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kikixreverie · 4 months ago

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Your boys

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Female reader

Summary - The war has been a brutal reality check for you in more ways than one, the first being that life is far more fragile than you thought, and the second that you were deeply in love with not one… but both of your best friends.

Word count - 8k

Warnings - (18+) Smut, threesome, oral sex, handjob, mentions of war and homophobia.

A/N - Hi, im still here kinda. Suffered a pretty rough, year long writers block and then was finally able to edit this one shot I wrote ages ago. I hope you enjoy it and all its filth.

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The half-empty bar rings with laughter and the clinking of glasses as its patrons drown out their sorrows with liquor, a temporary haven for those seeking distraction from the heartlessness they've seen in the past few years. The smoke in the air was thick, but better than what you were used to, the scent of tobacco, not fire out on the field, though it lingers in your nose all the same.

The music, a familiar jazz tune carries through that thickened air, paired with deep laughter from rowdy men trying to ignore the sickening sense of dread they all pretend not to feel. Your attention however, is divided. Humming softly to the tune you can only half remember, your focus stays fixed on him—Bucky Barnes, gazing from afar at his wide, mirthful grin, those blue eyes of his reflecting the low lighting of the bar as he sips at yet another beer.

You watch as Steve walks over to rejoin them, more drinks in his hands which he passes to the surrounding men with a nod, which they each take from him, too distracted with their chatter to thank him. Bucky chuckles, shifting back from the group to say something to Steve, a sly grin gracing his lips, smirking as Steve laughs softly at his joke, sadly too far away for you to be in on it.

You get lost in the sight of the men you've known far longer than you haven't, and have seen sink into themselves more and more in recent years, weathered by war, and yet, beneath the surface, your heart can still manage to find a lesser problem to dwell on—feelings you never even asked for becoming even more known to you the more you watch them, both so pretty. They’d always been pretty.

"Come here often?"

You sigh at the unexpected voice, an instinctual reaction at this point, and regretfully you looked away from the two men, staring down at your glass for a moment before you tilted your head to the left and eyed her with fake annoyance, staring deadpan at the mischievous smirk playing on her red lips. You both know she caught you staring.

You look down at your drink again, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass as you lift it to take another sip and wince, "No, should I?"

Her smirk grows wider, resting her elbow on the sticky bar top. She shrugs, "Depends what you're here for."

You pause for a few seconds, squinting at her as if flicking through the possible reasons to be in this dingy bar, other than an easy escape from the war outside. "Alcohol?" You ask, raising a brow. The only reason you were in this bar would be for Bucky and Steve.

"Ah, well in that case, no. The beer here is watered-down and overpriced." She quips, clinking her glass with yours before taking the seat beside you.

"Oh, that explains it." You respond, sighing dramatically as you take a swig from your glass. Peggy hums softly, her fingertips drifting over the lip of her glass. You can feel her eyes on you, as usual, watching, assessing the situation, and you take a risky glance at her, slightly apprehensive, not looking forward to the way she's going to read you like a goddamn book. "What?"

"Why are you over here, all by yourself?" She asks, her head tilted with curiosity.

You take pause at her question, setting your drink back down with a sigh, gaze drifting back over to the group of men talking loudly with warm grins on their faces, all the happiest you'd seen them in weeks if not months... actually years.

"I don't know, I just needed some time alone I guess." You shrug, which immediately earns you a disbelieving scoff.

"Bullshit, the one thing no sergeant would want at a time like this is to be alone. It's a tough job, we all survive on these rare few moments when we get to feel some resemblance of normal. Now tell me why you're sitting here alone."

You don't respond for a long moment, eyes flicking over to your childhood best friends again, as they often do when you find yourself in any room with them. "I'm just in my head. I can't stop thinking about what could happen... and what will. I just- I wish I could go back just for a moment, just to remember what it was like before everything went to shit. I'm sick of thinking the worst every time it falls quiet."

She listens quietly, then nods, her hand moving to your arm to give a reassuring squeeze, "I think we all understand that feeling."

You nod too, chewing nervously on your lower lip, feeling that sinking feeling like you've ruined the small moment of fun you’d been granted by taking notice of those anxious thoughts. Bucky's hand rests on Steve's shoulder as he talks into his ear, his lips curling up as he laughs through his own words, Steve blushing beside him, shaking his head and looking down at the floor.

"I'd give anything to go back." You whisper, eyes glued to them, thinking about the times Bucky would drag both you and Steve out dancing with him, and Steve would always step on your feet, and then apologise with pink cheeks each time as you reassured him you lost sensation in them two songs ago.

"I'm guessing you're talking about your boys." Responds Peggy and you nod before your eyebrows furrow, turning to her quickly with a confused frown on your face.

"My boys?" You repeat, ignoring how the notion of it makes you feel, because it just sounds completely ridiculous - and yes, they are your boys.

"Yes. I mean, they are your closest friends, aren't they?" She laughs, and you give your sad attempt at a normal laugh back to her.

"Yeah, of course. We've been best friends since we were kids." You say back, cringing at your awkwardness and sipping on your drink to try hide it.

It falls silent for a moment, which was a nice respite to the conversation that was making you anxious enough. Peggy obviously breaks it again. "You miss them."

It wasn't a question, so you don’t answer, just stare down silently at your glass, swallowing the lump in your throat, that anxiety just getting worse, weighing you down onto your seat. You nod because it's true. With how hectic and scary the past few years have been, all three of you have changed in some way, and you've not had time to get to know those differences. You'd barely spoken to them about anything other than mission plans in weeks, everyone just more than eager to win this war and get home.

"Go talk to them, I'm sure they miss you too." Peggy offers softly, patting your shoulder again before giving you a smile. She slips off her chair, finally leaving you with your thoughts, walking across the bar to sit with the howling commandos with a half-empty drink in her hand, saluting the very boys you were just talking about, and you fight to ignore the stupid jealousy you feel when they both return the gesture to the gorgeous woman.

You’re in way over your head.

You’d hate to admit it, but she’s right, you miss them, very, very much. Things haven't been the same since the war started, and you know it'd be naive to think it will ever go back to how it was. You feel that breath-stealing sadness whenever you look at Steve, a feeling you know is mutual for Bucky too. You still don't always recognise him when he's facing away from you, searching in a crowd for a small, delicate Steve that no longer exists, before you remember the beast of a man he'd become and feel a different kind of warm flutter when you see him.

Bucky is different too, quieter, rougher around the edges, darker. You miss that boyish charm of his, the easygoing, easy-loving James Barnes everyone knew. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, but he guards it now, keeps it locked away for safekeeping. He barely spoke for weeks after Steve got him out of that place, barely ate. You haven’t seen him cry in months either, which is somehow much more worrying than if he were to break down into tears each night like a lot of the boys do in secret.

It hurts when you think back to before, a time when the three of you were so close you spent most nights sleeping at each other's houses, a time when your biggest worry was that the neighbours were gossiping about your 'morals', despite how many times Bucky reminded you that the old lady next door's opinion shouldn't matter to you.

But it did. Sometimes even you worried about your 'morals', a socially-expected guilt clouding the thoughts you'd have about them, both of them. It's always been more. A part of you always knew there was a deeper understanding the three of you had for each other, like how soulmates would be described in the romance books you had read, only it couldn't be so easy that you were in love with one of your best friends, it had to be both.

A person sits beside you again, and you roll your eyes with a small smile, turning towards them and expecting it to be Peggy back to drag you over to everybody else, but you quickly drop the expression at the sight of a man you had never seen before, smiling at you as if you'd invited him to sit there.

"Come here often?" The man asks, not sounding the slightest bit ironic, as amusing as that is for you. You hide your laugh behind your almost empty glass, which doesn’t help you one bit seeing as the glass is clear. You resort to biting your cheek when he just stares back expectantly, apparently waiting for you to swoon and faint into his arms.

You shake your head, reminding yourself to definitely not come here often. "No, sorry." You respond, mentally scolding yourself for apologising for no reason, and then scolding yourself for scolding yourself. Can he just fuck off maybe?

"That's okay. Pretty dame like you in a bar like this, you here with anyone?" He sounds like Bucky, you think to yourself, only its not charming one bit when this stranger calls your a ‘dame’. He moves closer to you, his arm almost touching yours, which was immediately enough for you to shift away, feeling uncomfortable and annoyed that he was in your space. You scoff, deciding you've seen far too much to give a shit about upsetting some creepy guy in a bar. You open your mouth to shut him down.

"Yeah, she's with us."

For fucks sake why can't I do the fun part?

You already know it’s Steve's voice, strong with that Brooklyn accent, even stronger with the distaste in his voice. You don’t turn to look at him, still trying to keep the distance between you and the guy who’s staring wide-eyed up at Captain America.

"Maybe go and bother someone else." Bucky adds, moving in behind the guy, his tone much less polite than the Captain's.

The man doesn’t say a word, much to your amusement, just puts his head down and stands, walking away, probably going to find some other poor woman to bother, or nurse a stronger drink and lick his wounds.

They sit either side of you, Bucky's hand moving to your back. "You alright, doll?"

You sigh and nod, rubbing your forehead and smiling softly at him "I'm fine, Buck. You know I could've easily scared him away."

Bucky nods, smirking softly. He's seen you shut down many a guy before the war,

"I know, just making sure."

It falls silent for a moment, Bucky doesn't break eye contact with you and you can't bring yourself to do it for him, his gaze soft and inviting, almost as distracting as the way he wets his lower lip the way he often does.

"Why are you sittin' over here?" Steve asks, and it finally draws you to look away from Bucky, clearing your throat before turning to Steve on your left.

"Just lost in thought I guess." You respond with a shrug, deciding not to disclose the fact that you were lost in thought about them, as per usual.

Steves cheeks remain a little pink and you don’t get why, wondering if he had noticed the weird staring going on between you and Bucky, which only makes you blush just the same in embarrassment.

"Thinking 'bout what, doll?" Bucky presses, his warm breath brushing against your shoulder. You don't let yourself look at him again, staring straight ahead as your stomach flutters with nerves and something else you don't want to think about yet.

You shrug, breathless as Steve inches slightly closer to you too, as if he and Bucky had some nefarious plan to make you want them impossibly more, his shoulder pressing against yours.

"I don't know. Just lost in thought about... how bad the beer is." You say, sheepish at your stupid response, but Steve laughs sweetly, which only makes you smile.

Bucky only hums in response though and you look over at him again, that enticing look in his eyes, "How about we get out of here? Just us three, we can swing it like old times, got a fairly decent bottle of whiskey in my room that's waiting to be drank."

You inhale softly in surprise and excitement. It certainly wouldn't be the first time the three of you had gotten drunk together alone, but it's been a while, and for some reason, it seemed like something different now, something new.

You glance over at Steve to see him waiting for your response, seemingly already aware of Bucky's idea, so you nod, not trusting yourself to speak and not look stupid.

