar around—this shared penchant for fabricating the truth used to make you one and the same.

It is more obvious now that actors and liars are wholly different; actors live in an imaginary world given to them, while liars strive to create it for themselves. There’s that saying—don’t hate the player, hate the game.

Luke finds that he’s starting to hate all of it.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “we can’t keep ignoring this, Trouble.” It takes a special kind of sadness to feel lonely even when you’re with someone. You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your spirit sink into the ground below you, almost resigning yourself to what will happen next. All the petty backtalk, the times you’ve crawled into bed with him already pretending to be asleep— it all comes down to this. There’s this French word that Annie had taught you a few days ago when you spent extra time snuggled up in her bunk, partially to catch up with your favorite girl and partially… to waste more time before going home to him.

Énouement—-The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future and seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

“Luke…” you start, watching him sheath Backbiter with a casual flick of his hand, “Would you go back if you could? Before…” Barely able to string your words together, he notices your lip quivering, “Did you like me more back then?”

“Baby…” he sighs, going to wrap his arms around you and you hold onto him in return at arm's length.

“I’m really trying…” you choke out, pressing your lips to hold in the onslaught of things you want to say. To understand? To apologize? The words die out on your tongue.

“I know. You’re always trying, Trouble. That might just be the saddest part.”

Wind whirls through your hair, pushing you against him for shelter as you gather your thoughts. In the silence of the woods, you wonder how many moments you’ve spent drawn to him like this for comfort. Luke’s always there for you, whether you like it or not. For better or worse—you wonder if there won’t be a lot of chances to hold and be held, and you can’t seem to let go.

“I didn’t change, okay? I’m still me. People don’t change, just like the gods don’t. I just don’t see us away from this,” you swallow, tracing a finger over his bicep to distract your burning eyes, “we can’t escape who we are Luke. Me and you. Isn’t that enough for now?”

He lets out a sigh and you know his answer; his shoulders sink low enough that your hold on him loosens ever so slightly. At this rate, you think it’d be easier if he’d just pull the trigger—maybe it would hurt less than this.

“I’ll change the gods’ minds and make them agree. They’ll know us, babe. The glory—”

Everything around you blurs as you hone in on your anger. This whole forest could go up in flames and you wouldn’t give a damn,”Oh FUCK glory! Just love me and that’s enough! Why can’t that be enough? Why can’t you stop running from me for once, Luke!” Your plea comes out like a wail and you push him away, feeling disgusted by what’s come of this conversation. You were never a beggar—the only thing left to do was kneel in the dirt and beg him not to break up with you. Before you can think of the irrational thought any further he shakes his head, almost growling, “How do you still not get it? It’s because I love you is why I can’t.”

“Listen, I love you too, babe. I just…don’t know if I like you right now.”

That’s not fair. He’s sacrificing the entire trajectory of his life and you can’t figure out if you like him? You don’t know the lengths he would go to, can’t fathom the obstacles he would conquer just to make sure that you and him have it all. And you’re not even trying to see it his way—to even imagine that he could make it possible.

Things couldn’t stay the same forever, that you could both agree on.

“You’re all talk, you know that, Trouble? You’re just mad that I want this life more than you. And you know I’d actually do what I need to do to get it. Would you?” he nudges you roughly, “Talk to me! This is your time to get it all out of your system. Say that I wouldn’t do anything for you. You know I would.” Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks; he hates watching you cry. It’s the whole reason he signed away his soul—he wants the world you live in to be a place where gods bow down to you and dry your tears, not cause them. Luke would topple Olympus in an instant if it meant you wouldn’t look at him like he’s a lost cause.

“That’s not fair, you haven’t even answered a single question I’ve asked you. It’s like you’re not even listening to me, Lu—”

“Not fair?”

Groaning, you turn away from him. The flag post you dropped earlier is long gone now—the game is still on and the world keeps spinning whether you like it or not. But you’re disinterested in all that now.

“Do you even hear yourself? To you, I’m still the girl on the Ferris wheel,” you sniff, wiping your nose with your sleeve. His hands squeeze your shoulders, begging, pleading for you to understand, “Is that a bad thing? You tell me you haven’t changed—I’m protecting her because you won’t. I’m getting her the hell out of here because I know she deserves more than this. Look around you,” he whispers your name against your neck, “We could forget all of this.”

But that’s just not who you are. Your shoulders tremble as you hold them up under the pressure. Sure you could see what he’s saying—there isn’t a single future you can imagine without Luke in it. The house, the kids…but more than that you just want to belong somewhere. And Camp Half-Blood is where you belong. With him.

“I don’t want everything, Luke. I just want you. And if you don’t want this, I need you to tell me now. Because I’m tired,” you warble, digging your nails into your palms, “ and I’m sick of this game. I feel like neither of us are winning.” You take a step back to look at him—sunlight filtering through his hair, eyes wistful and contemplative.

“Maybe we should take a break.”

And there it is. He’s already made his decision, whether he admits it or not. A horn blares overhead, followed by the sounds of cheering. You don’t know who won, and you don’t really give a shit if we’re being real right now.

“Does it even matter?”

There’s a frozen look on your face like you’ve been struck by lightning, half between a crooked smile and subtle surprise. It’s a knowing look, Luke thinks, what he can see of you through half-lidded lashes and grief. He thinks years from now, if he even makes it that far, it’ll all come back to this moment in the North Woods, and you, the girl he was in love with at nineteen.

“It’s not even worth it now I guess,” he whispers. It makes you laugh—even your laughter sounds sad now.

It seems that even breaking up with you is an inconvenience.

You sniff, wiping your face and looking around. Everyone’s gone already and Chiron will be looking for you two soon, “Then it’s not worth it. Because you say so… and we’ve got work to do.” Your watch beeps.

Dinner service starts soon, but before you both head over to the pavilion, you and Luke are expected to set up the bonfire. He nods, loosening the straps of his chestplate, just something to do with his hands, “I know.”

“I don’t want to go. I’m not ready to leave this all behind yet. I’m still needed here.” Until your coming of age ceremony. Until your heart calls you elsewhere and your family can stand on their feet.

Until then.

Somewhere, you hear Annabeth calling out to you, the melody of both of your names traveling through the trees. You and Luke turn your heads in that direction, before looking at each other once more. He licks his lips, “I know that. We should get back to it, then.” There’s no use doing this all alone, he thinks. And there’s a part of you that thinks there is no use for you when you’re alone.

“We should.”

Neither of you move.

The winter solstice is tomorrow and there is much work left for the both of you to do.

—

I don’t understand how he grows colder from the same love that warms me. I didn’t know we loved differently—him partly, less and less, and I entirely. - JNH / @shatteredjuvenileday

#luke castellan x reader #trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x dionysus!reader

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iamsebastiansstan · 21 hours ago

Text

like one of your girls - NAC x fem!reader

summary - “Finally getting a taste of this gorgeous cunt, been thinking about it,” he murmurs against her mound, looks right at her as he says, “Gonna kiss you where I’m gonna fuck you, my sweet,” before he dives right in.

wc - 6k - MINORS DNI !

warnings - lots of dirty talk as always, crying during sex, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f), creampie, aftercare 🥹

A/N - I dedicate this chapter to @hoffmansgirl because he's literally doing it rn girl like literally !!! anyways, this update was fast but I probably won't be writing much for the next few weeks, I GOTTA STUDY lmao come tell me what you thought of this, any and all feedback is appreciated <3 enjoy!

taglist - @blackynsupremacy / @lalavenderangel / @nicholaschavezbby /

PART 1

Waking up next to him is like a dream she never wants to wake up from. She’s watching him as his eyelids flutter open, his nose scrunches up, as he stretches his strong arms above his head and groans adorably while looking at her through squinted eyes.

