#it's got the vibes of 'what are you willing to do (to) kiss it kiss it better

[paint-music-with-me]

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[misc-obeyme]

Demon Brothers as Doms Headcanons

Here it is, as requested by anon! I don't know if these are better or worse than the demon bros as subs version... I honestly can't tell lol. But hopefully you guys enjoy them. I will be doing the side characters, too, so stay tuned for that.

GN!MC x the demon brothers

Side Characters as Doms Bros as Subs

NSFW MDNI

Note: We got another paragraph of warnings. Some of them are a little more detailed, but most of them are just mentioned.

Warnings: Sub!MC, bondage, blindfolds, gags, multiple orgasms, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, manhandling, begging, praise, degradation, dirty talk, spanking, collars, dacryphilia, tailfucking (and related tail stuff), drooling, jealousy, cockwarming, mirror sex, exhibitionism, toys, aphrodisiacs, magic stuff, blood kink, biting, size kink, food play, somnophilia, wet dreams, semi-public sex, after care, cuddling, and kissing. HOO BOY. I hope that's all of it, if not lemme know and I'll add stuff.

Lucifer

He has intense dom vibes and he knows it. He will be strict and harsh with you if that’s what you want, but if left to his own choices, Lucifer becomes a pleasure dom. All he really wants is to make you come over and over and over again. He doesn’t care what it takes, he’ll use his cock, his fingers, his tongue, anything and everything as long as it makes you cry out his name in ecstasy. He likes the way it makes his pride swell.

He’s a strong and powerful demon. If he wants you in a certain position, he will put you there himself. He has no problem manhandling you a little, but he’ll be careful about it. He very much enjoys tying you up and he’s a master at shibari. His other favorite thing is blindfolding you. He likes when you aren’t aware of when he’s going to touch you.

Lucifer is absolutely the type of demon that will do subtle things outside of the bedroom to make you crazy. A hand on the back of your neck, a brief squeezing of your arm, a whispered “behave” or even just a look that says everything. They’re all warnings - be careful, MC, or he’ll be dealing with you later in private.

He likes to be called sir, but he’s willing to discuss other options. He’s very bossy, though, and will give you orders constantly. If you’re good and compliant, he’ll reward you to the point where you’ll probably forget your own name. But if you’re a brat, he won’t hesitate to punish you. He likes to make you wait, so he might tie you up in his office and then not touch you while he works on his stacks of paperwork. He wants to see how long it takes you to start begging.

And begging does him in every time. Because the minute you break down and beg for him, his pride takes over. He’ll smirk and likely tease you and say something about how he’s not surprised that it didn’t take long.

But in the end, Lucifer likes to make you moan and cry and come, which means he’ll do whatever it takes to get you to do that. Do you have a praise kink? He will shower you with it while he’s deep inside you. Do you have a degradation kink? He will make a point of finding the words that make you clench around him in pleasure.

Mammon

Surprisingly good at being a dom, but far less restrained than Lucifer is. He’s going to do all kinds of things to get a reaction out of you, but the second you moan his name, he’s moaning right along with you. But not before he takes the time to get your full consent and makes sure you know all your safe words. He wants to go all out, but he wants you to feel safe with him.

Mammon is a bit too impatient to do things like tying you up intricately. He’s going to go for things like handcuffs or gags. He finds he likes the way you moan low in your throat when your mouth is otherwise occupied. Similarly, he loves when you suck on his fingers. He’ll remove them sooner than he expected, though, because he wants to listen to you beg.

He’s cautious at first, giving you easy orders to test the waters. If you’re generally obedient, he’ll push a little harder, go a little further, see just how much you can take. He will absolutely become a brat tamer, though, so if you’re more inclined to mouth off, you can expect swift punishment. He can’t take too much disobedience and he’ll get impatient with you quickly. Punishments can range from spankings to orgasm denial depending on how irritated he is. But they don’t last long because he just really wants to fuck you silly.

He’s constantly buying you things to wear. He obviously has a preference for gold, but whatever he just likes to see you on display in something nice. If you’ll wear a collar, he will absolutely be thrilled to buy you the nicest one he can find. It makes him a little crazy any time he catches a glimpse of it outside the bedroom.

The King of After Care. When things are calm again, he gets very clingy. He’s going to want to cuddle you all night, whispering in your ear about how good you were for him, asking you if you’re doing all right. If you endured punishment or any kind of pain, he’ll make sure you’re recovering from it. He just loves you so much, MC.

Leviathan

Surprises both you and himself by being a really good dom. It’s like he flips a switch and suddenly he’s all confidence, but it’s only possible with you. However, it can also get really intense really fast and he might not realize how far he’s going. Communication is key with Levi. You need it to even get him to start being more dominant to begin with, but then you also need it when he’s a little lost in the sauce.

Because he finds that dominating you makes him lose his whole mind. When you’re whimpering or begging, he just wants more and more. He loves to hear you whine his name. He likes it when you cry, so he will try to make it happen. He’ll use pain or insults or anything else he can find that will work. But if it does happen, he’ll get soft when he sees the tears on your cheeks. Then he’ll start praising you and telling you how perfect you are and how much he loves you.

He likes to use his tail for all kinds of things. He’ll wrap it around your body, pinning your arms to your sides, and put the tip of it in your mouth until you’re drooling around it. He’ll use it to spank you if he thinks you’re in need of punishment. But his favorite thing is just to fuck you with it.

To nobody’s surprise at all, Levi is a jealous dom. If you so much as look at someone else, he will notice and make you pay for it later. His favorite punishment method is orgasm denial. He’s trying to make you forget about anyone but him and he’ll ask you while he’s edging you who you’re thinking of. He wants to hear you cry and tell him that he’s the only one you ever think about.

Levi will definitely start out with degradation and some dirty talk - he’s likely going to tell you how much of a whore you are for him - but by the end of things, he’ll switch to praise. He starts to come out of dom mode and then he actually feels bad. Depending on how you react, he will likely apologize before pampering you to make up for all the nasty things he said. If you laugh at him about it, he’ll just blush. He gets embarrassed about how much he can lose himself. Don’t hold it against him, MC! He’s just obsessed with you.

Satan

By far the most balanced dom of all the brothers. He’s always so careful about keeping his wrath under control, the very last thing he would ever want to do is give in to it during a scene with you. It’s a tricky balance, but he manages to find a good middle ground. He focuses on you the most, but don’t think that means he’ll be lenient with you.

Satan is really good at interpreting how you’re feeling in the moment based on how you react to him. He’s able to tell when he should get more intense and when he should back off. As for himself, he prefers to control you with words. He’ll tie you up if you want him to, but he’s more interested in simply telling you what to do. And he’s clear about what will happen if you disobey.

Although he’s careful about keeping himself level headed when he’s punishing you, just know that he won’t hold back. There really isn’t any kind of punishment he isn’t willing to employ and he’ll find the one that has the most impact on you while still getting his message across.

Definitely prefers praise over degradation. He will be rambling the whole time he’s doing anything with you and it’s all romantic poetry. It starts out really flowery, but eventually kind of devolves into how perfect you are, how good you feel, etc. This is the guy who will spank you and recite sonnets to you at the same time, probably timing his swats with the iambic pentameter.

Satan also really enjoys cockwarming. He’ll have you sit in his lap while he reads, just to see how much you can take. Scolds you gently any time you move too much. Be good and hold still for him, MC. In the end, he’s the one who can’t take it, but he frames it as taking pity on you. You’re both probably aware of the truth, but neither of you will say anything. And anyway, you’re content to let him bend you over and pound into you if it means finally feeling that sweet relief.

Asmodeus

The most versatile of doms, he can be anything you want. You want him strict? Done. You prefer a soft dom? Easy. You just want him to make you come as many times as possible? It would be his pleasure.

If you’re too shy to tell him what you want, that’s okay, too. He’s able to feel out what will make you react the most. And that’s what he goes for. He just wants to experience you losing your mind over him.

He really can do it all, but he’s also going to bring his own flare to the situation. You have sooo much mirror sex. If you’re willing to try exhibitionism, he will really push the limits of that, too.

Asmo will also have a lot of toys, accessories, and clothing items. He’s always suggesting something new and interesting. You just won't believe what he found, MC! He likes to explore with you, to see what you’ll tolerate. This also includes things like aphrodisiacs or magic related things. He’ll always take care of you after you use something like that, but he’s often finding new things to try.

If you don’t really give him any guidelines and let him run the show entirely, he will step up to the challenge. It turns out he really enjoys making you submit to him. He finds he has a fascination with your blood. He loves the way it looks against your skin. He also loves to see it on his own lips, so you can be sure he’ll be drawing it by biting you.

Asmo really loves to tie you up and have his way with you. He enjoys sensory deprivation - blindfold, gag, etc. - he likes to keep you guessing. He wants you to react to his touch the most, loves the way you shiver in anticipation of what he’ll do next.

Mixes pleasure and pain so effectively, you almost can’t tell which one you’re experiencing. He’ll be using his fingers masterfully on your sensitive spots at the same time that he’ll be digging his nails into your back.

This is his area of expertise, so there’s no way he’s going to let you go with only one orgasm. He’s going to make sure you have multiple before he's done with you. He loves overstimulation. If you start crying, he’ll coo at you and wipe your tears, but he won’t stop.

Always doms in demon form. He can’t help it, he’s fully embodying his sin. No matter what he’s doing with you, he wants you to remember that you’re being dominated by the Avatar of Lust.

Beelzebub

The softest of soft doms. He’s not really into degradation, so he’s going to shower you with praise instead. He’s just going to mumble into your skin about how amazing you are and how lucky he is and so on and so forth. But don’t think that makes him a pushover.

Beel is a big strong demon and he will manhandle you. Probably his favorite thing is to just sit you in his lap and move you himself. You’re riding him, but he’s doing all the work.

He’ll tie you up if you want him to, but he’s more likely to use things like blindfolds or gags. Only one at a time, he doesn’t want you completely helpless. He secretly likes it when you struggle against him, so he likes to keep your hands free.

Beel has a bit of a size kink where he likes his partners smaller than him, which works out because he’s just generally much larger than most people. Even if you’re larger for a human, that’s still just a lil cutie to him. This kinda ties into the manhandling thing - he likes to pick you up and move you around himself. And he can do it, too, because of his size and strength. You might as well get used to it at this point.

He doesn't really enjoy inflicting pain. He's far more likely to use positive reinforcement than punishments. But if he has to get serious with you, it's going to be stuff like edging, orgasm denial, or overstimulation. If you're crying it's because of how he's making you feel, not because he's hurting you or insulting you. He finds it's just as effective, too.

If you ask, Beel will do pretty much anything you want. He'll work through the discomfort of hurting you if you enjoy it.

As always, Beel loves food. He'll involve any kind of food play he possibly can because he really can't help himself. It's like the ultimate expression of his sin - to involve food in these intimate moments with you.

Another one who will be incredibly attentive during after care. He wants to make sure you're okay. He will stay beside you as long as you need him. Probably brings you drinks and snacks, too. He's already been praising you all night, but prepare yourself for even more. You are everything to him, MC.

Belphegor

Kinda lazy for a dom, to nobody’s great surprise. He enjoys being one, but he tires out quickly. If he can make you do all the work, he will. Expect him to give you a lot of orders.

He really loves when you beg. He wants to see you on your knees and if you beg enough, he’ll fill your mouth with his cock. You look so good, MC.

He’ll leave you tied up and unattended, too. He’ll just sit there and watch you, see how much you can handle before he does anything.

Belphie is, of course, into somnophilia. If you give him the go ahead, it’s going to be any time he wakes up with you in his arms. If you’re still sleeping soundly, he wants you to stay asleep, he’ll just take care of things himself. But if you do wake up, he'll probably whisper quietly in your ear about how he's just making all your wet dreams come true. In fact, we also know Belphie can go into dreams, so… you can expect your normal dreams to become wet dreams if he shows up.

He likes exhibitionism and semi-public sex. He likes fucking you in places where you’re right next to other people, but you’re still trying to stay hidden. So he’ll use his hand to cover your mouth, trying to muffle your noises. But it’s only because he likes the way it feels to gag you that way. He doesn’t actually mind if you’re discovered.

He likes dirty talk and degradation. He will absolutely call you all kinds of filthy names. It’s not all like that, though, he’ll also throw in some praise. Especially when you’re whimpering beneath him and he's losing control because he feels so good. That's when he starts telling you how good you are.

Belphie is kind of an after care guy by default. After he's had his way with you, even if he was really rough (which he probably was), he just wants to snuggle and cuddle and sleep. He'll also kiss you slowly and softly and lazily because he likes the way your lips feel.

side characters as doms | bros as subs | side characters as subs masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[kamaluhkhan]

GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you wanted revenge on luke castellan)

read part one — THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis!reader (afab, she/her pronouns)

summary: you were very angry and possibly still in love with luke castellan. kill him or kiss him — you still weren't sure what he deserved.

warnings/disclaimers: spoilers for season 1 of pjo + lots of book references. reader + luke are around 21 for most of this. rough? smut (p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, etc...) 18 + MDNI ! injuries + blood + violence. reader and others drink alcohol + smoke. lots of angst!!! luke + reader have matching tattoos. twilight + other pop culture references. reader kinda gives 'hell is a teenage girl in her 20s' vibes. maybe slightly toxic dynamic between reader + luke but we love complicated relationships ♡

author's note: thank u so much for all the love on part one!! i got a bit carried away with this one oops, but i hope y'all enjoy it :)

♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo

(i. he had a savior complex) 

if you were less consumed by anger, you might have noticed the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you. 

no one was supposed to go into the forest alone, but you were 17 and reckless and not at all concerned about breaking the rules, especially if it meant proving clarisse larue wrong.  

you ventured into the woods, farther than you'd ever been before, with nothing except your knife and a chest full of determination to prove that you were strong and brave just like any other demigod, regardless of if you had a cabin or not. 

you were younger then, less disillusioned, and more willing to buy into those fantasies of power and glory, spoon-fed to demigods as truth. one that you hoped to cross off that afternoon: being worthy of attention if you could sink your blade into the next monster that dared to cross your path.

everyone would see that you’re not just some little, powerless girl with no reason to be at camp. 

and, sure, there was a small but not insignificant part of you that hoped your mother was watching, that she’d finally notice how much of a hero you could be.

you could have died that afternoon. you put up a decent fight, but soon enough you found yourself fallen to the forest floor: blade down, broken arm, bleeding out. a manticore inches away from sending you to the underworld. 

you weren’t angry anymore, the adrenaline had left your body. you just were a scared child, silently praying to deities you hoped wouldn’t look away like they always do. 

i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it. 

you closed your eyes, waited for your fate, and just when you thought all hope was lost — 

the sound of a sword ripping through flesh, an injured growl, and then nothing but your ragged breathing. 

your eyelids fluttered open.

it wasn't your mother, or any of the other gods, who jumped in to save your life.

standing in the middle of the clearing, gripping his sword, was luke castellan. 

he tucked annabeth’s invisibility cap into his back pocket and brought you to the infirmary.

"she's okay, though?" luke asked. he was watching you carefully, ashes from the manticore dusting his orange camp shirt. his arms were crossed, and it seemed that he managed to defeat the monster relatively unscathed.

lee fletcher, son of apollo, nodded as he set your injury. 

"nothing more than a broken arm and minor concussion. make sure your girl gets lots of rest, okay? no more monster hunting. probably has to sit out capture the flag tomorrow, too.”

you ignored the churning in your stomach when lee assumed you were luke’s girl. luke didn’t bother correcting him. 

lee left to get you some ambrosia to speed the healing process, leaving you and luke alone in the room. 

“you know, i’m not a damsel in distress you have to follow around, waiting to save. i’m not your girl.” 

“seriously?” he raised an eyebrow, but his cheeks became slightly flushed. “you would be dead if it wasn’t for me. i heard what happened with clarisse, but gods — you didn’t have to go and get yourself killed to prove something.” 

he was right, of course. part of you wanted to argue with him for always having to be the hero, but the fight lingering in your throat wasn’t enough to act on. you just sighed and looked away, feeling too impulsive and powerless and exhausted down to your bones. 

you felt the bed dip beside you, and then a hand on your shoulder. it was warmer than usual, but the calloused skin still felt familiar on yours.

“they’re not worth it, okay? that’s what you’re always telling me.”

luke’s voice was lower than before, a touch of bitterness laced through.

“yeah, well you never believe it,” you replied, voice hollow. “so why should i?” 

clarisse entered the infirmary before he could answer. luke was instantly on his feet, blocking you from her view, hand on the hilt of his sword.

“what are you doing here?” he practically growled. 

“i heard what happened,” clarisse explained, looking past luke to catch your eye. you waved at her with your newly applied cast. “i’m sorry about what i said earlier, if that had anything to do with it.”

at that point, you were still trying to figure out where you stood with clarisse. she had arrived at camp just before the new year. you’d been so used to new campers being younger than you, and it was nice to have someone the same age to be friends with. 

it wasn’t until the start of march, around two weeks ago, that ares had claimed her. ever since, there had been a newfound animosity between you, leading up to your explosive argument earlier that day. part of you had a feeling she was just trying to fit in with her siblings. it was a subtle thread woven throughout the camp, especially with the ares kids: this hierarchy of power according to the gods, with you on the lower end because your mother was only a minor goddess. 

needless to say, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before; it was just that the words pierced through your thick skin when coming from a friend. 

but the very fact that she came to visit you, that she apologized and seemed to regret that you’d gotten hurt, healed you more than the ambrosia lee was just coming back to give you. 

“thanks, clarisse,” you said after a mouthful of ambrosia. 

even with an established truce, luke didn’t move away from you. in fact, he puffed his chest out a bit more. 

“if you say anything like that to her again, i swear to all the gods —”

“i just said sorry, castellan,” clarisse scoffed. “now get out of the way so i can sign her cast.” 

clarisse attempted to move closer, but luke stayed planted where he was.

“you are not getting anywhere close to her,” luke warned. 

“easy, tiger.” you got up to put your hand on his arm, but luke jerked away from your touch. your fingers brushed against his skin however, and even that brief moment was enough to shock you with its temperature. you tried again, this time bringing a hand to his neck, and he let out a hiss upon contact. his pulse seemed quicker than normal.

“are you feeling okay?”

“i’m just fine,” he huffed, and stormed out of the infirmary.

a few days later, you were training with clarisse, when silena beauregard ran into the arena and interrupted you.

“it’s luke,” she coughed, out of breath. “he’s in the infirmary—”

you sprinted towards the big house before silena could finish her sentence. 

when you reached the infirmary, luke was being held back by lee and a few others, screaming that he needed to go find you or you’d die. he was holding his sword, and campers wrestled to remove it from his grip. the sleeve of his shirt lifted up slightly, and that was when you noticed it: a gash across his bicep, shallow, but turning a sickly green. the rest of his skin was flushed, his eyes frantically searching for someone — you — and he was breathing heavily between sentences.

it turned out that he’d gone the entire week with the wound festering. one of the manticore’s spikes must have grazed luke, and he hadn’t thought much of it because he was so focused on making sure you were okay. 

manticore poison could fuck with someone’s mind if not treated right away. worse: it could be fatal. 

despite your heart beating out of your chest and the chaos you walked into, you kept your voice gentle, but firm.

“luke.”

for a moment, everything stood still. luke froze, and the campers took the opportunity to get a better hold on him.

he blinked at you and shook his head. “no. no. you’re not her. i heard her screaming from the forest and - and she’s in trouble. i need to —”

“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him. 

you approached him carefully and, despite some whispers of warning, you gestured at everyone to let go of him completely. they might have had a point, because as soon as they did, the tip of his sword was dangerously close to your chin. 

“you’re not her,” he insisted. “you’re just some monster trying to trick me.”

you stood in front of him then, and slowly raised your arm to show him your cast. a few people had signed it — beckendorf, chris, clarisse, silena. luke had signed his name too, of course, along with a poor attempt at a cartoon tiger that made you all laugh. 

“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”

there were a few moments when you held your breath, feeling the celestial bronze dig into your skin a bit more. and then:

“it’s…you. you’re….okay?” 

luke’s speech was slightly slurred. he dropped his sword like it suddenly weighed a thousand pounds; it nicked you on its way down. you didn’t care though, because luke almost fell to the ground, too. 

you gripped his wrist to steady him. 

“you’re probably not okay, though,” you explained, well aware of the urgency of the situation. his pulse felt weaker by the second, his skin burning against yours. 

“i’m….i’m fine. i just need to — she’s gonna die if i don’t —”

“i’m right here. i’m here because you already saved me, remember? you saved me, but you got hurt.”

 he shook his head slowly, and his eyes started to flutter close. 

“no, i’m okay,” he breathed, his voice smaller than you’d ever heard it. “i need to make sure y/n is okay. she needs me….” 

you swallowed the lump in your throat, seeing him start to fade away right in front of you. 

you refused to lose hope. 

no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.

“i’m here, luke.” you gripped his wrist even tighter to remind him.

“but —” 

“just rest for a minute, ” you insisted, guiding him towards a bed. “for me, okay?” 

as soon as you managed to get luke onto the bed and, more importantly, calm, everyone else sprung back into action. 

chiron was away for the week, so will solace — one of the younger apollo campers, but probably the best healer at camp — used some healing magic, while lee misted luke with cold water to cool him down and another kid dripped some nectar onto his wound.

luke hissed when the liquid seeped into his skin and reached out for you. you felt like the flesh might melt right off your bones, but you let him squeeze your hand for as long as he needed. somebody came around to put a bandage on your chin, too.

you'd always resented the gods, but that was the first time you'd really lost your faith in them. watching luke fight for his life even after saving yours, other demigods joining the battle, and you thinking: this is the life you cursed us with. you imagined the gods, with power to twist fate in their favor, simply enjoying a feast on mount olympus, hermes sipping nectar and not even aware that another one of his children is dying. you supposed your mother wasn’t any better either. her neglect felt like revenge for something you didn’t even know you had done.

after a while, the skin around luke’s wound lost its greenish hue. you released a deep breath when both lee and will declared that luke seemed to be on the mend — he just needed to get some rest, and, best case scenario, the poison should have run its course by morning.

you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.

you estimated it was around 2 am when you heard luke’s voice again.

“cold,” was all he said through shivering teeth. 

you wordlessly grabbed as many blankets as you could, and tucked them around luke. you waited a few minutes to see if it helped.

“so - so cold,” he shivered again. you reached out to check luke’s pulse, and all you could find was the faintest heartbeat. his skin looked pale in the moonlight and now felt ice cold despite his high fever earlier. 

no one else was in the infirmary then. you were wracking your brain to remember what you had learned in demigod survival class about hypothermia. something about warm drinks? you ran to the kitchen and made him a cup of hot chocolate — with cinnamon, just how he liked it. 

you whispered his name once you were back at his bedside. his eyelids fluttered open. you tried coaxing him to take the drink, but he wouldn’t even hold the mug. you didn’t think twice about climbing into bed next to him, gently sitting him upright against the headboard so that you could offer him tiny sips. you noticed then that he was still only wearing a tank top, so you took off your sweatshirt — which happened to be one of luke’s — and slid it on him. 

when the hot chocolate was done, luke sighed. some of the color returned to his face, and his teeth stopped chattering. 

“thanks, karma.”

you just hummed in response, setting the mug down on the nightstand beside you and twisting underneath the blankets. luke settled back down next to you. he brushed his thumb over the band-aid on your chin. 

“what happened? did clarisse —”

“easy, tiger. it’s nothing — just a little scratch,” you replied. 

you spared him from the whole truth. sure, there was a moment earlier when you didn’t know whether or not luke would hurt you. it was only a split second, because that wasn’t your luke. he shouldn’t have had to live with the guilt of something he did by accident, as a result of a poisoned mind.

“anyways, i should be thanking you. you’re the one who almost died saving my life. you were hanging by a thread just a few seconds ago. it seems like you’re not completely out of the woods yet.”

“well, i guess the fates are still deciding what to do with me.” he cracked a smile. 

it was a bit morbid, given what you’d been through the past 12 hours, and the fact that the manticore venom clearly hadn’t left his body completely. the possibility of his death had not completely disappeared, though you supposed that, as demigods, the risk always remained higher. 

fuck the gods. they weren’t your protectors. they weren’t your family. 

the campers who put their whole heart into healing you and luke, the boy who risked his life for you — they were your family. 

you took luke’s humor as a good sign. the luke castellan you knew — confident banter, radiant grin, heart of gold — was coming back to you. 

the luke castellan you would not allow die, even if you could still feel the cool bronze of his blade linger on your chin. 

(ii. he had an ego)

according to annabeth chase, it was statistically improbable for a demigod to reach drinking age. something always kills them first - a monster, a blade, a fatal flaw. the likelihood of survival only gets exponentially lower with each passing year.

she repeated that information to luke on the morning of his 21st birthday.

“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.” 

annabeth shrugged and hugged him before walking back to the athena table to finish breakfast. 

"you hear that, tiger?” you pointed a syrupy fork at luke. “you are literally saying fuck you to fate, just by being alive." 

"that’s the way i like it," luke quipped, and stole a blueberry from your plate. 

"hey man, happy birthday." chris patted luke’s shoulder on his way to sit across from you and luke. "so, i just talked to chiron and he agreed to let us go out tonight." 

you smiled between bites of your pancakes, reaching over to offer chris a triumphant fist bump.

“nice work, rodriguez.” 

"we're going out tonight?"

you pressed your knee to luke's under the table. 