You all leave the bar together after gathering your things, purposefully ignoring the smirk Peggy gives you as you walk past, just wanting to get out of the stuffy bar and away from the noise for a while.

It was a silent taxi ride the whole way back to the hotel you were all currently staying at, though not awkward. You sat between the two men, Bucky's thigh pressed against yours while you and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder.

You'd always thought that taxis were fairly spacious until you had to share one with a super-soldier and James Buchanan Barnes.

Steve pays the taxi driver with the best tip he can afford and soon enough you were all piling into Bucky's room.

You sigh when you walk through the door, not giving a second to hesitate to go to the bed, falling forward with another sigh as you stretch out across the mattress, kicking off your uncomfortable shoes and letting them hit the floor with a soft thud. It wasn’t often you had access to an actual bed.

You can hear Bucky and Steve laughing as they take off their jackets, which you didn't have the nerve to watch them do.

"Comfy?" Steve asks, walking over to the small radio on the bedside table and switching through the channels till he found some decent music to have on quietly in the background.

You nod, humming softly and closing your eyes, "You try wearing heels for a whole night only 3 days after getting off the field."

Bucky sits beside you on the bed, looking down at you as you hesitantly peek your eyes open to look at him.

"Can't imagine the pain, doll. Want a foot rub?" He teases, a lopsided smirk playing on lips.

You scoff in response, laughing softly and definitely not considering his most likely joking offer. Instead of putting your sore feet on his lap, you just blush and sit up, shoving at his broad shoulder. "Shut up. Where's that decent whiskey you promised, hm?"

He laughs, picking something up off the floor from beside the bed and holding up a full bottle, passing it to you as he takes a glass from the bedside table near him, holding it out for you to pour the liquid into it.

"Hey guys, I'm gonna go change, then I'll be back, okay?" Says Steve, a smile on his face as he walks back towards the door, and you and James both nod, watching the tall man duck slightly through the doorway and leave room gently shutting the door behind him.

Its comfortably quiet in the hotel room, though the atmosphere slightly different. You sip at the strong-tasting, barely decent whiskey, the liquid burning its way down your throat to settle in your stomach, warm and familiar.

Your gaze again drifts to him, watching over the rim of your glass as Bucky moves to sit against the bed frame after pouring his own drink, shoes kicked to the floor, watching you right back, his head resting against the dark wooden frame, a soft look on his handsome face. A strand of his dark hair falls onto his forehead, and you follow it like an arrow pointing down to the white shirt he's wearing, the top few buttons undone as some sick way to punish you even further.

"You're always so sweet on him." He murmurs quietly, breaking the silence. He doesn’t sound one bit jealous, only fond, his head tilted slightly, his tongue casually dragging across his lower lip.

"Aren't we both?" You tilt your head at him as you ask the question. It feels serious, despite the sweetness of his smile, theres something more hidden in the words, but neither of you are ready to say something like that out loud, the denial comfortable for a moment longer.

He goes quiet again, chewing on his lip as he stares down at the bed sheets, sighing softly. "I guess it's hard not to be. I know he's all tall and macho now," He pauses to huff a laugh, you watching and listening quietly and intently, him looking up to the ceiling as he continues, the smile fading to something softer, "But he's still Stevie."

A hint of a smile pulls at your lips, and you nod, holding your drink up to not spill anything as you shuffle over on your knees to sit beside him against the headboard, huffing softly at the movement, then propping up pillows behind you to be more comfortable as Bucky watches with an amused smile.

"And you're still Buck." You add once you’re settled, looking at his gorgeous face, your chin tilted upwards, and his down. He swallows softly, and you notice the movement of it, his adams apple moving in a distracting way that you swear makes you feel thirsty, so you take another sip of your drink, hoping it will settle the feeling it obviously wont.

"You sure about that?" He asks, his eyes flicking down, watching the whiskey swirl in his glass, lips set in something closer to a frown now. You know he's hurting, even if he hasn't felt ready to confide in you about it yet.

"Very." He looks at you when you say it, and you hold his gaze this time, his stare so intense, eyes so blue, lips so pink.

It takes your dumb, denial-stuck mind a moment longer to realise that you were looking down at his lips and that he was looking at yours at the same time, and there was no actual effort to either of you leaning closer, just a magnetism and a feeling spreading through your chest and butterfly filled stomach that you don’t even question it, don’t think once about the consequences, and technically its Bucky that ends up closing the tiny gap you’d made for him to do so, putting his glass down at the bedside table closest to him as his soft, warm lips make contact, eyes drifting closed,his hand then reaching across you and taking your glass too placing it down.

With his hands free, they move to cup your face, lips moving against yours, the kiss soft and sweet as your fingers drift up to the nape of his neck, his right hand reaching down for your thigh, grabbing flesh and trying to pull you closer as your lips move faster, a realisation that this kiss can’t last forever and you both swear you need it to.

It shifts from sweet and soft, to passionate and fast-moving, an almost desperate feeling urging you to press closer, your lips coaxing Bucky's to open as his hands grip your skin, your hips, waist, thighs. You just want to taste him, just like you'd always dreamed of doing. It barely feels real, but you barely think about it when you slide your tongue against his lips and earn yourself a soft, heated groan in response.

The booze doesn’t matter, you were drunk on him, butterflies in your stomach, heart hammering in your chest, an ache forming between your legs.

You'd never experienced a kiss like this before, never this intense desperation, so needy for more, clutching at eachother and shifting on the bed, breathing against his cheek.

Time is far lost to you both, only warm skin and hot mouths and soft lips, but the noise at the door breaks through the goodness of the moment, and you and Bucky quickly pull away from each other, panting for air as your heart hammers in your chest. Steve stands at the door wide-eyed.

Bucky licks his lips wordlessly as he tries to calm himself down, sighing and pushing his hair back, looking down at the bedsheets.

"Steve?" You ask when he doesn’t say anything, anxiety clouding the heated memory replaying of the kiss, as you wait for any reaction from Steve.

Steve couldn’t look more shocked, unable to look either of you in the eye, standing sheepishly at the door as he flushes pink.

"Sorry." He mutters, reaching for the door handle and making his turn to leave, and your heart lurches, sitting up to stop him, but Bucky speaks up before you can remember what words are.

"Steve." He says softly, and the blonde pauses, looking over at Bucky and waiting to be chastised for entering the room without knocking, but Bucky only offers a small, hesitant smile, "C'mere."

Poor Steve stands frozen for a while, face only getting redder as you and Bucky stare back at him, the image of the two of you kissing, Bucky's hand squeezing your bare thigh under your dress, yours tugging on his hair, its heavy in the forefront of his mind, and it sets something off in his stomach, something he likes the feeling of.

Bucky gesturesfor him to sit on the bed with them and slowly, Steve does.

"I didn't mean to-" Steve begins, but Bucky cut him off and you watch dumbly as he handles the situation.

"It's okay." He assures, falling silent for a moment as he tries to find the words to say what he really wanted to, "We're all friends, right? It shouldn't be awkward."

It’s actually incredibly awkward, but denial was a much easier option, and so you simply avoid eye contact with either of them as you think you’re so good at doing, as you reached over Bucky for your drink again, taking a long sip of the alcohol, focusing on the burn in your throat rather than the ache between your thighs.

"Yeah," Steve responds, sounding as breathless as you feel.

"Maybe-" Bucky stops himself, and you lookover at him, waiting with bated breath for him to say 'Maybe we should just forget it ever happened' but his mind goes elsewhere, "Maybe you two should kiss. You know... make it even."

The tension in the room couldn’t be any thicker, and so completely silent, not a breath between you. You chance a risky glance at Steve and he stares straight at Bucky, mouth agape, eyes wide.

You feel like you need to say something, feel like you’re fighting between your mind, your heart, and your… The nerve builds up quick and words rush out of your mouth, just needing to escape this awkwardness, "Bucky, I don't think Steve would-"

"C'mon, I'm not blind, I see the way you two look at each other. You're telling me neither of you is at least a tiny bit curious what it would be like?" Bucky cuts you off, looking between you and Steve with a raised brow, "Don't feel forced to do anything, of course. Just... I don't know... Think about it?"

Oh, you’re thinking about it, you have been thinking about it, for years, in fact you’re imagining it in way too much detail, but acting on it like this, rather than a random, heated frenzy like with Bucky, is much more nerve-wracking.

Its when you risk a glance at Steve that the doubts starts to slip away slightly. its so painstakingly obvious, the blush on his face, the way he can’t look you in the eye and he seemed just as deep in thought as you. You remind yourself who you're with, though much taller now, he’s still Stevie. Your teeth catch your lip, nerves fading enough that you feel less awkward and more anticipating. It already feels like it's the end of the world anyway, actions tend to feel much less consequential.

"I don't know, Steve..." You start, watching with rising butterflies as he looks over at you, his lips parted, "Maybe he's right."

James grins like you’ve joined the dark side, smirking down at his glass, just listening to you shift into a second devil on Stevie’s shoulder.

"P-pardon?" He almost whispers, and you smile softly, still polite Stevie.

"Maybe we should kiss." You manoeuvre onto your knees, and James wordlessly takes your drink again, placing it back down and inhaling softly, leaning back against the bed frame again and just watching quietly. Steve breathes in, watching you move closer. "Only if you want to, of course." You add for good measure, and Steve gulps, lips parting as he looks over at Bucky, as if for reassurance, Bucky just stares back. You crawl over, settling in front of him, "Do you want to?"

He takes another moment, before softly, he nods, taking a deep breath.

You look into his eyes, scooting close enough for your thigh to touch his, and you reach for his broad shoulders, biting your lip softly. You can’t quite wrap your head around the idea of kissing either of them ever, especially not both... in front of each other in the time span of five minutes... but there’s no room for regret, just you and your boys...

Your hand glides over to his face, holding his jaw softly as you tilt his head down to you, pressing your lips against his.

This kiss was softer, slower. You knew Steve had kissed before, you were the one who heartbreakingly caught him with not one, but two USO girls, but hes certainly not as experienced as Bucky, nervous and shy, so you stay as gentle as possible, not pushing him to go any further than the gentle touch of your lips until he presses for more, tentative, but he follows your lead, his right hand hovering over your waist before he pulls it away, and you kiss him once more before breaking the contact. You can tell how nervous he still is.

The room is still as you and Steve pull away from each other, Steve's focus stuck on you as you sit back slightly, looking over at Bucky, as your lips tingle from the kiss, curious to see his reaction, and the sight of him makes your stomach flip.

He sits rested back against the headboard again, legs splayed out in front of him as he watches the two of you with a clearly lustful gaze, his lower lip caught between his teeth, this dark desperation in his eyes, and its like you can read the dirty thoughts clouding his mind.

You don’t think at all when the words left your mouth, but they do, "Your turn."

Buckys lips part, eyes widening slightly and Steve takes an audible breath from beside you.

"What?" The blonde gulps.

You swallow your nerves again, Bucky was right, he could see the way you and Steve look at each other, because you've always looked at each other that way, just like you and Bucky look at each other, just like Bucky and Steve.