“You been awake long?” he asks her, and she shakes her head no.

He’d spooned her last night, she remembers, they both needed that closeness without crossing too many lines, and already she’s feeling withdrawals, missing having his body heat along her back. It isn’t awkward now, but the tension can definitely be felt in the air.

“Good. When do you need to get back to New York?”

She thinks about it for a minute, heart beating fast. Is he asking to be polite or is he asking so they can make plans to see each other? She hopes to God it’s the latter.

“On Wednesday. I made plans with some friends to hang out while I’m still here.”

He hums, scratches the back of his shoulder.

“Wanna give me your number? I’d quite like to see you again.”

Trying hard to keep her screaming internal, she reaches over to the bedside table and hands him her phone, watching as his nimble fingers type in his digits before pressing the call button.

“Think my phone’s dead but the call should’ve gone through. Now we can text each other.”

She smiles warmly. “I’d like that.”

They don’t keep their eyes off each other as they get dressed, him slipping into last night’s clothes and her into some fresh ones, and she can feel the want for him pool deep in her stomach, bitter at everything they didn’t get to experience yesterday, glad about what they did get to do.

“Hey, just one second, (Y/N),” he stops her as she’s about to leave the room and she turns, looks up at him when he steps close. “I’m gonna take the advice you gave me yesterday, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re a second option, a rebound, anything like that. I enjoyed yesterday immensely.”

Her heart flutters at his consideration, but she only smiles and puts a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin softly.

“I’m not here to make your life more complicated than it needs to be, Nicholas,” she assures and means it. “I enjoyed it too, and I’d love to see you again if possible. If not, then no hard feelings. We can be honest with each other. Friends get to do that, no?”

His nod is slow, the relief basically radiating off of him as he grabs her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles before opening the door for her, following her out.

Nicholas doesn’t stay for breakfast, but he kisses Cooper’s cheek and thanks him, hugs her with a quiet promise to text her, and soon enough she’s perched on a bar stool at Cooper’s kitchen island, spooning cereal into her mouth and doing her best to dodge his suspicious looks.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says through a mouthful.

“Not looking at you like anything.”

She levels him with a look, unimpressed.

“Ask what you want to ask or shut up entirely, Coop.”

A slow smile spreads across his face, seemingly shy but his blazing eyes betray him as he asks, “Did you fuck him?”

She expected this, so she answers calmly.

“No.”

“Did you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

The question makes her stop for a moment, unsure how much she’s allowed to say.

“I think you know why. Are you mad?”

He rolls his eyes, takes her hand in his.

“No, of course not. I’d be happy for both of you. But I know that you’re both,” he shoots her a meaningful look that she expertly ignores, “in a rough place in life right now, and I’d hate to see you take it out on each other.”

She nods, understanding where he’s coming from.

“Is Nick going to get the same speech?” she asks, only half joking.

“A much stricter one, I can tell ya that!”

She laughs as she gets up along with him to clean the mess from their breakfast up before she goes to meet with her aforementioned friends, heart fluttering the entire time at the prospect of Nick messaging her.

***

She’s sitting in the park and sipping on her smoothie when she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. Tuning out her friends’ laughter for a minute, she takes it out to see that it’s from Nick, making excitement bubble up in her chest. She opens it immediately, not expecting anything, when suddenly the words make her want to choke on her own spit.

not to be too forward but I just made myself come to the thought of how tight your throat would be around me. I’ll be thinking about that for a long while.

Two seconds later:

hope you’re having a wonderful day.

Trying not to seem like the mess he’s turned her into within seconds, she does her best to fight off the mental image his message is creating in her mind and reply somewhat coherently.

You’re a fucking dickhead, do you know that? I’m out and about and now I’m dripping. Thanks for nothing.

His reply doesn’t take long, has her taste blood from where she’s gnawing her bottom lip open.

that’s how I want you baby, all the time. see you soon.

She’s distracted for the rest of the day but when her friends ask her about it, she chalks it up to her stressful college courses and tight deadlines. Despite the butterflies dancing in her belly, she’s had a nice time, and when she walks into Cooper’s house later, she’s got a beaming smile on her face.

“Honey, I’m home!” she shouts, taking off her shoes and hanging up her handbag by the door.

“Honeys, please!” comes Stuart’s voice from the living room and she grins as she walks in, presses a kiss to the tops of their heads.

“Missed ya at the party yesterday,” she says and plops down on the loveseat across from where they’re cuddled up on the couch.

Friends is on. She hates that show.

“Yeah, I was sad I couldn’t make it, but Cooper is throwing a pool party tomorrow, so I’ll still get some fun in.”

She’s surprised at hearing about yet another event, but she’s not complaining.

“And drinks,” Cooper reminds him helpfully. “Lots of drinks as well.”

They chat a little, watch a small part of some movie that’s on when Stuart switches the channel, stay up until it’s hard for her to suppress the yawning. Bidding them goodnight, she stands up to go into the guest room when Cooper calls out her name.

“He’ll be there tomorrow,” he lets her know, a kind little smile on his face, and she nods gratefully before ascending the stairs, ready for sleep.

The next morning, she doesn’t overthink it, mainly because she refuses to give up so much power so soon.

It’s just her usual routine; the shaving, the skincare, the comfy bikini, a midi dress over it. No make-up, just her necklace, she refuses to get dolled up for a pool party. From what she knows, it’ll be a much smaller affair than Friday’s party was, and she’s looking forward to it.

“I’ll handle the BBQ, could you just make the salad dressing and carry these out to the patio, (Y/N)?” Cooper asks her, and she obliges gladly.

They set everything up rather quickly, the guests start arriving soon, and she tries her hardest not to stop in her tracks when she sees Nicholas walk out through the glass doors of the living room, hugging everyone he knows before he spots her. The way he rakes his eyes over her body before settling on her face makes heat creep up her neck, and she knows that it’s got nothing to do with today’s temperature.

“Hey, stranger,” he greets her, wraps his arms around her to give her a good squeeze.

“Hey, you,” she smiles, inhales his fresh scent, enjoys having him in her arms again. “How have you been?”

The breath he exhales as he pulls away is deep, it lets her know that things have gone down, but the private smile he gives her makes the oncoming worry in her mind disappear.

“I’ve been alright so far, I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”

She nods, cheeks warming. “Okay. Come find me.”

She allows herself to be open, truthful in her wants, and he chuckles at that, squeezes her shoulder.

“Always.”

They don’t sit next to each other during lunch, but they keep glancing over the table and finding each other’s eyes, and every single time it happens, it makes the heat coil tighter in her stomach. He looks fucking good today, ruffled hair and a loose button-down that he keeps open, muscular chest flashing at every turn. At some point he puts his sunglasses on and turns his head straight in her direction, but she can’t tell if she’s being stared at or not, faltering during the conversation she’s trying to have with one of the girls at the party.

When they’re all full and satiated, they go and find their own things to do: some go to swim a few laps or just cool off in the pool, some go to lounge by the grass and read, some stay at the table and keep drinking and chatting. She decides to walk over to the big tree at the back of the garden, finding a comfortable spot on the outdoor sofa under it and laying down, head comfortably resting on a small pillow. It’s not like she’s hoping he’ll find her there; she knows he is going to come and join her eventually. She just needs a little breather yet again, getting easily overwhelmed in big groups of people.

“And here you are, sneaking off again,” she hears his voice after Lord knows how much time has passed, and she can’t help the slow smile that spreads across her face.