"of course we are," you hummed. "we have a lot to celebrate." 

so, you, luke, chris, and a few of your friends — beckendorf, silena, and clarisse — went into the city to celebrate. one of luke's favorite bands was playing, and you had managed to snag a few tickets. you'd all entered a bar confidently that night, the fake ids you were at once so giddy and paranoid about no longer needed. 

there were few times when you could all just kick back and have fun, without having to worry about the responsibilities of being senior counselors. that night, you were all itching for a taste of freedom. or, at least, some alcohol. 

"happy birthday to the one and only luke castellan: a hero by any other name!" 

everyone raised their shot glasses, echoed beckendorf's words, and threw back their drinks. 

the night became louder, more vibrant. yet, even as you laughed and drank and danced with your friends, there was a heaviness lingering in your chest.

for most demigods, birthdays were bittersweet. each one served as a reminder of time running out because of exactly what annabeth said that morning. most half-bloods don’t even live past their teens, let alone the age of 20. you had the blood of gods flowing in your veins, and your lives were influenced by sinister, divine forces from ancient times. you were the new generation of heroes, protagonists of those greek tragedies that made mortals weep.

there was no guarantee that this would last forever, but all of your friends —  the people you loved — had beat the odds. 

so, who would blame you for getting a little sentimental? 

beckendorf and chris had wandered off to play pool, in hopes of winning some bets and free drinks. clarisse was flirting with some girl who caught her eye, and silena went to grab some water after having danced for a bit. you and luke were still in the crowd, swaying to the music. for one glorious moment, you were just a group of twenty-one year olds enjoying a carefree night out. 

under the flashing lights, you stole a glimpse at luke. he wore a simple white tank top and ripped jeans, paired with a leather jacket and some rings he borrowed from you so he could, in his words, look more punk-rock. his curls were messy, his skin glittering with a thin sheen of sweat. the chain he layered with his usual camp necklace caught the multicolored light and highlighted the sharp angles of his collarbones. 

whatever aesthetic he was going for, luke looked good. based on various eyes following him throughout the room, you assumed others thought the same as well. it made you just a little bit furious, feeling that he wasn't only yours to admire. 

“you good?” luke’s voice cut through the noise, but he had to lean in close.  

his fingers brushed against the section of waist exposed by your cropped top. you’d gotten so warm that you had to tie your flannel around your waist, but luke’s touch sent a shiver through your body. it made you somewhat dizzy, feeling the cold metal of those rings on your skin. even moreso, when you realized how much you wanted to kiss your best friend, sink your teeth into his smirk and taste the mint chapstick and tequila on his lips. 

to be fair, you and luke had crossed that line before, and you were in the fields of asphodel ever since. 

not quite friendship, not quite romance. something deeper, more volatile and electric. 

you didn’t want to make things blurrier than they already were, though. whatever you acted on that night could have just been dismissed the next morning as a drunken mistake.

so, you just nodded at him and turned back towards the band as though you were never thinking about anything more than the music. 

after a few more songs, luke commanded your attention once more.

“hey, didn’t you once say you wanted to start a band?”

“what do i look like, a child of apollo?” you joked, but luke raised an eyebrow at you, clearly wanting a serious answer.

it was slightly alarming, how well he knew you; through your childhood dreams and down to your core. 

“in another life,” you conceded. “maybe.”

“in another life,” luke echoed. he leaned in close again. “you’d be a pretty hot drummer, and i’d be front row at every show.”

your lips could have touched if you moved your head just an inch, but he pulled away before you did. he was giving you that classic son-of-hermes smirk, the one that made everyone swoon. 

the thing was, you were sure that luke knew the effect he had on people. you had seen him continuously bask in the praise of chiron and other campers, always preening for the crowd's attention, as if he had to do anything more than smile. everyone loved luke — he was handsome, charismatic, strong.

and, yeah, you weren’t immune. your fatal flaw: not loyalty, or anger, or recklessness, but luke castellan’s charm.

you had to keep yourself grounded. it would be a bad idea to cross that line again on his birthday, right? 

luke licked his lips as you kept staring at him. you could tell he was waiting for you to do something. 

maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the rhythm of the music vibrating through your bones, but you started thinking — fuck it. 

before you could act on that impulse, some person with bright red hair stepped between you and luke. she introduced herself, telling luke she saw him from across the room, and she'd been watching him all night, and would he by any chance want to dance with her?

luke seemed flattered, interested even. he flashed her the very same smile he had just given you, which left a bitter taste in your mouth. you excused yourself before you had to hear them flirt even more. 

you walked over to silena at the bar. she had a half-empty glass of ice water melting in front of her, her attention somewhere else. you sat down beside her and followed her gaze to what — who — she was looking at. 

“if confessing feelings to someone is hard for aphrodite’s daughter, then there’s really no hope for the rest of us,” you tell her.

silena whipped her head towards you. her cheeks were flushed a light pink. 

“i - i don’t have feelings for clarisse.”

“lena, please. we all know. well, except maybe clarisse.”

“what?” she blinked at you, eyeshadow shimmering in the light.

“yeah,” you said with a small laugh. the irony of it all: the head counselor of cabin 10  denying that she was in love with someone. “we talk about it all the time.”

“well,” silena huffed, cheeks now a bright red. “i guess i should tell you that the rest of us talk about you and luke.” 

you reached over to grab her water, your throat suddenly dry. 

“what about us?” you asked after finishing the drink in one long sip. 

“about how you obviously both have feelings for each other. half the camp already thinks you’re dating.”

you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen. 

“well, we aren’t.” 

that reality hurt more than the sharp pain piercing your brain from ingesting too much cold, too fast. you couldn’t even spot luke in the crowd — he and the redhead had probably gone off to some private corner. 

“people think love’s a joke,” silena sighed. “but they don’t realize how much power it can have over a person. it can make people —”

“cowards?” you suggested.

silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”

neither of you said anything for a while, two love-sick half-bloods slumped over a sticky bar counter.

suddenly, silena sat up straight. she tied her black hair up into a ponytail. perfect, of course, along with her makeup. you were sure you had sweat off the glitter she had applied to your cheeks earlier. 

“i am not a coward.” 

without another word, silena got up and glided towards clarisse, and you were left with an empty stool next to you. 

part of you was proud of her for following her heart. the other part couldn’t stop picturing someone else’s tongue down luke’s throat. 

“can i get a ginger-ale, please?” you asked no one in particular, hoping that the bartender heard your request for something to ease your nausea. 

“you sure you don’t want anything stronger?” 

someone slid onto the barstool next to you. he looked around your age, wearing a navy and red rugby shirt. he had what looked like a pretty expensive watch on his wrist, and he was already leaning in way too close for a stranger. 

“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.

“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.” 

you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.

the guy next to you didn’t care. he snapped to get the bartender’s attention. “two vodka tonics, please. that’s your drink, right? i’m usually pretty good at guessing.”

“dude, i said i’m fine,” you repeated through clenched teeth.

the bartender set two drinks in front of you and rugby shirt pointed towards them.

“well, i already got you a drink, so you at least owe me a conversation.” he slid the drink closer to you.

"i don't owe you anything." 

"oh, come on," rugby shirt cooed. "i don't bite." he slipped his hand underneath your skirt, nails scratching along the skin of your upper thigh, through your fishnets.

you growled at the contact and stood up abruptly, more than a little coincidentally knocked the glass over. the liquid splashed onto him. his flirtatious grin melted right off his face.

“jesus christ —you bitch,” he spat. “this is what i get for trying to be nice?”

“that’s what you get for trying to grope me,” you snapped. “but i could do a lot worse if you’re in the mood.”

his face was a pissed-off shade of red, his mouth formulating a response when —

you felt luke’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. you side-eyed him, and ignored the hickey blooming at the base of his neck.

“is there a problem here?” luke’s voice was firm, steady. 

it seemed like all the fight left rugby shirt’s body, and he put his hands up in surrender. 

“oh, sorry dude. i didn’t realize she was taken.”

you rolled your eyes. figured that this guy would only back off if there was a jealous boyfriend in the mix. 

“it’s fine, i’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“that’s for sure,” the guy continued. “your girl practically bit my head off for being nice and buying her a drink.”

your fingers tightened into a fist.

“that is not —”

“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”

“luke, what are you —”

“let me handle this, baby,” he hummed. “trust me, she’s normally a good girl. she just gets….harder to control after one too many drinks.” 

“i am this close to throwing my next drink at you,” you insisted. 

you weren't naive. you knew luke was putting on an act, but you weren't sure why he felt the need to appease this jerk and put you down in the process. 

you hated the way he was acting now — arrogant, condescending, borderline sexist. you wanted to storm off, you really did, but that would mean having to tear yourself away from luke, and.... you didn't hate the firm hold he had on you. 

he chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the guy knowingly, like they were the closest friends. 

“see what i mean?”

“that’s quite the firecracker you got there,” the guy complimented, as though you were a prize luke had won. “those are the ones you gotta keep on a tight leash, though.”

oh, your patience was wearing thin. if luke didn't take care of this guy soon….

“don’t i know it.” luke laughed when you barred your teeth at him. “look, we all came here to have a good time. why don’t you go join your friends again, and i’ll send over some drinks.”

rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded. 

“alright. thanks, man. and sorry again for the….confusion.” 

luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.

"no hard feelings. i'll be sure to keep her on a tighter leash, though."

rugby shirt walked away, laughing. you were just about ready to bite luke's head off.

you shoved luke away from you. your whole body felt like it was on fire. 

“luke castellan, i don’t care if it’s your birthday, if you ever talk to me like that again, i swear to all the gods —” you faltered when luke’s lips curled into a smirk. 

that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.

“what?” 

“i’m just waiting until you’re done chewing me out,” he said, clearly a bit amused. “you done?”

you hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “for now, i guess.”

“good, because we have about 2 minutes before our misogynistic frat buddy over there notices that something’s missing.”

he lifted his hand to show off the real prize of the night. 

“you did all of that….. to steal the guy’s watch?”

“well, duh. he was being a jerk and i’m the prince of thieves, karma. gotta use my powers for good.” 

luke winked at you as you stared at him in awe. 

“we really should go though. the others are waiting for us outside.” 

you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.

"what about the redhead?"

luke flushed, adjusted his collar to hide the hickey. "i kinda lost interest when she said i was hot for an asian guy."

"oh." you ignored the triumph in your gut. "sounds like a jerk, too." 

"whatever." luke shrugged. "hard to find the good ones, right?" 

luke turned towards the exit.

"wait.” you tugged him back, and luke looked confused for a split second. “you're one of the good ones, luke castellan. did i ever tell you how incredibly happy i am that you were born?" 

luke grinned. "you could stand to say it more often."

his smile was infectious. you liked this side of luke: protective, mischievous, a bit of a trouble-maker. 

it made you want to kiss him all over again.

(iii. he lied without flinching)

you couldn’t find luke anywhere. 

he wasn’t at the climbing wall, or the arena, or the forge. luke seemed to have a knack at vanishing when you needed him most.

when you finally found him, he was outside the big house, in what seemed to be a somewhat heated conversation with chris and a new camper, ethan nakamura. 

ethan nakamura, son of nemesis. you were shocked when your mother’s symbol — swords crossed underneath a set of scales — appeared over his head after two weeks of staying at the hermes cabin. 

you were still getting used to having a younger half-brother. 

“hey,” you greeted the trio, slightly out of breath from running all over camp. as soon as you joined them, a silence fell over the group. “i was looking for you everywhere, tiger. what’s going on here?”

“actually, we were just —”

“nakamura,” luke spoke ethan’s name like a warning. 

“i’m just saying, maybe we should consider —”

luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance. 

“i already said no. end of discussion.”

“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.

the trio was silent again, and you eyed each of them suspiciously.

“okay, seriously. what’s —”

“we’ll talk more about this later, guys,” luke interrupted. his tone was commanding. ethan and chris dispersed. 

once they were gone, you furrowed your brows at luke, not sure what they would be talking about that could make him speak so harshly. 

“what was that about?” you asked for the third time.

“nothing important.” luke gave you a smile that seemed to stretch a bit thin. “you said you were looking for me everywhere. wanna go makeout in the hermes cabin? i’m pretty sure it’ll be empty this time of day.”

you shook your head, no matter how tempting the offer. the scene you walked into made you so uneasy that you completely forgot there was something important you needed to tell luke.

“percy and annabeth just iris-messaged me,” you explained. 

“oh,” he quirked an eyebrow at you. “is their quest going alright?”

you repeated everything the kids had told you: medusa, the chimera, ares. clarisse maybe being the lightning thief. luke had to sit down on the stairs leading to the big house when you spoke that last part. you understood why — clarisse was your friend. 

sitting down next to him, you sighed.

“you don’t think….you don’t think it could be true, do you?” 

clarisse was hot-headed, sure, maybe a bit impulsive, but a war between the gods? that didn’t seem her style. 

you hoped luke would assure you, but instead he said:

luke ran a hand through his hair. “it would make sense.”

“what?”

he leaned in close, voice low.

“clarisse was there with us during our field trip to olympus in december. the gods are arrogant enough to leave their stuff in the throne room, and there’s not really any security. she could have easily snuck in when everyone was sleeping. clarisse….” luke let out a heavy breath. “clarisse is the lightning thief.”

“no. no. she wouldn’t —”

“it makes sense, karma,” luke insisted. he placed a hand on your knee. “clarisse is angry at the gods.”

“we all are,” you pointed out.

“well, sure, but her dad is ares. how else do you get the god of war’s attention if not starting a war?”

you took a second to process luke’s reasoning. maybe he did have a point. it was just that sharp pain in your chest keeping you from believing it. 

“we don’t know anything for sure,” you decided. “and until we do….we don’t tell anyone. especially chiron.”

luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile. 

“sounds like a plan.” he moved in closer and whispered: “now, how about we sneak away, and i do that thing with my tongue that makes you squirm?” 

you felt something tighten in your lower abdomen. you and luke were still in the sneaking-around-camp stage of your relationship; you both got a thrill from it.

at the time, you figured luke was just offering you a much needed distraction.

he kissed just below your ear to sweeten the deal — and how were you supposed to resist?

you didn’t even question how luke knew when the bolt was stolen, let alone how he seemed to have the theft already planned out perfectly.

(iv. he hid behind a pretty face and perfect teeth)

 it had been a little over a week since people around camp — including percy, annabeth, and grover, who had gotten back from their quest — found out about you and luke, together. apparently your friends had a bet going, meaning that everyone other than silena was less than thrilled about your announcement. they warmed up to the idea since then.

it still felt a little bit surreal calling luke castellan your boyfriend. 

luke often played the role of the perfect demigod, the one everyone should strive to be. he paid extra attention to new campers and made them feel welcomed. he did his chores on time, stepped in if more hands were needed for kitchen patrol, and spent hours going through reports for chiron. he taught sword-fighting and encouraged younger campers to keep practicing. he did participate in the occasional prank, that mischievous child of hermes streak impossible not to indulge in, but it only made everyone adore him even more. because luke was responsible, but not boring. he was incredibly skilled and driven, but also gracious. he was sensible and charismatic. 

you watched that luke — camp half-blood’s golden boy, the hero everyone either wanted to be, befriend, or date — and you were in awe. mostly, you wondered how he managed to bury the anger and resentment you knew was churning inside him, the same anger and resentment you sometimes let slip through. 

no, you were not as careful as golden boy luke, who showed no malice towards the olympians. to chiron, to everyone else, luke castellan respected the gods, honored them in everything he did, and taught others to do the same. 

that was not the luke who sucked a bruise onto your neck while suggesting something even you might consider blasphemous. 

“we can’t just - uh,” you had to catch your breath when luke slipped his thumb underneath the band of your sports bra. “we’d get in trouble, tiger.”

you felt him chuckle against your skin.

“since when do you care about that?” 

“since the king of the gods would probably strike us with lightning, or turn us into some horrible monsters, or curse us if we were caught fucking in his cabin." 

"that’s only if we get caught." 

luke gave you that flirtatious smile, the one he now reserved only for you.

it was that smile that led to luke settling between your legs, fucking you with his tongue and fingers, his other hand digging into your thigh to keep you from writhing too much. 

zeus’ cabin was, of course, empty, since his only known child was turned into a pine tree. you and luke had tucked yourselves into the one corner where the giant statue of the god couldn’t see you, setting a sleeping bag down on the cold marble floor and your discarded clothes scattered throughout. the dome-shaped ceiling was decorated with an enchanted mosaic sky that seemed to move. the only sounds that echoed throughout the room were moans as your orgasm washed over you.

"you're so, so pretty," he mumbled, wet lips brushing the skin of your inner thigh. he stayed where he was, awfully concerned with lapping up everything.

you whined his name when you found him taking too long, already a bit sensitive and wanting him inside you.

it might have been your conscious, but you swore you could hear a storm brewing, the threat of thunder and lightning looming.  the mosaic sprouted some clouds, growing darker by the second as if a countdown to your doom.

luke, on the other hand, was acting like you had all the time in the world, and then some.

he paused after his name tumbled from your lips again, and you tugged his hair. he propped his chin on your stomach to get a better look of you. luke was gorgeous, with his mess of black curls, deep brown eyes a little more dangerous than usual, smirk shining with your cum.

"yes, sweetheart?"

“get up here and kiss me,” you groaned. 

once again, luke took his sweet time. his mouth left a trail along your thighs and your hips, your stomach and ribs. it felt like he was worshiping every inch of your skin, scarred and uneven and tattooed as it was. luke took extra care in appreciating the sword engraved on your sternum, the tattoo that matched the one he had on his collarbone.

“hi,” luke whispered once he was face to face with you. 

“hey, tiger,” you matched the softness of his voice, contrasting the harshness that followed when luke crashed his lips into yours. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and once he sucked all the air from your lungs, you had to pull away. 

you informed him: “there’s a condom in my back pocket.”

“always prepared,” he noted with a smile, reaching over to get it.

you kissed luke again as he entered you, your nails scraping down his back. when he pulled away to look at you, you couldn’t meet his gaze. instead, you were mesmerized by the sharp contours of his body and the healed wounds that lingered, every scar that you knew by heart like they were your own. you had a favorite, too — the faint cut on his hip from when he, thalia, and annabeth were on the run and they had to jump a fence.

if luke hadn’t been thrusting into you, you would have bent down to kiss it. 

“eyes up here, beautiful.” 

when you complied, luke smiled and ran his thumb along your jaw.

“good girl,” he praised. “you okay if i go harder?”

you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.

“yes,” you finally answered.  "please."

luke brought his hand down to wrap your leg around his hip before he started moving faster. your head fell back against the marble floor, but you didn’t care about the impact. you just focused on how good it felt to have luke inside you, his strong hand on your hip, his warm breath on your skin. 

after feeling you tighten around him, luke let go a bit more. he dropped his head between your neck and shoulder, his curls brushing against you. as he reached his peak, luke bit your shoulder, hard,  to keep himself from groaning too loudly. you could have sworn that you heard thunder at that exact moment. in fact, it seemed to shake the entire cabin.

luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too. 

there was no room for pillow talk as the two of you rushed to get dressed and get out of there before the king of the gods lost his patience and struck you with lightning, turned you into some horrible monsters, or cursed you. maybe all three, maybe something worse.

you slipped on your underwear and pants, but couldn’t find the top half of your outfit. 

“do you see my shirt there?”

luke had just pulled on his boxers when he turned and passed the item to you. you weren’t sure why he paused for a second while doing it. then, he whispered:

“shit.” luke’s eyes were glued to your shoulder, where his teeth had broken skin. his cheeks flushed a bright red. whether it was shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know; but you were slightly taken aback. “i’m, i’m sorry, i — i didn’t mean to hurt you. i never want to —”

you placed your hands on his cheeks. 

“hey.” you whispered at him softly, and it was enough for him to stop rambling. you could tell he felt guilty, though, since he refused to meet your gaze.

“luke, baby, look at me.”

when he finally did, your heart ached. 

it wasn’t like you hadn’t done similar to luke. you’d never broken skin, sure, but luke seemed to enjoy — really enjoy — whenever you used your teeth in the heat of the moment. you just assumed he knew you wouldn’t mind the same.

but, one bite, and luke was almost reduced to tears, all because he was afraid of hurting you. 

“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”

luke didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed with concern. you kissed the crease on his forehead and reassured him once more that you were fine. 

 “if anything, consider it payback for the hickey i left that took a week to fade away.”

luke smiled softly at that, and you knew he was coming back to you. 

“you know, annabeth suggested that i go to the infirmary because of how it looked. i had to tell her i got it during sparring practice.”

“it wasn’t that bad,” you laughed, and so did luke. 

thunder rumbled throughout the cabin once more, and you swore the clouds were growing darker by the second. 

you were about to finish getting dressed when he grabbed your waist.

“look, if i’m ever too rough whenever we’re —”

“sparring?” 

“sure,” he smiled, thumbs rubbing circles on your bare skin. “whenever we’re sparring, just promise that you’ll let me know.”

“of course,” you hummed. “only if you do the same.”

“of course,” he echoed, and he pecked your lips. “i think it’s hot, you know? when you feel like you can let go. when you mark me. i like everyone knowing that i’m yours.”

you bit back a smile, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

“well, i think it’s hot when you mark me, too. especially when you bite me,” you admitted. 

“don’t tell me you’re still into the whole vampire thing,” he teased.

“oh, please. you were as obsessed with it as the rest of us. don’t you remember?”

as if either of you could forget marathoning entire seasons of buffy the vampire slayer on dvds rented from the nearest video store. you'd watch episode after episode with your friends, the six of you squeezing onto the small couch in the big house, sharing one bowl of popcorn and endless cups of coffee to stay awake.

you shivered out of the memory when he brought his fingers up to trace the bite mark he had left on you.

zeus could have sent more thunder. he could have created a whole godsdamned storm, but you wouldn’t have cared.

luke was so close that you had nothing better to do than to close the distance between you.

luke got bolder as the kiss became more heated — he sank his teeth into your bottom lip, his tongue sweeping over the crimson liquid that emerged, the tang of copper invading your mouth.

“easy there, angel,” you referenced, and felt him smirk against your lips before moving to nip at your neck. 

you trailed your hand down the front of his exposed stomach, outlining the contours and curves. with the moonlight reflecting in, accompanied by the crackle of lightning, it almost looked like luke’s skin was glittering.

“you’re so beautiful," you cooed, nails scraping against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen. "how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

“you won’t.” 

“i'm the lucky one." a shadow passed over luke's face, and you swore you felt his grip tightening on your hips. “i never want to hurt you,” he finished the sentence you had interrupted earlier.

at the time, you didn’t think he was even capable of such a thing. 

for better or for worse, that was the night you realized something.

you liked golden boy luke. or, at the very least, you tolerated him.

the rule-breaking, sin-committing, blood-sucking luke?

he was the one you were irrevocably in love with. 

except your life wasn't some neatly written, scripted coming-of-age story about fictional vampires and slayers. 

it had monsters, too. you just didn't realize who they were until it was too late. 

(v. he made you look so naive)  

there was blood on your hands, but you weren’t sure who it belonged to.

yours or luke’s — it was a toss-up that made you more than a little nauseous. 

luke had stolen the lightning bolt. luke had tried to frame percy and start a war between the gods. luke had begged you to join kronos’ army with him. you almost killed him because of it until you realized that he left percy to die. 

you summarized everything to chiron and mr. d once you had made sure that percy was getting help in the infirmary. the scorpion poison was still putting up a fight, but percy was strong. annabeth was there with him.

dread simmered in the pit of your stomach just thinking about having to tell her everything, too — to see the look in her eyes when she hears just how much her big brother betrayed her.

“and you have no idea where mr. castellan could have gone?” chiron’s voice was stern, moreso than usual. 

you shook your head, not particularly paying attention. you could still feel blood seeping from the blademark luke had left. 

“that’s awfully convenient,” mr.d scoffed.

you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“i’ve heard around camp that you and this luke were quite…. close,” mr. d said, pointing his can of diet coke at you accusingly. 

a wave of anger surged through you. it had been building in your gut ever since luke revealed his betrayal, and you didn’t care if it was a god who was on the receiving end of your wrath. 

“seriously? i saved percy and told you everything, and you’re here suggesting what? that i’m somehow a traitor, too?”  