It's something that none of you had ever addressed until now, something you'd never let yourselves act upon, but who cares what people think at this point, who cares where this could lead you. If the war has given anything but trauma to you, it's shown you how fucking fragile life is, how much you'd regret it if you never acted upon these feelings, how much they'd regret it.

"You two should make it even, right?"

Steve stares at you, not letting his gaze drift to Bucky, but Bucky stares right at him, something intense in his eyes, something between realisation and surrender, and its clear that he’s waiting for Steve to reject it, to reject him, to wrinkle his nose at the disgusting notion of a man kissing another man, just as everybody else would do, but Bucky knows that wasn't a fair assumption to make about the golden-hearted man he knows their Stevie to be. He still waits though, preparing himself to have to have to take the rejection.

"I-" Steve starts, the very same worries as Bucky filling his head.

"Steve, aren't you at least a tiny bit curious?" You ask gently, using Bucky's previous words in hopes of lightening the mood slightly, which seems to work when Steve huffs a small laugh, though he gives no response.

You look at Bucky, seeing the heartbreaking disappointment and acceptance in his eyes. You nudge his foot, giving him a soft smile of encouragement when he looks up at you.

He gives you a small smile back, before looking over at Steve, wetting his lips.

"Stevie." He almost whispers his name, and his gaze is soft when it meets Steve’s, "Come here."

Steve decides not to give himself the chance to hesitate, moving towards Bucky before he can think about what he’s doing, and Bucky leans forward to meet him halfway, his palm sliding across his cheek, thumb smoothing along the skin before he closes the space and Bucky and Steve are kissing right in front of you.

Its gentle for a few seconds, hesitant on both parts before Steve’s reaching out, hands clutching the material of Bucky's shirt, pulling him forward, pulling him closer.

Their kiss was rougher, all tongue and teeth and the sight was a lot to try to handle, all you could really do was squeeze your thighs together and enjoy the sight of your two favourite boys, enjoying how eachother kiss.

Bucky detaches his mouth from Steve's to meet your eye, pulling you closer as his hand holds the side of your neck.

He kisses you, open-mouthed and needy as his tongue glides across your lip, steve groaning softly at the sight, his hand once again hovering over the curve of your waist.

"It's okay, Steve." You murmur against Bucky's lips before you pull back to look at Steve, gripping his hand with your own and guiding him to touch you where he had wanted to, "You can touch me. You can touch me anywhere you'd like. Both of you."

"Fuckin’ Christ, doll." Bucky sighs, lips mouthing across your jaw, his head dipping lower to kiss your neck, "You want that huh? Want both of us to touch you?"

You nod as you kiss Steve, Bucky giving you a hickey just below your ear like a goddamn teenager. Bucky makes his way to Steve's neck then, curious to what noises he could pull from Captain America himself, and he chuckles against Steve's neck when he sighs softly into your mouth, as sensitive and worked up as Bucky had always wondered he'd be.

When Bucky and Steve start kissing again, you take the opportunity to catch your breath, sitting back for a moment to watch the way Bucky pushes Steve down against the mattress, everything escalating so quick and yet feeling exactly like the way it should be. He adjusts his hips over Steve, pressing against him, and Steve groans softly, his rising up to meet bucky’s.

You bite your lip at the sight, your hand almost subconsciously sliding between your thighs, applying slight pressure against your underwear as your thighs squeeze together again.

It just feels so right, and your body is reacting like it never has before, all reservations out of the window when you fingers press against your clit ever so slightly, breath catching when Bucky starts talking.

"Y'see that Stevie? Look how desperate our girl is for us. She just has to touch herself, doesn't she? Think we should help her out?" He murmurs, speaking the words into Steve's ear, though saying them loud enough for you to hear them too, and Steve nods quickly, no more hesitation, panting for breath, lips a pretty shade of kissed.

Our girl.

"God, yes." Steve answers.

Their attention turns to you, Bucky with that mischievous, knowing glint in his eye, "Why don't you help her out of that dress, Stevie."

Steve nods, following orders like this was a part of his training, moving closer towards you, more confident though a bit sheepish.

"Go on, honey." You say to him, kissing his jaw as his fingers brush against the zipper at the back of the dress. He somehow manages to unzip you as slow as physically possible, fingers dusting along your back in a way that brings on a shiver. He finally pulls the dress off over your head and Bucky gives a low whistle at the sight of you, their pretty lady just in her undergarments.

Your head tilts back when Bucky leans towards you and kisses your collarbone, the kisses trailing lower and lower until he was kissing across the tops of your breasts. You sigh at the sensation, loving the attention on you but it doesn’t seem vert fair you’re in your bra and panties only and these two were fully dressed. You tug at both Steve and Bucky's shirts until they get the hint and both start pulling them off, Steve's going over his head while you help Bucky undo the buttons on his.

From then on the clothes seem to keep coming, and you chuckle softly as Steve helps Bucky unbuckle his belt and pull his pants off. It doesn't take long before they're both left in only their underwear, and neither you nor Bucky give Steve the chance to blush or second guess anything when you lean towards him, kissing his shoulder and Bucky kissing his lips.

You'd think it would be overwhelming, but god it just feels so right.

You hum as fingers drift across you back to the clasp of your bra, Bucky looking at you, waiting for your permission, which you quickly give, nodding your head breathlessly before he quickly undoes the clasp, helping you out of the straps and then finally pulling the bra away.

"Fu-" Steve stops himself, staring down at your uncovered breasts, your peaked nipples, soft pretty skin, waiting desperately to be touched and he forces himself to close his eyes, convinced for a second that that was it, he was going to come right here and now in his briefs. Bucky chuckles, that cheeky grin on his face as he dips his head and kisses his way across your now bare chest, cupping your left breast gently and mouthing over your nipple, smirking as your fingers thread through his hair, swirling his tongue.

"I think we're corrupting our sweet little Stevie, love," Bucky murmurs, and you hum back at him, looking over at the blonde who sits in amusing deep concentration, trying desperately hard not to lose himself.

"I don't know, Buck. I reckon Stevie's much less innocent than you think. Plus, he's not so little anymore..." You tease, knowing he’s listening, so you reach over, your palm against Steve's thigh, "Why don't you show us, honey? Get out of that head of yours, and come play with me and Buck."

Even Bucky groans at that, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he continues to kiss you with a bit more hunger now.

Steve looks wrecked already, opening his eyes to look down at the two of you, skin against skin, waiting for him to come back to you.

"Why don't you tell us what you want, Steve?" You ask him, moaning softly when Bucky rubs his thumb over one of your nipples.

"I want.." He licks his lips, looking down your body, eyes lingering on the one place you’re still covered, "I want to touch you."

"Then touch me, Stevie." You respond and his hand drifts slowly to your thigh, Bucky still busy paying attention to your chest.

Steve's fingertips brush against the edge of your underwear, looking up at you for reassurance, "Even here?"

You sigh when Bucky grazes his teeth across your skin, tugging on his hair, "Especially there."

"Go on, Steve, I think she's still a bit overdressed," Bucky adds, encouraging him to strip you of your final layer, and Steve does so, feeling his cock throb as your bare pussy comes into view.

You part your legs for him, your inner thighs already showing how wet you are, waiting patiently for someone to finally touch you where you needed most, and when Steve brushes his fingers through your folds, tentatively exploring, nudging against your swollen clit as he did so, you moan openly.

Bucky leans back, looking down at you laid out across the mattress, completely bare beneath them as you lift your hips to meet Steve's hand, needing more pressure. Bucky reaches down for Steve's hand, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as he assists him.

"Touch her right here with more pressure. Make small circles." Bucky directs, and Steve gladly follows the instructions given, watching as you get more and more breathless as he touches you, his fingers getting covered in your slick as you whimper softly, "Just like that, Steve."

Steve bites his lip at Bucky praising him like that, his cock throbbing so hard in his briefs as he focuses on trying to make you feel good, before Bucky takes a hold of Steve's fingers, guiding them lower and lower until they were sliding into you. You gasp softly, head tilting back at the slight relief of no longer being empty, but you’re still no way near full, needing more and more, still, you enjoy this, shifting your hips as Bucky instructs Steve to curl his fingers.

A pretty sounding moan slips from your open mouth when Bucky really starts participating, leaning on one arm as the other hand moves down to you, his thumb almost softly rubbing over your clit, watching in gentle awe and focus as him and Steve’s hands take good care of you, Steve's two fingers fucking into you as Bucky builds a steady rhythm on your clit. It doesn’t take long of the repeated pattern before your hips roll forward unknowingly, getting closer and closer to coming, the heat in your body rising, every nerve tingling... so close.

"James, I'm-- Fuck, Stevie." You moan, enjoying having two names to beg to, feeling your body tighten up as they both continue until you’re over the edge, coming on your best friend's fingers, your body vibrating as they ease you through the strong orgasm, Bucky not stopping until you reach down and gently move his hand away, bordering on overstimulation as your body becomes overly sensitive.

"Holy fuck." Steve murmurs, and Bucky laughs at him, nudging his arm.

"Language." He teases.

"Shut up, punk." Replies Steve, pushing Bucky’s shoulder back. You lay there catching your breath, humming with a gentle smirk as you watch them act so casual after both giving you the best orgasm of your life, so far.

"God, just make out already." You joke, grinning at the two, your body relaxed, and Bucky gives you a look as you sit up.

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you." He nips at your shoulder, and you roll your eyes playfully, enjoying seeing him like this again, the happiest and most like himself you'd seen him in weeks, "Good, thing I'd like that too. Steve?"

Steve looks over at Bucky, nodding and moving closer to him, kissing softly.

You give yourself a moment to gather yourself, catching your breath, relaxing in the afterglow of the first orgasm you’ve had in a while, admiring them for a short while, and then eventually joining them, kissing across Bucky's shoulder, raking your nails through Steve's hair.

"Think Stevie's ever had someone's mouth on him before?" You murmur into Bucky's ear, feeling pride in the sigh he gives in response, pulling away from Steve's mouth, humming against your skin as he leans into you, head laid back against your shoulder, nose tucked against your neck.

Steve just couldn’t stop staring, his erection straining against his underwear, both of you watching him with those eyes. None of it feels quite real, like it’s all too good to be true, yet so much better than he imagined. He groans softly when Bucky moves his hand down, watching him as he presses his palm against his cock over the fabric.

"How 'bout it, Stevie? Think you could handle someone's mouth on your cock?" God, the words are so obscene, yet so natural as they fall from Bucky’s lips, Steve all but whimpers when the both of you start kissing on his neck, "Ever done that before, Steve?"

He shakes his head, hands reaching to touch both of them in any way he can, "God, please."

"Not God, angel." Bucky starts, the pet name rolling off his lips, smooth as butter, sweet as honey, "Just us."