“My social battery empties quickly,” she starts to explain as she watches him sit down at the end of the outdoor couch, but what she doesn’t expect is for him to grab her legs and drape them over his lap, rubbing up and down one foot lightly.

“D’you mind?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“No, ‘s comfortable.”

They sit in silence like that for a little, just looking at each other, and she can feel a lump grow in her throat. Never has she wanted somebody as badly as him, and the restraint she has to show is otherworldly at this point.

“What happened, Nicholas?” she dives straight in, direct as always, watches him exhale deeply.

“Well,” he laughs, no humor behind it. “I had that conversation with her yesterday.”

“Yeah? How’d it go?” she asks, heart in her throat.

She thinks back on what he told her, that he’s scared to give in to his ex, that he might let her convince him to try one more time, one more moment, one more fuck, and she feels pathetic for how scared she is that he’ll tell her that this is it, it’s over between them before it even started.

“She took it well. I hate hurting her, I really struggled, but she… she didn’t put up a fight,” he explains, and a wave of relief mixed with guilt washes over her, has her breathe easier. “She knows, I think. We both do.”

“You still love her, though, don’t you?” she presses, winces when he grabs her foot and digs in, massages at a sore spot.

His smirk tells her he isn’t sorry.

“Yeah, I do. But she isn’t mine to have anymore, and I am so okay with that.”

“Do you feel bad about Friday night?”

He scoffs, pulls her foot up to his mouth and presses a kiss against it, has her gut clenching from the motion, so intimate, so familiar.

“There’s nothing I’ve felt better about in a while, I’ll be honest.”

She nods, at a loss for words. Wanting to jump him right here, but cautious considering their surroundings. Wanting to have him but wanting to keep building the tension to see what happens when he snaps.

It’s hard having a filter in his presence, so she blurts out, “How many more times have you thought about me having you down my throat since you texted me yesterday?”

“Jesus Christ,” Nicholas chokes and throws his head back, eyes shut as if it’s hurting him to think about it.

“I need to know, Nick.”

“Last night again… then this morning, as I was getting ready to come here.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Last night before or after you went to see her?”

His brown eyes are wide when she looks into them, they’re honest and sincere, which is why it hits so much harder when he tells her, “Both.”

“Fuck,” she breathes, sits up and pulls her legs to her chest, needing to collect herself. “You’re a bastard, Nicholas.”

“I can’t help it,” he smirks, reaches out to lay a hand on her knee but not moving closer. “What about you? Did you have to help yourself out at all?”

She nods dumbly, unable to look away from his face.

“Last night, as well. Three times. I couldn’t sleep without it.”

A bite to his lips tells her he’s imagining it, thinking about it.

“Did you give yourself any fingers? Or did you only play with your clit?”

“M-my clit, didn’t put anything inside of me.”

She feels the increase of her pulse, feels the tingle in her core at the way he looks at her, devours her with his gaze.

“Why not, little girl?”

“I want the next thing to fill me to be you, Nicholas,” she confesses, lays herself bare and relishes in the devastation her words cause him, the way his jaw drops, his brows raise.

It’s safe, she reminds herself, he’s safe. She can be vulnerable with him, can let him throw her against the wall and trust that he’ll pick up the shattered pieces to put her back together.

“You’re killing me, do you know that? The things I wanna do to you…” he trails off, stares into the distance for a moment. “I’ve never wanted to do them to another person. I don’t even fucking know you.”

“No, but you see me. And I don’t need to know what those things are, Nicholas. I feel them. And I want them, too.”

A harsh puff of air leaves his nose before he’s leaning back, gazing at her, face resolute.

“Go to the room upstairs and wait for me there, will you?”

She nods, mind and heart racing, does as she’s told as she gets up on shaky legs, knees nearly buckling. Making sure her walk isn’t too fast as not to rouse suspicion but fast enough to show him that she wants this, so he can see- and he certainly is watching her ass as she’s leaving- that she’s on board with what he’s trying to do.

She meant what she said: she doesn’t need to know, she feels it.

Arriving in the guest room, she doesn’t know what to do with herself, nerves getting the best of her and leaving her nearly dizzy. She splashes some cold water on her face before cupping her hands and letting the water from the tap fill them, bringing them to her mouth and swallowing mouthfuls before she turns it off. The image that greets her in the mirror is one she hasn’t seen often: a woman delirious with lust, eyes glazed over and cheeks blotchy.

A sound from the outside makes her dry her face off quickly before stepping out, seeing Nicholas shut and lock the door, eyes dark.

They say nothing as he stands across from her and puts a hand on her cheek, runs his thumb across her lips, smiles when she takes the very tip of it between her teeth and bites down gently.

“You’re a sweet one, aren’t you?” he asks, and she nods as he pushes his finger deeper into her mouth, presses down on her tongue and leaves it there. Her hands find his torso, his chiseled muscles to hold on to lest she loses balance, and she sucks his digit into her mouth deeply, hollows her cheeks as they keep staring at each other. “You’re a good cocksucker as well, though, hm?”

She shrugs cheekily, smiles around his finger when he chuckles. She pulls away, then, kisses the tip of his thumb.

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”

The way he rolls his eyes playfully is so sexy, takes away some of the suffocating seriousness that has crept into their dynamic without breaking the tension, without diminishing the spark they have.

Large palms frame her face as he looks at her deeply, anticipation forcing her mouth to open in a gasp, and that’s when he takes his chance, claims her mouth in a kiss so sensual that it has her moaning into his lips. It doesn’t take long for his tongue to find hers and he licks at her muscle, lets her in and deepens the kiss, makes it dirty but so full of lust and devotion that she can’t help but stand on her tippy toes to chase after that sensation.

His hand finds her throat, grips it lightly yet makes her feel breathless, a dirty chuckle against her lips breaking their moment.

“You’ll let me in there, won’t you, baby?” he rasps, drives his finger down the front of her throat. “All the way inside?”

She nods, stupid with want. “Yes, please let me. I need to taste you, Nicholas, fuck.”

He kisses her again, then, toying with her mouth as his hands unzip her dress, pull it off her body, leaving her in only her bikini.

“Kneel in front of the bed, with your back facing it,” he instructs, burying his head in her neck and nibbling lightly, grinning at her gasp.

She does as she’s told, has little control over it, kneels obediently and looks up at him with a wet pout on her lips. Remembering what he told her last time, that no woman could ever take his cock down here throat, believing him. Despite its length, what probably causes trouble is the veiny thickness of it, the very thing that makes cunts drip for him being the reason for locked jaws and hurting lips.

The walk over to her is deliberately slow, he’s letting her stew in her desire for him, but she can’t even complain, not when she gets to observe even his most miniscule movements uninterrupted. The first thing she does when he’s right there is fall forward and bury her face in his crotch, over the material of his linen shorts, inhaling deeply. His clothes smell clean but there’s a musky undertone, something so distinctly man that it has her mouth watering.

“Shhh, there you go, get your fill,” he whispers, drives his hands through her hair and she’s so grateful he’s letting her express her desperation how she needs to.

The balance of her body barely allows her to get up on her knees, but she manages, presses open mouthed kisses along his torso, as far up as she can reach. She licks into his navel, kisses down his happy trail, moans as she traces her tongue along the waistband of his briefs.

“Fuck, I’m so hungry for it,” she breathes, “please give it to me, I need it so bad.”

Nicholas chuckles, a sound that hits her right in the chest, and untangles the strings of his pants. She’s glad he’s decided to take his shorts off completely, wrapping her hands around his thighs as soon as he’s stepped out of them and mouthing at his hard cock through his briefs, tongue tasting a salty wet spot and groaning into it.