“seems like the plot of a pretty twisted love story.”

your lips curled into a snarl, and you were about to pounce until chiron dismissed you.

you were in a trance for the rest of the day. chris was gone, too. ethan didn’t seem surprised. silena sobbed, clarisse comforted her, beckendorf cursed luke’s name. other campers kept asking about where their favorite counselor had gone, until they started growing weary of you.

because if golden boy luke was evil, what were the odds that his hot-headed, impertinent girlfriend was, too?

luke left you there, looking like an absolute fool for believing in him, trusting him, loving him.

you couldn’t unsee his blood on your hands. you might as well have been lady macbeth, desperately scrubbing out stains that would never leave.

vi. he was a vice you could never shake

calling all riot grrrls and punk rockers — this show is for YOU!!! come see the SIRENS OF NEW YORK perform THIS friday at joan’s bar ;)

the flyer was an obnoxiously vibrant shade of red and plastered throughout the neighborhood, and it did a good job. one of queens’ best dive bars was packed with people waiting to see the band perform: stella yamada on guitar, mohini banjaree on bass, sally mcknight on vocals — and you on drums. 

it was nice and still a bit new, this relatively normal existence with relatively normal people.

you couldn’t cut off the demigod side of your life completely. there was still a war brewing, and you were in regular enough contact with camp. 

but, you’d been away for a few years, trying to live the life of a non-halfblood in their early 20s. you had an apartment, a cat and a nice enough roommate. you were in school and working as a bartender to pay for rent and tuition. you had friends who, for lack of a better term, were normal. people who worried about paying off student loans and finding their passion in life, whether it be law school or feminist prose or angry girl music of the indie-rock persuasion. people who spent their time in classrooms or tattoo parlors or their friends’ bathrooms at 2am while bleaching their hair after a bad breakup. 

sometimes though, usually late at night when you couldn’t sleep, you had to admit to yourself that you missed your old life. 

you missed home. you missed playing capture the flag and training in the arena and having breakfast in the dining pavilion. you missed your friends, the ones you’d grown up with. 

you missed —

no. you tried not to let your mind wander towards him, or the consequences of what he did. you both drew blood the afternoon he confessed his sins to you, but he was the one who twisted the knife. he was the reason you couldn’t stand your life as a half-blood anymore. 

you just tried to focus on the mortal, mundane things that now composed your everyday life, like the stage you would be performing on in 30 seconds. 

before every show, your bandmates went through different degrees of anxiety. you didn’t get stage fright like them. they called you fearless, but the reality was that you had just gone up against much worse. 

and yet, that night, you almost froze mid-set, just as you started a cover of the joan jett’s “you don’t know what you’ve got.”

ironically, luke had gotten you a cd of this album for your 15th birthday. 

i was caught so unaware, when you made other plans.

think of the devil, and he shall appear.

it couldn’t have been him there, though. last time you heard of him, luke was growing kronos' army somewhere on the west coast.  

you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken. 

i can’t stand to hear your name

you had to shake off the feeling of him watching you. 

it was just that — a bad feeling, right?

 you missed another beat, and mo turned around to give a concerned yet frustrated frown. joan had hinted that there might have been an agent in the audience, and you couldn’t afford to mess up. 

oh baby, you really blew it.

the song ended, and your blood ran cold.

it had to be a trick of the light, seeing luke in the crowd, but just the thought of being in the same space again made it impossible to be up on that stage, so exposed. 

as the band was getting ready for the next song, you slipped away, out the back door and into the alley for some fresh air. with shaky hands, you brought a cigarette between your lips and pulled out your lighter. it was a terrible habit, you knew.

those were always the ones hardest to quit and you needed a vice to keep you grounded. 

so there you found yourself, shivering in your black tank top, just cropped enough that the fishnets you wore underneath red leather pants were slightly visible. the bricks were cool against your back and you exhaled into the soft evening twilight when you realized it hadn’t been a trick of the light. 

“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”

you rolled your eyes, because of course luke would do that. you were on opposite sides of an impending war between gods and titans, a world-ending conflict that luke directly enabled, and he led with a light-hearted comment like you were still the best of friends. 

as if you hadn’t been on the receiving ends of each other’s blades ever since luke revealed himself to be a traitor. 

“give me one reason why i shouldn’t kill you right now. ”

“because i’m alone.”

“you could still be here to kill me,” you reasoned. “or at least try.”  

after everything, you wouldn’t put it past him. you known him to do a lot worse, all to people he claimed to, in a past life, care about. 

luke tried again. 

“because you always liked a fair fight. i came alone and unarmed.” 

you scoffed, dropped your half-finished cigarette to the ground, and snuffed it out with the toe of your chunky patent boot before walking over to stand in front of luke. he put his hands up in surrender as you approached him. 

“if you’re not here to fight, then why are you here?” you demanded, fingers brushing against the switchblade in your pocket. you always kept a celestial bronze weapon on you in case you came across any monsters in the city. you looked at the one in front of you, and wished you had brought a bigger knife.

“i just….i wanted — needed to see you.”

your eyes grazed luke carefully.

he looked rough. deep shadows under his eyes, hair disheveled and partially matted down, shirt wrinkled like he’d been on the run for days. his hands caked with blood and dirt, his face, too. a nasty bruise on his elbow, and what looked like another one disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. 

you bit down the urge to care. you had to remind yourself that luke was dangerous, cruel, and heartless. you couldn’t stand to look at him for one more second, at least not without biting his head off, or at the very least the cut on his lip. 

“no. you don’t get to just —”

the door slammed open, echoed throughout the alley. stella poked her head out, guitar still strapped to her shoulder. from inside, you could hear the crowd cheering.

“jesus christ, y/n! where have you been?” 

“sorry, stel. i needed a smoke break and then i ran into a — ” your voice caught on the word friend. “luke.”

his name left a poisonous taste in your mouth, and you swallowed its bitterness. 

she saw luke then, who gave her that charming smile of his you hadn’t seen in forever. he extended a hand towards her, but stella just scowled at him and turned back to you.

“are you coming to finish the show?” stella demanded. 

“i need to deal with this,” you told her. “i’m sor—”

stella huffed and slithered back inside before you could finish apologizing. 

 “great,” you laughed cynically. “now one of my best friends is pissed at me, and i might get kicked out of the band. my luck just gets worse every time you force yourself back into my life, castellan.”

you weren’t quite sure how to make of the way he looked at you — maybe apologetic, possibly desperately, definitely some sort of disguise. 

“i know….i fucked up, karma.”

you glared at the use of his old nickname for you, feeling a shudder run down your spine.

“yeah, you fucked up. and now everyone, the whole world, is suffering the consequences. me, annabeth, your mom —”

“please,” luke begged once more, voice shaking now. “if you ever loved me —”

“don’t.” you barked. “if you ever loved me, you’d accept that the next time we see each other, it’ll be fighting on a battlefield. until one of us is on the ground, bleeding out, or never again.”

luke stared at you. you glared back at him. 

“sorry i’m late, lukey. did i miss much?” a sickly sweet voice cut through the tension. 

you turned and saw a cheerleader. she looked relatively normal, but the mismatched legs — one bronze, another furry — along with the red eyes and fangs gave her away. 

“you said you were alone,” you pointed out, tilting your head towards the monster. “looks like you brought company.”

“i didn’t,” luke insisted. “kelli’s been hunting me down.”

kelli pouted. “i thought we were playing hide and seek. but it’s over now — i win. please don’t be mad, baby.”

baby. you could have laughed. 

“i guess you moved on, castellan.” you meant your words to come across as mocking, so you hoped luke couldn’t sense the resentment behind them.

kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed. 

“he sure did,” she cooed and moved closer to luke, running a long red fingernail down his chest. he pushed her away abruptly, and kelli pouted once more. “we miss you, luke. i miss you. please come back home with me.”

“that’s not my home.”

out of everything luke had said, those were the words that got through to you. you glanced at him once more — his hands curled into fists, jaw clenched, and eyes locked on yours, panicking and pleading at the same time. 

you had to give in to those pleading, panicked brown eyes. 

luke didn’t have any weapons on him. all you had was a tiny pocket knife and some combat skills you’d been maintaining through kickboxing classes with your roommate, but you were willing to put them to good use.

you stepped in front of luke. 

“listen — kelli, was it?” the empousa growled at you. “call me sentimental, but i can’t let you take him.”

kelli gave you a snarl, and you whipped out your switchblade. admittedly, it looked a little pathetic compared to her deadly fangs and sharp claws. 

“aw, cute!” she mocked, and then pushed you backwards. 

you expected to tumble into luke, but he had disappeared. seemed like you did make the wrong choice, to trust luke again. 

again — the worst, most sinister habits were the hardest ones to break. 

it briefly crossed your mind to chase him down after this for leading you into a trap. for now, you had a shapeshifting cheerleader to take care of. 

you managed to side-step kelli’s next attack, and sliced across her arm in the process. she shrieked. her hair bursted into flames, as if your day could get any worse. you tried to get another jab in, but kelli managed to be quicker this time. she punched you in the jaw, then kicked you, hard, with a hoofed foot, causing a dull crack to your ribcage upon impact. the kick sent you spinning towards the brick wall; it stopped you from falling, but knocked the air out of your lungs. you spat, your mouth thick with the taste of blood. your ears were ringing, and you couldn’t locate your knife. 

you were definitely out of practice. 

“kelli!” 

you both turned your attention towards luke, standing at the entrance of the alley with his sword in hand.

“luke!” kelli said like he was her long lost lover. she batted her eyelashes at him, the murderous grin she had given you melting away to something more enticing. “you came to help me finish her off.”

luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”

luke threw the sword towards you. despite a split second of surprise, you caught it; made a sharp diagonal cut. before kelli knew it, she was reduced to nothing but dust.

you dropped luke’s sword and fell to the pavement, adrenaline coursed through your veins from the first near-death experience you’d had in months. even with your body bruised and broken, fighting was a thrill like no other. 

luke came to kneel in front of you, sneakers crunching over the ashes of his ex-girlfriend.

“you said you were unarmed.” your voice sounded muffled. you spat out another mouthful of blood.

“half-bloods are walking monster bait. i’d be an idiot if i didn’t have any celestial bronze on me.” 

to emphasize his point, luke tucked your switchblade carefully back into your pocket. he moved his hand to the hem of your shirt. it was your instinct to keep him from lifting it up, and he stopped when he noticed your hesitation.

“i’m just trying to see how bad it is,” he informed. his lips then formed a bemused grin. “besides, i’ve already seen everything.”

“shut up,” but you smiled weakly even if it made your cheek hurt.

the skin where kelli had kicked you was turning an alarming shade of purple. luke tried to touch it, but you let out a sharp breath when pain emanated across your ribcage, and he recoiled. 

“okay, we need to get you —”

“i’m fine,” you groaned. you struggled to stand up, but you urged yourself to walk away. in your mind, the scales were already balanced. 

the moral, logical side of you was in danger of yielding to the wicked desire you always tried to suppress — to be with luke, even once more, just like old times. your quest for vengeance could only be stopped by your hunger for something more, and you needed distance from him before you gave in too much.

“i don’t need your help,” you insisted. “i protected you from kelli, and you gave me the sword that saved my life. we’re even.”

you started to limp away, but luke grabbed your side before you could get too far. you yelped at the contact.

“sorry,” he winced. “just — let me at least get you to a hospital.”

“what do i look like, a rockefeller?” you scoffed, and then grimaced when it felt like a giant was crushing you from the inside out. “i can’t afford that. i have some emergency nectar and ambrosia at my place, anyways.”

“let me at least get you back there, then. please.” he grabbed your hand. “i owe you.”

looking into those deep brown eyes, something in your stomach snapped. 

bad habits were always the hardest to break.

“fine,” you coughed. “but one wrong move, and i swear: i’ll go full vampire slayer and pierce a wooden stake through your heart.”

luke nodded once, lips curling into a smile. “seems fair.”

you groaned as luke wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you steady, his hold terribly familiar as he carried you back home. 

(vii. he loved you — and you weren’t sure if that was a fact or a weapon)

your apartment was only a few blocks away. luke must have gotten stronger, because he was able to carry you up the fire escape to avoid too much attention.

“i’m not sure if my roommate is home,” you whispered as luke set you down on the carpet by your bed. “so we should try and be quiet.”

you told him where you kept the supplies. he snuck away and emerged from the bathroom a minute later with clean hands and a first-aid  kit.

luke knelt down in front of you. 

“can i take your shirt off?” 

you nodded, trying to keep your eyes from fluttering closed. you were so bloodied up, more so than you initially let on, so you let luke do whatever he needed to do. he took off your shirt, assessed your injury and apologized when the pressure from his fingers made you wince. he wiped the blood off your lips and coaxed your mouth open to feed you some ambrosia, offer you a sip of nectar. 

there was no doubt about it: luke was taking care of you.

at first, you imagined your bones stitching themselves back together, and maybe some pieces of your heart, too. 

what were the odds that he was manipulating you, though? certainly not zero.

and then you noticed something when he reached over to place the canteen of nectar back with the kit. he was moving slowly, his breathing shallow and fresh blood seeping through his shirt.

“wait. what happened?”

“nothing,” he winced. luke was always good at hiding his pain.

“luke.”

“it was a few days ago. a hellhound bit me when i was trying to escape from….”

kronos’ army. he didn’t need to say it for either of you to remember. 

wordlessly, you switched your positions, led him to prop himself up on the bed frame while you crouched in front of him. 

“can i take this off?”

luke nodded. 

the first thing you noticed was that his muscles were more defined, yet his body was more beat-up than you'd ever seen it. there was a pretty nasty bruise on his shoulder. your eyes traveled down to the bitemark at his hip, and the haphazard stitching job luke must have done to himself. it looked like it could be infected, and with the activity from today, it was no wonder the wound reopened.

like he had done to you just seconds before, you took care of him.

“so…how are our friends?” he exhaled as you ran a cloth over his skin to clean off some of the blood.

our friends. it didn’t feel right that luke could still call them that. 

“i’m guessing you know what happened to chris….” luke grimaced, and you hoped he felt a little guilty at sending one of his best friends into a madness-inducing labyrinth. “clarisse and lena broke up, and neither of them will tell me why. beck is doing fine, always coming up with stuff in the forges. i guess that’s as good as anyone can be now, inventing new weapons for a war none of us wanted.”

you couldn’t help but add that last part. 

“and the kids?” luke asked as though you were divorce parents and he lost the custody battle. 

you looked up at the gray streak in luke’s own hair, remembering that he had manipulated annabeth and percy to hold the weight of the world, a burden that they couldn’t seem to shake.

it made you more than a little uneasy, luke showing any sense of caring for the people he seemed to leave behind and hurt so easily. you wished he hadn’t been so tender and attentive, like all the fighting and animosity had been a bad dream. 

luke just had to make everything so complicated.

“they’re fine, all things considered.”

you didn’t offer anything more, anything less. 

he was quiet for a moment.

“you seem to be doing alright, though?”

you ignored the question completely that time, focusing on getting the job done. you gave luke some ambrosia and nectar, watched as the infection magically disappeared. the wound didn’t completely heal, and there were many bruises that lingered. you were about to give luke some more when he shook his head. 

"you should save the rest for emergencies," he suggested, chin jutting towards your diminishing supplies. "in case something happens."

"is that a threat, castellan?" you asked, only half-joking. 

"no." luke reached out to touch your face, perhaps a move to reassure you, but then he redirected himself. "besides, i'll be fine. just need to cover it with some gauze." 

"you should take a shower before, then. i'll see what we have to eat." 

you helped him up, and sent luke into the bathroom. you changed into clean clothes before going to look for some food.

the ambrosia and nectar made your body feel more powerful than it had in days, even before getting kicked around by a demon cheerleader. no wonder the gods felt invincible, if that was their diet. meanwhile, all you had in your kitchen was a half-empty box of cinnamon poptarts and packets of instant coffee. 

you could hear your roommate singing from behind her closed door. you were quiet in toasting the breakfast pastries, and then slithered back into your room to look for something that would fit luke.

luke didn't hear you knock, so you just entered and closed the door behind you gently. on the bathroom counter, you set a pair of sweatpants that an ex had left behind, along with an oversized shirt of yours. before you could leave, there was a knock on the door. luke heard this one, and poked his head from behind the shower curtain. you gestured at him that you’d take care of it. he nodded, and closed the curtain again.

"yeah?"

"do you have any tampons in there?" your roommate's voice was muffled through the door.

"yeah," you replied. "i'll be out in a minute."

"do you mind if i just come in now? i'm bleeding out, out here." 

you were about to protest, but the doorknob started to turn, and you panicked. you slipped behind the shower curtain with luke, who looked at you wide-eyed. you placed your hand over his mouth before he could say anything. 

you were lucky earlier, that stella's mind was so preoccupied she didn't notice how beat-up luke was. you didn't want to take another chance. you didn't need your roommate asking questions. 

once the sounds of shuffling through cupboards stopped, and you heard a small thank you followed by the door closing, luke bit your palm.

"ow!" you hissed, pulling away from him.

"she's gone,” luke shrugged. “you don't need to muzzle me anymore.”

you rolled your eyes. “i put some clothes out for you, and a clean towel.”

luke caught your wrist before you could leave. 

“wait. my shoulder is killing me. do you mind…would you maybe help me….” 

his question trailed off, and you furrowed your brow when he pointed the shampoo bottle in your direction.

“you practically carried me down 3 blocks and up 4 flights of stairs, but you’re too hurt to wash your own hair?”

“i guess the pain just caught up with me.” his cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat. “sorry, i shouldn’t have —”

something pinched in your chest, hearing him stumble for forgiveness, even if it was so mundane. you caught yourself saying:

“i’ll do it.” 

before you could decide if it was a bad idea or not. you got rid of your shorts and tied your shirt up around your waist to prevent the clothes from getting too wet. luke blushed even more at your panties and exposed stomach, as if he wasn’t fully naked — which you were, of course, trying to ignore.

neither of you said anything as you focused on the task at hand, massaging shampoo and then conditioner into luke’s curls until they were rid of the grime trapped within. all you heard were luke’s soft sighs as your fingers scraped across his scalp and steady stream of water hitting the bathroom tiles. luke seemed so relaxed that his eyelids fluttered closed, and he almost toppled over. with your own sudsy hands, you brought his hands to sit at your waist, steadying him. 

the space was a little foggy, slightly too warm. you and luke had been intimate before, but never like this. it was almost enough to make you forget.

once all the soap was washed away, you brushed your fingers over the scar on his face, down to the sword tattooed along his collarbone, before you realized what you were doing.

“sorry,” you whispered, pulling your hand away.

“it’s okay,” he hummed, and he moved his hand up to brush against the very same tattoo you had on your sternum, touch burning through a layer of cotton.

you wanted his hands elsewhere — around your neck, between your legs.

the water was running cold by then, and it jolted you back to reality.

you had to keep your desires in check. luke was manipulative and cruel and ruthless — you were enemies, not friends or lovers. you weren’t supposed to want him carnally.

you reached behind him to turn the shower off without another word, and left the bathroom so he could get dressed. 

neither of you were armed, but the situation was dangerous. you were barely healing from the claw marks luke left on your life and yet…. 

part of you wanted him to dig his fingers back into those wounds — to feel him again, even if it bled you dry in the end. 

luke’s sword, backbiter, leaned against your windowsill, a menacing reminder of who he had aligned himself with. luke was essentially kronos’ right hand man. he was your enemy.

what were you doing, bringing him into your home, taking care of him and letting him do the same to you?

leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?

now that you thought of it, if his guard was down, you could probably grab your own knife and just —

you heard luke clear his throat and you turned to see him standing in your doorway, shirtless and sweatpants hanging low. it was embarrassing how much you wanted to lap up the drop of water traveling down his chest.

luke must have noticed, so cleared his throat again. your body felt warm all over when you met his gaze, and he gave you an annoyingly confident smirk.

“so, here’s the thing. i’m pretty sure you’re either thinking about wanting to kill me, or wanting to fuck me.” 

you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, but couldn’t help but play along. 

“sounds like you’ve accepted your fate either way.”

“well, i do have a preference,” he quipped. “i just don’t particularly care as long as it's in your hands.”

it didn’t get past you that luke was checking you out, too, eye trailing over the exposed skin of your legs and lingering on where the t-shirt hugged your chest. 

how bad would it be to, for one night, indulge? no concern about what was right or wrong, about titans or gods; no worries about what a prophecy foretold or which side of a war you’re on. 

just you and luke: giving into your own twisted desires, and dealing with the consequences later.

another droplet trickled down luke’s torso. it disappeared underneath the band of his sweatpants, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

you strode over to him, about to crash your lips into his when —

luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“no kissing,” he warned. 

“what’s the matter?” you smirked. “i thought you liked it when i bite. worried that you’ll turn away from the dark side if i do?”

luke swallowed thickly.

you were taunting him, relishing in how his breath caught in his throat and gaze seemed fixed on your lips.

it was cute, how luke tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but couldn’t hide the slight tremble in his voice. 

“no kissing. that’s my only condition.”

“okay.” you took off your shirt, positioned yourself on the bed to punctuate your point. “as long as you’re fine sleeping with the enemy, castellan.”

luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate. 

he caged you in with his arms, settling his hips between your legs. his lips traveled down your tattooed sternum, nipping and sucking and re-bruising your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties. luke pulled it up with his teeth, the elastic snapping back when he let go. you whined his name and he looked up at you with dark eyes. 

“can i?” his breath fanned over your navel, his nails digging into your hips as he waited for your answer.  

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel luke smirk against your inner thigh before sinking his teeth into it. you whimpered, and luke salved his tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. he positioned your legs over his shoulder for better access to where you needed him most.

luke manipulated his tongue and fingers in all the ways he knew ruined you. in return, you gripped his black curls, tightly, and uttered praise in all the ways you knew ruined him. 

“just like that, pretty boy,” you encouraged, practically melting into the mattress. it felt so good — dangerously good — to be devoured by luke. “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

luke’s moan vibrated throughout your body and he became harsher, bringing you over the edge. he left a few more bites on your body on his way up to meet you and when he did, luke’s lips and chin were still shining with your release.

you leaned forward slightly to lick it up. you ghosted your mouth over his, and luke groaned when you pulled away.

“no kissing,” you mocked and ran your thumb over his tattooed collarbone. 

luke tightened his grip on your hips, surely leaving bruises for later. his eyes feral, his curls a terrible mess, when he grumbled:

“you’re such a —”

you twisted your calf around luke’s leg and you flipped your positions before he could finish his sentence. he grunted as his back hit the mattress. 

“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll still take care of you,” you drawled, starting to trail your tongue down luke’s body, occasionally incorporating your teeth or sucking brutally, imprinting a constellation of bites and bruises. his skin smelled like your pomegranate mango body wash, and it was more than a little intoxicating.

you weren’t soft or gentle, because you knew how luke liked you — rough, raw, a little ruthless. luke once told you that the wounds you left on his body weren’t the type that left him bitter; they were the type of wounds he wished would never heal.   

in a moment of weakness, you left a kiss — just one — on the semi-healed wound on his hip. luke sighed at the gesture and reached a hand down to gently brush his fingers against your cheek. 

“i missed you so much, karma,” luke almost sobbed. 

slightly shaken out of your lust, you weren’t sure whether to smirk at the hold you had on him, or sob at the reality that you missed him too. 

sensing your hesitation, luke removed his hand and told you to continue.  

you made quick work of luke’s sweatpants. luke, already hard and throbbing, didn’t last long with your lips wrapped around him. you swallowed him whole, and then some. 

“always such a good girl for me,” luke praised when you were face to face with him once more. his thumb swiped over your wet lips to gather what you missed. you granted him access to push into your mouth, and luke groaned when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his thumb clean. your teeth scraped the skin on his way out. 

what followed was a brief squabble over who should be on top. you won out. 

there you were, luke sitting up against the headboard, you on his lap with his length nestled in your cunt. you scraped your nails down luke’s chest, and then curled your hands around the base of his neck. he gripped either side of your waist, thumbs pressing circles into your skin encouragingly. luke looked up at you in awe, desperate sighs leaving his mouth as you rutted your hips against his. it felt sinful and wonderful, feeling luke buried deep inside you again, stretching you deliciously. the two of you exchanging animalistic grunts as you used the other's body, chased your high.

when you rolled your hips into his at just the right angle, luke’s moans turned into whines. 

“fuck it. please — kiss me.”

you stilled your hips, and luke whined some more. “are you sure?” you asked, breathing heavily.

luke nodded and gently moved you to lay on your back with him hovering over you. he leaned close, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. 

“please,” luke pleaded once more.

his brown eyes looked down at you with such hunger and passion, something deep within you ached. 

you kissed each other harshly, then. you still tasted him on your tongue and yourself on his. his sharp nose cut into your cheek, mouth attacking yours and vice versa. your nails pierced the skin of his shoulder as he resumed thrusting into you at a vicious pace. luke kept gnawing on your bottom lip until he made you bleed. you groaned, and he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to savor your coppery taste.

yes, luke could also be rough and raw and a little ruthless — which you always loved. but you knew, regardless, you were safe with him in that moment. all he wanted was for you to feel good.

you yanked his curls to force luke to look at you. he whimpered at having to detach himself from your lips.

“i missed you too, tiger,” you finally admitted, calling him that old affectionate nickname you promised yourself you would never use again.  “i missed you so fucking much.” 

luke gave you that troublesome smile of his. you connected your lips once more. you wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer, and luke wrapped an arm around your back to do the same. 

it wasn’t long until you both reached your peak, collapsing back onto the soft mattress, chests heaving. you each lied down on your side, facing each other. you admired luke’s mess of curls, his swollen-kiss-bitten lips, the rose-petal bruises you had left.

you wished the post-sex haze lasted longer, but then luke had to disturb it by saying:

“what you said earlier — i never think of you as my enemy, you know.”

you sighed and covered your face with your hand. “luke —”

“never,” luke insisted. he inched closer, took your hand in his and held it to his chest. 

you were overwhelmed by his heartbeat, strong and fast, so you pulled yourself away.

“we’re fighting on different sides,” you pointed out.

you could’ve said more, but all the things that have been said and done already hung heavy in the air, reoccupying the space between you and bursting your brief moment of peace.

“but we’ve always been fighting for the same thing.”

maybe that was true.

in theory, you weren’t against overthrowing the gods. but you couldn't reconcile with everything luke had done, what he was willing to do. you couldn't let your friends and thousands of innocent people die in the name of divine beings who valued power and control over all else. you couldn't hurt or betray people you loved for the sake of revenge, regardless of who your mother is. you couldn't turn that love against them, the way luke had, in search of justice. 

deep down, you knew it wasn’t right to have him there in bed with you. if it was so wicked, sinful, treacherous — then why did you want him to stay?

“i’m not sure they have a word for what we are,” you concede, returning to the conversation moments ago. 

"i guess not."

you let luke bring you into his arms that time. you rested your head against his chest. his heartbeat still steady, but a little slower. you idly traced your fingers across the marks you left on him, and you avoided the ones you didn't.

"how's your shoulder?" 