His briefs were off, his cock springing up when it was finally released from the far too tight confines of his underwear. Bucky leans forward, kissing Steve as he guides him to lay back on the mattress, hovering over him.

The sight couldn’t be more mouth-watering, his cock a deep shade of pink as he leaks pre-cum onto his stomach, so desperate, kissing Bucky back like his life depended on it.

His stomach tightens when you start kissing your way down his chest until you finally reached the tip of his cock, wrapping a hand around the base, kissing the tip, hearing Steve moan into Bucky’s mouth.

You lick along the underside of his shaft, swirling your tongue over the head and liking the salty taste it left you with. Steve’s an utter mess, bucking his hips and squirming beneath you and Bucky when you finally put your mouth around him, no longer having the focus to continue kissing Bucky, instead just letting his head fall back against the pillows, breath laboured and heavy as you start to suck.

"C'mon, sweetheart. You can go deeper than that." Bucky purrs, tilting his head as you look up at him through your lashes, and you pull off of Steve, using your hand to make lazy strokes up and down his cock, shaking your head at the brunette.

"He's so big, Bucky," You bite your lip, and Steve whimpers softly at your compliment, watching as you fake a look of innocence, giving Bucky those doe eyes as you brush your thumb across the tip of Steve's cock. "D'you wanna taste him, Buck?"

Bucky already knows the answer to that, his cock was throbbing at the sight of you and Steve alone, but he glances up to Steve, meeting his distracted gaze and waiting for some sort of permission, which was given almost immediately, Steve frantically nodding his head.

Bucky smirks, winking at you as he adjusts himself on the bed, moving beside you, giving your lips a chaste kiss before lowering his head, your hand still holding his cock for Bucky to enjoy, his tongue circling the head just as you were doing only seconds ago, as you continue to stroke Steve's remaining length while Bucky starts to take him deeper into his mouth.

Steve couldn't hold back on the sounds he’s making, he's never been so vocal, never been so sensitive to touch, but he can’t help himself, Bucky's mouth felt so warm, so wet, and when he opens his blue eyes to look down at the two of you, he know he wont last much longer.

You bend your head down when Bucky comes up for air, tracing your tongue against Steve's cock as you meet Bucky's eye holding his heart-stopping gaze as Bucky started doing the same, both of your mouths on him at the same time.

It’s filthy, an act of sin no doubt you'll never come back from, but you wouldn’t want to anyway, humming when Steve starts panting, his abs constricting, you wrap your lips around the tip, pumping his cock with your hand until his cum filled your mouth, hearing the deep groan that reverberated through his chest as he came.

You swallow as you pulled away and a hand finds its way to your neck, Bucky pulling you closer. “No fair, you’re supposed to share, sweet girl.” He chastises softly, almost pouting, before he closes the gap to capture your lips with his own, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He moans softly at the taste of Steve's cum on your tongue, the pretty sound so perfect on your ears, only reminding you that Bucky was yet to be touched, focusing on yours and Steve's pleasure instead of his own. How very like him.

You rest your hand on his stomach as you kiss him back, gliding your fingers lower and lower until you reach the waistband of the underwear that he was still somehow wearing. You ping the elastic against his skin, smiling into the kiss when he only leaned closer.

He shudders as your hand finally slides past the band, wrapping around his cock and pulling him out. Neither of you made any move to remove his underwear, you both knew he was far too gone, too desperate to wait any longer, so you squeeze the base of his cock, pulling away from the kiss only to look at him.

Hair mussed, light eyes the darkest you'd ever seen them, as he watches every little move you make for him, his lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed pink. He finally looks as wrecked as Steve, who was still getting over the fact that he just came in his best friend's mouth.

You move your hand slowly at first, stomach fluttering with every strangled moan that caught in Bucky's throat, "You're all talk, ain't you Buck?"

"Fuck, doll- please- I need to come." He groans, eyes fluttering shut when you kiss his neck, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, arm wrapping around your waist.

"You look as desperate as our Stevie right now, James." You tease, but still speed up your hand for him, swirling your thumb across the slit to hear his breath hitch in his throat.

Bucky looks over at Steve then, giving a light-hearted scoff at the sight of him rock hard again, stroking slowly at his cock as he enjoys the show in front of him.

"Fuckin' super soldier." Bucky laughs, laying his cheek on your shoulder, groaning softly as his eyes flutter closed.

You can tell how close he is, moving his head to tuck right into the crook of your neck, talking himself away like he tends to do, "Fuck, feels so good, sweetheart. 'M so close- Never felt this good before, doll."

You were used to his nicknames by now, years of him calling you 'doll' more than he used your actual name usually had you rolling your eyes, but now, like this, it makes your stomach flutter.

It wasn't much longer till he was coming onto both of your stomachs, hot spurts painting your skin as Bucky's hips twitched forward with every second he comes, groaning as you continue to stroke him.

Steve follows yet again not long after, and a glance over to him laid against the headboard with his abdomen covered in his own spend has you blushing, never mind the fact that he'd just had his fingers inside you, and his cock in your mouth.

Bucky quickly cleans up your stomach with his discarded shirt, along with his own before he tosses it to Steve with a chuckle.

You’re all glowing, surprised by the complete lack of awkwardness despite all the things that had just happened in Bucky's hotel room. Instead, you all huddle together on the bed, your head laid on Steve's shoulder as Bucky rested his on your stomach, your fingers naturally finding themselves threading through his hair.

"Well, that was fucking amazing," Bucky murmurs, a content smile on his face as he looks over at you and Steve, his arms around your waist.

"Yeah, it was." Steve agrees, moving one of his hands through Bucky's hair too, before draping his arm above your head.

You go quiet for a moment, the afterglow not quite enough to keep the anxiety at bay anymore, "I just wish we'd done this earlier."

They know what you mean, they know what you’re insinuating, and the room falls silent. None of you could deny the dangers, the uncertainty ahead of you, but that didn't mean you couldn't enjoy the time you had up until that moment you’d all have to risk everything again.

"We can't think like that, baby," Bucky speaks first, his voice soft, gentle and yet serious, "I know it's hard not to, but we can't focus on the regrets. If anything, we just need to live the best we can with what we've got... and if I've got you two, I don't need anything else."

You nod, pressing your face into Bucky’s hair, although you can’t see Steve's face, you know that he agrees, his fingers brushing against your arm affectionately.

"Bucky's right. Let's just enjoy this, lord knows we've all been pining for each other for years."

You chuckle softly, having needed this soft moment for a long while, feeling warm and loved between them, hoping they feel it too.

1K notes · View notes

atlabeth · 11 months ago

Text

geyser

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.

a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song

wc: 6.5k

warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs

also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on

Percy thought that his head might explode.

He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets.

At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.

All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart.

Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown.

“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it.

“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.”

“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?”

Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.”

“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.”

“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him.

“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.”

“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.”

Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”

Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize.

But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size.

The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper.

His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.

There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun.

Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”

That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning.

“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”

“Does she go here?” Percy asked.

“She did.”

He frowned. “Where is she, then?”

“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on.

“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.”

Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed.

Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body.

“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”

Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”

“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”

Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn��t get anything out of him—especially not now.

“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”

An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!”

Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away.

He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later.

Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far.

…Gods.

Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought.

“Luke—”

“No!”

“Luke, please!”

“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—”

“She won’t know!”

“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!”

Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head.

“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!”

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips.

“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”

“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!”

“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.”

“If you say a single word—”

“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.”

“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.”

“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.”

“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.”

Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile.

“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”

“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.”

“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.”

“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.”

To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.”

“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.”

Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?”

You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”

And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him.

Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable.

Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then…

Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.

But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise.

Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?”

Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here.

“Never better.”

“That one nearly got me,” Luke said.

Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people.

“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said.

Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?”

He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.”

He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.”

Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night.

He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity.

“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”

Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?”

He shrugged. What was he supposed to say?

“I’m curious,” he decided.

Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…

Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her.

“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked.

“And how it killed the cat?”

He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.”

“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.”

Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.”

“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Who’s her parent?”

Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting.

“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.”

Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved.

He had a sister?

“I have a sister?”

“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.”

A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her.

He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young.

Gods.

“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?”

Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.”

One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry.

“How did you meet her?”

“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”

Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school.

“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly.

Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.”

Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”

“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”

Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance.

“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.”

The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about.

Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.”

Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.”

Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes.

He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy.

“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?”

“Like the world’s about to end,” he said.

Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.”

“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.”

“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.”

Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself.

“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”

Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?”

“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.”

Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”

Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.”

He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off.

“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.”

“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.”

Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.”

Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.”

He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?”

Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.”

Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.

“A happier part, then,” he suggested.

“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.”

In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front.

A letter.

“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.”

Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took.

So he took the letter when Luke offered it.

To the one and only Luke Castellan,

My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.

I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash.

Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this.

But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is.

Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost.

I can’t wait to see you again.

Your hurricane.

It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry.

Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her.

“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.”

Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it.

“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.”

“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”

Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.”

I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke.

“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”

Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.”

He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her.

Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to.

“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…”

Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming.

“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.”

He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”

“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”

Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father.

“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.”

After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck.

Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along.

Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?”

“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.”

“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.”

They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again.

“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.”

“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.”

Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?”

“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.”

Annabeth went silent.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.”

“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.”

“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.”

Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.”

That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push.

“How did you meet her?” he asked.

Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”

For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think.

It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.

The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical.

She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it.

But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind?

Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia—

Where was Thalia?

Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age.

Thalia—

“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.”

“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else.

Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair.

“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?”

Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?

You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids.

“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!”

“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—”

“Annabeth!”

Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt.

“Luke, you’re hurt—”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.”

“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—”

Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words.

When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years.

“Luke?” you whispered.

Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead—

“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?”

“My friends—”

“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.”

Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.”

So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading.

She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever.

The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought.

You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.

You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep.

Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.

You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.

A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock.

“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert.

Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it.

“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story.

You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?”

Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”

You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.”

He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets.

“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?”

“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.”

“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff.

“You know what I mean.”

Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them.

“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?”

“The usual,” you mumbled.

“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked.

You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.”

“The worst sense of dread imaginable?”

“Bullseye.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.”

“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.”

“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.”

Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” you murmured.

You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh.

That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke.

“Can you stay?” you asked softly.

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

“Just like old times,” you whispered.

“Just like old times,” he agreed.

Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke.

There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it.

How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead?

Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough.

“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

And by the gods, you believed him.

#reader is the mara of she ra the mikey berzatto of the bear the nellie crain of hill house DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #sadie writes

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hanrinz · 2 years ago

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OMFG I ATE ALL THE TAGS WTF okay so omg ooc reo??????? WTF IS THAT ????? HE FITS SO PERFECTLY ZAINA !!! im gonna combust from this OMG RAHHHHHHHHHHHH i love it so much omg

#ficrecs ← i need this to be documented in my faves fr i ate all the tags omg😭 tumblr add more this is not enough for me!!!!!!!

"you look unwell."

"do i?" your tone betrayed your disinterest. it was very evident to those around you that you were bored. so utterly bored, you couldn't bear being in that place; but your conversing partner did not seem bright enough to pick that up.