“Jesus, (Y/N), you’re like a woman possessed,” he growls, all pride and no disgust, and it spurs her on to reach up and pull his cock out, get his underwear out of the way so she can really revel in everything his manhood has to give.

He discards his shirt as well, then, and there he is: her personal Greek God in all his glory, naked flesh for her to devour.

A tear makes its way down her cheek and she’s done with waiting, needs for him to own her.

“Please,” she breathes and smiles wickedly as he grabs his cock, pumps it once, twice before holding it by the base and-

And slapping it across her face, the hit harder than she anticipated, making her cry out with nasty hunger.

“Again,” she begs, and he obeys with a wide-eyed stare, slaps her one more time, two more times before hooking his thumb in her mouth and pulling it open, praising her when she automatically sticks her tongue out.

Nick traces the leaking head of his cock over her tongue, and she could cry when the salt hits her tastebuds, the warmth of his flesh mixing with the wetness on her muscle.

“This is what you were made for, baby,” he says, praises her, talks as if he’s far away. “You’re so fucking beautiful, just waiting for me to ruin you, huh?” She nods her head before shaking it, making sure his precome coats all of her tongue, moans when he orders, “Suck this cock, sweetheart.”

Not needing to be told twice, she engulfs the thick tip in her mouth, sucks on it as she moves her tongue down to coat his length in spit, to ease the way, to make it easier for him to claim the depths of her throat.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he curses above her, hands not ceasing their movement in her hair, and she sees it as motivation to keep going. The louder he is, the louder she wants him.

Some men like a mix between a willing mouth and two skilled hands, she knows, but today she wants to show him just how hungry she’s been for his cock since she met him, so she works her lips around him, determined to not need her hands for this. She sinks deeper and deeper, lets the accumulated spit from her mouth coat him, doesn’t mind the strings of it escaping and dripping down her chin, makes sure she keeps her eyes wide and on him as he’s struggling not to squeeze his shut.

“Halfway there, baby, you’re so fucking good f’me,” he moans, “Messy little girl, just like that.”

She lays her tongue out and takes a deep breath before pushing down stubbornly, eyes screwing up as he goes deeper and deeper, watching his slack jaw and wide eyes marveling at something he’s always wished to experience but never could, not with the women he’d been with before. Relaxing her throat and feeling him push through that last bit of resistance as she fights against her gag reflex, fights to keep it deep within her chest, fights through the pain it brings her not to openly cough at the intrusion in her body. She can’t stand it, not for long, and she has to pull away with a chest-wracking cough, trying to collect herself but delirious with the need to prove her devotion to him.

“Baby, that was amazing, just-“

“Fuck my throat, Nicholas,” she rasps through the tears, gets in position again and takes his cock in hand this time, jerks him a little until she gets herself under control again.

“(Y/N), are you sure? Once I start, I won’t be stopping until you give me a signal, no matter how much you cry, okay?”

Jesus Christ. She nods, determined.

“I’ll tap your thigh twice if I need you to really stop, okay?”

He bends down and kisses her deeply, wipes at the tears on her cheeks.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers before straightening back up, gripping her by the hair and growling, “now open that fuckin’ throat for me.”

It’s animalistic, the way he takes her mouth, pushes his cock deep and keeps snapping his hips up, moaning loudly as she chokes, as she holds onto her own thighs just to have something to grip while he uses her. Inch by inch he fucks himself deep, groans her name, “My good girl, that’s right, show ‘em how it’s done,” knowing exactly how to spur her on, how to give her the strength to fight through her body’s struggles.

She’s gargling out spit, face wet and messy, when he finally, fucking finally manages to bottom out, bury her nose in his trimmed pubic hair, almost doubling over when she then sticks her tongue out until the back of her throat starts burning to lap at his balls with the tip of it, just to show him that there’s nothing stopping her from satisfying the hunger she has for him.

“Ho- oh my fucking- ugh,” he moans, the tightness of her sending him into overdrive, the way her choking and swallowing around his cock stimulates his sensitive head making tears spring to his eyes.

He grabs her by the hair and rips her back roughly, letting her breathe heavy for a minute before diving down to claim her lips in a bruising kiss, in awe at this woman kneeling in front of him.

“Fuck, that felt good,” she laughs manically against his mouth, tears and snot dripping from her face, but they don’t care, they’re reveling in the way they can mess each other up.

“You okay, baby? Your voice is fucked,” he smiles as she nods eagerly, clearing her throat.

“More, please, fuck my face just a little more,” she begs, watching his eyes widen at her request, but she doesn’t care. Now that she’s gotten a taste, she wants more.

One hand in her hair and the other one on her jaw, he pushes between her lips again, keeps pushing until he’s in all the way and pulls her off again, watching her splutter and cough for a second before reeling her in again. Nicholas seems to enjoy that, watching her struggle with her throat full, struggle to catch her breath after, but whenever her eyes meet his in a silent plea, she sees the fire in his gaze burn that much brighter before he goes in to fuck her face again.

“No more,” he pants, grabs her by the arms and pulls her into a standing position, steadying her as her legs give out from having knelt for so long. “Fuck, I almost came down your throat.”

“Why didn’t you?” she pouts, face a total mess but causing him to smile at her warmly regardless.

“Don’ wanna, wanna shoot my load inside of you,” he mutters, makes her cheeks heat up.

“Next time, though?”

He laughs, kisses her swollen mouth.

“Promise, baby.”

Nick makes quick work of her bikini and gets her naked and sprawled across the bed in record time, writhing under his heated gaze as he just stands here, cock hard and dripping with her spit, watching her.

“Spread your legs for me,” he instructs, eyes raking over her form, and with a shy bite to her lip she obliges, parts her legs and lets him look at where she’s sloppy wet for him.

“Need you so bad, I’m all swollen,” she whines, watches as he positions himself between her legs, kisses along her stomach up to her tits.

The first nipple he takes into his hot mouth gets a quick bite shortly after, making her hiss, before he moves over to the second, giving it attention while she rakes her hands through his hair, lost in sensation.

It’s all she’s ever wanted and more, the fucked-out state of arousal that has her mind feeling honey sticky and slow, completely out of her own body. She focuses on his weight on top of her, the way his spit on her nipples paired with the cool air in the room gives her gooseflesh, and soon enough she’s whimpering as he trails his kisses in the direction of her center.

“Finally getting a taste of this gorgeous cunt, been thinking about it,” he murmurs against her mound, looks right at her as he says, “Gonna kiss you where I’m gonna fuck you, my sweet,” before he dives right in, licks her in broad stripes and has her throwing her head back in ecstasy.

All the blood rushes to her center and despite not even having been touched properly, the tension burns, makes her clit tingle where it’s being loved on by his clever tongue, and she can’t help but bury her hands in his hair and push her hips up into his awaiting mouth. Nicholas eats pussy like it’s the most decadent thing he’s ever had, like it melts on his tongue, the way he pushes between her inner lips and slurps at the very source of her arousal. By now he knows how much she loves the attention on her little nub, so he sucks it into his mouth, taps his tongue against it until she’s arching off the bed, only being held down by his bulging arms.

“N-Nick, fuck, fuck no-,“ she’s trying to push him off, the buildup of her climax making every limb tingle, but he holds on, holds her steady until she’s crying, begging, “please, let me come for you, please, please, pl- fuck-“

A hum of confirmation, the vibration of it hitting her core, is all it takes before she’s coming hard, pulling his head closer and trying to bat him away at the same time, and the minute her high decreases and her muscles relax he’s on her, kissing her lax mouth, pushing his tongue deep and letting her taste her pussy on his sinful lips.