"it's okay," luke sighed. he lifted your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "whatever we are: i love you." 

those weren’t the words that were meant to make you sick, but your stomach churned — with nausea or desire, you weren’t sure.

you moved to straddle his hips. your eyes glanced over a scar you didn't register until now. the cut you had sliced across his cheek that afternoon he tried to kill percy, and then ran away from camp. you had a similar one that he had given you during that same struggle. 

matching tattoos, matching scars. there really was no word for what you and luke were to each other. 

"i love you too.”

at some point throughout the night, with luke’s strong arms wrapped around you and your legs intertwined beneath tangled sheets, it occurred to you that luke must have tracked you down for a particular reason.

maybe he was here to convince you to join kronos' army, to help him overthrow the gods and burn the world as you knew it; maybe he was here to break your heart all over again, just for the sick thrill of it; maybe he did just want to have one more night together, enemies or otherwise. maybe, maybe, maybe.

luke’s soft snores lulled you to sleep, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the scales of justice.

you'd figure it out in the morning. then you'd decide whether or not he deserved a blade to the heart.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Ｔｅａｓｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: dom!boyfriend!bang chan x sub!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluff

♡ Summary: Lately your boyfriend's been spending a bit too much time with his friends and you're beginning to feel ignored so you decide that you'll get his attention by any means necessary. But are you really willing to go through with it and how will Chan react when he realizes exactly what you're up to?

♡ Word Count: 3.3k-ish

♡ Warnings: dom/sub dynamic, jealousy, pet names (baby, good girl, bad girl), kissing, manhandling, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, rough sex, fingering, spanking, thigh slapping, dirty talk, Chan has a kink for you watching him, and that should be all my darlings.

♡ A/N: I received an anon request for some dom Channie vibes of this variety so here we are. As always, I really hope that I did a good job with this and yes my inbox is indeed open to requests or just stopping by to say hello. Anyway, let me hush up. Hope ya'll enjoy it, babes 💜

You aren’t a brat.

Okay, maybe you are just a little bit, but that doesn’t mean that your frustration with Chan isn’t justified. You get it. His friends are important to him. The time that he spends with them is sacred and you’d never want to do anything to get in the way of that. Chan’s always been good at keeping the balance, hanging with his friends without cutting into how much attention he gives you. But lately that balance has been severely lacking and you can’t help but feel neglected.

With everyone’s schedules opening up, the guys coming over once or twice a week has turned into a nightly event, hardly leaving space for the romance you’re accustomed to. You’ve tried to drop a few hints here and there that you’d like more alone time with him but it seems to fall on deaf ears. Exhausted with trying a gentler approach, you’ve cooked up another way to grab his attention. 

You aren’t a brat. 

Okay, maybe you are, more than a little bit, but that doesn’t mean that what you’re about to do to Chan isn’t justified. 

“Babe, could you bring me a glass of water?” Chan shouts over his shoulder, fingers tapping away at his laptop. 

He’d usually get up and get it for himself but he’s too in the zone for that tonight. This is how he gets when he’s working on a song. He spends hours in the bedroom, glued to his desk, frying his retinas with the computer screen. 

“Of course, Channie! One sec!” you shout back, your voice sweet enough to make him crack a faint smile. You’re always there for him, always so willing to help with even the smallest tasks. He wonders how he got a girl like you. A sweetheart to the core. 

The pitter patter of your feet trails down the hallway and you’re right over his shoulder, setting an ice cold glass of water down on the table for him. “Nice and cold for you” you smile, rustling his messy brown hair. 

Without looking, Chan rubs your arm, leaning his head against your soft belly, “Thank you, baby. Oh, before I forget, Bin and Han are coming over tonight. They should be here in, hmm, an hour. Could you just let them in when they get here?”

“That’s totally not a problem. I’ll let them right in” you say, gracing him with a kiss on the top of the head before heading back for the kitchen. Chan’s brain automatically shifts back to the task at hand, determined to apply the last few tweaks to the song before he plays it for the guys. 

Stopping yourself before you hit the doorway you turn on your heels, smiling from ear to ear, “Hey, baby, I was gonna order a pizza. Can I grab your card real quick?”

“Hmm?” he asks, processing your request on a delay, “Uh, of course, here.” 

Fishing his wallet from the pocket of his sweatpants, he turns to hand it to you and sees something that makes his heart stop. You’re naked. Not fully naked but in his eyes you might as well be. You’re standing in the doorway with the most innocent smile on your face and the skimpiest clothes he’s ever seen you in. 

You’re rocking a pair of skin tight shorts that ride your hips deliciously, nearly choking your plush thighs. They’re riding up high enough that there’s simply no way you have panties on underneath them and you definitely don’t.

The crop top you’ve got on barely constitutes a shirt. It’s more of a thin strip of material covering your bare tits, placing your perky nipples at serious risk of popping out. And you’re standing there like it’s nothing, your fluffy breasts nearly bouncing out of your crop top as you skip over to grab his wallet. 

His gaze dances over you with a seriousness that has the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “Did you plan on changing or…”

“Changing?” you laugh, filing through his wallet to find his credit card, “Why would I change? Bin and Han basically live here at this point. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

At last getting your hands on his card, you toss the wallet back into his lap and turn to leave but he grabs for you wrist. “You need to change…now” he commands, his jaw tightening. Why you’re acting so oblivious is beyond him but the clock is ticking on his friends’ arrival and he’s in no mood for games. Whatever your issue is you need to get over it quickly before his patience runs out. 

“Why should I?” you snap, snatching your arm free of his grasp. The next thing that comes out of your mouth is purely out of bitterness. It shouldn’t be said, you know it the moment you taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but by the time you realize your mistake it’s too late. “Just because you don’t want me anymore doesn’t mean someone else won’t.” 

The laptop slams shut, almost making you jump out of your skin. Chan rises to face you, the gentle brown of his eyes darkening as he backs you into the bed. “What did you say?”

“I said that…I said…nothing. I said nothing” you stutter, instantly feeling much less confident in your plan. 

“You said ‘Just because you don’t want me anymore’” he repeats, nearly choking on the words himself, “Why would you say that? Why would you ever think for a moment that I don’t want you?”

“Because you barely touch me anymore” you sigh, flopping down on the edge of the bed. You almost crumble at your own admission, hugging yourself for comfort. “Most days you’re too busy on your laptop or with your friends to even look at me and it makes me feel, I don’t know, like you don’t want me anymore.” 

Chan kneels down in front of you, taking your hands into his, and you can feel the tension in the room soften. Ignoring you was never his intention. The knowledge that you ever felt unwanted is like a bullet to the heart. He’d gotten so swept up in everything else that he took for granted the fact that you’re always there, right by his side. A mistake he regrets more than anything as he watches tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I do want you. I’ll always want you” he swears, staring into your eyes so that you feel every single word he says. “I love you. You know that, yeah?”

You nod, knowing that, even if he can be annoying, Chan would never bullshit you. That isn’t who he is. “Yeah, I know. I love you too.”

Chan drops down to his knees, palms clasped together in flawless begging formation, “So give me a chance to make this right, please?” He pokes out his bottom lip, making big brown puppy dog eyes, “Pretty please?”

It’s impossible not to giggle at how cute he is. Only a few minutes ago you were pissed enough to bite his head off, now all you want to do is kiss him. You hate how you can never stay mad at this man but deep down inside you never wanted to be. You only wanted him. 

“Ugh, fine” you huff, arms folded across your chest, “But don’t let it happen again, okay?”

Chan inches towards you, his poked out bottom lip ghosting yours, “It will never happen again. Cross my heart. Can I get a smile?”

“No” you refuse, turning your attention to the art on the walls or anything else in the room to distract you from the way that handsome face turns you into a pool of jelly. 

“No? You sure?” he asks, pressing his full rosy lips to your neck. That first point of contact gives you goosebumps and you quiver in spite of yourself. Chan kisses his way up your neck, his lips so feathery against your skin that it tickles, shaking that smile right out of you.

Chan wraps his arms around you, biceps flexing as he brings you in closer, “There she is. There’s my girl.”

“Not fair. You cheated” you giggle, wiggling in his grasp. Your attempt at getting away is half hearted at best. You’re right where you want to be. 

Chan sprinkles kisses all over your face. Your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, until you’re all wet with kisses and reduced to a giggling mess. 

“Oh, wait, I’ve gotta text the guys” he gasps, abruptly rushing back over to the desk and picking his phone up. For a fleeting moment you feel deflated. An entire conversation and his friends are still the first thing on his mind. But as he turns around your fears are immediately put to rest.

“I told them not to come,” he says, tucking his phone into one of the drawers. 

You perk up, giddy with joy, “Wait, are you serious?” 

Chan hovers over you, taking your squishy cheeks into the palms of his hands. “Of course I am, baby” he coos, beaming down at you, “I can see them whenever but tonight I wanna be with you. I was thinking maybe we could go out to dinner.”

“Dinner? Ooh, I have the perfect dress!” You’re ready to rush to the closet and throw together a quick outfit but Chan gently pushes you back down onto the bed, refusing to move an inch out of your way. 

There’s a fire in his gaze, like a starving animal who just spotted the most delectable prey. “Were you really gonna wear that in front of them tonight?”

You sit in silence, calculating the answer in your head before you slip up again and say the wrong thing. Technically you hadn’t thought the plan through that far. Would you have actually done it? 

“I just wanted to make you a little jealous.” 

“Make me jealous when you could’ve just talked to me? That’s not what good girls do, is it?” he scolds, his voice low and stern as he brushes the hair away from your face. Tension floods the room once more, putting you back on edge. He strokes your cheek, tracing it with his thumb, “I want you to lay back.”

“But I…” you stutter, fighting to explain yourself. 

Chan leans down, kissing you hungrily, his tongue darting into your mouth to perform a delicate dance with yours. “I said lay back, don’t make me ask again, okay?”

His aggression causes heat to pulse through you, pooling right between your thighs. Not daring to make him ask again, you lay back, propped up on your elbows as you slip all the way back on the bed. Chan watches you closely, on the verge of salivating at how your eager breasts bounce with every movement. “Spread your legs.” 

At last you have a definite answer to his question. Were you really gonna wear that tonight? Hell no. How could you wear something like this in front of Bin and Han when you’re dying of shyness in front of a man who's seen you naked a thousand times?

Heart racing, you do as you’re told, bending your knees and spreading your legs open for him. The cool air in the room blows against your core, confirming what you already know. You’re wet, dripping all over these brand new shorts. Chan kneels between your legs, fingers pressing into the fat of your thighs to spread you wider. He licks his lips, a subconscious reaction to seeing the imprint of your perfect pussy lips through the thin material that only gets wetter the more he stares.

Your face is too pretty and innocent for a girl intent on being this slutty. It’s a dynamic that has his cock stiffening behind those black sweatpants. You have no idea the restraint it takes not to drag you to the edge of the bed and fuck you. Everything inside of him is saying to devour you but he needs to play with his food a little bit more first. 

“I need you to give me a real answer, baby” he whispers, hooking two fingers beneath the material covering your soaked entrance. He drags his knuckles lightly along your slit and they glide smoothly through your arousal, teasing your twitching core. You throw your head back, pouting cutely as you squeeze your thighs together, desperate for more of that tingling sensation. 

Chan forces your legs back open, a palm coming down on your inner thigh, slapping it harshly. “Look at me.”

You wince at the pain, loving it at the same time, and pop your head up to regain eye contact. You can feel your nipples grow rigid, peeking out enough to glimpse as your crop top rides up. 

“You aren’t to ever take your eyes off of me. Understood?” Chan says, dragging his knuckles up to brush your tender clit. 

“I…I understand” you whine, nails raking the sheets, pleasure rippling through you. 

Spreading his fingers, Chan scissors them around your clit, smearing your slick through the warmth of your folds. “Now tell me, were you gonna walk around dressed like this all night?” he asks, rolling your clit between his fingers. The whimpers you let out only encourage him to put more pressure on your clit, the arousal visibly trickling from your core and onto the sheets. 

“You were gonna flash them this pretty little cunt, hmm? I thought it was all mine” he says, feigning disappointment. He drags his fingers back down to your entrance, slowly easing them into you until your body’s purring. 

“It’s yours. All yours” you moan, biting down on your lip. Your walls are so greedy, eating those fingers right up. It’s been weeks since you felt his touch and it’s nothing short of ecstasy to have his hands on you. Inside of you. You arch your back and your tits pop right out of your top, jiggling sensually as he works you with his fingers. 

Chan kisses the inside of your knee, bringing his thumb up to toy with your clit again, “Louder for me, baby. Tell me who you belong to.” He curls his fingers against your cushy walls, his fingertips tapping at your sweet spot. Your body just wants to collapse and let him toy with your needy pussy as much as he wants but you remember the rules. Your eyes are never to leave him. Ever. 

“I belong to you, Channie! I’m yours!” you cry out as he picks up the pace, the veins in his arm becoming all the more defined by the force he uses to drive his fingers into your core. Resting your foot on his thigh, you inch over to rub his bulge and he groans, his eyes ready to roll back in his head. He thanks the heavens that his sweatpants are black otherwise you’d have known how hard you had him ages ago. 

“What’s mine?” he asks, nearly falling off rhythm from how well you tease his cock. All of the blood rushes from his head to his cock, pushing the band of his sweatpants to its limit. 

You clench around his fingers, shifting your hips down further to grind against his hand, “This pussy is yours, Channie. I want you to take it.” Your voice is the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. It’s dripping with enough need that he can’t deny you.

Chan dives face first between your thighs, tearing the flimsy shorts right off of you, and taking a mouthful of your cunt. The slurping sounds are borderline insane. You’re sticky and sweet coating his tongue, nice and warm as you slip down his throat. You squirm beneath him, burying your fingers in his hair, crying out his name as he laps at your pussy.

You do your best, try your absolute hardest, not to look away from him but you can’t keep your eyes from clenching closed. It’s been so long, it feels so fucking good. You’re barely holding onto your sanity let alone maintaining control over your body. 

Chan tilts his head up, suckling at your clit, “I guess we don’t wanna listen tonight.” He pulls his mouth away, releasing your clit with a pop. 

“Noooo” you whine at the loss, forcing your teary eyes back open, “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t” he sympathizes, rising from the bed to shed his clothing. If there were ever a moment you took your eyes off of him it definitely wouldn’t be now. You didn’t think you could get wetter but seeing your boyfriend standing there naked—muscles on full display, swollen cock dripping arousal between your feet—proves you wrong.

Chan grabs you by the ankles, dragging you right to the edge of the bed, “You just need a little help, that’s all.”

Sandwiching himself between your legs, he aligns the tip with your entrance and grabs you by the chin, pushing your cheeks together so that your lips poke out a tiny bit. “So fucking pretty” he hisses, shuddering at how tight you are when he pops the tip in.

You let out a moan that borders on a whimper and he grins, thrusting into you hard enough that your whole body jiggles from the force. Your eyes squeeze shut and he slaps you on the ass, “Stay with me, baby. I want you to watch what happens to girls who try to make their boyfriends jealous.” 

He dips his hips down, switching to an angle even more lethal, and thrusts into you harder this time, bottoming out. Your lids shoot open, glossy eyes wide open as he drills into you. Every stroke of his cock between your gushing walls is like an art, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel so fucking good” he hums, his free hand reaching between your legs to pet your cunt. “I’ll always want you. Always want this gorgeous face and…fuck…this pussy.” 

His grip on your face is so tight that your words come out jumbled, only breathy moans escaping your lips. He’s so deep inside of you that you’d swear you could feel it in your stomach, right there where all the tension’s building. Your mind’s spinning, core spasming around his cock. You’re fucked out already, your lids growing heavier and almost closing. Just almost. But you force them back open, taking his cock and following instructions like a…

“Good girl” he coos, rubbing your clit faster and faster. Your body jerks, your hands clasping around his arm, and he knows you’re close. “Cum for me. I wanna feel you gush around this cock.” 

Chan lets go of your face, grabbing your plush hips to keep you in place, hips snapping in rhythm with your broken moans. He leans in to plant sloppy open mouthed kisses between your breasts, capturing your mouth with his.

“Channie, I’m…I’m…” you gasp, losing your words as a wave of heat washes over you, leaving you creaming down his length, his thickness stretching your walls to the brink. 

Chan snakes his fingers into your hair, forcing you to stick to your word. He watches your eyes as they light up at the release, fighting to stay open then widening again when he spills into you, swelling you up with his cum.

He keeps you just like this, staring into your eyes until you can’t take it anymore and your head falls back in surrender. Rolling off of you, he cuddles up beside you, both of you high enough that you’re floating. 

“You’re my favorite person in the world” he says, kissing you sweetly. 

“You’re mine too." You crack a weak smile against his lips, “Soooo, did you still wanna grab something to eat?”

“I mean, I already ate” he grins, dipping a finger into your lingering wetness and licking it off, “But I could go for some more.”

[astrologylunadream]

Their Hidden Fantasies of You🥵👅🖤 [SPICY] (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream~ Here's a special reading this time on their hidden fantasies about you, yes you, enjoy~ hope you find your message♥️

(This one gets spicy beware🔥 darker themes included.)

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^v^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🖤♥️🖤♥️

Pile 1⛓

Pile 2🗡

Pile 3🏚

Pile 4🤝

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 🖤

Pile 1⛓

Sign energy: Choice, Distance, Crave, Important, Treat, Leo, Gemini, Mars, Sun, Neptune, 💁‍♀️👋👊🧛‍♀️

🖤Your person's energy: We have a lot of masculine energy right here so my pile 1's person is very bold and speaks their mind. You would describe them as "dreamy" and "hot" stuff like that lol so cute😍 Could be Leo, Gemini, Aries, or Scorpio, not really getting the Pisces vibe but for some of you maybe ヘ_(ッ)_/ Your person has a very fierce aura and they may have very intimidating features e.g arched eyebrows or a canine-like smile. They try to behave themselves and remain respectful, but I can tell they have it BAD for my pile 1!!🔥❤ Your person is giving off such a bad boy/girl vibe. They are so independent and no one can tell them what to do, they just do what they want~ They're a very physical person and they might sometimes get aggressive with you and lose control of themselves, this is only out of intense attraction for my lovely pile 1.😌 But they do their best to keep it together and not let their wild side get the best of them. Their voice is a huge turn on for you, and if they slick their hair back... that's when you lose it LOL🤣😳 Very strong willed individual, they have a great sense of self. The type to have a lot of admirers aswell.

💭Their hidden fantasies: Locked, Admiration, Force, Seduction, Closed, Sun, 5th house, Venus, Taurus, Virgo, 🧘‍♀️⛈🕸📆 OMGGG things just got heated in here😭😖 It's gonna be intense my pile 1's your person has some dark thoughts running around in their head. They're crazy about watching you give in, it drives them seriously. They wanna handcuff you, hold you down and force you to look at them/admire them😰😰🙊❤ Oh my gosh this is serious like they're crazy about you my pile 1... You're feeding their inner demons and aggressions they just want to unleash when you two are alone!! They want to seduce you and make you say their name... They fantasize about kissing your neck, and they wanna see how much you can take like wtf pile 1 your person is so intense and passionate about you like wow...🥵 They specifically want to make you nervous, they love the thought of you getting butterflies in your stomach as they literally consume you omg. They want to retrain and contain you while thrilling you every second... holding you down with a strong grip on your wrists as they please the hell out of you until you're moaning their name😭😭😭 Yes pile 1 that's what's in their head, and they're not telling ANYONE. Not even you... unless-👀

♥️Messages from your person: I don't wanna pressure you, I can see right through you, I can save you, It's karma, No one knows (This could be a karmic relationship you both are in together) Extra cards: Ladder, Dominant, Play, Darling, Clothes, Cancer, 6th house, Scorpio, Mars, 3rd house (WTF🥵🥱🌋⚠️)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🥀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the chains emoji~⛓ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading♥️

Pile 2🗡

Sign energy: Last, Lay down, Risk, Heiress, Model, South node, 7th house, Pluto, 3rd house, Gemini, 🪑🦉♋🐅

🖤Your person's energy: This could be an ex or someone from your past, it's definitely someone you have intense feelings about. I'm getting Libra or Scorpio oh hi pluto yep definitely Scorpio placements for sure.🎯 Gemini or Virgo could be in their chart or they could have these qualities. They could have Cancer in 7th house so Capricorn rising maybe!! Or Pluto in Cancer I'm seeing. Your person may be a model, they have very model-like features especially hands. I feel like you told yourself not to keep thinking about this person at one point, now here we are LOL👏💫 Your person has a very sexy appearance, you are really attracted to this person physically but also psychologically they make you 😈. They're the type to do what their told suprisingly, I feel like it's so easy to make them do whatever you want. You might not know this pile 2 but heyy now you know their little secret~ This person feels like a gamble to be with, you might feel like you're taking a huge leap of faith with them. They could be very rich or inherited lots of wealth from relatives in their family, they could he a future CEO of a company aswell. I'm getting some powerful vibes from my pile 2's person, they know what they're capable of.😌

💭Their hidden fantasies: Call, Yandere, Meant to be, Learn, Restaurant, 5th house, Eros, Neptune, 10th house, Fire, 👥🏃‍♂️🦥😩 Ohhh my pile 2 your person is totally obsessed with you and I mean (might kill) do anything for you🤭😳 They fantasize about the two of you together, sharing your experiences and everything with eachother. They can't stop thinking about calling you, they just wanna hear your voice!!🥰 Your person has suprisingly soft and sweet thoughts of you like hugging and cuddling while watching movies, eating out and walks on the beach.🌊 They actually just really fantasize about spending time with you and getting to know eachother better. But don't forget they're a little bit crazy over you too, like I mean yandere vibes over my pile 2's.😅😨 I feel like the second you two are apart they feel awful, like nothing else matters. They just wanna be around you and keep you forever. They fantasize about having fun with you, hoping you won't run away. They're addicted to you, and they secretly love the thought of moaning for you💭😳🖤 They have fantasies about you dominating them or putting them in their place, they get so turned on when you ask them to do something for you. They love being worthy for you, omg I feel like they also fantasize kissing/touching you when you're sleeping/unconscious. They fantasize of anyone that gets close to you simply disappearing, taking you all for themself.🥰🔪❤

♥️Messages from your person: Right now, You read my mind, I'm not as great as I appear, You have a lot to offer, You're pretty (Awwweee pile 2 did you hear that???😍💖) Extra cards: Audience, Work, Dance, Head, Only one, Leo, 11th house, 2nd house, 5th house, Libra

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🥀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the sword emoji~🗡 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading♥️

Pile 3🏚

Sign energy: Red, Care-taker, Shoes, Authority, Secret admirer, Uranus, Neptune, Sun, Cancer, Aries, 👅🌁🌊🙋‍♂️

🖤Your person's energy: My pile 3's your person is a very bright and charismatic person~⭐ They have a great smile that makes it hard not to smile back. Very strong masculine vibes, could have  prominent veins or muscles. They like the color red and feel drawn to it. Very likely a secret admirer or has a little crush on you. They make unique expressions especially with their mouth/tongue. May stick their tongue out often, they have a very unique tongue (just saying🙄😈❗) They may live near a bridge or body of water. They like to "wave" at people a lot haha, very friendly and outgoing. They are a very dominant type and are very assertive but also caring protective over those they care about. Care-free and fun loving individual, Their father could be very intimidating or cold. Pile 3 your person has nice ankles/feet or you may stare at their shoes at lot (because you get nervous!!🤭😳). They have your back when you need them, very supportive and helpful. I feel like they work around animals or care for them often. The type to be a shoulder to cry on, and lighten your mood.☀️ Their chest is very attractive to you, they have a very masculine chest. Seriously they just have such a dominant attitude about them!!😫😉

💭Their hidden fantasies: Black, Keep a secret, Virgo, Ability, Meant to be, 6th house, Venus, South node, 10th house, Moon, 🌡🩺💅☀️ Ohhh you guys your person has some secret thoughts abt you!! They think about you guys' past a lot, and they fantasize about a hidden love affair between you two. They want you to do as they say, submitting to their dominance.😳🥵 They fantasize about owning you, making you their little pet, controlling you, they like imagining you with a collar/leash💀🥵🥵 They want to "keep" you. Leading you, being your "savior". Taking care of you, this all makes them horny af😭 Calling your name in a commanding way, "good girl/boy" and "you did well". They can't stop thinking about your 🍒🍑, they want to touch them, grab them... the list goes on and on. Tugging on your chain, Lifting your chin up, They fantasize about the sensation of your nails on their skin. Scratches and bite marks are all up in their imagination. My pile 3 your person thinks you're so hot and meant to be with them, they want you to be theirs!!