"yes, worse than usual."

"than usual?" you didn't care for what others had to say about you. you had grown quite desensitised to the endless talks and endless gossip that encircled you, but there was a limit to your patience. you were no saint. however, the unusual circumstance you were in proved helpful, in the sense that, it was allowing you to leave the conversation justifiably.

"forgive me, i did not mean..." he trailed off, he had finally caught on, he had overstepped.

"you did not mean to speak your mind?" you let out a false laugh, hoping it would give you enough leeway to escape the horrible situation you were engaged in. "it is all well. but i must take my leave. my lord." you thanked the heavens he did not stop you or try to apologise. maybe you ought to thank him for his ‘services’.

making your way closer to the entrance you heard the sound of carriage wheels clattering against the cobblestone streets as guests said their goodbyes and farewells. the night was coming to a close; the warm glow of the chandeliers reflected off the gilded mirrors and the polished floors of the ballroom, while the soft strains of the orchestra's instruments filled the air; it was all hideous and horrible, you could not think of anything but how to get away from it all.

"young lady, where are you going?" turning around you half expected to see a mouse with how squeaky the voice speaking to you was, but there stood a boy standing (half-confidently) in the doorway. why was he calling you young? if anything, you looked older than him.

"just a quick promenade in the garden." you hoped that would’ve been enough to leave you alone, but he seemed displeased with your answer, so you added, "would you like to join me?"

"unchaperoned?!" he looked offended to have even been asked to join you. maybe you should've been offended too?

"it shall not be unchaperoned cousin!" now this was a confident voice. a young man (really, this time) walked up to the boy from behind and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"re—"

"pleasure to meet you lady..." he interrupted. his pitch rose at the end of the sentence; it was a question.

"y/n, l/n. and you are?"

"lady y/n l/n, it is lovely to meet you. great people, the l/n's, lovely family, lovely people—"

the empty chatter was beginning to bother you.

"i would like to know who i will be walking with.".

"aren't you demanding? my lady." he teased. his hand still on the boy’s shoulder, pulling them both towards you.

"forget it." you turned on your heel aggressively and headed towards the looming dark green garden, lit up solely with the flickering fireflies. it almost perfectly reflected the starry night overhead, the turbulent purple clouds and shooting stars falling gently behind them. it was a shame the night was being missed by all the people wasting their time indoors. at least you had been left alone for once—

the young man ran up in front of you and bowed, before giving you his hand. a gleaming smile graced his lips and he seemed quite pleased with himself, like a child figuring out how to do something mundane (to others that is, children often find the silliest things extraordinary) on their own.

"i shall not accept it until you tell me your name."

he sighed in defeat, but he never wiped the stupid smile off his face. again he nodded in a half-bow. "am i allowed to follow you?"

"you can do as you please." you weren't just pretending to be indifferent, you truly didn't care what he did. the idea that you might be trapped into a marriage with the young man if you were caught with him alone had crossed your mind at some point but wouldn't that just mean you could step away from the 'marriage mart’. he seemed smart enough to hold a conversation, and he did seem to possess some aesthetic qualities. all wasn't bad.

"coz! join us!" he yelled as he trailed behind you, like an excited puppy. and the boy obliged. he looked scared, as if his cousin would hurt him if he did not follow through.

"so, my lady, how are you enjoying the night?" he once again offered his hand as you both stood awaiting his cousin to join you.

pushing past his gloved hand and raising your skirt ever so slightly (so as not to ruin it in the garden) you replied, "i have participated in better balls."

"it saddens me to hear that." holding his hands behind his back he stepped closer to you. faking a hurt frown. you raised a brow inquisitively. why was this man so invested in a ball he had not organised? and why was he not telling you his name?

"this is the prince's ball, why should it bother you?"

"you're quite correct. it should not bother me." he chuckled. "coz, what did you think of the ball?"

"you—" a stern look from the mysterious, nameless, young man and the boy corrected himself all too quickly, "the prince must have worked painstakingly for days, it was very well organised, the orchestra was lovely and—"

"enough about the ball!" you said, far too angrily.

"was it really that tiresome?" this time the enigma sounded genuine.

"please, do ask me why i left the ball." you said through gritted teeth.

"why did you leave the ball so early, my lady?" he leaned forward casually and looked you in the eyes, as if deeply interested in what you had to say. you were taken aback– this was a first. you had supposed that he, too, was just as disinterested as you were, and that all the conversing was just a formality. perhaps you were mistaken.

"to be left alone, to get away from the incessant questions about my marriage, about a courtship. is that really all a lady is worth? i truly believe that women are much more interesting than men shall ever be; so why should we withstand the boring, meaningless questions?"

"i don't—"

"please, my lord, do not say a word."

the rest of the walk was quiet. you could almost hear the grass snapping under your weight from how silent everyone was. this was what you had wanted, yet it felt claustrophobic and uncomfortable. by the time you had done the round of the garden and seen all that it offered, the cool air had started prickling your skin. you were sure the man had noticed the goosebump on your exposed arms, neck and back but he seemed to be trying not to invade your personal space again.

a second time approaching the excessive abode you watched a mass of people emerge from the front door and head towards their horse-drawn carriages, with footmen, drivers, and all. that was who you were, the daughter of a duke, rich and privileged. your duty was to secure as advantageous a match as possible, but everything related to that prospect infuriated you. it was a strange feeling, being so aware of who you were supposed to be, yet not wanting to be them. it was a constant battle, and neither side felt truly right.

a man wearing a very tall hat had approached, distracting you from your thoughts. he bowed grandly, taking his hat off before turning sideways and stretching his arm out to point to the buildings, “your royal highness, the archduchess requested your presence.”

the mysterious man nodded his head once and started towards the indicated location.

"you're prince reo mikage?" you called after him. suddenly it all made a bit more sense. not that it wasn’t still a confusing situation. but all the interruptions and stern looks could now be pieced together. your exasperated voice made him turn around at once. it seemed he had found a reason to stay.

"i suppose." he chucked, "but please, call me reo."

"no..." you weren't sure where this crazy sense of daring was coming from. you hadn't even bowed and apologised for your rudeness yet, in fact, here you were denying a simple request. a prince was not the sort of person with whom one ought to trifle.

"no?"

"it would be rude to call a prince by their name without also using their title." you noted primly, he seemed to take this into account for a second before replying, eyes sparkling with bold intent.

"would it be rude to use my name if we were, say, courting?"

"we are not courting."

"but it remains a possibility, my lady?"

you caught an audacious gleam in his eyes and you felt a final breath leave your mouth. you parted your lips ready to say something, but not a single word was spoken. there was nothing but air, and even that seemed in short supply.

“the archduchess does not like to wait, your royal highness.”

“yes, i must be on my way, my lady.” he muttered distractedly, turning back to bid you farewell, “i shall call on you soon.” he nodded again and left.

and there you stood, foolishly, under the moonlight, listening once more to the carriage wheels clattering against the cobblestone streets as guests said their goodbyes and farewells, the night had finally come to a close, truly this time.

you walked aimlessly towards the carriage your mother was standing beside. she looked distraught and anxious, betraying her worry at your absence. you weren’t completely sure what had happened that night and you were dreading seeing reo again, (prince reo, you corrected yourself), unsure of his intentions towards you. deep down you knew you weren’t special enough to capture the interest of a prince in just one night, so was he coming to reprimand your rudeness? you shouldn’t have spoken as much as you did...

however, as the morning drew in, it permeated the night and conquered all the fear and trepidation you had harboured as you slept. you were ready to face all the consequences of your actions and you were ready to protect your family. as you read in the sitting room this fearlessness only heightened. there was no way you would let a young man such as himself, prince or not, shame you and your family. you were prepared to do whatever it took.

“why are you up so early?” the voice of your mother interrupted your thoughts, “after all the sighing and eyerolls from last night, you must be exhausted!”

“i find myself full of energy all of a sudden...” and before she could reply or register what you had just said you quickly added, “i would like to meet the prince.”

“sorry darling, what was that?”

“mother, i would like to meet the prince.” you repeated, this time with more conviction, “to thank him for such an eventful evening, truly one of the best soirees i have ever attended.”

“although i’m sure the prince would appreciate such a sentiment,” she said hesitantly, “i doubt the daughter of a duke could simply call upon a grand prince. there are certain rules one must follow, especially regarding royalty.”

“then, what must i do to secure a meeting?”

she looked around, confused, before prodding you with, “i’m not quite sure myself dear, but may i ask why you wish to meet the prince?”

“i want to give him my thanks.”

she sighed deeply before plotting herself next to you on the sofa. “this is so unlike you dearest. what is it really?”

uncrossing your legs, you swung round to face her fully, “mother, truly, i simply want to–”

before you could finish, the door to the sitting room blasted open, and your butler rushed in, his face burning red and his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “your grace, the prince’s carriage has arrived.”

“so soon?” you murmured, feeling a sudden wave of nerves wash over you. it had hardly been a day and he was here already. all that confidence you had been building up seemed to have vanished as soon as the news of his arrival reached you.

“has this anything to do with your request earlier, darling?” your mother whispered, shooting you a worried glance.

“i don’t think so...” you feigned innocence as she looked at you dubiously raising a brow. nevertheless, she had no time to waste on the matter, immediately taking the now sweating butler to the foyer to greet the royal guest.

you suddenly became very aware of just how unprepared you were for a visit from royalty. you weren’t wearing anything spectacular, and you hadn’t even done your hair yet. you weren’t a mess per se, but were far from ready to attend a royal meeting. but you really had no time to think as your mother entered the room once again, her disposition now distracted and anxious.

“y/n, the prince wishes to meet you in the garden.”

“in the garden?”

“yes. if you know anything about this, please tell me now. i am worried for you.”

“i shall tell you everything soon.”

“y/n!” your mother exclaimed, but you had already ran out of the sitting room, flinging your book onto a nearby sofa and pulling on the gloves she had just taken off.

upon opening the doors to the garden, you saw the same figure you had walked with the previous night. as he turned he flashed you a charming smile, you felt a flutter in your stomach and a warmth build up in your cheeks. part of you was pleased to see him there, but only a part.

“we should marry.” he walked up to you, offering a hand. had he not grown tired of your refusals? you couldn’t help but pity his persistence, and that was the only reason you accepted it. it was warm and sturdy; he must be an adept dancer, you thought to yourself; of course, he was a prince.

“is this how you greet every lady you call on?”

he chuckled while placing your hand on his elbow and guiding you towards the fountain that stood in the centre of the garden. “only the ones i wish to marry, my—”

there you were, interrupting him again. was this your punishment? and if it were, why were you digging a greater grave for yourself rather than just accepting defeat? wouldn’t this be easier on your family?

“i barely know you, your highness.” you protested.

“does my reputation not precede me?”

“i have no interest in gossip, so i know nothing of your reputation, your highness.”