“Y’taste sweeter than I could’ve imagined,” he’s breathing hard against her mouth, “sweetest pussy just for me to take, ain’t it? Fuck, I need to be inside of you.”

The “Please,” punches out of her, already wrapping her legs around his torso so he’d slip in easier, giving him all the access and shouting into his shoulder as he slides his cock into her in one go, fills her up until she can feel him in her lungs. She pushes at his chest so he’d pull away, look at her, grabs him by the face and hisses “What the fuck are you, who the fuck- what are you doing t- to me?”

Nicholas’ laugh is amazed, top lip curled over his perfect teeth as he focuses on drilling into her hard, watching her lose her mind under him, watching her give herself over to him without a care in the world. He angles his hips just so, pelvic bone brushing against her clit with every thrust, making her see stars.

“You’ll come for me like this,” he promises, voice shot, “you’re so gorgeous, fuck. Look at you, can’t believe you’ll come for me again, I’ve got you-“

“Nick, please,” she cries, terrified of what her mind is making her body do, “I can’t-“

“You can and you will,” he snaps, grabs her by the face and pulls her close, kisses her pouting mouth. “Come for me, (Y/N), I wanna see you lose it.”

She doesn’t pass out this time but she kind of wishes she did, because the groans and moans and pathetic whimpers that rip out of deep within her are sounds she’s never going to unhear now. If it were with anyone else, she’d be mortified, but he just talks her through it with pride in his voice as if she were his girl, his to coach and use and fuck and lo-

But isn’t she? She sure feels like it.

“Atta fuckin’ girl, that’s right, oh I’m gonna come, baby-“

“Fill me up,” she whispers, lax now, letting herself be used and moved like a rag doll, “I wanna feel you dripping out of my pussy for days.”

“Oh shit, (Y/N)-“ and that does it for him, apparently, as he pushes in impossibly deep and spills inside of her, moaning into her neck and holding her close, filling her body and mind and heart, and dear God, she’s a fucking goner.

The room smells like their sex, like musk, heady and dazed, makes her head spin where she’s laying under him and wondering what the actual fuck just happened. Nicholas’ breathing is labored but he’s still pressing lazy kisses against her temple, arms still around her spent body.

After a moment, he peers down at her.

“You okay, baby?” he whispers, like the atmosphere is something fragile.

She doesn’t trust her voice, so she just nods.

“Was it too much? Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head no.

He chuckles deeply, leans down to kiss her mouth and she can’t do much more than to let herself be kissed, can’t reciprocate.

“Talk to me, love, c’mon,” he requests gently, and when she hears that little nickname, hears the care in his voice, her lip starts wobbling and her tears start running freely down her cheeks. “Oh, baby,” he soothes, lets her cry in his arms, holds her through it.

She’s heard of people crying after sex, especially after intense sex, but it has never happened to her. Laying here, though, on these ruined sheets, face and body and her fucking insides sticky with him, after having been used so mercilessly and still having him hold her like she’s something precious, talk to her like she’s something to be cherished? She can’t take it, the turmoil of the last few days, the last few weeks, paired with the experience of his mere existence sending her into overdrive.

“Let it out, I’m here f’you,” he whispers, shushes her, kisses her head, and soon enough she runs out of tears, only sniffles where she’s hiding in his neck.

Nicholas pulls away, props himself up on one elbow as his other hand keeps stroking her hair, her face, anything he can reach. He’s got a small smile playing on his full lips as he looks at her, and she smiles back, exhausted but satiated.

“’m sorry for this,” she croaks, voice barely there.

Before she can say anything else, he interrupts her, shushes her with his thumb on her lips. “Please don’t,” he says, eyes kind, “I’m so honored that you trust me enough to fall apart like this. Seriously, (Y/N), this is not a small deal.”

She clicks her tongue, eyes welling up with tears again.

“I know,” she whimpers, takes his hand in hers and kisses it. “I know it isn’t, and I don’t know what the fuck to do with this. I- Nicholas… What the fuck?”

He brings her to his chest, holds her close, kisses the crown of her head.

“None of that now, baby,” he whispers, “Now I gotta give you some good aftercare and then we’ll clean up, okay? We can talk later, when we’re both in our right minds. That sound good?”

She nods, says, “I don’t wanna go back to the party,” but it’s muffled against his full chest.

He hears her anyways.

“We don’t have to; we’ll just stay here."

Cleaning up is a quiet affair, they keep each other close at all times, standing under the shower together and just washing each other, hands trailing across the other with no intent to take it further. It’s intimate, it’s connecting, and it’s exactly what she needs to come down from the rollercoaster he’s put her through. Nicholas rummages through the closets on that floor until he finds clean sheets and changes them while she stands next to the bed, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, watching with a small smile as he wrestles with the fitted sheet.

“Too many workouts today,” he grumbles as he pulls it over the corners of the bed, “I haven’t consumed enough calories today for this level of exercise.”

She giggles at his silliness before she lets herself fall onto the bed, holding her arms open for him to crawl in, settling his head on her boobs.

“Naked cuddling is my favorite,” she whispers to him conspiratorially and he nods eagerly, agreeing.

“Same, don’t nearly do it often enough.”

She’s ready for a nap, she realizes as she lets her eyes fall shut, and soon enough she’s slipping away softly, clutching him tightly.

Unsure if she's dreaming or not, she hears a soft, "I've got you, my sweet. Always got you."

#mine #my writing #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas alexander Chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #charlie mayhew #father charlie mayhew #father Charlie x reader #grotesquerie #father charlie grotesquerie #father charlie smut #nicholas chavez fanfiction #nicholas chavez imagine #monsters netflix #spencer cassadine

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uluvjay · 2 days ago

Text

New look- K. Dach

Kirby Dach x fem! Reader

In which Kirby comes home sporting a new look and you can’t keep your hands to yourself!

Warnings?: SMUT, road head (unsafe but this is fictional!), reader takes off seatbelt (I do not support if you are in a REAL car), oral m receiving, kissing, cursing, hair pulling, sorry if I missed any errors!

You hadn’t thought twice when Kirby gave you a kiss and said he was going for a haircut, you kissed him back and reminded him to be home in time for your dinner reservations.

An hour and a half later you were seated at your vanity when you heard the door open and arms soon wrap around you while Kirby’s head tucked into your neck.

You could feel the tickle of his scruff the trimmed hair leaving a delicious tingle behind as you pulled away to greet him properly.

“Hi bab-your hair, what did you do to it?” You cut yourself off noticing the usually styled and slicked back locks were loosely placed on his forehead and relaxed.

“I trimmed it but he was out of the gel I like so I just said I’d style it at home.” He shrugged.

“Don’t” you rushed out, cheeks heating as he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Why?” He smirked.

“I-I like it, looks good like that.” You blushed even darker from being put on the spot.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm”

With a shrug and a nod of his head Kirby pulled away placing a kiss to your head before he disappeared into the walk in closet thoughts running through his mind.

You however sat there with a dull throb beginning between your legs, if there was one thing you loved on Kirby it was his messy hair. Something about the way it looked after your fingers were tangled in it all night or how it fell perfectly on lazy days at home when he used no product.

You knew keeping your hands to yourself tonight would be a struggle especially since Kirby always requested a private booth at the restaurant where no prying eyes could be on the two of you.

Soon the both of you were dressed and heading out the door, Kirby’s dark green sweatshirt hugging his toned arms just right.