♥️Messages from your person: Don't underestimate me, I can't control myself, You make me happy, I do, No one makes me feel this way (Ahh so cute🥰) Extra cards: Peace, Distance, 10th house, First, Eyelashes, 3rd house, Moon, Gemini, Earth, Virgo

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🥀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the haunted house emoji~🏚 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading♥️

Pile 4🤝

Sign energy: Fashion, Think outside the box, Accusation, Only time will tell, First, Gemini, Water, 2nd house, Capricorn, Scorpio, 🎭💜😢🖌

🖤Your person's energy: I'm seeing a really cute person tbh their energy is just so lovely and sweet~ They may be a painter or like drawing, could be an artist. Fashion designer is coming through, they may be into clothing. They have many charms about them, but they can be very distrustful of others. They are quick to assume things about other people, making them disappointed in nearly every encounter with someone.👥 For some reason I'm getting thay they don't get along with Gemini's easily, they could have a lot of Gemini or Mercury influence in their chart, Scorpio mercury is likely. Could be Capricorn or Taurus, They could have Mercury in the 2nd house. For a lot of you this person is a Libra rising which makes sense because of the fashion, they like aesthetically pleasing things. This could be you they find pleasing pile 4~😊 You could be dating this person but for most of you I'm getting not yet in a relationship with them. I feel like your person plays around with you often and enjoys getting on your nerves. On the other hand, they might not outwardly express themselves on the surface, actually I'm getting for some of you this person only expresses their emotions through art or creative ideas. Only then will you see a glimpse of their true feelings.🤍🖤

💭Their hidden fantasies: Boyfriend, Attraction, Tease, Foreign, End, 9th house, Virgo, Air, Taurus, Sagittarius, 💉💎🆚️♋ Hmmm okayyy we got some heavy Sagittarius energy this could be a sign that they wanna explore my pile 4's to the fullest. Your person has fantasies of taking you to a foreign place/country far away, taking you on a crazy adventure just to have you all to themselves. I feel like the wanna see how much you can take, mentally and physically. So they're always teasing you, trying to get reactions out of you. They have fantasies of biting your neck playfully and watching you freak out, they love the thought of you blushing over them. They want to please themselves with you, and surprise you with crazy fun.🥵😝💫 They wanna try so many different new things with you, and you're their test subject. They want you to see them as hot and attractive, they just wanna get you on your knees for them.🔥 Playing around, wearing you down, kissing you roughly when you're weak and vulnerable. They fantasize a lot about these sort of things with you, Your thighs are a turn on for them, as well as your neck and stomach. They want to give you marks all over so you know you're theirs. They imagine you falling head over heels for them, this is what they want the most. They want you to be in awe over them, your devotion is their biggest fantasy. And they just wanna have a crazy wild fun time😈💥💋🎆

♥️Messages from your person: I can't control myself, Give me more, I can't take anymore, You deserve the best, Because of you, I have a lot to offer (Ahh they're so into my pile 4's😍) Extra cards: Vision, Emotions, Future, Red, Expand, Mars, Cancer, Venus, Water, 6th house (They really want a future with you, they want to stay with you. They're serious you guys!!💐💍🖤)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🥀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the holding hands emoji~🤝 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading♥️

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!🖤🌊🥀

Thanks for reading everyone! \(*^w^)/🖤 -Lunadream <3

[avelera]

maybe I'm remembering wrong but I feel like some time ago I saw a post from you theorizing that Mel was Jayce's first for like, everything. I was wondering if you would be willing to expand on why you think that ;0

Yeah it's this post where I talk about how Jayce has the vibe of, "Intimidatingly hot girl that is so hot no one has ever asked her out before so she thinks she's unlovable."

I think Mel thought Jayce was a fuckboi. I mean, look at him! He totally looks like a muscle jock with a 1000 watt smile, who seems to soak up the adoration of the crowd, who seems based on his looks like he must have a vibrant sex life of sleeping with whoever he wants. To my eyes, Mel 100% thought that by sleeping with Jayce she would just be one of many and she could use the influence from that encounter to continue to manipulate him, but it would be a totally casual, sexual encounter.

Her belief he's a fuckboi seems to be confirmed when he's not there in the morning after they sleep together. You can see what's going through her head. She's thinking, "Welp, sleep with a fuckboi and you get a fuckboi. I don't know why I thought a party guy like that would stick around after, but I'm still disappointed." She is pissed and seems personally hurt/offended when he comes "crawling" back to apologize, and then he reveals it's because the single most important person in his life is dying.

Everything changes after that. Mel realizes she misunderstood Jayce. She realizes when he puts his head in her lap and kisses her wrist and is casually physically affectionate with her that she super-duper misread the situation. Jayce isn't a fuckboi. They slept together once and he thinks they're dating now! Mel actually looks like she's panicking there at how seriously he's taking this "relationship" AND she's realizing that she's taking him away from the actual love of his life, Viktor, so she fucked up big time. She literally reads the situation and immediately clocks, in my opinion, that Jayce is with the wrong person right now and possibly hasn't been aware of his love for Viktor and vice versa and as the one emotionally intelligent person in that trio says, "You lunatic, go back to your man right now, wtf are you doing here with me??" in so many words. She feels guilty and she realizes she fucked up and this actually very sweet guy is attached to her now. That's when she really begins to have feelings for him too but very much despite herself IMO.

As for Jayce being a virgin, or very near to it, I mean... Jayce doesn't notice people are attracted to him. He just doesn't. He's got random people sighing over him during Progress Day and he doesn't notice. He visibly swallows with nerves when Mel mildly flirts with him. He's not a fuckboi at all, if anything he's oblivious.

Basically, I think it fits that if Mel's not his actual first, she could very well be near his first. Jayce has been busy lately! Hextech is his dream, he's working at all hours, he's a hyperfixating nerd who spends all hours with his lab partner and if he's been hopelessly pining after Viktor then that's even more evidence he might have been "saving himself" for a marriage that didn't seem to be happening. Even when Mel kisses him, IMO Jayce's pause as he calculates whether or not he should reciprocate feels like he's thinking, "Do I have a shot with Viktor? No, sadly. Viktor's made it clear he's not interested so I might as well stop denying myself other relationships, especially with someone who expresses real interest and acts on it in a way my nerd-boy brain can understand." (Jayce is direct, he thinks in straight lines, and Mel flirts in the one way he understands IMO, but that's a meta for another day.)

So err, at the risk of rambling for 10 more pages, I think that addresses your question?

[harryslittlefreakk]

arrogant s.o.b

summary: based on this request - grumpy/mean Harry and readers first fight and he says something really harsh/yells and makes her cry? And then feels really bad after like grumpyxsunshine vibes?

warnings: angst

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: thank you to the anon who sent in this request!! 🥰💖 sorry it took me a while to get around to it. please let me know if this isn’t quite what you wanted, i don’t know if I’m 100% happy with it so im more than willing to tweak and rewrite!!!

my masterlist!! please feel free to send me more requests 💓 happy reading

“I miss you, Harry.”

You knew you were pushing it, he was already working himself to breaking point. But you couldn’t help it, you missed your boyfriend. His break was meant to be about finding time for himself again, spending time with his loved ones. And you thought that meant being with you, not spending every day confined to the four walls of a recording studio.

“I can’t delay my entire album because you miss me.”

“I’m not asking you to delay the entire album. Just take a day off, just once.”

“Why?! For what?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Now you were both pissed off. You didn’t understand why Harry couldn’t just slow down. You’d only been able to see him in Italy for a few days, your work schedule unexpectedly busy. Part of you thought he was ‘punishing’ you for that, the sane part of you knew that his summer in Italy was his rest, and now he was back in London he needed to work. Harry’s work ethic was one of the things you admired most about him, and now you were arguing with him over it.

“Clearly it does matter.” He was stood by the door, keys in his hand, a dark scowl printed on his face.

“It’s fine, just go. Have a good day.” The hurt was evident in your voice, but you didn’t even want Harry to stay now with the atmosphere you’d created.

He hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. Finally, he sighed and turned to walk out the door without another word. The sound of the door swinging shut behind him echoed through the silent room, leaving you alone in your thoughts.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you sank into the sofa. You’d pushed him away when all you wanted was for him to stay. You knew you’d always come second to his career, he prioritised you over almost everything in his life but his music was so important to him. But once he finished recording, there would be interviews and appearances, then a tour, and then you’d be back here again. It was constant, unrelenting, and if he couldn’t even sacrifice one day for you, how could you expect him to slow down?

—

Harry stood frozen on the other side of the door, still stuck between needing to come back in and wanting to go. It never usually got to this point, one of you would back down before someone got hurt. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you. He hated fighting, hated seeing you upset. But he was only now realising that it was usually you that compromised. He knew you well, and for you to actually speak up and ask him to stay despite knowing how important his work is to him? He’d fucked up.

He leaned against the door, his hand gripping the handle tightly as he closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. Guilt washed over him as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he needed to find a balance between his work and his relationship, but it was easier said than done.

His hand fell from the door handle as he turned on his heel, dragging his feet away from the house. If he was going to make it right, he needed to be armed with all of your favourite things.

—

Harry replayed the morning in his head the entire time he was out. You’d woken up to his alarm as always, rolling over in his arms to wake him up with soft kisses. “Why do you set alarms if you know you can’t wake up for them?” you laughed, tapping at his nose as his eyes fluttered open. “Because you wake up and I get morning kisses,” he smiled, pulling you tighter to his chest.

He remembered how the morning light hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your puffy eyes and blushed cheeks. He’d caught himself wishing he could have five more minutes in bed with you, time to savour waking up next to his love. But he’d rolled out of bed in the same way as always, slipping out from under you just as you tried to curl your body around his.

You’d followed him to the bathroom silently, lingering in the doorway as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Wish I got to see you more,” you’d mumbled, eyes following his through the mirror. “You see me every day, kitten,” he’d replied, poking his tongue out when he saw you watching. He’d noticed your face fall slightly, a misty kind of sadness replace the natural glint in your eye. He cringed as he thought back, but he’d purposely ignored it to save himself the trouble.

“I see you when I wake up and just before bed,” you’d pouted, eyes glued to your suddenly fidgety hands. “I cant help that right now, pet. You know I can’t,” he’d tried to reason with you, and looking back, Harry thought maybe he was trying to convince himself. “Just a morning or an afternoon at home would be nice. Not even a full day,” you’d told him, voice cracking as you looked back up at him.

“I can’t have this conversation right now,” he’d muttered, kicking at the door until it swung closed in front of you.

And there he was now, heart struck with guilt at the thought of how badly he had neglected you.

—

As he heard your keys jingle outside the door, Harry finished rearranging his purchases across the bed. He gave one final look to the flowers on your windowsill, the beautiful blush pink roses he knew you loved. It was perfect, he just hoped it would be enough.

“Hi darling,” he smiled sheepishly as he walked down the stairs.

“Hi, H,” you replied, brows knitted as you stared at him. “What are you doing?”

“Come,” Harry murmured, reaching out a hand for you to take. You dropped your bag by door and took it, fingers tangling with his as he lead you back to the bedroom.

He stopped outside the bedroom door, pulling you into his arms. “M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “Didn’t think about what it’s like for you. I need time with you just as much as you need it w’me.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you told him, cuddling into his chest. “Nothing to be sorry for, pet.”

“Shouldn’t have pushed you like that,” you murmured, eyes closed as you breathed in his musky aftershave.

“Gave me the push I needed. M’not good at taking time off.”

“Don’t have to tell me that,” you laughed, stepping away from him as he turned to open the bedroom door.

“Got you your perfect day,” he smiled, stepping out of the way so you could see his creation.

All your favourite snacks were laid out on the bed, your matching pyjamas folded on the corner. The most beautiful flowers you’d ever seen in your favourite vase on the windowsill, candles lit on your nightstand and a cheesy rom com loaded on the tv.

“You did all of this?” you cooed, a grin spreading across your face as your gaze turned to Harry. He nodded, pulling his t-shirt off.

“Nuh uh,” you swatted his hand away as he reached to pick up the pyjama top. “Only my perfect day if you’re topless,” you smirked, quickly peeling your clothes off to throw the pyjamas on.

You climbed into bed next to Harry, pulling the duvet up to your chin before wrapping your body around his, your head at home on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, arms wrapped right around you.

“Made a few calls. Gonna start only doing three days at a time in the studio, then three days off,” he whispered, grinning when you immediately whipped round to look at him. “Don’t have to do that for me baby,” you gasped, brows furrowed.

“It’s the right call. Just gonna be longer days but worth it all if it means more time with you,” Harry winked, his hand caressing the curve of your waist.

You shifted upwards, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” you smiled. “And congratulations.”

Harry returned your kiss, his lips lingering just a second longer than yours had. His touch and his kisses felt like home to you, his smile your lifeblood. “To me? For what?”

“To us. For our first fight,” you giggled, holding out a hand to high-five Harry. He grabbed a hold of your hand, using it to pull you even closer to him, until your faces were only centimetres apart.

“Here’s to our first and last fight,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. His teeth latched onto your bottom lip as he went in for another kiss, the rocky waves in your stomach turning to butterflies as his tongue moved around yours.

You pulled away after a minute, settling back into his arms with a smile so bright it could have lit up the room.

“Can’t believe we started the day with you thinking your album is more important than me,” you mumbled, a mischievous sparkle in your eye as you tangled your fingers between Harry’s.

“Millions of adoring fans who’d do anything for me versus one woman? I know who I’m picking,” he teased, laughing as you smacked his thigh with your free hand.

“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, peering up at him.

“Hm?”

“About you being an arrogant son of a bitch.”

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever

[dr3amfyr-e]

modern!jace bf thoughts ( wc. 1117 )

i’m shaking and foaming at the mouth I NEED HIM. i had to expel this from my brain before i could sleep, i’ll prob write more about these at some point. or maybe i’ll abandon this blog in a week 🤷‍♀️ we’ll see. i am able and willing to expand upon any of these, ask box is open >:)

jacaerys who is, first and foremost, a gentleman. he’s opening the door for you, pulling out your chair, giving you his jacket.

he buys you flowers — he knows your favorite kind, dw. he’s like the kind of boyfriend who makes lists of what their partner likes, but he doesn’t make a list, he just knows.

is it a little unnerving? maybe! but he just loves you :3

jacaerys who thinks to be loved is to be known. he wants to read your favorite books and listen to your favorite songs. he wants to know your coffee order and try it, so that he can experience something he knows you love. ( his is a caramel macchiato. btw. )

jacaerys who is so attentive and mother hen. he can clock if anything is wrong, like any change in your demeanor. in your vibe.

he’s brushing the hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ears. he’s fixing your jacket collar and re-looping your scarf. ( i want to say he fixes your posture, but look at his )

he can, and will, fix any problem you have. just tell him! confide in him! he wants you to!

he’s kind of a worrywort. did you eat? would you like to eat? how much did you sleep? are you okay? are you okay? hey, are you okay?

jacaerys who always smells good, and has clean clothes, but will force you to hug him when he’s sweaty from football ( ⚽️ ) or a run. gross!

speaking of running, if you stay with him at his family’s home in Dragonstone at any point over the summer you will be going for a run with him! sorry!

he’s talking you through it ( the run ) . he’ll go at your pace and coach you. you don’t have to go far either! he thinks you’re bonding by doing this 😊 ( he is wrong )

jacaerys who craves physical affection. he wants you touching him RIGHT NOW. PLEASE.

he’s got his arms around and/or his hand in yours, just, all of the time. fingers interlocked too, he will be adjusting your hand to achieve this position! :)

you’re sitting on the couch? he’ll be next to you in a sec! god forbid you want to sit in an armchair, he is in your lap ( jk. not really. ). he goes out of his way to be directly next to his partner. he’s standing next to you, sitting beside you. if you have class together, his seat is next to yours! eating together, he’s sitting next to you there too. he will also lay on top of you; if you’re vertical so is he.

but, to be more serious: he thrives on the reassurance. if you’re holding his hand, he knows you’re with him. if he can wrap his arms around your waist from behind, it’s reassurance that you’re not going anywhere, he’s got you.

( children of divorce* just act like this, dw )

jacaerys who feels all of his emotions. he does not bottle things up 🙅‍♀️

he cries: when he’s frustrated, when he’s upset, when he’s angry — especially in front of his mom ( this is canon )

sure, he’s confident and self-assured. but he’s also vulnerable, and it’s good!!!

he confides in you ( a big believer in ‘date your best friend’ ), he hopes you feel safe to do the same <3

i talked about it in this post — he can be really mean. it’s defensive, he doesn’t mean to, but it happens much more than he’d like ( he’s still unlearning things from his childhood )

it rears its head when you’re arguing, or if he feels trapped. and he’s good at it too, hitting the most tender spot he can.

he feels awful afterwards. he’s always quick to acknowledge what he did and apologize. if you cry, he’ll probably cry too ( that’s just how the cookie crumbles 🤷‍♀️ )

he’s on your level, holding your face in his hands, telling you how sorry he is. and, maybe he’s kissing the tears off of your cheeks — but, that’s between you and him

he’s aware of how unhealthy this defense mechanism is, he’s working on it! call him out! make him aware! he might not like it in the moment, but afterwards he’s appreciative. ( he’s in therapy! — all of rhaenyra and alicent’s kids are . )

jacaerys who drives and lets you mess with his radio. so often it’s his siblings and step-siblings he’s driving around, and he just wants to listen to his podcast, please, luke, don’t touch the radio.

but you? whatever! you can spend the whole car ride adjusting the station, or trying to pick a song on aux and he won’t care! or, you could talk over the radio ( he’s yelling at his brothers for this ) ! he just likes your presence.

both-hands-on-the-wheel driver, he might hold your hand at stop lights though. when he has to break hard he puts his arm out in front of you, to stop you from going forwards ( do you guys know what i’m talking about? ) he has supreme big brother reflexes

jacaerys who wants you to like his family so bad. they’re so important to him.

his best friend is his fifteen-year-old brother and he’s a major mama’s-boy, and he’s not embarrassed! he is a little nervous for you to meet everyone. it’s too hard to explain, so he doesn’t.

“ that’s my step-mother. yeah, she was married to my grandfather before she was married to my mother. um, so my step-siblings are technically my uncles and aunt. yeah, it’s kind of confusing. “

jacaerys who loves taking pictures of you. digital or film or phone, he’s on you like paparazzi. candid king.

you’re also going to be all over his instagram, sorry. he’s an instagram story fanatic, so you’re featured often. he prob has a highlight dedicated to you titled “ <3 “ or something.

jacaerys is a big kisser.

he’s kissing you on the mouth, often. probably when he shouldn’t.

most of the time it’s chaste kisses in parting, or sweet pecks because he just remembered he can do that!

also big on kissing your forehead and cheeks. and the column of your throat.

he’s polite and respectful! he will also make out with you any chance he can! slipping tongue in the stairwell at one of his mother’s galas. we are in public. ( he doesn’t care )

jacaerys who is such a lover boy. he just wants to love you, and show you how much he does. he takes pictures to immortalize memories ( okay roland barthes ) and engages in the things you love to experience you more intimately. he wants to make sure you’re safe, and happy, and cherished — like you deserve to be.

he wants to love, and to be loved.

[broken-spirit101]

Douma - Yandere Alphabet

A/N: I'm on my knees for this man 🛐 Yandere alphabets are so fun! I haven't written anything smutty before so some of them might not be too awesome. I thought I might do one for Douma since I couldn't find any lol Original alphabet found here.

Warnings: Yandere themes, blood GIFs, murder, torture (not on the reader), abduction, mentions of NSFW

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get? Douma would buy tons of gifts for you every single day. If you want a crown, he'd get it for you! Other than that, expect to get showered in tons of kisses. It can get pretty heated, but Douma is a PLEASER when it comes to you. He would want you to enjoy it as well, so he wouldn't take it too far if you don't want him to. That is until his patience runs out.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling? He has no limits. A guy has been glancing or talking to you a bit too much? He's getting murdered in a blink of an eye. However, if someone hurts you, they're probably getting tortured the very day you told him about it. His favorite torture method is to throw that person covered in sweet, sticky honey into a room full of insects like caterpillars, cockroaches, spiders, and other disgusting creatures. The person would get eaten alive slowly, getting stripped of their life gradually but definitely.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them? This bitch is cocky. He would be so proud of the fact that you're entirely at his mercy. He's sadistic: he would point out that very fact just to get your pissed-off reaction. Other than that, he would give you the PRINCESS TREATMENT™. Want a garden attached to your room? He's got it made for you within a day. Want a crown? He'll get it delivered to your room within an hour. Heck, want the blue spider lily? He's ordering all his minions to go out to search for it and would actually put in the effort HIMSELF to find it for you. Fuck Muzan, you're way more important.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will? It wouldn't be Douma if he didn't. Despite being a pleaser, his patience runs thin. He'll coerce you into doing some... special activities with him, even if you don't want to. He's manipulative and would definitely guilt-trip you.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling? He would go yandere for you only because you help him feel at least some semblance of emotions, if not more. He's drunk on the feeling of love that only you give him. He wouldn't show his vulnerable emotions like sadness or anger often (which started to sprout after you protested heavily when he initially abducted you). You're his most prized possession.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back? Of course, he can be emotionally stupid, despite having observed human emotions for centuries. He would actually not have a clue why you'd protest being abducted despite having all the luxuries he could offer. He would gently try to persuade you to just listen to him and live the lifestyle he offers, telling you that you'd grow to love it. You wouldn't even have to lift a finger! However, if you still oppose him, he will use some force to try to get you to submit to him, starting with just breaking the wrist of your non-dominant hand. See, he's actually considerate!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape? Initially, yes. The first couple of attempts of you trying to escape would be amusing to him. It gives prey-predator vibes, and honestly? It turns him on. But not for too long, it would tire him out, because you obviously can't get rid of him. It's pretty cute but annoying.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them? The punishments. He's very rough, whether it's breaking your bones or fucking you senseless. It would be torture. He's just showing you the trailer of what would happen if you don't listen to him, at least, that's what he says.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling? I doubt he'd care too much about getting married to you. After all, you're already his, so what is the sense of going through a wedding? Starting a family wouldn't be his first priority either if you don't want one. As long as you're with him, he doesn't mind. Oh, yeah, he'd definitely turn you into a demon not too late after abducting you if you already aren't one. Can't afford losing his darling due to some stupid illness or age, can he?

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope? Does he ever even try to hold himself back? He'd get jealous every now and then, not as an overwhelming emotion, but as just a twinge that pricks at his mind whenever he sees you interacting with anyone other than him. The person who's making him jealous would disappear without a trace within a day.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling? He's very sweet and clingy when he's with you, believe it or not. Would pretty much whine for you when you deprive him of physical touch. He'd pepper you with kisses to see you blush. Just the sight of it is eye candy to him.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling? Love letters? Hell nah. It's just not his thing. Sure, he'd leave you sweet little notes like "I miss you :(" or "You're so pretty, you know that?" in your room every now and then, and it's adorable. His love language consists of physical contact, gifts, and his occasional sweet little gestures.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else? Uh, yeah. We all know the answer to that. As I said before, he's going to be whiny and clingy and sweet whenever he's with you, but don't irritate him by doing anything he's forbidden you to do. A different part of his personality would be revealed in that case.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling? :/ don't make me do this. He'd fuck you in the most unholy ways you could think of, like you're some slut or a ragdoll. Would be into exhibitionism. He would fuck you until you're just an incoherently blabbing mess and would gracefully continue to wipe out the followers that would witness the little performance you both put forward for them.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling? Your freedom would depend on the ability you have to escape. If you're a demon slayer who can easily overpower his followers to escape, he's caging you in a room with a fucking metal door, him being the only one who's allowed to come in 😭 Expect to be chained even inside your room, if that's the case. If you're an ordinary human, he'd allow some of his trusted followers to let you roam around during the night when he's usually out. Never during the day though, because if you still somehow manage to escape, he wouldn't be able to go after you until the night sets, and by then, you would have covered a fair distance away from him. Other than freedom, he would also control the amount of food you get. If you're being too rebellious, don't expect any meals. He loves the power trip, you being so weak compared to him. A literal asshole.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling? Yeah, don't even get me started on that. Douma would let you off a maximum of 2-3 times if you rebel or just don't consent to the kinky shit he wants to do with you. The 4th time's always the last straw.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on? For a considerable time, no. If you manage to escape and he isn't able to find you, he'd cling onto that small string of hope that he would eventually find you. You're always lingering the the backrooms of his mind. If you die, however, he wouldn't be able to move on from you for at least a year or two before he forgets all about the emotions you made him feel that he loved when you were with him.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go? He wouldn't regret it at all, no, but he would slightly feel bad about it if you made it clear how much you despise having your freedom taken away. Douma would never return you your freedom until you manage to win his trust fully that you love him and would never expect. The freedom, too, comes with a cost. You'll have a strict curfew like you're some child. If you don't abide by it, don't expect the same amount of freedom for a couple of months.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)? Just the feelings that you manage to stem out from somewhere deep within him that's gotten him addicted to you like some drug.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves? Confused as fuck. He can't understand why you'd want to go back to your home. He takes good care of you, no? Why would you want to go back to your friends or family? They don't love you like he does. They never can. Just crying or screaming won't get you much of your freedom back. He has a soft spot for you so he'd feel bad, so he gives you some privileges, if possible. However, if you isolate yourself for longer periods, his patience would eventually run out before he'd punish you.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere? Not really; his insanity pretty much makes him the perfect definition of a classic yandere, doesn't it?

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape? It's how stupid he is when it comes to emotions. He's been observing human emotions for centuries, and while he can't connect with them, he can predict how people will react to certain stimuli. However, deeper emotions can't be predicted; they are only understood. Somehow, if you manage to exploit that weakness of his, get him to trust you, and become vulnerable with him using fake emotions, you can regain your freedom after years. It's a long shot, but it could work.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling? Yes. Mentally? He's always mentally torturing you in some way. Physically? Only when you piss him off too much.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over? He absolutely is down bad. Extremely clingy. He would do anything to make you love him. Just listen to him once, will you? Douma will treat you like the absolute goddess you are.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap? He isn't the most patient person ever, as I said before, so about half a year at maximum.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling? Definitely, if you're protesting a bit too much for his liking. He'll manipulate you to the point where you're begging for his touch. He wants complete control over your mind and body.

Map

[zvezdacito]

Ranking Malleus's Valentines Messages from 2021-2024🔥

People finally got the 2024 ones so I decided to make a list like this. Mostly based off which ones have both the most interesting contents and which ones are the sweetest(?) in a sense to Yuu lol. Terminal Malleyuu brain + and I mean they are Valentines cards after all.