“you shall if we marry.” he continued, as if all your concerns meant nothing to him. they probably didn’t. princes are not accustomed to the word ‘no’.

“you are quite literally the last person i intend to marry, your highness.”

his mouth fell open mockingly as he gave you a rueful look, “you would rather marry my cousin?”

“your high—" you began, but he interrupted. it would be a miracle if the two of you could ever finish your sentences in each other's presence.

“if you are so keen on calling me by my title perhaps ‘my prince’ would be better suited.”

“it would be inappropriate, methinks.”

“and methinks, the lady doth protest too much.” he quipped.

“reciting hamlet shall not woo me, sir.” you retorted, trying your hardest to appear displeased and disinterested.

“then what must i do to secure your heart, my royal highness?”

“i am no princess.”

“you will be if you answer my question, my lady.” he stopped abruptly to look at your face fully. you noticed things about him you had not seen before. his strong yet gentle eyes, the way his hair fluttered slightly in the light zephyr like feathers of doves, and how he always seemed to be charmed.

he was vaguely amusing, vaguely annoying, vaguely vexing, but you couldn’t quite help but admire his wit. what you didn’t admire so much was his persistence and his refusal to take ‘no’ for an answer.

“why me?” you asked finally after what felt like a century of just staring at each other.

“because you fascinate me.” he replied simply, as if that were the most obvious fact in the universe.

you suddenly felt very annoyed, and you didn’t shy away from showing it. you scoffed loudly before replying. “anything can be fascinating, if one is curious enough.”

“you truly are wise beyond your years.” you were wrong. he wasn’t always charmed, in fact in this very instant his smile dropped, and he gave you a grave gaze.

you looked at him for a long moment, feeling unaccountably stung. he seemed to notice the discomfort but said nothing and the two of you stood there staring into each other’s eyes.

“i should take my leave.” he bowed slightly; it was different from the sorts of bows you had received from him. they felt hurt in a way. “your presence has truly brightened my morning, my lady.” his tone did not indicate anything of the sort, it had turned monotonous and distant, and you found yourself longing for his animated self once more.

“so, are we to marry, your highness?” you tried asking. you hated how you sounded so desperate, you hated how you had admitted defeat and you hated how he was leaving, again. why were you calling for him as he left, again? could there ever be a time where he wouldn’t leave.

“not yet.” he said modestly before departing.

days turned into what felt like an eternity as you struggled to despise him with every fibre of your being. and you really did struggle. he was dragging your chastisement for far too long; how cruel it was for him to toy with you like this. you were not his prey to play with before he devoured you. but as much as you tried to resist him, you couldn’t help the way your heart ached when he was gone. it was foolish; you had known each other for barely enough time for him to have such an impact on you. but there was no doubt, you missed him terribly.

your mother, too, had grown tired of asking you about his abrupt visit after more than a week had passed. but your attachment to him only grew stronger.. it was absurd to miss someone who tormented and vexed you. but you supposed you had always been a rather peculiar person.

“dearest, another ball? are you positive?”

a whole month had passed since the incident. very well, it was probably no more than four days, but it felt like months. every second felt like eternity without him. you had attended every ball there was to attend in the past days, days, and nights. yet any time you tried to approach him, you felt like a fool. why willinging walk into a trap of a marriage? what was wrong with your head? no, your heart, what was wrong with your heart?

you were sure this ball would be like every other. some schubert, or mozart if you were lucky, assaulting your ears. women flocking around your prince and him not even sparing you a glance. you wished to be alone in the garden again, just with him this time. you weren’t certain what you wanted to do, you weren’t certain how you would even reach such a circumstance and, you weren’t certain you wanted to listen to your heart at that exact moment.

“no, i’m not, mother.”

“what is it dear?” you could barely make out her voice anymore, the darkness of the night outside was pressing in around you and you felt yourself begin to cry.

your lower lip quivered as you chose your next words very carefully, you did not wish to speak your feelings into existence, and you surely didn’t wish to let your mother know about your affections. “my head hurts, i think the scratchy music from last night has taken a toll on me.” you coveted the energy to add a fake chuckle to that, but you did not have any left. so you looked at her, eyes dead and mouth smiling. it seemed to have worked, she gave you a sad, pitiful look, said some sweet words and left.

you soon heard your tears begin to drip from your eyes. it was a soft, gentle sound, like the fluttering of a bird’s wings, but it echoed through the silence of the room like a thunderclap. you missed him so much it hurt, it was a dull ache that settled deep within your chest and refused to be ignored.

you stopped. you had to. you heard a loud crash echo through the room as it came from the balcony. you spun around, heart pounding, only to see a flower pot had toppled over and shattered on the ground. just great, you couldn’t simply be left to cry, you had to be killed as well.

your nerves on edge, you cautiously treaded towards the balcony, sensing the chill of the night air on your skin, and the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end. peering over the stone guardrail you saw a familiar man frantically pacing in a circle. why was he here?

“my lady—” he yelled. when the moonbeams lit up his face you saw the state he was in. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. his cravat was almost entirely undone and his eyes were wild.

as soon as you heard him you charged off, without a second thought. your fingers grasped onto the walls as you ran down flights of stairs, your mind growing dizzier and lighter with every step. as you reached the bottom, you caught sight of him through a nearby window, approaching with a frenzied haste.

with a burst of energy, you pushed open the massive doors and stepped into the crisp night air, coming face to face with the prince. both of you were out of breath, your faces flushed and minds blanking in the presence of each other.

“my—”

“what do you think you’re doing here?” you asked sharply. in truth you didn’t want to know at all, you were just glad, grateful, honoured, to see him again. and so close.

he took a deep breath, steeling himself for the vulnerability of the moment, “can we walk?”

you nodded, feeling your hand enveloped by his warm, slightly rough, ungloved skin, as if he had been out without his gloves. you felt yourself melting into him, and dear god, it was just his hand, but you could feel yourself moulding into him so easily.

“what is it, reo?” you asked softly, turning to face him. the concern etched on his face did not go unnoticed.

in a voice tinged with worry he said, “you look unwell.”

“i am unwell.”

“i’m sorry.” he replied quietly. and he really was sorry. he wished he could be there for you, but he had grown hyper aware of how uncomfortable he made you feel.

“if you were really sorry you wouldn’t have stayed away for so long.” your usual unreadable expression had contorted into a pained and depressed one.

“i cannot stand to be away from you, you are my very life, and every separation gives such endless heartache...yet, i cannot force someone who doesn’t wish to see me to feel what i feel.” he admitted, his voice heavy and hoarse with sorrow.

“i do not wish to see you?” you repeated, heart murky with confusion.

“do you not, not wish to see me?” he asked, his gaze intense as he searched your face for any sign of affirmation. you opened your mouth to offer the prince a scathing retort–why was he being so secretive? you hated him. but then, just when you were ready to sharpen your wit, something else popped out of your mouth instead.

“i want nobody but you for my lover, and my friend; and to nobody but you shall i be faithful.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could even think to stop them. the air around you seemed to crackle with energy as you met his gaze, your heart struck in your chest. you felt strange, queer, almost as if you were somehow suspended in time, ready to lift off your toes and float away.

you weren’t sure when it happened. it hadn’t been sudden and clear in an instant. you weren’t even aware you loved this man until it had crept up on you and your own words professing your love for him divulged the information.

for a moment, he just stood there, staring at you, as if trying to process the weight of your words. but then he smiled; most annoyingly, most beautifully. and without warning, he stepped forward, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck pulling you closer to him. his lips found yours, and he was none of the things one should be the first time. he wasn’t gentle, and he wasn’t sweet. he just kissed you, intently. with everything he had, with every ounce of desperation coursing through his veins.

as he pulled away, his lips found your ear, and you felt more than you heard, “i missed you.”

you wanted to say that you’d missed him, too, but he was too close, and you were too warm, and your voice escaped you. good heavens, did every woman have this much trouble breathing when standing so close to a handsome man? it was no matter though, he was soon kissing you again; you had no space left in your mind to think of something so silly as breathing.

#OMFG ZAINA- WTF ??????????????!!????????#ILY OMG OMGOMGOMGIOKGGHN #OKAY HOLY SHIT #the longing????? omg and how they miss each other wtf #reader is so strong 😕 i would've kiss reo if i first saw him #CMERE YOU #LET ME GUVE U A KITH REO COME HERE AND LET ME GRAB YOUR FACE ANS KISS YOU RAHHHGHHGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #PRINCE REO sobs SIR PLEASE LOCK ME AWAY AND MARRY ME #GOOD LAWDDDDD #ZAINA.#'your presence has truly brightened my morning my lady'#it had turned monotonous and distant and you find yourself longing for his animated self once more #OMFG REO COME BACK IM SO SORRY DON'T GO RAGGGGFSHHGVH PLS I NEED HIM SO BAD DON'T BE SAD REO OMGG #when he when he when he when when when .... he calls you 'my lady' I DIED PLEASE CALL ME ANYTHING AND I WOULD ALWAYS ANSWER REO #I WOULD SAY YES IN A HEARBEAT PLS JUST GIVE ME YOUR HANDS REO AND I'LL TAKE U TO THE ALTAR #reo mikage x reader #blue lock x reader #IT'S SO HIM OMG HE FITS THE ROYALTY AU SM OMG OMFGGGDBB #'i cannot force someone to who doesn't wish to see me to feel what i feel' YOU DON'T NEED TO ILYSM REO I WOULD DO ANYTHING PLEASE #WHY DOES TJIS HURTS WTF ZAINA #THE DESPERATION OMG reader is so me pls🙁🙁#'but then he smiled; the most annoyingly most beautifully.' HE'S SO CUTE HE'S SO PRETTY OMG OMG OMG I CANT DO THIS TODAY PLD #'and without a warning he stepped forward his hand find its way to the back of your neck pulling you closer to him. his lips found yours.'#↑ OMFG KISS ME MORE OMGOMGOMG HWGWGWDFWHWVWEWWEEW IM GOING INSANE FOR THIS MAN #please have mercy i literally can't do this today #'as he pulled away his lops found your ear and you felt more than you heard 'i missed you' OMFG I MISSED YOU TOO REO OMG TAKE ME TAKE ME !!#'you had no space left in your mind to think of something so silly as breathing' IM GONNA CRY I WANT HIM TO BE REAL SO BAD RN #I CAN JUST DROWN IN HIM NO REO NO AIR !!!!!!#zaina zaina zaina omfg i love this sm please please please i wann kiss your brain so bad and your mind and your fingers omg #ZAINA THE WAY U WRITE OMFG🥹🥹 PLEASE FEED US MORE OMG GOD IVE NEVER EATEN THIS GOOD WTF

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divinesolas · 3 months ago

Text

SOAKED !

monsterfuckertober day 1

summary: you’ve fallen in love with your local merman but he hasn’t come to visit you in a few days. You think maybe he’s grown tired of you but it seems to be quite the opposite. and who knew mermen have mating seasons?

merman!jacaerys x fem!reader

w.c: 1.3k

c.w: mermaid sex. oral (fem), scales, webbed fingers, heat?, kinda girl perv reader, desperate jace, p in v, not proofread. basically just smut btw

monsterfuckertober masterlist

The sea has become a friend to you. With your head resting against the cold rock, you are out at the shining blue sea expectantly. waiting for him. the water crashes lightly against your bare skin the swimsuit you’re wear leads you to shiver every time theres a light breeze but you don't mind it as your hands shake, he should be here soon.