He made sure to walk behind you on the way to the elevator to grab a sight at the way your ass looked in your skirt, the tight material hugging it in just the right spots.

He couldn’t help himself from slapping the curve of your ass as he opened the door of his G-wagon for you.

“Kirby!” You scolded but the smile on your face showed you didn’t really mind.

“Sorry baby, couldn’t help myself.” He teased before shutting your door and rounding the car to get in on his own side.

The feeling was mutual it took everything in your body not to lock him in the bedroom and say fuck the reservations when he walked out of the closet in that damn sweater, his expensive cologne filling your senses, the watch you bought him for his birthday sitting pretty on his wrist.

You both behaved on the way to the restaurant light conversation filling the car as he told you about all the prep the team had planned before their long road trip coming up.

Once you two got into the restaurant the host was quick to guide you to your usual booth in the far back of the restaurant away from the normal restaurant.

Kirby slid in first and you quickly followed both of you looking over the menu despite already having a good idea of what you wanted.

It was kinda cheesy to some people that you two went to the same restaurant for date nights a lot but it had became a part of your routine and when the foods that good, nothing beats it.

“So Rob thinks I need to dye my beard.” He spoke up.

“Why?” You questioned confused as to why his Barber would suggest that.

“When he was trimming my beard he said the parts around my mouth are lighter than the rest, like they’d been bleached or something.” He smirked.

“Oh my god.” You were positive you were as red as a fire truck, humiliation, embarrassment, but also amusement flowing through your bones.

“He didn’t ask why did he?” You cringed.

“No and I acted clueless, didn’t really wanna tell the guy it’s from eating my girlfriend out a lot.” He laughed.

Your hands flew to cover your face as a soft laugh fell from you as well, “That’s awful Kirby.”

“Hey at least he didn’t know what it was from.” He shrugged.

You looked up at him to find him already staring at your with a look of pure amusement, however the curls on his forehead once again caught your attention.

His polished but messy hair look really doing numbers for you, and that familiar throb was back between your thighs.

“What?” He asked, his own cheeks turning red from your heated stare.

“Nothing, just admiring how handsome you are.” You smiled leaning up to kiss his jaw softly before returning to your menu.

The rest of dinner went teasingly well, Kirby’s hand lingering high on your thigh his thick fingers occasionally slipping under the material of your skirt earning him soft gasps here and there.

But you didn’t let his actions go without consequences as your own hand rested on his thigh, manicured nails scratching against the inside of his denim covered thighs.

Needless to say by the time you two were standing to make it to the car you were praying you didn’t have a wet spot on your skirt and Kirby’s was adjusting his jeans the best he could to hide his bulge.

However your games didn’t end in the car your hand quickly resumed its spot on his thigh however this time it rested right below where he needed you most.

Kirby could feel his breathing hitch every time one of your nails inched a tiny bit higher doing his absolute best not to thrust up into your touch.

“Baby?” He spoke up.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to move your hand or I’m gonna cum before we even make it home.” He panted.

You looked over at him heat flowing taking over your body at the sight of his flushed face, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight they were white.

Taking false pity on the man you moved your hand down just a bit using the other to unbuckle your seat belt.

“What are you doing?” He questioned.

“Just stay still and pay attention to the road Kirby” you instructed.

You noticed you were about ten minutes from home and that’s exactly what you needed to get what you wanted from him.

Reaching over you unbuttoned his jeans before pulling down the zipper, Kirby lifted his hips out of instinct to help get the material down enough for his cock to spring free.

“Oh fuck” he gasped feeling your cold hand wrap around the base of his cock before you stoked him slowly.

Kirby thought he was going to explode at the feeling of your lips leaving wet open mouthed kisses on the tip of his cock venturing as far down as you could before you returned to the tip.

This time your tongue poked out to slowly circle the tip, moving deliberately slow earning a deep sigh from the man above you.

He drops one of his hands from the steering wheel to tangle in your styled hair and when he pulls on the roots just enough to tell you to knock your shit off your mouth swallows him.

Your movements are hungry and desperate, your hand still wrapped around his cock moving in sync with your mouth squeezing the base just the way he likes.

Kirby was doing his best to keep his eyes open and focus on the road ahead, his chest heaving in and out as his soft grunts of pleasure filled the car.

Thank god for tinted Windows the Canadian thought.

“Fuck baby, getting close” he panted.

He laughed softly as you gave him a thumbs up but it was quickly cut off when he felt your lips back on the head of his cock.

His sounds grow louder as your mouth drops back down, wet mouth moving with hunger as your hand follows right behind with a tight hold.

Kirby doesn’t mean to but he pulls your hair hard enough to guide a moan out of your throat and the simple vibration of your throat is what sends the man over the edge.

“I’m coming.” He chokes out in a warning.

He groans loudly from the pleasure flooding his body his body heaving as you continue to stroke him through his high, only coming back up once you know he’s done coming.

And right as you sit back in your seat he’s pulling into his reserved spot in the parking garage.

“What in the hell was that?” He smiled over at you with a look of shock.

“Couldn’t help myself, you looked too good over there.” You smirked.

He shook his head before moving to tuck himself back into his jeans, getting out of the car he moved to your side and opened the door for you.

Pushing you against the cold doors he dipped his head down he made sure he was eye to eye before speaking up.

“You get a head start, I want you in nothing but your bra and panties when I get up there.” He instructed handing you the keys to the apartment before stepping back.

He laid a swat to your ass and with that you were off and running for the elevator.

Needless to say neither of you got much sleep that night and neither did the neighbors next door.

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #kirby dach smut #kirby dach x reader #kirby dach imagine #kirby dach #love me some kirby #nhl blurb #nhl smut #nhl fluff #nhl x reader #nhl fic

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thanosscross · 18 hours ago

Text

All for show 2/? - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader

Summary: After growing bored at home, you finally decide to sneak off and surprise Seung Hyun for his birthday, only to get a surprise of your own.

Warnings: None lovelies! <33

Not having any more shows, it was starting to drive you nuts, especially with your manager adding another three months to your break, like you were a child in timeout. You were basically stuck at home, doing over the phone interviews and photoshoots for brand deals. You spent most of time at home, either writing new songs, or finding stupid silly things to send a picture of to Seung Hyun. You both had started a little habit, anytime Seung Hyun saw something beautiful or captivating, he'd send you a picture, and you'd always find the weirdest funniest things to send him pictures of.

You had been trying harder to learn more Korean, thankful for your new friend for always helping you whenever you needed, Seung Hyun was always happy to help you, it charmed and flustered him that you were willing to make that big of an effort just to be able to speak with him more clearly. You were slowly getting better with it, still having hiccups and issues every now and then, but you always ended up getting it in the end. The boys knew, they needed to keep your and Seung Hyun's friendship under wraps, knowing your style of music and dancing wasn't exactly the thing, YG would want to see associating with his boys, not right now at least. You weren't concerned about it though, mainly just focused on Seung Hyun, his friends whenever they'd pop into the room during your calls, and your music, if your manager wouldn't let you perform, you were at least going to make sure your fans were getting new music while they waited.