Going from least to most personally favored:

4th: 2023

Text: "To my dear friend-

Thank you. Never did I envision someone presenting me with the gift of sweet treats. It would be a shame for me to eat them all by myself. I think I'll share them with you. Would you be willing to provide the tea to go with them?"

Very broadly friendly and nice I guess, but the message of the text is basic and the design of the letter card is also kinda basic🥀 like tbh if you changed the color of this card you could mistake this for something Riddle wrote instead. The ones for this year really just felt like they ran out of ideas and gave up, this is the only one on this list I can say I definitely don't really like that much

3rd: 2022

Text: "To my good friend-

A gift? For me, of all people? Your tastes are...distinctive, I must say. Worry not, though- I enjoyed it, of course. What would you like in return, I wonder? I shall take great pleasure in speculating the answer to that question."

Definitely more interesting than the 2023 one and his personality really comes out in the writing here. Though because of how his closeness to Yuu is characterized here I now feel like it would make more sense if this was the first card and the 2021 was the second one, since if you take the cards to be written in a chronological timeline it kinda feels like Malleus's closeness to Yuu regressed out of nowhere

Not saying people can't change or grow apart later on, but here it kinda has the vibe that he straight up hasn't met them much yet so its as if this was earlier into their relationship. Basically feels if Book 3-4 Malleus got the gift, while 2021 is like Book 6 and onwards Malleus getting the gift.

I really like this one both for the yuu crumbs and it's characterization of Malleus himself, but it's number 3 simply by default of me personally liking the next two more. The gap between it and 2023 is huge😭

2nd: 2024

Text: "To my good friend-

Thank you for your gift. Hmm... This fragrance is meant for pleasure and relaxation? What a tasteful choice. I rather like it; perhaps I shall take more of an interest in these things. You would be welcome to pay me a visit, by the way, should you feel so inclined. I would enjoy sharing an old tale or two."

These are probably the most fun design for the letter cards so far. I think after last year (the 2023 one) they realized they really did run out of ideas for box shaped letters lol.

In general I just like the very sweet and casual friendship implied in this card. As usual he is doing everything in his power to invite Yuu to his place at any given opportunity. Cute how when they hang out they'll tell each other chismis stories, and that Malleus is gonna commit to getting into something just because Yuu gifted it to him. TLDR he's very comfortable around Yuu here that's awesome

1st: 2021

Text: "Dearest,

My thanks for such a truly wonderful present. It is only fitting that I should give you something in return. How about the gift of beauty? Perhaps the gift of song? Or... Well, never mind. Just a joke based on the legends, you know. I shall give you something I picked out myself."

I don't really think anything will ever fully top this one tbh. The greeting just being "Dearest" was so powerful they had to pull bro to the side and tell him to tone it down for the next 3 years🥀

The "gift of beauty song or..." lines can be taken as just him being 3 seconds away from jumping to smooch Yuu (given in the movie the last gift was true loves kiss related after maleficent cursed the baby) which is honestly kinda funny. Down bad /j

Ok back to the main point and minus speculations. This is tied with the 2024 one with showing how close and comfortable (shown by how forward and playful he is here no concern of maintaing image or such) this point of his relationship with Yuu is. This is also the card where he feels the most excited and energetic I guess which is why it's still my overall favorite. Displex had no choice contain the raw Malleyuu power in this one to avoid bias accusations idk

If you want to read into it more I think it's also kinda funny that this could lowkey be taken as him saying we suck at singing/look ugly. And the reason he stopped before revealing the last line is because he realize the joke had already come off as insulting to a human not familiar with the Briar Valley even if his intention was just to be playful as friends do.

Although that would be consistent with the characterization of Malleus as being honest if anyone's performance in something (even Yuu from what we see in voicelines) is lackluster.

He is constructive tho. In these same voicelines usually offers to help teach them to get better and acknowledging it as a feat/compliment itself when they slightly improve, instead of the fanon characterization (usually for masterchef comics) that once he finds out Yuu is behind something he will autonomatically just see it as good quality already.

So yeah idk that's nice and awesome

↑ Drive compiling of the rest of the 2024 Valentines letter pics I found on twitter. There's still some characters missing + trying to look for a clearer picture of the Malleus one lol

[redwhitebuddie]

max gao with lou ferrigino jr. about season 7

“It was a discussion if I would be willing to have this romantic moment [with Buck], which would be very dissimilar to what I have been really doing thus far,” Ferrigno Jr. tells The Hollywood Reporter in his first official interview about his return to 9-1-1.”

The storyline between Buck and Tommy “evolved over time, but I knew that it was going to be with Oliver, and I’ve always been a fan of Oliver and his work,” Ferrigno Jr. says. “I think that it was going to be an experience that would be very beautiful and tender. It just goes beyond labels. It goes beyond names, groups, orientations. It’s two connected souls, and that’s what I wanted to achieve.”

I mean, who’s not attracted to Buck? He’s lovable. He’s a hot dude. He’s a hero. Tommy is just vibing [at first], and then all of a sudden, when he just got that cue [in episode four] — when Buck said, “I’ve been trying to get your attention,” and Tommy is like, “My attention?”

I briefly touched [Buck’s] chin to bring him in [for the first kiss] — and they’re very real situations. I’m putting myself in the situation: If it’s my friend and I’m here, and I’m going to go in for this kiss, that would just come about. But when I did the chin thing, [the fans] were on Twitter [asking me], “Was this scripted or not?” And then I just randomly chimed in because I was like, “No, it was my choice. Do you approve?” And then they were all like, “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” And then basically they’re saying, “Thank you for being so gentle with Buck.”

[tkwrites]

It might be a tad depraved of me. But would you consider writing a blurb or something of Sarah reacting to Quinn shaving his playoff beard? Poor girl wasn't warned that her last time being pleasured and stimulated by it was her last. Huggy bear betta make it up to her 😉 (if you are willing to do a blurb, you don't have to actually include the smut even though you have a gift at writing that girl! I just think it could be a fun little scene of her seeing him clean shaven, maybe even a cute domestic vibe idk, this ask is too long 😂)

Also ohhh not long until you post Nicos next part and I am very excited 😝

Hi my Lovely, inspiration struck for your ask in the middle of the night about a week ago, and I've been finessing it ever since. I hope you enjoy what I came up with!

Photo from Pinterest

Blurb (664 words) below the cut. Allusions to smut, but nothing is described.

“Oh,” Sarah said when Quinn walked out of the bathroom. 

“What?” he asked, a hand going to his cheek. He didn’t think he’d cut himself.

“I just…I didn’t realize you were shaving.” 

“Was I not supposed to?”

A blush rose high on her cheeks. “No,” she said hesitantly, as if she was saying it because it was something he wanted to hear. 

“What?” Quinn asked. He saw right through her acting. The more he got to know Sarah, the more he realized what a terrible liar she was. 

“I just think you look really handsome with a beard,” she said. 

“I thought you didn’t like the facial hair.”

“I don’t like stubble. That hurts, but once it’s grown out, I like it.” 

“I can grow it out again.” 

“I know. I’d just kind of hoped you’d keep it until you moved home.”

“Why?” 

“It feels nice.” 

“It feels nice?” he repeated. “What are you talking about?” 

Sarah sighed, deciding she needed to just come out and say it. She’d talked herself into this corner. “Your beard feels nice…when you go down on me,” she confessed, feeling a flush flair down her neck and onto her chest. 

“It does, does it?”'

Biting her lip, she nodded. 

Moving closer, he slipped a hand around her waist and pulled her body flush to his own. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t think I would have to. Isn’t it tradition to keep the beard until the final? I thought you’d have it until you went back to Michigan.” 

He winced, reminding himself Sarah just started watching hockey and didn’t know the traditions like most people he knew did. “That’s only if you’re playing in the final,” he explained, “most guys shave once they’re eliminated or after they’ve won.”

“Oh.” Great. Now, after dancing around it for the last 36 hours, she’d brought up the loss. “Shit, Quinn, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head, “how would you know?” 

“Still, I’m sorry.”

He needed to change the subject. Brushing his smooth cheek against hers, he brought his mouth close to her ear and asked, “so you don’t think I’ll be as good now that I’ve shaved?” 

“I don’t…” she coughed. “I didn’t say that.” 

“But it’s what you were thinking, right?” His other hand snuck under one of her straps. 

“No.” Her heart was racing with the nearness of him. 

“Do I need to prove you wrong?”

Her voice squeaked, “no?” 

“You don’t sound too sure about that.” 

She made a small noise that sounded like a halted whine.

His mouth drifted to her pulse point, kissing and sucking the tender skin. 

“Quinn,” she breathed. 

“Hmm?” Sarah so rarely got this flustered, Quinn reveled in riling her up like this.

Desire pooled between her legs - hot and heavy. She needed him. Now.

They had to take advantage of the time they had now. His family was finally gone, though his mom would be back soon. He’d be having surgery in two days, then heading home four days after that.

"Prove me wrong.” 

He smiled against her skin and gathered a fistful of her skirt. She was wearing that damned green dress again, and he was finally going to strip it off her. Or maybe he’d push it up and eat her out just like that. 

He liked the mental image of that — of her writhing on the bed, skirt shoved up around her hips, hands tangled in his hair as he buried his face between her thighs. 

Yes, that was exactly what he was going to do. Then he’d strip it off her and make love to her as many times as his body would allow.

“On the bed," he said, nodding toward it.

She backed up until the backs of her thighs hit the mattress, then reached for the hem of her dress. 

“Leave it on,” he said, voice gruff. “I’ll take care of it.”

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

[punkymaysnark]

Is "pinkwashing" a good term for this episode? Because I got some serious "pinkwashing" vibes out of it.

I mean, IMP offed a straight couple who cheated with only a slight hangup from Moxxie. And they made that straight couple into a bunch of super-religious whackos to make sure you, the viewer, also wanted them dead.

And then the gay couple here is just shown hugging their kids and kissing on the lips. This was so charming and wholesome that only Millie was still willing to kill them. The same Blitzø who wanted to kill a "happy mother fresh out of the hospital" becomes declawed upon seeing two gay dads kissing on the lips.

It just reads to me like that thing people do where they're like "you can't fault me, I'm gay!" I'm like, "so what"? It doesn't change the fact that the husband cheated on his wife, it doesn't change that he screwed her out of the family, it doesn't change that he left her a bitter and depressed mess. We know so little about these circumstances because it's just a foil for more Stolitz shit. What if she died in poverty after he left her? And what if HE'S a terrible person under the skin, too? Gay people can still be terrible people! Seeing him cuddling his new family on Christmas doesn't fucking change that!

They even tried making the ex-wife a catty and prickly person, but not even in a way that's unjustified. One, SHE WAS CHEATED ON. Presumably died without ever having this settled. Two, I would ALSO hate being left to wait in a boring room with nothing to read and only a sad sack to talk to. She's a bitch who is right.

Really, I just watched this episode mostly for my beautiful perfect daughter Loona and seeing her happy, then left it with some unfortunate imp-lications. (Huehuehue)

[qveerthe0ry]

Naked in Manhattan

Summary: Marcus has never slept with a man, Dieter's willing to remedy that - written for @romanarose Pride Event Week 3: Sex/kissing Word Count: 7,730 Pairing: (college aged) Marcus Pike x Dieter Bravo Rating: 18+ mdni Warnings: coming out, discussions of sexuality, brief mentions of homophobia, oral sex(m), (lots of) hickeys, frottage, cum eating, armpit stuff Betas: OBVIOUSLY @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar the loves of my life 💖A/N: I highly suggest listening to Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan before/while reading this. Totally got the vibes of this entire fic by listening to it on a walk one day

Dieter’s learned a lot in his five and a half years of college. Not really much about statistics or geology, but about people. He’s been around long enough to know that the sad little guy on his front porch steps, avoiding the party, and chain smoking cigarettes is having a rough go of it. 

“Hey buddy,” Dieter says, quietly, as not to startle the slumped figure. 

Marcus looks up at him through misty eyes and a cloud of stale Winston smoke.

“Hey.”

He’s not crying, but he’s definitely crying for help.

“You okay?” 

Dieter takes a seat on the step below him.

“Yeah, fine. Just needed air.”

Marcus gestures with the cigarette in his hand, then huffs out a laugh at the irony. 

“You’ve been getting drunk a lot lately.”

Maybe Dieter shouldn’t pry. It’s not unusual for his rented house to be filled with students coming and going at all hours of the day, between classes on weekdays or all day on the weekends. The cheap beer just shows up, as does the weed, and he doesn’t usually question it. 

But he’s closer to Marcus. So he notices more. He usually only sees him here on weekends. During the week he’s commonly found in the library or the student union, books sprawled out in front of him. He’s driven, pre-law, and has a better head on his shoulders than most people he hangs with. 

But Marcus has been at his place every night this week, either stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning or sleeping late on his couch or floor. It concerns Dieter in a way that surprises him. 

Usually it’s none of his business. 

“I haven’t had a sip,” Marcus tells him. 

And his voice doesn’t have that sharp, defensive tone Dieter was expecting. It’s more defeated than anything. 

“Yeah but what about last night?” 

Marcus shrugs. 

“And the night before? And every other night this week?”

“Just having fun,” Marcus mumbles through another drag of his cigarette. 

Dieterlooks around at his empty porch.

“Are you?” 

Then Marcus laughs. It bubbles up out of him in an almost terrifying way, and damn near immediately turns into sobs hidden behind his hands. 

“Fuck, dude, are you tripping?”

Marcus shakes his head. Dieter didn’t think so. He’s strictly an alcohol guy, won’t even touch weed. Something about the FBI and polygraph tests. Dieter finds it charming if not a bit manic. 

He keeps crying though, so hard he has to flick his cigarette out onto the dimly lit street so he can rub at his eyes. 

Dieter’s not sure what to do. Normally he’d offer someone drugs, but that won’t work. 

His hand hovers over Marcus’ shaking back for a few moments before he rests a heavy palm between his shoulder blades. 

He can feel the way Marcus’ breath shudders out of him, and tells him to start taking slow breaths. When it works, Dieter’s kind of amazed at how great he is at damage control. 

“That’s it man, just breathe.” 

Marcus nods, finally removes his hands from his face. He’s always been pretty in a very preppy way, with his perfect hair and teeth and his little dimples. He looks even prettier now, as much as Dieter kicks himself for that thought. His face is red and wet and his brown eyes are wider than they’ve ever been before. 

A few deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth later, Marcus is sufficiently calm enough to speak. 

“I’m sorry.”

Dieter waves him off. 

“Don’t be. Looks like it felt good, I might have a cry later too.”

Marcus lets out a wet chuckle and shuts his eyes as one last salty little droplet brushes past his long eyelashes. 

“Everything okay at home? You’re not failing a class, are you?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s stupid.” 

“Girl problems?” 

Marcus laughs again, and Dieter startles a little, afraid he’s going to start back up sobbing at any moment. 

He doesn’t though. He’s quiet and avoiding Dieter’s gaze as he frantically gets another cigarette from his pack and lights it up. 

Dieter thinks he’s hit the nail on the head until Marcus takes a long drag of his cigarette and exhales. 

“I’m fucking gay.” 

Dieter opens his mouth in shock, or understanding, or maybe to try and say something, but Marcus continues. 

“This whole time I’ve been gay. I don’t even— I’ve had so many girlfriends. I think they’re just nice. I’ve never— I fucking hated sleeping with them. I thought it was because it was awkward, and we’re all inexperienced? It sucked, Dieter. And I thought all guys were curious about other guys, you know? They all talk about their dicks with each other, since middle school. I just thought— and then there’s this guy… in my intro to psych class. And he’s so nice and handsome and I just always want to hang out with him. And I didn’t know why. But I want to kiss him. And I never felt that way about any of my girlfriends. And now I realize I’ve just— I’ve just been gay this whole time.”

He’s out of breath when he quits talking, but he sucks down more of his cigarette anyway. Dieter isn’t quite sure what to say to him. Usually when someone comes out to him, it’s in a less… frantic manner, more proud than anything. But this poor freshman has been on a gay crisis bender all week and is more than a little traumatized by all of it, and it’s just different with Marcus. 

“That’s um… Sounds like you’ve been going through a rough time with it.” 

Marcus sniffles and nods. 

“Been through all five or whatever stages of grief already. It’s been a long week.” 

“Are you… Upset? That you’re gay?” 

Marcus’ head lolls back to thump against the porch railing. 

“No… I’m more upset that I didn't figure it out until now.” 

“You’re still plenty young, Marcus. You’re what— nineteen?”

“Eighteen. Skipped a grade.”

Jesus. Dieter feels even worse now about thinking he’s pretty when he cries. 

“See? You’re a spring chicken, dude. You figured it out plenty quick.” 

“When did you know?” 

Dieter chews on his lip, considers lying just for Marcus’ sake, but decides against it. 

“I pretty much always knew, honestly. But I mean— I was weird anyway, you know? Never really fit in or felt I had to play a certain part or be a certain way. It just made sense. Also, my dad always said I was as queer as a three dollar bill so… that helped.” 

Dieter steals the cigarette between Marcus’ fingers to take a drag himself. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Nothing to be sorry for, man,” Dieter tells him. 

Marcus stares at where Dieter’s lips wrap around his cigarette for a bit too long, and Dieter hands it back, if only to try and stop whatever it is that’s bound to happen next. 

But Marcus takes another drag himself, and his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip, and Dieter has never been called strong-willed. 

“What’s it like?” 

“What?”

“To be with a guy? What’s it like?” 

Dieter shrugs. 

“Depends on the guy.” 

Marcus sighs. 

“Are you uh— how do you like… it?” 

“Are you asking if I’m a top or a bottom?” 

Marcus’s face flushes a cute color in the yellow of the porch lights. 

“Both,” Dieter shrugs, “but I haven’t really done that with a lot of guys. Kind of a hassle, you know?” 

Marcus nods, but then his brow quirks up in question. 

“What do you mean? What do you— what do you do, then?” 

Dieter chuckles. 

“All kinds of things, babe.” 

He watches Marcus’ breath catch, the little stutter of his chest. 

“Would you show me?” 

Dieter rolls his eyes to distract them both from the fact that he really, really wants to. 

“C’mon, man. You don’t wanna fool around with me. I’m a loser. Go find a pretty finance boy to shack up with.” 

Maybe he’s less weak-willed than he thought. 

Marcus’ shoulders slump again, and christ, though, is he supposed to just let him leave like a kicked puppy? 

“There’s no intro to psych guy.”

It’s quiet, mumbled around his cigarette, and his eyes won’t leave his feet. 

“What?” 

“It’s you, okay? You’re my— gay awakening, or whatever. Why do you think I’ve been here all week?”

Dieter’s heart is hammering against his chest at that admission. This was not how he figured his Friday night would go.

“Free beer?” 

His joke doesn’t land. Marcus rolls his eyes. 

“It’s not like… I’m not like in love with you or anything. I just… always wanna see you. And you’re— well, you know. You’re hot. And you’re really nice to everyone. And I get this… I feel so weird when I’m around you, like, nauseous. Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

Marcus flicks yet another cigarette to the curb and makes to get up, but before Dieter can think better of it, he grips him on the shoulder to keep him seated. 

“That’s… actually really sweet, Marcus.” 

He scoffs, hides his face in his hands, and it’s so cute Dieter can’t help but smile. 

“Really— Usually people just want to fuck me, or use me for drugs.” 

Marcus groans a little, mortified, and his hands run back to mess up his pristinely styled hair. 

“Buddy, I’m serious. You’re a little charmer.”

Marcus looks up from his lap at that, scratching that neatly buzzed hair on the back of his neck, and his eyes are a little less embarrassed and a little more twinkly.

“You’re just saying that.”

Dieter shakes his head grinning. 

“No, it’s cute. Being genuine is never a bad thing.”

And the thing is, Dieter’s not lying. It’s possibly the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him. But he’s toeing a very very fine line here, with himself. Because Marcus is so pretty, and so smart, and he’s soft and kind and he’s real but he’s young. 

And Dieter’s just a Super Super Senior, a total burnout, on his way to holding the world record for The Longest College Career. He’s 23 and he’s still undecided and he probably won’t even get  a college degree after all is said and done. 

But Marcus is looking at him with those big brown eyes, watching, calculating. 

“I just— I feel like you wouldn’t judge me. If I did the wrong thing. You know?”

“I wouldn’t. Anyone who would isn’t worth your time.”

Marcus huffs. Maybe Dieter can still save this. 

“Would you… tell me? What you’d do? What I should do?”

And just like that, Dieter is hopping right over that line with both feet. 

“Kiss me.”

Marcus’ eyes grow even bigger.

“Like, right now? Here?” 

“If you want to. That’s what I’d want you to do, to kiss me right here, like you couldn’t help yourself.”

And Dieter will be damned if he doesn’t do just that, surging forward to grab the sides of his face and press their lips together. 

His lips are so soft, and his face is smooth, and he’s eager, a bit too much, but it only adds to that coincidental charm. Dieter’s left to catch up, as Marcus swipes his tongue along the seam of his mouth and groans. 

Dieter pulls away. Marcus’ mouth gapes open, and his shoulders heave with his fast breaths. 

“You’re so… scruffy.”

Dieter chuckles, wipes Marcus’ spit from his lips and straightens out his mustache. 

“Not good?”

“No, god no, it’s really good.”

And then Marcus smashes their lips together again as a pathetic little sound escapes his throat. Dieter opens his mouth this time, lets Marcus slide his tongue around, a little violent, and this is all a bit too much for some front porch steps, isn’t it?

“Hey,” Dieter says softly, pulling away. 

Marcus’ brows draw up in confusion. 

“Sorry. I’m not a good kisser, am I?”

Dieter sighs, grabs one of Marcus’ hands on his face to link their fingers together. 

“It’s not that,” he says. 

He turns his face to kiss the center of Marcus’ palm and smiles when his breath hitches. 

“You really wanna do this with me?” 

Marcus is nodding before Dieter even finishes speaking. 

“Only if you really want it, too.”

Dieter squeezes his hand. 

“I do, really.”

Marcus smiles the sweetest little smile, and they both stand up, and Dieter doesn’t let his hand go. 

There’s music on in the house, and it smells like weed, and a few people are playing Nintendo in the living room. They don’t pay any mind as Dieter pulls Marcus up to the second floor, down the hall, and into his dimly lit bedroom. 

At least he’s kept it semi-tidy, he thinks, as Marcus looks around while he shuts and locks the door. His bed isn’t made. He’s sure Marcus makes his bed every morning before class. He hopes he doesn’t mind. 

He seems like he’s too nervous to mind, a jittery little thing standing next to his bed. He’s fiddling with the hem of his shirt, staring holes into the stained carpet, when Dieter moves to stand in front of him. 

“Are you nervous?” 

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Dieter grabs both of his hands, and Marcus finally meets his gaze. 

“It’s okay to be nervous. As long as it’s good nervous.” 

He smiles and nods, but the worry in his brow is still there.��

“We won’t do anything you don’t wanna do, okay?”

That seems to soothe him more. 

“Can we kiss again?”

Dieter chuckles. 

“Of course we can.”

Marcus tips over into him, landing at the side of his mouth but quickly correcting course. He licks, but Dieter keeps his mouth shut, goading him to calm down. And he does, slotting his lips around Dieter's bottom one, and everything else slips into place with a soft, satisfied noise from his own chest. 

He lets go of Marcus’ sweaty hands to grab his hips instead, lithe and a little bony. He twitches at the touch, sighs, and presses his lips harder into Dieter’s. His hands search around frantically, jostling them both, until he finds the hem of Dieter’s sweatshirt and gets his hands underneath. 

“Slow,” Dieter mumbles. 

“Hm?”

“Not a race, Marcus. Take your time. Enjoy it.” 

Marcus nods, but gapes at him, like he’s not quite sure what to do next. 

“You wanna get comfy? Take your shoes off, sit down?”

Marcus nods again, but with a little direction, takes his shoes off and sits on the bed, criss-cross applesauce like the cutest fucking thing Dieter’s ever seen. 

“I want this to be— I want you to have a good time, feel good. So tell me if you don’t feel good… or if there’s anything you wanna try. Communication is like, super sexy, right?”

Dieter sheds his shoes and his hoodie as he speaks, thinks he catches Marcus’ eyes staring at the spot between his signature pajama pants and his shirt where it rides up. 

“Yeah… like, dirty talk?”

Dieter huffs out a laugh as he sits facing Marcus, crossing his legs, mirroring him to make him as comfortable as possible.

“Could be dirty talk, yeah. But just normal talk, too. It can be hot to talk about things like… how do you like to be touched? Where?” 

Marcus clears his throat and scratches the back of his head with a puzzled look on his face. 

“My— my dick?”

Dieter wants to laugh, but he can’t blame the guy. It sounds like the only experience he’s had so far is rushed fucks with high school sweethearts. 

“Okay, yeah, that’s a good start. So, for me, I like being kissed. Everywhere. I like feeling lips on my jaw and my neck and especially my nipples. You can bite, too.”

Marcus’ eyebrows raise, his plush lips forming a circular shape that Dieter tries and fails not to focus on. 

“Oh, yeah, okay. I— I like that too. I like when it’s… sloppy.”

Dieter hums, smiles, and nods.

“Anything else you like?” 

He watches Marcus bite his bottom lip and trace shapes on the bedsheets between them. 

“I don’t really know.” 

“That’s okay. Maybe we can figure it out together, yeah?”

His long eyelashes flutter as he blinks real slow, and he smiles. 

“Yeah. Thank you.” 

Dieter does chuckle then. 