If someone had asked you a couple months ago if you had thought mermaids were real you would have laughed in there face but here you were. sitting on the wet sand waiting for your own merman to show up. not being a strong swimmer seems to have its pros, as after your family moved out to a beach side property you decided to late a late night dip, making sure not to go too deep but the waves were against you and you were pushed way too far in. he saved you from drowning, the cute brown haired boy with hazel eyes and a big smile.

He told you his name was jacaerys but to just call him jace. A strange name to you but it seems merpeople have a very different culture. Hes not supposed to make friends with humans but he claims he feels a ‘pull’ towards you and cant stay away, confused at the blush that grows on your face at his words.

You like him. A lot. far too much even. Far far too much your hands dip where they shouldn't when you think about him. How would it even work between you two? He certainly doesn't like you as you like him, hes just a friendly merman. His fingers are webbed would they feel strange,,, Does he even have a-

You shake your head quickly cutting off that train of thought as you feel a familiar ache build up in your stomach and you wiggle a little where you sit.

You feel yourself growing more hot and bothered maybe you should just leave. You dont even know if he’ll show he hasnt been here for the last three days. it wasnt like him to miss a meeting without warning, like when he went on that hunting trip with his friends but he made sure to warn you before hand he wouldn't be able to see you. You’ll never forget the sad pout on his face and how his webbed hand gripped your thigh in a parting goodbye before he left. your fingers definitely hurt that night.

maybe you made him up and he was just a figment of your imagination. should you schedule a doctors appointment? When another ten minutes go by and he still doesn't show up you let out a frustrated huff and stand up to leave. suddenly you hear rushing water and whip your head back to look at the familiar tail that peaks out from the water ever so slightly and your eyes widen.

When he appears his face is bright red, a heavy blush set on his face as he takes a deep breath of the air and he shudders. you sit on your knees in front of his as he keeps his eyes closed as if he was afraid to look at him, frowning when he flinched as you try and touch his face. “jace?”

in response he lays face first on your thighs and continues to take a deep breaths taking in your scent. You allow him too, knowing he’ll tell you what happened once he can but you can help but feel embarrassed when he seems like hes taking heavy sniffs of your pussy. you feel like you’re making it up, probably just too turned on but when he readjusts his head to be directly over the thin cloth and lets out a pleased noise along with another deep breath you realize you’re not making it up.

When you grab his face, his face contorts into embarrassment as he tried to pull away but you keep him firmly infront of you. “im sorry im sorry im not myself im so sorry.” You shush him, murmuring that its alright but its hard to take him seriously when it seems like hes even drooling but its hard to tell as he always looks so wet.

His hand comes up to touch your thigh and your breath stalls. His eyes glow in the sun as he maintains his eye contact with you despite the clear red sheen of embarrassment and desire on his face. “im sorry i have not seen you. ive been trying to stay away so this wouldn't happen im so stupid. im sorry.” Hes not telling you something you can tell, he looks down at your lap at you awaiting stare. “it is mating season. And,,, i crave you. i did not want to see you i knew i would act out of line. Forgive me but i rushed over because i could smell you in the air. your scent,” he paused as he takes another deep breath. “i need you.”

He leans heavily into your palm. Pressing a light kiss against your skin, when you don’t answer he continues to pepper your wrist with kisses. The only thing you can think about right now is him. His pupils are blown out, his skin down to his neck is red with a flustered glow, his lips plump eager for you to lay yours on them. “are you sure?” he eager nods at your words, eagerly scooting closer to you the best of his ability, his tail eagerly flapping in the water.

He’s eager to press himself against you when you press your lips against his. Grabbing your hips and dragging you closer to the water so he can scoot closer to the water and press his head comfortably between your thighs. He eagerly licks at you through the think fabric of your bottoms, putting the fabric in his mouth and tightly sucking on it, attempting to drink out every drop he can get. His hands claw at your hips you can feel the scales on his palm rub against your bare hips as they drag down the fabric, he lets out a light groan before he tears at the fabric and dives in.

Your hands get lost in his curls while he eagerly laps at your essence. Its hard to hear the sound of him slurping at your walls over the sounds of the crashing waves but what you can hear and feel his him groaning and moaning against you sending shivers of pleasure up your spine.

The grip he has on your thighs is sure to leave a couple bruises but you cant seem to care as he simply continues to open you up wider and drinks up every drop you push out. You must orgasm atleast two or even three times before he finally pulls away from you and drags you further into the way. You’re as far out as you can go in the water while still laying down and he presses himself fully ontop of you. his scales rub against your skin and he eagerly rips at the fabric of your too, wrapping his lios eagerly around your nipples.

Your legs wrap around his waist as your bare dripping cunt rubs against his course scales and he whines in delight. you can feel his scales part and his dick is suddenly rubbing against your folds. its heavy and it throbs against as if it had been waiting for you eagerly. he shoved his lips against you as he slides into you, the stretch burns as hes far bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with but once you settle into it *you’re see stars.*

His lips eagerly dance all over your neck and jaw as your head is thrown back in pleasure, breathy sounds escaping you as you try your best to not be too loud, hips rocking together just as the waves are crashing against the shore.

you hope theres no other creature out there in the big wide ocean because they would certainly be getting a show as you’re laying by the show singing until sundown. or maybe you do.

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n1ght0f-nyx · 4 months ago

Note

Hihi!

I just read your rules, so I hope this request follows them:

Could I request an leviathan!merman x fem reader? I'm not super picky about the details of his appearance, so you can have fun with that.

I'm thinking, maybe, reader is prisoner on a pirate ship and leviathan!merman attacks and sinks the ship because it constantly disturbs the water of his territory. He finds reader, realizes he almost killed an innocent captive, and shenanigans ensue from there. He takes her home with him to take care of her while she recovers from the imprisionment/his attack since it's too far to safely take her back to shore, much less a shore she knows. His underwater cave has an airpocket/above-sea level entrance as well as the main entrance; how lucky and convenient, amirite?😅

Maybe he's slightly awkward and it makes him seem detached and scary...

I'm hoping for fluffy with a smidgen of spice or smut at the end?

Thank you in advance if you decide to write this!🫶

holy shit this was insane i love you

merman x fem! reader fluff and smut

warnings/tags- short smut peice at the end, fem reader, monster x human, mentions of imprisonment, i gave him a name at the end

word count- 3727 words (im tired)

The salt-laden air was suffocating. The relentless waves rocked the creaking pirate ship as it cut through the waters, a prison you couldn't escape. Days had passed since your capture, and you were bruised, sore, and tired from the confinement. The crew barely acknowledged your existence beyond the scraps of food they tossed your way. They were focused on something else, something beyond the horizon that kept them nervous and on edge.

One of the older pirates muttered about a sea demon—a creature that hunted ships around these waters. You thought it was nothing more than sailors’ superstition, but as the air turned heavy and the sea became unnaturally still, an eerie sensation crawled down your spine. The crew became frantic. Eyes darted toward the water, watching for something. You couldn’t tell what.

It happened fast. The once-still water erupted into chaos, and the ship shuddered violently as if something enormous had collided with it. Men screamed weapons were drawn, but none of it mattered. The sea itself had risen against them. Waves higher than any you'd ever seen crashed down, tearing the ship apart. You were thrown across the deck, striking the mast hard, the air rushing out of your lungs as darkness claimed you.

---

When you awoke, the world felt different. The coldness of the water had soaked through every part of you, the sensation both numbing and alarming. You blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings, but nothing made sense. The sea still roared, but you weren’t drowning.

You were… floating? Treading?

Something—or someone—had you in its grasp. Panic surged through you, and you tried to twist away, only for the grip around you to tighten, keeping you still. Then you felt it—scales. The slick, cool texture brushed against your skin as a powerful tail swam you through the water with ease. You struggled, coughing up saltwater, your limbs heavy and useless.

A voice, deep and foreign, hummed in the water. “Don’t… fight.” The words were broken but clearer than you expected. You tried to crane your neck, to see what held you, but before you could make sense of the situation, you were lifted above the water.

The night sky greeted you once more, stars shimmering against the black ocean. But it wasn’t the stars that took your breath away. As your vision focused, you were pulled into the shallow confines of a cavern. Rock formations loomed above, sharp and jagged, and the faint glow of bioluminescent algae clung to the cave walls, casting an ethereal light across the scene.

Then you saw him.

The creature holding you was enormous. His upper body was humanoid but covered in dewy scales, glistening under the faint light. His skin was a mix, inky gunmetal grey and Cerulean blue, blending with the shadows and the sea. The scales grew rougher around his neck and joints, trailing down to the massive tail that curved behind him. His eyes, glowing with an eerie gold hue, met yours, unblinking and intense.

A sea-creature.

The pirate tales weren’t lies.

He moved carefully, setting you down on a small ledge that jutted out of the water inside the cave. You coughed again, your body shaking as the cold air hit your wet skin. For a moment, the creature just stared at you, his eyes scanning over your form with something you couldn’t place. Was it curiosity? Guilt? You weren’t sure, but it wasn’t the mindless aggression you'd expected from the stories.

"Pretty… girl," he whispered, the words hesitant as his voice echoed in the cavern.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear mixing with confusion. Why had he saved you? Had he been the one to destroy the ship? The silence between you stretched on, uncomfortable and thick. You opened your mouth to speak but hesitated, unsure if you wanted to know the answer to your questions.

He shifted awkwardly, his long tail curling into itself as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. The leviathan’s hands, large and clawed, flexed as he tried to mimic human gestures. He brought one to his chest as if trying to calm you. His voice was gruff and halting. “Hurt..?”

You swallowed, trying to find your voice. "I... I was a prisoner."

The leviathan frowned, his expression twisting as if he was processing your words. He pointed to himself. "I… destroy..Save you." he spoke blankly

Your mind reeled. He had attacked the ship. He had killed everyone on board—pirates, yes, but also human beings. And yet here he was, trying to help you. There was no malice in his expression, only an awkward uncertainty, like he wasn't used to interacting with anyone, let alone a human.

“I…” You stammered, feeling small under his gaze. “Why?”

His head tilted, brow furrowing. He seemed to struggle with the question, trying to find the words. "Innocent," he finally murmured. "No kill… innocent."

You wanted to believe him. But trust didn’t come easily when you’d just been ripped from one terrifying situation and thrown into another. “You killed them all,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

The leviathan’s eyes darkened, his tail thrashing slightly in the water, sending ripples across the surface. “They… disturbed…” His hand clenched into a fist before he loosened it again, trying to maintain his composure. “This… my home. They hurt… water. Hurt… sea.”