Seung Hyun on the other hand, was being tossed from tour shows, to interviews, to variety shows, and rehearsals. Despite all of his running around, he'd still always find time to speak with you, you just seemed to make him feel better about his stress. As he plopped onto the recording studio's couch, Seung Hyun tapped your contact, pressing the small 'facetime' button by your name. "Aein! What are you doing!?" He laughed loudly, as soon as the call was answered, Seung Hyun was met with you sitting on top of one of the doors in your house. You were grateful for your overly tall ceiling, allowing you to always sit on the doors or just climb around on the awkward architecture parts of your home. "나는 스파이더맨이야! (I'm spiderman)!" You shouted, proud of yourself for repeating the phrase you had spent the last three hours trying to learn, Seung Hyun couldn't contain his laughter "Aein, Please! You're going to fall!" He pleaded, trying his best to get you to get down, not wanting to see you fall and hurt yourself. "I'm okay! See, like thirty pillows under me!" You giggled, turning your phone to show him the mountain of pillows and blankets sitting on the floor, beneath you. "You're so silly" He chuckled, turning his phone towards Ji-Yong who sat not far away from him "Is that where Americans sit in their free time?" He joked playfully, watching as you stuck your tongue out "For me? Yes" You replied before leaning your chin on the top of the door as you watched Seung Hyun appear back into the camera's frame.

"How's your day been, Aein?" He asked softly, resting an arm underneath his head as he watched you drop your phone down, before climbing down off of the door, ready to show him your latest creation of music. "아주 좋아, 새로운 노래를 만들었어 (Very good, I made a new song)" You smiled softly, making your way into the in-home studio you had built for the exact reason of Christopher being a dick. "Your Korean is getting really good! Are you learning from another person?" He teased, smiling as you blushed hiding your face for a moment "No, I just have a lot of free time, and I enjoy talking with you" You smiled, sitting down in your office chair as you set your phone up on your desk, trying to find the file on your computer. "So, I have a music video idea for it, but I was wondering...if you boys were free, and able to, if you would want to come help shoot for it?" You smiled softly, picking at your night pants nervously, you hadn't asked anything like this before, usually you left it all to Chris, but you really wanted the boys there, specifically Seung Hyun. "I'll talk to YG, see if we can't make it happen" He smiled softly, watching as you jumped up excitedly, squealing and doing a lap around your recording studio as you cheered "They haven't said yes yet!" He laughed, you just sat back down in your chair giggling "Yes but you said you would talk to them!" You smiled, pulling your knees to your chest as you took in every feature of Seung Hyun's before he had to end the call. "당신은 아름답습니다, 나의 뮤즈 (You're beautiful, my muse)" He muttered, smacking Ji-Yong and Dae-Sung's legs as they made playful kissing noises next to him. "No! You can't say that!! I worked for almost two hours to learn how to call you my muse!" You shouted laughing, jumping up into your chair, covering your face, of course he would pull that line before you could. "Aww, I'm your muse?" He smiled, holding a hand over his heart as he watched you "Yes, you are, is that a problem?" You giggled, picking up your phone as you finally found the audio clip from your last recording session "Nope, no problem" Seung Hyun replied smiling, hoping you wouldn't notice the blush on his cheeks "So! This song is..very different, and I want the boys around you to hear too! You guys have listened to my music before, so, I tried making a song that I liked making, not Christopher basically writing it for me, and I haven't had time to edit everything, so the music hasn't been added" You explained nervously, setting your phone down to face the computer screen as you hit play, you paced nervously behind your phone as your voice started to play through the speakers.

Whenever the recording finished, you squealed pausing it as the recording of you playing around in the recording booth started to play "Wait! Wait! That was my song!" Seung Hyun laughed, recognizing his lyrics for one of his singles, you just shushed him loudly, sliding into the floor as you snatched your phone from the desk "No it wasn't, you're hearing things" You protested, giggling as he just gave you a questioning look, you just sighed smiling "it's fun to do that" You admitted shyly, watching as he just chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. "I like that song, it was pretty" Seung Hyun replied softly, smiling whenever you jumped in your spot slightly in excitement "Really? You really liked it?" You gasped excitedly, moving from the floor over to your desk again, smiling brightly. "I did, you sound beautiful, and the song itself is beautiful" He smiled softly, glancing over as Tae-Yang stepped out of the recording booth, pointing towards Seung Hyun, letting him know he was next to record. "Thank you, It means a lot, especially coming from you" You smiled softly, a bright blush covering your cheeks as he gave you the usual sweet smile, he would anytime you'd say something sweet or endearing to him. "녹음을 해야 해서 곧 집에 돌아가면 전화할게, 알겠지 아름다워? (I have to record, so I'll call you when I get home soon, okay Beautiful?)" Seung Hyun replied sadly, watching as your face fell "Fine, I guess I'll let you off of the phone.." You whispered playfully, giggling loudly whenever Seung Hyun playfully poked his bottom lip out in a pout "I'm sorry, Aein, but I must go, I'll talk to you in a little bit, byee~" He smiled softly, you just smiled sweetly "당신을 사랑해요, 여보, byee~ (I love you, honey)" You replied quickly before ending the call, squealing loudly as you processed what you said. You had both been steady friends for a few months now, talking almost every day, along with falling asleep on the phone together, while you flirted and teased each other, neither of you went as far as saying 'I love you' until now.

Seung Hyun would be taken by surprise by your statement, he felt giddy at your words, smiling brightly as he made his way into the recording booth to do his verses. Taking notice to his friend's smiley, giddy state, Ji-Yong raised his phone, recording a quick video before sending it to you with the caption 'What in the world did you do to our boy?'

You'd giggle loudly whenever you'd watch over the video that Ji-Yong sent you, replying back as you smiled brightly 'I did nothing, other than learn Korean :)' You'd turn to focus on your next plan, a secret plan, that nobody knew, other than your assistant, You were flying to South Korea, planning on surprising Seung Hyun for his birthday next month. Thankfully, Dae-Sung was happy to help you, and happy to keep a secret for you, making your plan go through so much smoother. Whenever the day would come to fly out, you'd keep your head down, not wanting to be spotted by paparazzi, they'd immediately snitch you out to your manager and then your plan would go down in flames.

You had been working so hard as you boarded the private plane, convincing Seung Hyun that you had forgotten his birthday entirely, before going on a 'mental reset retreat' for the day. It broke your heart seeing how disappointed he looked that he wouldn't hear from you anymore until tomorrow, but you knew it'd be worth it whenever you got to see him in person again. As your plane landed, and you made it through security and everything else necessary to enter the country, you were immediately greeted by Dae-Sung and his security. "Y/n!! I've missed you!" He squealed, hugging you tightly as he smiled, grabbing your bags quickly from you as he smiled "Ready to go see Seung Hyun? He's got no clue, he's actually been listening to your music since you got on your flight, I think he's hating the not talking to you" He giggled softly, motioning towards the doors where a car sat outside waiting for you all "나도 너를 그리웠어! 정말 준비됐어, 승현이랑 보내는 시간이 그리웠어. (I missed you too! I'm really ready, I missed spending time with Seung Hyun)" You replied, relaxing a bit now that you were finally on the ground and not thousands of feet in the air. "당신의 한국어가 정말 잘 하시네요, 빨리 배우시는 것 같아요. (Your Korean is really good, I think you're learning it quickly.)" Dae-Sung smiled, holding the door to the car open for you, before climbing in behind you, you sat nervously as the car slowly approached a rather larger home, entering the gate before it came to a complete stop "Holy shit" You whispered, following Dae-Sung as he stepped out of the car "Just stay behind me, He's got a fancy doorbell, so he might check it and see you" He explained smiling, you just nodded excitedly, holding onto his arm as he walked up to the front door, ringing the bell before placing his hand over the camera of the doorbell "Seung Hyunnn!~ It's Dae-Sung!" He called through the door, not wanting to freak his friend out by the lack of view in his camera on the doorbell. As Dae-Sung heard the locks start to undo, he was quick to step back smiling at you "You have to come see us before you leave, have fun! Don't break our Hyung!" Dae-Sung teased before rushing to hide in the car, excitedly watching as Seung Hyun opened the door.