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you.”

Christ, Dieter thinks, if his face gets any more red he might burst into flames. 

He kisses him, to save him from a fiery death. It’s a little awkward, with both of their legs crossed in front of them, but it’s easier to take their time like this. 

Marcus keeps it slow, so Dieter can finally lead. He licks into his mouth to feel his hard palate, and the way he whimpers and shivers in response is so delicious that Dieter can’t help but to do it again and again. 

He feels long fingers grip his thighs, soft at first, but squeezing harder when Marcus returns the favor and scrapes his tastebuds along Dieter’s sharp canines. 

There’s twin sighs when Marcus pulls away, only a little, eyes still shut. 

“You’re really fucking good at this,” he mumbles. 

Dieter hums and pecks his lips again, soft and wet. 

“Could kiss you all night.”

It’s true, even though there’s also a million other things he wants to do with Marcus. He tries to push those wants down by kissing him again, getting that plump bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it. The noise Marcus makes has his cock filling steadily with blood, and he knows it’s very obvious in his pajama pants, and he hopes Marcus doesn’t freak out.

Like he’s reading Dieter’s mind, Marcus’ hands slide so fucking slowly up his thighs. The movements are jerky, and he hesitates when just the tip of his finger brushes his cock. His inhale is audible, but his curious touch proceeds, just the lightest ghosting across his shaft. 

But then he’s pulling away, and Dieter feels on edge, bracing himself for the worst. 

“Can I touch it?”

Dieter exhales his relief.

“You can… Are you open to suggestions, though?”

Marcus nods, his slick mouth hanging open. 

“You could get on top of me, let me feel how much you like this, too. Drag it out, make me really want it.” 

He smirks as Marcus curses, closing his eyes and pressing his palm to the front of his jeans. But he nods, and uncrosses his legs, so Dieter does the same. 

And then, he’s got a lapful of Marcus, and he’s staring up into his glassy, beautiful eyes. 

“Like this?”

His hips shift, and his pert little ass grinds against Dieter’s cock while his own presses against his belly. 

“Just like that. Is this still okay?” 

Marcus doesn’t answer him, just devours his lips again as he rocks his hips and supplies them both with heady friction. His little whimpers are muffled, and his teeth are sinking into Dieter’s lip a little too hard, but in a way that makes his cock throb and pulse against the tight ass against it. 

Dieter’s hands find those lithe hips again, this time under his shirt. His skin is scalding to the touch and so fucking smooth. He digs his thumbs into his hip bones, drags little circles into them that make his hips jolt and stutter. 

Fuck. He likes this a lot. Maybe too much. He pulls himself away to reel it in a bit, maybe to check and make sure this is still alright—

“I’m so fucking hard,” Marcus breathes, “I’ve never felt like this.” 

And as he speaks, he’s ripping his t-shirt over his head and flinging it elsewhere. 

He’s gorgeous. A little scrawny but smooth, everywhere, just miles of tan skin that’s paler here where it gets no sun. Dieter wants to bite, and kiss, and suckle on every fucking inch of it. 

For now, Dieter uses all of his brain power to mumble a distracted ‘me too,’ as his hands moved upward to splay across all that hairless skin. 

Marcus’ stomach tenses and relaxes under his hands, and his chest heaves as Dieter cradles his ribs and brushes his thumbs over his nipples. 

“Does this feel good?” 

He circles them, flicks them a little bit, and wants to curl up and live in that little gasp Marcus makes. 

“Yes.” 

His head is leaning back between his shoulders, all raised and on-edge. That’s not what Dieter wants. He wants him relaxed, wants him all gooey and loose. 

Slowly, gently, Dieter tips him over, a hand on the back of his head until it lands on the pillows. The look in his eyes gets a little squirrely, and his breath picks up, and his nails scrabble at Dieter’s bicep. 

“Is this still okay?” 

Marcus nods quickly, but he’s slower with the verbal response. 

“I think so… just nervous.” 

“Still good nervous?” 

As if to prove it, he cants his hips up into Dieter and he’s rock hard against his thigh. 

“Still good nervous.”

Dieter’s own prick throbs and twitches as he hums. He lowers himself even more over Marcus, finds his racing pulse point and plants a hot, wet kiss there. 

“Can I kiss you here?” he whispers. 

His chin brushes Dieter’s cheek when he nods, and Marcus relocates his hands to reach up the back of his shirt. His palms are sweaty and hot as Dieter trails a wet line of kisses down to his prominent collar bone. 

His skin is so salty, and the heat from his body is making his cheap cologne smell even stronger, and Dieter feels high even though he hasn’t smoked in hours. 

“How about here, Marcus?”

He looks up at the younger man as he hovers his mouth above one tiny, pebbled nipple. He watches as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and smiles and impish grin when Marcus nods again. 

The groan he receives when he closes his mouth around it has him pressing his hips to the mattress for relief. One of Marcus’ hands finds Dieter’s hair and grips.

“Ah fuck.”

Just like that, the fingers loosen and leave his head and Dieter actually whines at the loss. 

“Sorry!”

“No, no, that was a good fuck. Love getting my hair pulled.”

Dieter glances back up at Marcus and watches as his wheels turn. 

“Oh… really?”

He chuckles as he places a sloppy kiss on his sternum, delighted at the way the muscles twitch under his lips. 

“Mmmhmm.”

Marcus sighs as Dieter finds his other nipple.  

“My ex-girlfriend hated it.” 

Dieter nips at the hard bud in his mouth and smirks when Marcus’ hips jolt up. 

“I like a little pain with my pleasure,” he explains. 

“I— can you bite me again?”

Dieter curses and obliges immediately, sinking his teeth into the meat of his pec this time. 

“God, I like that.”

He even earns another tug at his hair, and Dieter knows there’s gotta be a damp spot on the front of his pajamas. 

“That’s so good, Marcus. Keep telling me what you like.” 

Marcus squirms under him as he alternates a string of kisses and licks and bites down his torso. His nails scratch Dieter’s scalp in between tugging on his hair, and this is the most fun Dieter’s had in the bedroom in a long while. 

Marcus has a tiny bit of hair below his belly button, and it’s so fucking cute and whispy when Dieter runs his tongue along the path. But before Dieter can get the fly of his jeans unfastened, Marcus holds a hand over his. 

“Can I try on you now?” 

Dieter’s gaze flickers up to his face, and he looks so sweet, pleading with his big puppy eyes. 

“Yeah, yes, of course you can.”

Marcus smiles, and it’s sure, like he’s finally settled into this, and it makes Dieter’s apprehension fall away. 

It also makes him that much more horny, hard as ever when he lies down with his head on the pillows. He reaches down to readjust and watches Marcus clock the movement with a heady look.

“This is good for you, too?” 

His voice is breathy when he asks, when his hand slips under Dieter’s t-shirt. 

“Marcus, I’m loving this. I feel like a sexy experiment. Poke and prod me, babe.” 

And through all of this newness and anxiety and apprehension, Marcus laughs. It’s music to Dieter’s ears, watching his eyes light up as he chuckles. 

“Take this off then,” he instructs through his laughter. 

“Yes sir,” Dieter purrs, “bossing me around also does it for me. You’re a natural already.” 

“Y-yeah? I don’t— I’ve never been like that.”

Dieter fumbles to back track at the way Marcus’ confidence falls away. 

“It’s okay, that’s an advanced lesson. My bad. Just— Just do what you want with me. Explore. I’m all yours.” 

He talks as he sheds his shirt, and when the damned thing finally pulls free, he feels a little scrutinized under Marcus’s wide eyes. And he kinda really likes it. 

He settles back against the mattress, one arm above his head while the other reaches out to encourage Marcus to come closer. He does, only a little timid as his gaze rakes over every inch of his body. 

He settles between Dieter’s spread legs, one hand dipping the mattress next to him while the other lands hesitantly on his flank. His warm, sweaty palm feels the skin there, draws upward toward his chest, but takes a completely unconventional detour to his armpit. 

Dieter’s cock throbs. This is so fucking weird and so fucking hot. 

Marcus’ jaw drops slack as his fingers card through all of his armpit hair, and it tickles a little bit, but mostly it just makes Dieter’s arousal grow heavy in his groin, burning. 

Before Dieter can really assess what’s going on, or encourage him, or tell him how fucking hard he’s making him, Marcus leans down to capture his lips in his own. 

Dieter groans and scrabbles to grip his waist, arching his hips for any relief and finding it against the front of Marcus’ jeans, a hard line wrapped in denim that twitches against his own. He moans, low and long, as he twirls the thick hair between his finger and thumb. 

And then his hand is gone, and Dieter’s quite disappointed, but he can’t just say that, can he? He weighs the pros and cons of telling Marcus not to stop as the other man trails his lips down the patchy stubble on his jaw, and bites the sensitive skin on his neck. 

Maybe he should tell him. That’s a good lesson, right? How to take feedback, good or bad. But ‘hey keep stroking my armpit hair’ is a bit startling, isn’t it? 

He’s so distracted by the inner turmoil that he doesn’t realize the path Marcus’ has taken until hot breath ghosts that bit of fat between his tit and armpit and then he sniffs, and groans, and licks up all the hair while he presses his cock down into Dieter’s own and Jesus Fuck—

He quickly finds purchase in Marcus’ hair and curses, grinds his hips back up into him with what he hopes is encouraging words. But forgive him if his brain is a little bit completely scrambled. 

Marcus bites just under his patch of armpit hair, burying his nose in it once more, and these primal sounds he makes are vibrating through Dieter’s chest. All he can do at this point is lie back and take it and succumb to the fact that this is definitely altering his brain chemistry for the rest of his life. 

It all stops rather abruptly, though, and two hot hands grab Dieter’s hips hard, pushes them down into the mattress as Marcus arches away from him. 

“I might— I might come.”

Dieter blinks his bleary eyes open to look at the panicked man, who’s squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip. 

“It’s okay if you do. You can have me all night.” 

“Fuck— Shut up, Jesus Christ.”

Dieter huffs, scratches at his wet armpit, and patiently waits for Marcus to settle down. He could probably come that way too, to be honest, with that pretty boy’s tongue lapping at his underarm and their cocks grinding together. 

Marcus’ eyelashes flutter open, and Dieter smiles at him softly, careful not to move or touch. He looks like a hair trigger, sweaty and panting already, with a really fucking hot damp patch soaking through the crotch of his jeans. 

“Sorry. I think I’m good— wait, sorry, was that weird?”

Dieter allows himself to place one of his hands on Marcus’ own, where it’s still gripping tight to his hip bone. 

“It was weird in the hottest way possible.” 

Marcus shakes his head at himself and closes his eyes again. 

“I’m dead serious. I didn’t know how sensitive I was there. You’re teaching me things. That’s super hot.”

Marcus sighs. 

“It’s just… I like the hair. And your deodorant smells nice.”

He pries his eyes open, like he expects Dieter to be disgusted, but his confession only makes his cock jump very prominently in his pajamas. 

“Doesn’t taste very good, though.” 

And now Dieter is laughing, and tugging Marcus back down, mumbling ‘prove it’ and shoving his tongue into his offensively chemical-flavored mouth. 

It’s okay though, he just licks and licks until the taste has dissipated and Marcus is letting go of the death grip on his sides. His mouth follows a much more predictable route, this time, and Dieter watches his every move as those pretty lips wrap around his nipples, one and then the other, until he’s biting and Dieter is whimpering and asking for more. 

“You can leave marks. I like ‘em.” 

Marcus curses against his sternum and obeys, so fucking obedient, suckling Dieter’s skin and rolling it between his teeth. Looking up at him, his eyes look so determined, all dark and heavy, especially when he pulls away to admire the bruise he’s left. 

“More. Want to see you all over me in the morning.” 

“Fuck, Dieter. How’d you get so good at— at talking like that?” 

Dieter chuckles, then hisses when Marcus sucks the skin on his belly into the sharp edges of his teeth. He’s looking up with an expectant quirk of his brow.

“I just say what’s on my mind,” he answers.

Marcus hums, and Dieter places his hand on his jaw to feel it working, a third mark blooming bright red on his hip. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks. 

A fourth mark, this one deeper than the rest, right above the waistband of his pants, as Marcus thinks. 

“I want your cock in my mouth.”

Said cock jerks wildly, disrupting the tent in his pajamas, and Marcus has the audacity to smirk. Dieter lets his thumb trace that wet, swollen bottom lip and doesn’t miss the little whine that Marcus tries to hide. 

“Will you teach me?” 

It’s now that Dieter realizes he’s created an absolute monster, with Marcus looking up at him all wide-eyed, batting those long eyelashes. He knows what he’s doing, and it just makes it all so much worse. Or better. Both, really. 

He clears his throat to try to gather his bearings before he speaks. 

“Yeah, I’ll teach you. Pull it out for me.” 

Dieter watches as his breath hitches, and he eyes the tent in Dieter’s pants with an array of emotions washing over his features. There’s hesitation for sure, as he toys with his waistband. But he’s licking his lips, and taking a big deep breath as he tugs them down Dieter’s thighs. 

And then he’s staring at his cock, swaying in the breeze, and Dieter thinks this would be much less intense if penises weren’t so offensive and in your face. 

“Pretty,” Marcus mumbles, and it makes him giggle. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, it’s— I like it.” 

“Thank you. That’s very sweet.” 

Marcus rolls his eyes but smiles. 

“I can touch it?”

“Yeah, of course. Anything you want. Go at your own pace.”

Maybe it’s cliche, but as soon as Marcus’ hand wraps around his cock, Dieter is done for. Fuck, it feels so good, the way his movements are gentle and calculated, the way he’s being so attentive for his first time, exploratory. His free hand cradles Dieter’s sac, his thumb tracing the seam, and it’s alarming how close this is getting him. It’s so intimate, and genuine, and it’s so hot that he gets to be here for Marcus’ first time. 

Marcus squeezes him tight and strokes, once, from base to tip. He thumbs at his frenulum, slippery with pre come, then lifts that to his lips. It’s like slow motion when he watches him poke his tongue out to taste, and he closes his eyes and hums. 

“Better than the deodorant, for sure.” 

And Dieter’s cock bobs as he laughs. 

“That’s a relief.” 

“I’ve never tasted my own before,” Marcus says. 

“No?” 

“Mm-mm. Seemed… gay.” 

And he laughs at himself, but his face inches closer, and in an instant his tongue is flicking out to lap up more of it, straight from the source. 

Dieter gasps at the contact, so sudden. His taste buds are rough against his slit, in a good way, and he has to cradle Marcus’ neck to reel himself in. 

“That’s so good,” he whispers, “keep doing that.” 

And he does, little kitten licks to the sensitive head of his cock, looking up at him from under those long eyelashes. Dieter groans and closes his eyes because if Marcus keeps looking at him like that, he will come before he can have any fun with him. 

Then, in an instant, he’s completely enveloped by warmth and wetness, too fast, and he opens his eyes at the same time Marcus gags and coughs and pulls off of him. 

“Jesus, Marcus, take it slow.” 

He coughs more, with brow all furrowed and frustrated, and Dieter smooths his hair off of his forehead. 

“Are you alright?” 

Marcus clears his throat as he nods. 

“Yeah, sorry, I can’t— I thought that would be easier.”

Dieter huffs, sits up a bit and leans on his elbow so he can see him better. His eyes are watery and not in a sexy way this time. He pets Marcus’ hair a bit, hoping to soothe him, but the redness doesn’t fade from his cheeks. 

“You don’t have to take it all, that’s no fun, choking like that,” he says, “are you sure you’re okay? We can stop.” 

“No! No— I don’t wanna stop. I’m just embarrassed.”

God, he’s so fucking sweet. 

“Don’t be embarrassed. We’ve all been there. I threw up on the first dick I sucked.” 

“Gross, dude.”

“I’m just saying, it could be way worse. Nothing to even be embarrassed about.” 

Marcus sighs and hides his face in the crease of Dieter’s hip. 

“Seriously, I’m still so hard I could shatter diamonds. You’re so fucking hot, it doesn’t matter if you choke a little.” 

He feels Marcus’ teeth on the skin of his hip before he sees his jaw moving. He bites and sucks and it’s another beautiful piece of him he’ll get to take from this experience. 

“That’s it. It’s all about the recovery. Fuck, Marcus, your mouth feels so good on me. Everywhere.” 

Dieter lifts his hips up to encourage him to bite more, mark him up all over. He follows eagerly, until there’s little love bites scattered across the thin skin over his hip bone and his cock is weeping for attention. 

Marcus looks up at him, finally, as he hovers just above his prick.

“Can I try again?”

Dieter hums and cards his fingers through his thick brown hair. 

“Play until you win, babe.” 

He’s much more careful, this time. He takes the head into his mouth and sucks, lets his tongue lather and swirl around it as his hand keeps his dick in place. He’s gorgeous, with his cheeks hollowed out and his eyes shut in concentration. 

“Yeah, just like that, fucking perfect.”

Marcus whimpers around his cock, and drool is starting to leak from the corners of his mouth and drip down Dieter’s shaft. 

“Move your hand a bit, jerk me off while you suck on it.”

He follows the direction so well, letting his hand draw up to meet his lips, then back down, over and over, and Dieter can feel his gut growing hot and tight. His tongue is working him relentlessly, and he’s never really had a partner use theirs so much, but the frantic swirling and flicking has his head spinning. 

“You’re amazing,” Dieter breathes, “making me feel so good.”

At the encouragement, Marcus braves another inch of his cock. He starts to bob his head up and down, following his lips with his fist, and the breaths through his nose get heavier. Dieter babbles a bit, just encouraging words as Marcus works him dutifully, trying with all his might not to thrust up into his hot, sloppy mouth. 

But then Marcus looks up at him with his pretty brown eyes and groans around the cock in his mouth and it’s too much. 

“Fuck— fuck, Marcus, let me go.” 

Marcus does, as quickly as he can, panting when his mouth is finally free. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Dieter huffs. 

“Nothing, you’re perfect, gorgeous, beautiful. I just don’t wanna come yet.” 

“Oh.”

The little cock drunk smile he gets is too cute, and Dieter tugs lightly on his hair to get him to crawl back up for a kiss. He tastes like pre-cum, and his nails bite into the heated skin of Marcus’ back for purchase. 

“How are you feeling? Still gay?” 

Marcus laughs against his lips. 

“The gayest I’ve ever been.” 

Dieter collapses back on the pillows to look up at him. 

“Really though, are you still into this?” 

Marcus nods, presses his hips into Dieter’s thigh to swipe away any last remaining doubt. 

“Alright, next and final lesson. Get those tight little jeans off.”

He’s so quick to obey, and Dieter tries not to gawk at how much bigger that wet spot has grown just below his fly. He shakes himself out of it and gets his pajama pants completely off his legs. 

Marcus is so fucking hot, jesus, Dieter feels like he’s pushing his luck having him here in his bed. So lean and long, and his cock is uncut and curves a bit to the left, and he’s still so hard. 

“Get beside me, face me.”

And Marcus looks right at home like this, laid out in his bed, with his bicep bulging from propping his head up on his hand. 

“What’s the lesson?” 

Dieter smirks at the eagerness. 

“I’m gonna jerk us off together.”

Marcus raises his brow. 

“Like, at the same time?”

Dieter hums his affirmative, reaches a tentative hand out to cup Marcus’ pert little asscheek, and chuckles when he twitches. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll save that for another time. If you want.” 

“Shit, yeah, okay.”

And isn’t that gonna be fun? The thought makes Dieter’s cock throb and jerk and he shuffles to close the distance so their pricks line up together. 

“Is this okay? Like this?” 

He looks up from their cocks to watch Marcus’ jaw go slack. 

“Oh god, ‘m not gonna last at all.”

Even as he says it, he’s wrapping his own hand around both of them and squeezing, groaning at the feeling and bucking his hips so they slide together. 

“I don’t want you to last, I want you to feel good.” 

Dieter lets his hand join the fun, covering what Marcus can’t, and his cock jumps in their combined hold when Marcus whines.

“I do, I— fuck, I really do.” 

“Kiss me?”

He’s cut off by Marcus’ lips, all swollen and hot against his own. Marcus moans as soon as their tongues meet, and he starts shaking like a leaf. His hand squeezes harder around their pricks, works them faster, and Dieter can feel each and every twitch of his dripping cock. 

He’s so frantic with it. His breathing whistles fast through his nose, panting into his mouth, and every other exhale is a desperate little noise. It only takes a few dozen strokes for Marcus to fall apart.

“Gonna come— I’m coming, Dieter—”

He gasps as it washes over him. Dieter feels his hot, sticky cum splash over his own hand and his cock and his stomach. Marcus hides his face in the crook of Dieter’s neck and bites as it courses through him. It sends a hot white spark down his spine, and what little filter he’d maintained throughout the night completely short-circuits.

“Shit, that’s it. So fucking good, coming all over me— Fuck, Marcus, you’re hot when you come. You feel so fucking good.”

Marcus whimpers through his aftershocks as Dieter fills his ears with whatever filth he can muster. When it’s too much, and Marcus has to slide his spent cock from their joined hands, he doesn’t let go of Dieter. He helps, with the slick aid of his cum, and Dieter topples over the edge with a growl and Marcus sucks another mark into his overheated skin. 

It’s blinding, it’s his favorite orgasm he’s ever had for sure. Marcus gasps when the first streak of his spend shoots all over his smooth stomach. 

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, exerted but intrigued as Dieter fucks their fists. 

His cum mixes with the stains Marcus already left on his blanket, slowing to a trickle just as Marcus’ grasp loosens. Even when he’s empty, Dieter can still feel the orgasm buzzing through his body as he tries to regain his breath. 

Marcus finally looks up from the scene of the crime and Dieter wants to take a picture of the fucked-out look on his face, his messy hair, his spit-slick lips and flushed face. But he can’t, so he kisses him instead, closing his eyes so maybe he can burn that image into his memory for eternity. 

It’s lazy, so much slower and softer than the way Marcus kissed when he was all keyed up. 

Shit.

Dieter’s in for it. He’s always had an addictive personality, and having Marcus in his bed has been stronger than any fucking drug he’s tried before. 

He whimpers when Marcus pulls away, chasing his lips just for a moment before he reels himself back in. 

He looks down at the mess he’s going to promptly ignore, thinks about how far away the bathroom closet is with all the towels. But then one slender finger is swiping through the cum puddle between them, and lifting to his face, and Dieter devours. 

Marcus chuckles at the desperate noise Dieter makes as he swirls his tongue around to lick up every last drop. 

“How do we taste together?” 

Goddamn, Marcus is much more suave after an orgasm. 

“Like we were made for each other.” 

Christ, he needs to get himself together. His brain is just so fucking fuzzy and light.

Marcus doesn’t run for the hills, though. He giggles, and dips that same finger into their mess again. He brings it up to his own lips this time, sucking it inside his mouth and pulling it out clean. 

There’s a slight grimace as he rolls it around in his mouth. 

“Not as sweet as you were earlier.” 

And Dieter laughs, brushes his two cleanest knuckles against the skin of Marcus’ hip. 

“It’s an acquired taste.” 

Marcus nods, and looks down between them, and some of that lightness in his features fizzles out. 

“Hang on— here, use these.”

Dieter hands him his discarded pajama pants, and they use one leg each to tidy up their hands and stomachs and cocks. Then Dieter balls them up to swipe at his sticky blanket as best as he can. And it’s all so quiet, as their breathing has evened out, and fuck, what if Marcus has some crazy post-nut clarity after this… heavy situation? 

He’s staring at the bedroom door when Dieter looks up to face him. 

“Should I uh… go… now?” 

Dieter sighs and finally gets his freshly wiped hand on Marcus’ skin, colder now where all the sweat has cooled. 

“Personally, I would like it if you stayed. Cuddling after sex is… well, I like it a lot. Some people don’t… it’s okay if you don’t. Whatever you’re comfortable with. This was probably a lot for y—”

Marcus cuts off his rambling— thank god— by burrowing his face in Dieter’s chest and tangling their naked legs together. They both release two huge twin sighs, and Dieter’s instantly soothed by the weight against him, and the lithe fingers stroking his back. 

Dieter can’t help it, he tucks his chin and plants a kiss to the crown of Marcus’ head. He drowns in the scent of sweat and cheap shampoo and feels so grounded for the first time in a very long time. 

Marcus hums, and Dieter pulls him in tighter, swipes his palm over the curve of his tiny asscheek. 

He clears his throat. 

“I don’t have any plans tomorrow…” 

Marcus lifts his head, and he looks so sleepy but so satisfied. 

“So we can stay up all night? You can— could you show me more things?” 

Dieter chuckles and kisses his lips to hide how relieved he feels. 

“Was gonna see if you wanted to catch a movie or something. But I think I like your idea better.” 

“Oh— a movie sounds good! I mean, it would be chill.” 

Dieter huffs. 

“Split the difference, we’ll watch a movie here while I eat your cute little ass?” 

Dieter actually feels his limp cock twitch against his thigh, and tries to hold back a self-satisfied smirk. 

“Yep. Yeah, let’s do that instead.” 

Dieter kisses him, this time just because he can. 

“Get some sleep first, okay? I’ll be right here.” 

The look of comfort on Marcus’ face makes his chest burn and ache. His droopy eyelids close as he smiles, and his head drops to Dieter’s splayed out arm. 

He just watches, for a little while. Lets himself count the deep, even breaths Marcus takes and feels them on the skin of his bicep. 