"Aein! What in the world are you doing here!?" Seung Hyun gasped, pulling you into a tight hug, smiling brightly as you hugged back "I wanted to surprise you for your birthday! Did you really think I forgot!?" You giggled, nudging his shoulder slightly as you pulled away softly "Honestly?..A little bit" He smiled, before stepping back opening the door wider to let you in "I would never! You're my best friend, Seung Hyun, of course I'm going to remember your birthday" You smiled, looking around, marveling at how beautiful his home looked in person. "I just- You're here!" He laughed excitedly, hugging you again causing you to giggle loudly "I am! For a whole two weeks!" You smiled, he just hugged you tighter, too excited to do anything else at the moment. You just hugged him back the entire time, feeling your heart swell, not having that many friends or family, you never really had anybody that was ever excited to see you, yes you had fans, but nobody in your personal circle. So Seung Hyun being over the moon excited, made you feel truly loved and wanted, especially whenever Seung Hyun treated you the way he has.

Whenever Seung Hyun finally stopped hugging you, you both sat down on the sofa, smiling as you went through your bag, trying to find the envelope you had managed to keep track of for the last three weeks. You had taken forever with writing it, wanting to make sure you could write it in Korean before you gave it to him. "생일 축하해, 내 사랑 (Happy birthday, my love)" You whispered with a soft smile, Seung Hyun just laughed loudly as you handed him the letter, holding a finger up as he rushed to his bedroom, coming back out with a similar envelope "I swear! We have the same amazing ideas!" You giggled, covering your face as Seung Hyun handed you the letter he had written for you. "Okay, Read them at the same time? Or..?" Seung Hyun smiled softly, you thought for a moment, before moving over to the other side of the living room "Okay, now read it" You giggled opening the folded piece of paper, smiling softly at Seung Hyun's neat but also messy handwriting, it was always cute to you.

'Y/n,

Meeting you was something I never thought I would do, and yet, you walked into my life, and have taken over every thought I've had since then. You're so amazingly sweet and caring, you always know just the thing to make everybody laugh. Your personality is the most beautiful thing I've ever had the honor of experiencing; you've lightened up every dark part of my life, and I can't thank you enough. I've never felt like I was meant to be happy, or like I deserved that much time or effort from people, but just in a handful of months, you've learned a whole new language just to have deeper conversations with me, and that means everything to me and more, sweetheart. you spent almost an entire day making sure you could say 'I love you' perfectly in Korean, for me. You're absolutely breathtaking at every moment of everyday, always stunning me and leaving me speechless, anytime I see you. I've never told you, my love, but you are the most amazing woman I've ever met, the amount of love and care you have for the people you meet, is something that amazes me everyday. Your voice and laugh make my day absolutely amazing, even on my worst ones, and I find myself missing the sound of them almost every day that you're gone and busy. I also find myself falling in love with you, every time I have the honor of speaking with you, Y/n, and I don't know how much longer I can keep it a secret, I want to tell everybody I know and meet how amazing you are. How absolutely thoughtful and selfless you are, and how amazing you make me feel. I love you, Y/n, every single thing about you, I promised that you'd be loved and accepted for yourself before I left to come back home, and little did I know, I'd be the one to fall in love with you.

Yours truly, with all of my love,

Choi Seung Hyun

'Seung Hyun,

I'm not sure how to thank you for everything, you're my saving grace, you found me in a really dark part in life, where I was debating on giving up music as a whole. I was giving up on trying to show the world who I was really was, until you came around. I've always fought my entire life for people to see me as anything other than a 'sexy body' and I didn't even need to try with you, you saw through everything, and I never had anybody do that. Nobody's taken the time to want to talk with me unless it had something in favor of them..but you always seem so excited and happy to talk with me, and the most we've done was flirt together. Seung Hyun, even if you fight me every time I try to tell you, you are a good, amazing, handsome, work of art of a man. You've been through a lot from the stories you've told me, and the fact you're still just as amazing as you are, makes me so proud to call you my best friend. In just the months I've known you, you've changed my life and mind for the better, you've single-handedly showed me I'm so much more than just a voice and body. I used to hate myself, a lot, everybody around me always putting it in my head that I'm stupid, or useless for anything other than performing, that if I don't dress a certain way, I'll be hated; You've changed that though, you helped me see that I'm capable of so much more than people say, that I can be loved and beautiful just the same in either a performance outfit, or my sweatpants and hoodie. You helped me start to love myself again, and it's started making me fall in love with you as well, everything about you makes my life feel so much lighter and happier, like nothing stressful or scary can ever get me whenever I'm around you, I feel safe, loved, and seen, and I have fallen so far in love with you for that, Seung Hyun.

Your favorite American <3

Y/n

As you both finished reading your letters, your gaze met Seung Hyun's, trying your best not to let the sob slip from your lips as you noticed the tears going down his cheeks. "Aein?.." He whispered, wiping the tears on his face the best he could, as he moved to kneel in front of you. You just let yourself cry, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you leaned down, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he tried his best to not cry again from the sounds of your sobs. "You deserve to be happy, My love" You whimpered, clenching the back of his shirt in your fists tightly, trying to calm your breathing as you spoke again "I-I love you, you're so, so sweet to me" You added on, squeezing him tightly before he pulled away, gently wiping the tears from your face "I love you, Aein, but please don't cry" He whispered softly, cupping your cheek as you sniffled slightly "I-I can't help it, y-your letter was really sweet" You whimpered, leaning into his touch as you managed to stop crying after a moment "Thank you...I wrote it the night you said 당신을 사랑해요, 여보 (I love you, honey)" He whispered, caressing your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb, you just blushed softly, hiding your face in your hands as he stood up, moving to sit next to you. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one then, because I wrote that whenever I was learning how to say it" You admitted giggling sheepishly, resting your head on his shoulder as you interlaced your fingers with his. "I meant what I wrote, Y/n..I'm in love with you" He whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead "I know...나도 당신과 사랑에 빠졌어요. (I'm in love with you, too)" You whispered, looking up to meet his gaze smiling softly, blushing whenever you felt his lips connect with yours, Seung Hyun couldn't help it, he wasn't going to lie, whenever you spoke in Korean to him, it made him proud, you had learned that, for him, plus it was pretty hot. As he moved his lips against yours, he couldn't help but smile, slowly pulling away to meet your gaze "You're so amazing" You whispered, panting softly as you tried to catch your breath, Seung Hyun chuckling as he pulled you close to him before leaning back, causing you to fall, laying on his chest. You both laid in silence for a bit, just enjoying the feeling of being around each other again, before you giggled softly "Hey, Seung Hyun?.." You giggled out, smiling as he glanced down at you, through the strands of his hair that had fallen in his face "Hmm?" He hummed softly, running his fingers up and down your back as he waited for a response "Happy birthday..." You whispered, smiling as he chuckled softly "Thank you, Aein, one of the best birthdays I've ever had" He replied, his voice slightly deeper as he started to feel himself growing tired, you just smiled, laying head on his chest again as you rested your hand on the side of his neck, yawning. "I'm happy then" You whispered, taking a deep breath as you felt yourself starting to doze, letting yourself be overtaken by sleep as you held onto Seung Hyun tightly, not wanting to risk this all being a dream.

What do you think, lovelies?! Let me know what you think!! As always, I'm so excited to hear back from you all!! <333

Also! If I got any translations wrong, please let me know! I'm very rusty with Korean, but I am trying to learn! <33

Taglist!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

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