His arm is gonna go numb in about two minutes tops, and he’ll cherish every pinprick until he drifts off.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Secrets ♡

♡ Pairing: sugar daddy!yeosang x chubby!fem!sugar baby!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Summary: It's your anniversary and everything's going wonderfully with the man of your dreams until you're forced to spill a secret you've been hiding for a long time. You've always wanted a family with him but never pushed the issue, knowing it's something he wouldn't be interested. But you might just be surprised what he's willing to do and how eager he is to do it.

♡ Word Count: 3.4k-ish

♡ Warning: discussions of pregnancy/motherhood, breeding kink, nipple play, unprotected sex, fingering, rough sex, yeosang has some dom vibes at time, spanking, pet names (mommy/daddy/baby), hair pulling, creampie, and that's about all.

♡ A/N: I wrote this as a request for @rems-writing who I adore to pieces. I really hope that I did justice to your request, my love. It was really fun to write and is only worsening the fact that Yeosang is wrecking me these days so thank you for that.

In the beginning things were different. Yeosang was your sugar daddy. He was there to spoil you beyond your wildest dreams, giving you everything your heart desired. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. In return he got you, however and whenever he wished to have you. But overtime, as all things do, the situation grew more complicated than either of you planned.

One day you woke up to find that you weren’t reaching for your phone to call him about the newest pair of shoes you had your eye on, you just needed to hear the sound of his voice. And Yeosang found himself caring less and less if seeing you led to anything sexual. He was more than happy to simply have you in his arms.

You both had, against all of your better judgment, fallen completely in love with each other. It’s been 3 years since you both broke down and admitted this was far deeper than something transactional. 3 years down to the day that you decided to truly be together and neither of you have regretted it for a moment. 

Staring lovingly at your gorgeous side profile as the two of you navigate your way through the crowded lantern festival, Yeosang can’t imagine ever regretting being with a girl like you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted and more. With your hand securely held in his, he feels like he’s got the very center of his universe in the palm of his hands. That’s why he did everything in his power to make this anniversary special for you.

There was the breakfast in bed that he spent all morning whipping up himself. The shopping spree that almost cleaned out your favorite store. A four course meal at a lavish restaurant overlooking the water. And now a starlit walk through a breathtaking lantern festival where gorgeous neon sculptures illuminate the night. You stare at them in awe the same way you have every single thing he’s placed in front of you today. You’re sincerely happy and that’s the only thing he wants in this world. 

“Yeo, look at that! Isn’t it beautiful?” you beam, dragging him over to a tree sprinkled with dozens of fluorescent cherry blossoms. They twinkle overhead, bathing you in a soft pink light that makes you glow. You’re so ethereal in his eyes that he doesn’t even care that you nearly yanked his arm off to get him over here. 

“Yes, it’s beautiful, baby,” he laughs, his voice soft and deep. You’re the cutest when you get like this over things and he can’t help but be tickled when that childlike excitement comes out. 

“And what’s so funny?” you frown, your nose wrinkling adorably. 

Despite a half hearted attempt at holding it in, your bratty nature only makes him laugh harder. “You’re just so cute. I can’t help it” he says, pulling you into his arms and attacking your cheek with the sweetest of kisses. 

“Kang Yeosang, you’re being a very bad boy right now” you giggle, spinning around and straight into a kiss on the lips that has you blushing so hard your cheeks are heating up. 

He leans into your neck, lips tickling their way up to your ear. “I can be much worse,” he whispers, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Feeling your mind stray to places a little too obscene for public, you pull away from Yeosang and find a tiny human staring up at you with tears in her eyes. 

“Mommy!” a girl no older than 4 or 5 cries, tugging on your dress. She’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen with her teddy bear and her pigtails. It breaks your heart to see her crying. 

“Hey, honey. Did you lose your mommy?” you ask, kneeling down to comfort her. Now face to face with you, she realizes that you aren’t her mommy and throws an even bigger fit. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, sweetie” you coo, patting her on the shoulders. She throws herself into your arms and you automatically wrap your arms around her, letting her know that she’s safe with you. Your gaze darts to a panicked Yeosang for help. You know kids aren’t really his thing but you could use the assist right now. 

Yeosang peeks at her over your shoulder and smiles in a goofy way that gets a giggle out of her. “Everything will be okay, sweetie” he reassures her, “We’ll find your, mommy.” Patting her on the head, he takes off into the crowd in search of her mom or a worker who can help. 

“That’s Yeosang, he’s a great finder” you say, balancing her on your hip like a pro. “I like your dress by the way” you throw in, noticing that you’re both wearing the same light green sundress only her version is much tinier and much more adorable. You figure this must be how she got you confused with her mom. You had no idea this dress was so popular when you brought it. 

Fascinated by the discovery, she begins to play with the fabric of your dress, her curiosity shifting to the shiny silver earrings dangling from your ears. They’re one of the many gifts that Yeosang surprised you with for your anniversary. As she marvels at the way they sparkle, the giggles overflow from her and your heart flutters. 

It’s nothing you’ve ever admitted to Yeosang but you’ve often wondered what it might be like to walk around a park like this. Yeosang by your side and a little one bouncing on your hip, giggling her life away. You’d love this more than anything that comes with a price tag but it’s a dream that you gave up long ago.

Yeosang made it clear from various throwaway comments he’s made over the past 3 years that kids aren’t in the cards for him. And, no matter how much it pains you, you have to accept it. Instead, you keep your dreams to yourself and cherish precious moments like this where you get a taste of motherhood, however faint. It’s bittersweet but sweet nonetheless. 

“Pretty” the little girl says, fidgeting with one of your earrings. 

“You like them?” you ask, smiling gently, “They were a gift from—”

“Sophia!” a woman yells, racing over to you with Yeosang not too far behind. Your suspicions were correct. She’s wearing the exact same dress as you with the added accessory of a few tears. 

“See. I told you he was a good finder” you whisper, handing her over to her relieved mother. 

“Honey, I was so worried,” the mother pants, struggling to catch her breath as she squeezes her daughter tightly. 

Yeosang returns to your side, placing a hand on your waist and giving you a look of admiration you’re too distracted to notice but it’s there. 

“Thank you so much for looking out for her” the mother says, laughing when she notices her daughter still holding onto your dress, “I think she likes you.”

Your face lights up at the adorable gesture and you pinch Sophia’s cheek playfully. “I like her too. You be good now, Sophia.”

“Bye!” Sophia waves, finally letting go of your dress. Her eyes are still glued to you as her mom mouths another silent “Thank you” and the two head off back to where they came from. 

You linger there for a moment, swirling in thoughts of what motherhood might be like. You’ve pushed it to the back of your mind for so long that you’d forgotten how deeply you yearned for it. It’s enough to keep you lost in thought until Yeosang takes your hand, snapping you out of it. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks, knowing perfectly well that it isn't. You can’t hide your feelings from him, even if you think you can. When something’s upsetting you he can feel it. He knows your heart’s breaking. 

“It’s…it’s nothing” you say, setting your sights on another sculpture a good distance away. “Why don’t we go check that out?” You tug at his arm but this time he doesn’t let you drag him an inch. 

“Something’s wrong. Talk to me” he pleads, his face as serious as you’ve ever seen it. Yeosang’s typically playful and gentle with you, seldom showing his stubborn side but it’s out tonight and you know that arguing with him is a lost cause. 

You sigh, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact, “I can’t really talk about it here.”

“Then let’s go back to the car. We can talk there, okay?” He isn’t asking as much as he is telling you what’s about to happen.

It’s his turn to drag you along as he maneuvers you through crowds of families and lovey dovey couples to get to the car. All the while your stomach’s doing backflips at the thought of telling Yeosang the truth. You promised long ago that you’d always tell each other the truth, no matter how afraid you were, and you’d deal with the rest together. It’s a promise that you’ve never broken, not even for the smallest thing, but tonight lying seems more appealing than ever.

By the time you make it into the car your mind’s already been made up that he’ll leave you for this. Your 3rd anniversary will be your last one all because you couldn’t get over one silly thing. 

“So,” Yeosang says, the silence dancing between you becoming almost unbearable, “Are you gonna tell me what happened back there?”

He watches you with the kindest eyes and your heart breaks even more. This may be the last time he looks at you like that. You take a deep breath, soaking it in, your heart still toying with the idea of lying. 

“I want to be a mother” you blurt out, unable to keep it bottled up any longer.

It’s simultaneously terrifying and relieving to have that off of your chest after holding it in like a sneeze for the past 3 years. “I know you don’t want kids and I’m okay with that, I really am. It’s just that when I’m around kids like that, sometimes I…I don’t know.” You begin to tear up and Yeosang places a comforting hand on your leg. 

“Who said I didn’t want kids?” he asks so softly you almost think that you imagined it. 

“Uhm, you?” you sniffle, your bottom lip quivering. “You said that all kids do is poop and cry and make a mess of everything.”

Yeosang pulls his sleeve down, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Baby, I didn’t mean it that way. Well, I did mean that but not in that way. Yeah, all kids do is poop and cry and make a mess but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want a family with you.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. If it’s not what you want it’s not what you want.”

“Look at me” he demands, forcing you to meet his gaze, “I would love a family with you. Not because you cried but because that’s what I want. I just downplayed it because I thought you didn’t want it.”

“Oh my gosh, do I want it?” you say, perking up at the mere thought of it. “Tiny versions of us running around the house would be the best thing ever. Imagine going shopping for their little clothes and the family vacations. It’d be so cute. You’d make such a good dad, Yeo.”

There it is again. That childlike wonder that always brings a smile to his face. “And you’d make a wonderful mom. I only wish you would’ve told me sooner. I want a life with you and everything that comes along with it. Promise me you’ll never doubt that again.”

Yeosang extends his pinky to trap you into the legally binding pinky swear. You hook your pinky into his, rolling your eyes at how silly he can be. “I promise.”

“Good. Now here,” he says, handing you the aux cord, “Talk about it more when we get home?” 

You nod, skeptically taking the cord. It’s not his willingness to hand over control of the music to you that has you skeptical. Let’s be real, you always control the music anyway. What throws you off is how laid back he’s acting when he knows that you can read him as well as he reads you.

The entire ride home there’s the ghost of a smile on his face, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh, as he nods along to your music like the conversation never happened. But the wheels are turning in his head, he’s thinking about something and not knowing exactly what is eating you up inside. 

Did he really mean what he said? Is a family really what he wants or was he just trying to please you? You once again recall your pact not to lie. It goes both ways and you have to trust him to stick to it. Still, as you pull into the driveway and he leads you up the stairs of your shared home, you feel in your gut that there’s more to it than he’s leading on. 

“Is now a good time?” he asks once you’ve made it safely into the dimly lit living room. 

You turn around, eyeing him curiously, “Is now a good time for what?” 

Yeosang steps towards you, tossing his keys onto the coffee table. “You said you wanted to start a family” he says, his eyes scanning over how well that dress fits your curves, “So tell me, is now a good time to start?”

“Yeosa—” you’re saying but your words are cut off by his lips crashing into yours. He kisses you passionately, his hands hungrily massaging your figure through your dress. Your head spinning from the kiss, you stumble backwards, finding yourself pinned between your boyfriend and the wall. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this” he confesses, hands slipping under your dress to massage your plush ass. “To just fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.”

His words set your body on fire, every fantasy you’ve had about this very moment flooding your brain. “Please, I want you to fill me up so badly. I need it” you beg, palming a bugle that only tightens with your desperate pleas.

“Fuck, baby” he groans, drowning you in another kiss. Locking his arms around your waist, he sweeps you up and takes you to the couch where you take control, straddling him as you grind down against his clothed cock. 

The heat between your bodies is as intense as the heat between your thighs, your pussy growing wetter by the second. Yeosang trails kisses down your neck, gripping your thighs to spread your legs wider. Your stiff clit bumps the strained zipper of his pants and you let out a moan pretty enough to taste.

“Fuck me” you whine, hips rocking, desperate for more friction. 

“Already?” he teases, dipping two fingers between your legs to stroke your leaking slit. Your panties are so drenched the cotton feels like velvet. So smooth and so saturated with your juices that his fingers just slide across them. 

“I want to know how wet you are first” he says, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Show me.” 

It takes every ounce of willpower to pull yourself off of him but you manage, standing up and turning around so that your ass is poking right in his face. Yeosang tears your dress up, kissing one of your ass cheeks while his free hand slaps the other. The sting makes you jump but the kisses are heavenly. A delicious mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Bend over” he whispers, tugging your panties down as you bend over in front of him and spread your legs apart for him.

A sudden shyness overcomes you when you realize how exposed you are. At the same time your nipples stiffen against your bra knowing how hard he must be getting watching your cunt drip for him the way it does. 

His fingers meet your slit again and he hums in satisfaction, collecting your arousal on his fingertips. He pops them inside of you and you cry out, pressing your thighs together to feel them even better. 

“You’re clenching so tightly around my fingers, baby. You need to be bred that badly?” 

“Mmhmm” you gasp, fighting to stay upright as he spreads his fingers, scissoring in and out of your core. Your thighs are getting wetter and wetter,  your juices leaking between them the faster his fingers fuck into you.

Yeosang runs his tongue along your thighs, licking up the arousal that leaks out from around his fingers. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do. Use your words.”

“I want to have your babies. I want you to breed me” you moan like a melody and you’re snatched right back down into his lap, his cock buried deep inside of you before your brain has time to register it. 

Bringing your back flush against his defined chest, he thrusts into you with enough force for you to see stars. He’s feral, determined to ravage you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve had sex with him hundreds, if not thousands of times, up to this point but this time is so different. It’s the first time you’ve felt him raw inside of you and it’s pleasure beyond anything you could’ve ever dreamed of.

You feel everything. The head pulsing and leaking each time he bottoms out. The blood rushing through the veins that travel along his length, twitching when  you clench, swallowing him deeper. Behind you Yeosang’s losing his mind at how perfect your bare pussy feels wrapped around him. He can feel all of the ridges, feel how slippery wet your walls are while he fucks you. It’s almost too much to handle. 

Smoothing his hands up your sides, a hand finds its way to one of your breasts, pinching the bud through your dress. He rolls it between his fingers, the pressure just enough to keep your senses on edge. His other hand finds its way between your legs, working your clit in small circles.

It’s sensory overload being played with in so many ways. Your core being fucked in perfect rhythm, your sensitive nipples twisting between his fingers, and your puffy clit being overstimulated. It’s like you’re falling apart right here in his arms and he loves it. Every single minute of it. You milk his cock so well when you’re like this, his whining, drooling, teary eyed girl. 

“C…cum first. You” you stutter, throwing your head back. Your fingers find his hair again and you pull it harder this time, arching your back and fluttering your walls. “Fill me up, Yeosang.” 

You’re so cute when you’re needy, too cute to deny. Truth is, he’s been holding back. He wanted to cum the second his cock felt what you were like without a condom. All this time the pressure’s been building and holding it back has been unbearable. His heart set on giving you what you want, as always, he slides down further on the couch, hitting your sweet spot as he fucks into you harder. 

“You’re so pretty you know that?” he growls, taking his bottom lip between his teeth, “You’re gonna make such a pretty mommy, aren’t you?”

You tug at his hair, swirling your hips in his lap, “Yes, daddy.”

Your words are like magic. One final twitch of his cock and he’s spilling inside of you so hard that you can feel him painting your walls. You wanted to be full and you are. So full of his seed that it’s dripping from your pussy, leaking all over him. The fullness sends you crashing towards your high, your walls gripping him tighter than ever as you both shiver in each other’s arms. 

“Oh god, don’t stop” you moan, greedy for more of his cum. Lucky for you it’s still flowing and your pussy devours it, taking every drop until you’re both spent. Cradling you in his arms, Yeosang brushes your hair back out of your face and kisses your cheek, lulling you down from your high. 

“You know I meant that” he says, breathlessly.

“Meant what?” you ask, stroking the muscular arms responsible for keeping you upright. 

“You’ll make a great mom. I can’t wait to see it” he smiles, planting another kiss on your cheek. “We just gotta keep working on it. Ready to go again?”

“Sir, you’re insatiable! I need to get away from you!” you giggle, clumsily pulling away from him and hobbling towards the stairs. 

Yeosang chases after you, scooping you into his arms with a mischievous grin on his face, “Well how else are babies made, honey?” 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I saw Charlie was on your list and screamed! (get it?) I would love Charlie secretly having sex with the popular school princess after she got sorely dumped by her popular boyfriend. They can wear cute matching halloween costumes and get caught together on the couch by Kirby. She is the only of her friend who wouldn't make too much fun of her

Some late (slightly) spooky vibes with Charlie. There is not enough fics about him *crying*

Warnings: mention of cheating, secret meetings

—

While everyone thought you were heartbroken after getting cheated on by Trevor, you were having the best time bouncing on Charlie Walker’s cock. You and him were an unusual match — the popular princess and the history geek —, but you worked. 

It all began two weeks ago when you and Trevor got into an argument in his truck. He was supposed to take you to his place since his parents were out of town for the weekend, but when he stopped for gas on the way there, he left his phone unlocked and you saw a new message coming in from ‘Tamara🍑’ — a fucking nude. You confronted him about it and he called you out for invading his privacy and snooping through his phone when it was his fault for leaving his phone unlocked and sexting with other girls behind your back. Because apparently, there was more than one. 

What a piece of shit. 

Between the heated voices and the tears, Trevor stopped the truck and told you to get out…on the side of the road. Thankfully, you knew where you were, but it wasn’t less shitty of him to dump you on the street like that. 

You tried to call Kirby, but it went to voicemail. Where was she? And to make the situation worse, your phone was running low on battery. 

It was shortly after that Charlie found you. He was walking home from Robbie’s and found you sitting on the curbside, crying.  It was dark and difficult to see, but he knew it was you. He recognized your pink socks peeking out of your sneakers. 

He approached you slowly, coming to a stop beside you, and looked down at your tear stained face. “Uh, hey…You alright?” Charlie knew it was a stupid question. You were clearly upset, but he asked anyway.

‘’I think Trevor and I just broke up,’’ you said simply. 

‘’What happened?’’ he asked, not really caring but willing to be the ear or shoulder you needed. Charlie would do anything to get close to you. 

You hesitated. You would have preferred to talk to your best friend about this, but Kirby wasn't picking up your calls. Charlie was just your table neighbor from Spanish class, but he was right there. 

‘’I caught him sexting other girls.’’ 

Disbelief and anger crossed Charlie’s face. You said girls in plural, as in more than one. 

He shook his head slightly, looking at you with sympathy, and sat down next to you on the curb. ‘’Fucking asshole.’’ 

You couldn’t agree more. 

Charlie pulled his sleeve up in his hand, carefully wiping the tears off your face. His hand lingered on your chin for a moment before letting his arm fall back to his side. “If you were my girlfriend, I could never cheat on you. You’re the prettiest girl in this shithole.”

His kind words caused a blush to form on your face. You’ve never really paid attention to Charlie before. All you knew about him was that he was president of the Woodsboro Cinema Club, which Kirby was part of. You’ve also been to last year’s Stab-a-thon with her. It was your first time seeing Stab. You remember Charlie sitting next to you and telling you all sorts of facts about the movie. It was sweet of him, and surprisingly interesting. 

When you were in her car, Kirby pointed out that he’s been crushing on you for a long time.  

You didn't remember how it happened, but you kissed Charlie. Maybe it was because you were hurt and needed comfort, or maybe it was because you needed to feel loved after finding out Trevor’s side girls. If he was sexting with other girls, he clearly didn't love you enough. So, you decided to find affection from someone who would give it to you. It was wrong to take advantage of Charlie’s feelings, to use him to make yourself feel better, but your heart was hurting and it was clouding your judgment.

Charlie was stunned when your lips touched his. He didn't think he would ever get a chance with you. Popular girls never fall for the geeks. That only happens in rom-coms. But here you were, kissing him and grabbing the front of his hoodie to pull him closer.

As you kissed, he could feel the damp streaks of your tears on your cheeks, and smell the sweet vanilla of your perfume. He let you pull him like a puppet, just happy that you were kissing him and finally giving him the attention he’s been dreaming of for so long…even if it was just you needing comfort.  

You took comfort to another level when you followed Charlie to his house and asked him to take you to his bed. He should have pushed you away and offered to walk you home, but his dick was so hard and straining against his pants from the feeling of your tits pressing against his chest.  

After that night, you started seeing each other regularly.  

Despite his lack of experience, Charlie was a good listener and a quick learner. He was sweet and funny…and a little bit of a freak too. He let you do things Trevor would never have, like letting you on top and taking full control, or putting a finger up his ass. It sounded unpleasant, but Charlie never came faster. You were both shocked. 

Tonight was the Halloween party at Kirby’s. You usually were not that excited for Halloween, but you couldn’t wait to see Charlie’s reaction to your costume. The horror movie nerd in him will love it. You spent the day helping her put out decorations and made spooky snacks. Cooking was not your best talent, but the mummy dogs and graveyard brownies were looking good. 

‘’Laurie Strode?’’ Kirby said with a frown when she saw you later that night, dressed in  a blue shirt and a blond wig. ‘’Since when do you watch horror movies?’’

‘’I’m not a fanatic like you, but I do watch some of them,’’ you corrected, making yourself a drink and taking one of the graveyard brownies. 

Skeptical, Kirby hummed, and bit the head off a green sour patch kids. ‘’Charlie!’’ she called toward the living room. ‘’I think I found your other half!’’ 

Your heart started pounding in your chest, thinking you had been discovered by Kirby, but she actually meant your costumes. You were Laurie Strode and he was…Michael Myers. 

With a drink in one hand, Charlie Walker entered the room. He raised his eyebrows as soon as he saw you, a smile forming on his face. Your shirt was visibly too small and tight around the chest, which triggered mental visuals of what was underneath. 

‘’Not babysitting tonight?’’ he asked, trying to compose himself. Even after a few weeks of being together, he still got a little flustered around you.  

You shook your head. ‘’No one needed me, I guess.’’ 

‘’Just because you’re off duty doesn’t mean I won’t stab you tonight.’’ Charlie took a sip of his beer, hoping it would make you laugh. 

You did laugh, as a matter of fact. It was a dorky joke, but his delivery was charming enough to amuse you. 

‘’Do you want to take a picture,’’ you asked, pulling out your phone. 

Charlie nodded and you posed as your characters — you screaming while he attempted to stab you. It wasn’t strange for you to get close to him, and to be touchy — you’ve touched each other a lot more intimately —, but the other people at the party were surprised to see you both socializing with each other. To their knowledge, you and Charlie only knew each other through mutual friends. The complicity and the comfortableness between you should not have been there. 

After taking pictures, Olivia snatched you away from him and began telling you about the guy she just made out with but was now avoiding because she didn’t want him to think he had a chance with her. You felt bad for leaving Charlie like that, but you couldn’t tell Olivia you were talking to him because she would have asked questions. You didn’t want to deal with her judgment. She may be your friend, but she would judge you for having sex with Charlie. 

The only person who wouldn’t judge you too much is probably Kirby. 

But you liked having a secret affair with Charlie. It was something that was only yours. A part of your life you didn’t share with anyone. 

You crashed on the couch with a tired yawn as the house started to empty out. The party had been fun, but after hours of loud music and chatter, the sudden quiet felt like a welcome relief. You took the tv remote and flipped through the channels. It’s Halloween night, there must be something good on. 

Ah, Nightmare on Elm street. 

Settling back into the cushions, you tried to catch up with the scene on the tv. The movie was only fifteen minutes in, so it shouldn't be too hard to follow. 

‘’The reboot isn't half as bad as people make it out to be,’’ a voice chimed in from behind. 

You glanced up to see Charlie leaning over the back of the couch. A smile curled on your lips, pleased to see him. You assumed he had left with Robbie. 

‘’The lead acting sucked, the CGIs were horrible, the kills were nothing new, and come on, Krueger was already a child killer, it was unnecessary to make him a child rapist too—’’ Charlie went on.

You shot him a glare. ‘’Don’t spoil the whole movie! I’ve never seen it.’’ 

Charlie’s expression changed. ‘’Are you serious?! Never?’’ He stepped around the couch and flipped through Kirby’s DVD collection under the tv. It was small, but he knew she had the Nightmare on Elm street box set. ‘’We’re fixing that right now. You must watch the original. This is garbage compared to it.’’

‘’But you just said it wasn’t bad,’’ you said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

Charlie looked over his shoulder, correcting you. ‘’That’s not what I said. I said it isn't half as bad as people make it out to be. Not that it was great.’’

He set the disc in the DVD player, then sat with you on the couch.

You were quickly captivated by the movie, your eyes never leaving the tv screen as you watched Freddy torment these teenagers in their dreams — well, nightmares. The character of Freddy looked different from the one in the remake, and Charlie explained that it was because it wasn’t Robert Englund under the makeup. 

When you got to the scene where Glen overheard Tina and Rod having sex in Tina’s parent’s bedroom, Charlie shifted on the couch. The scene was over thirty seconds, and hearing moanings while sitting next to you was making his mechanic suit feel tight in the crotch area. At his house, he would have made a move, but you were at Kirby’s. She could come in at any moment. 

His shifting got your attention. You looked at Charlie, who was staring at the tv with a clenched jaw, and immediately figured what was happening. He was terrible at hiding that he was turned on. Mischief in your eyes, you couldn’t resist having a little fun. Quietly, you moved your hand towards his thigh.

Charlie’s body stiffened automatically as he felt your hand on his thigh. He was hoping you didn’t notice how he was getting hard, but it was too late for that now. 

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but then you moved your hand higher. ‘’Stop,’’ he muttered through gritted teeth, covering your hand with his. ‘’Kirby—’’

‘’She’s not here. Everyone’s gone home.’’ 

‘’It’s her house. She’s somewhere.’’ 

You sighed. ‘’Then, let’s go somewhere else.’’

—

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