You blinked, processing his words. He was a protector of these waters, not a mindless monster. He had been defending his territory. The pirates had angered him and threatened his home. And in his attempt to drive them away, he had nearly taken you with them.

“I didn’t mean to be there,” you said, your voice softer now. “They captured me.”

He nodded slowly, his golden eyes never leaving yours. There was a strange kind of innocence to him despite his monstrous appearance, like he was trying to understand, trying to make sense of the situation as much as you were. “I… care for you. You are safe… here.”

You looked around the cave, the glow from the algae creating an otherworldly atmosphere. The air pocket allowed you to breathe, and while the water was cold, the rock beneath you was dry. For now, you were safe.

But how long would you be here? How far from the land were you? Your thoughts spiralled, and before you could stop yourself, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You were stranded in an underwater cave with a creature who had just destroyed an entire ship, and you had no idea what would happen next.

Seeing your distress, the leviathan made a low sound, a soft chirping noise that seemed almost out of place for something his size. He inched closer, his movements slow and deliberate as if trying not to scare you. “Safe… now,” he repeated, his voice almost a whisper.

Your body trembled, a mix of cold and exhaustion taking over, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. You were too weak to respond, and as your vision blurred, you caught a final glimpse of the leviathan’s concerned gaze.

“Rest,” he murmured, his deep voice the last thing you heard before the darkness took you once more.

---

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you awoke again. The cave was still, the water lapping gently at the edges of the rocks. Your body ached, but the sharp pains from earlier had dulled to a manageable throb. As you stirred, you noticed the leviathan watching you from the water, his upper body resting on the edge of the ledge.

“You… awake,” he said, a hint of relief in his tone.

You pushed yourself up slowly, wincing as your muscles protested. “Yeah,” you muttered, rubbing your forehead. “I’m awake.”

The leviathan studied you for a moment before shifting his weight and submerging partway into the water again. “No go… back to land,” he said, his voice low but clearer than before. “Too far. Too… dangerous.”

You frowned. “Then what do I do? Just… stay here?”

He looked almost embarrassed, his golden eyes darting away from yours. “For now. I… help. You stay safe.”

It wasn’t an ideal solution, but what choice did you have? You were miles from land, and even if you could swim back, there was no guarantee you’d survive the journey.

As the days passed, the initial fear that had consumed you began to ebb away, replaced by something you couldn’t quite define. The leviathan, whom you had come to think of simply as "him," seemed to be doing everything in his power to make you feel safe. Every day, he brought you food from the sea—fish, clams, seaweed—arranging it in neat little piles on the dry ledge of the cave where you rested. It wasn’t long before you stopped seeing him as a monster. He had saved you, after all. And there was a gentleness in his awkwardness, an effort to communicate that made you feel like you weren’t just some stranded victim in a strange land.

He never wandered too far, always returning with something new—a small collection of smooth stones, intricately shaped shells, and occasionally, bones that had been bleached by the ocean. He would lay them down carefully in front of you, watching for your reaction with bright, expectant eyes. At first, you didn’t think much of it. He was probably just offering you things he thought might interest a human, but you noticed that he always seemed delighted when you picked them up, inspecting each one closely.

You had begun making a habit of it—admiring the shells, thanking him for the smooth, polished stones. His face would light up in a way you’d never seen before, his golden eyes flashing with that strange, bioluminescent glow that was becoming more familiar to you.

And it wasn’t just his gifts. His body language had started to shift in subtle ways. When he emerged from the water, the faint freckles along his face and shoulders glowed softly, but when you spoke to him or even smiled in his direction, they would brighten, casting more light into the dim cave. At first, you assumed it was a natural response to his emotions—perhaps a way for his kind to communicate. But then came the sounds. He chirped. He hummed. He made these low, rumbling noises deep in his chest that reverberated through the cave walls.

It was strange—almost endearing.

One day, after he had brought you a particularly beautiful shell—spiralled and iridescent—you smiled at him, running your fingers over its smooth surface. “It’s beautiful,” you said softly. “Thank you.”

The leviathan’s face lit up, his freckles flaring into an almost blinding brightness as he chirped happily. You chuckled, placing the shell in the small pile of treasures you had started keeping at your side.

“Do you have a name?” you asked him, curious if he could understand more complex language. “I mean… what should I call you?”

He blinked, his head tilting slightly. “Name…?” His voice was still halting, but he was getting better, and more confident with his words. “No… name.”

“Hmm.” You bit your lip, thinking. “Maybe I’ll give you one, then.”

His eyes widened slightly, glowing with interest.

You tapped a finger against your chin, trying to come up with something that suited him. Something powerful, but also kind. “How about... Kai? It means sea in a few languages.”

“Kai…” he repeated as if testing the word. Then, his face broke into a small smile, the glowing freckles on his cheeks pulsing rhythmically. “Kai… like.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Good. Kai it is.”

The days continued like this, with him bringing you more gifts and making those strange chirping noises whenever you accepted them. Sometimes he would linger nearby, watching you with a strange intensity that should have been unnerving but wasn’t. It was almost… sweet.

One evening, after he had brought you a particularly smooth stone—a dark, deep blue colour—you held it up to the faint light. “You have quite the eye for pretty things,” you said teasingly, glancing at him. His golden eyes glinted, and he made that low, rumbling hum again, the sound resonating in your chest.

You didn’t know when it started to happen, but somewhere along the way, you had stopped seeing him as just a creature of the deep. There was a tenderness in him, a genuine care for your well-being that warmed you in ways you hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just keeping you alive. He was trying to make you happy. And it was working.

You caught yourself watching him more often—how his muscles shifted beneath his dark, glistening skin, how his tail curled and flicked in the water when he was excited, how his glowing freckles pulsed in response to your laughter. And when he brought you something new, when he chirped at you or hummed softly, it made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

---

Kai didn’t fully understand it at first, but something had changed between the two of you. He could feel it. Every time you smiled at him or touched the gifts he brought you, something warm and bright filled his chest. It was more than happiness. It was... connection.

He had been practising the small rituals of his kind for days now, bringing you things he knew you would like—rocks, shells, even bones from deep within the sea. He had hoped you would understand what he was doing, even if it wasn’t something humans were used to. And when you accepted his gifts, when you smiled at him and thanked him, he felt like he was glowing from within. You were accepting him.

The colours in his bioluminescent freckles had grown brighter each day, especially when you were near. He could feel his body reacting to you—flashing brighter, chirping louder, humming more frequently. He had started making these sounds almost unconsciously, his excitement and affection bubbling up every time he was near you.

And then there was the moment when you said his name. Kai. A human name, but it fits. You had given him something special, something to define himself beyond just a creature of the deep. He had felt it then—an overwhelming urge to be closer to you, to protect you, to make you his.

---

You hadn’t realised it until later, but you had unknowingly been accepting his courting rituals. The smooth rocks, the shells, the soft chirping sounds—all of it had been Kai’s way of showing affection, of trying to bond with you. And you had accepted it with open arms, without even realising the significance of what you were doing.

One night, as you sat by the water’s edge, Kai was closer than usual, his large body half-submerged in the water. His golden eyes were fixed on you, his freckles glowing softly. You noticed how close he was, and how his massive form took up most of the space in the cave. But instead of feeling intimidated, you felt… comforted.

He chirped softly, his tail flicking in the water. "You… like?” he asked, his English much clearer now.

You glanced down at the latest gift he had given you—a perfectly polished piece of coral—and smiled. “I do. Thank you, Kai.”

His glowing freckles flared again, and the rumbling sound in his chest grew louder, more persistent. He was... happy. You could feel it radiating from him.

Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm where the scales were smoothest. His body tensed momentarily, his eyes widening as he looked at where your hand rested. But then, he relaxed, a soft, pleased chirp escaping him.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you stopped seeing him as just a sea creature somewhere along the way. It was Kai. He was awkward and endearing, and despite your vast differences, he made you feel safe.

And as you looked into his glowing eyes, your heart beat faster in your chest. You had grown fond of him—maybe even more than fond.

Kai’s tail flicked in the water, and he shifted closer, his face just inches from yours. His freckles glowed brighter, casting the cave in a warm, ethereal light. “Pretty… girl,” he murmured, the words filled with a strange kind of awe.

You smiled, your hand still resting against his arm. "And you're not so bad yourself."

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the sound of the ocean filling the space between you. But something had changed. There was a new understanding, a new bond. You weren’t just surviving together. You were connected.

And from the way Kai’s eyes shone, you could tell he felt it too.

As the soft light from Kai’s freckles pulsed gently around you, you felt his large form shift beside you. Before you could react, he lowered his head, nuzzling it under your chin with surprising tenderness. His skin was cool and smooth, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, though not from fear. You hesitated, then let your hand drift to the back of his head, fingers tangling in the strange but silky strands of his dark hair.

A low, content hum rumbled from him, vibrating against your chest. He was close—closer than he’d ever been before. The warmth of his presence, the gentle weight of his nuzzle, made your heart race, and yet... it felt right.

“Have… pups,” Kai murmured, his voice halting but filled with sincerity. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as his words slowly registered. “My… pups.”

It was then that everything clicked into place. The gifts, the soft chirping, the glowing freckles, his constant presence. This wasn’t just him being kind. This was more. **He loved you.**

Your heart pounded in your chest as you pulled back slightly, looking down at him in stunned realization. His eyes, glowing softly, blinked up at you with that same innocence and intensity. He wasn’t just a protector—he saw you as his mate.

And somewhere deep inside, you realized that you didn’t mind the thought.

You stared down at Kai, your fingers still resting gently on his head as he gazed up at you, unaware of the weight of his words. His eyes were wide and expectant, as if waiting for your reaction. The warmth that had been building in your chest bloomed fully, but it was accompanied by a nervous flutter in your stomach.

"Pups," you whispered softly, your voice barely audible. The idea, once foreign and unthinkable, now seemed… less strange. It wasn’t just the word—it was the meaning behind it. The way Kai had said it, with such sincerity and hope, like he couldn’t imagine anything more important. The realization that this ancient, powerful being cared for you in ways you hadn’t even understood until now.

Kai’s tail flicked in the water, splashing lightly as he nuzzled you again, this time more insistently. “Yes… pups,” he repeated softly, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through you. He shifted even closer, his large frame curling around yours protectively. “You… mine.”

Your breath hitched at his declaration. The weight of what he was saying—what he felt—was starting to sink in. Kai wasn’t just offering you protection or companionship. He wanted more. He wanted to build a life with you, in whatever form that took. To him, it seemed so simple. But to you, the complexity of the situation was dizzying.

Could you feel the same way about him? Could you be with someone so vastly different, someone from a world so far removed from your own?

But as you looked into his eyes, glowing softly with that bioluminescent warmth, you realized that you already had. The time spent together in the cave, the strange courtship rituals, the quiet moments of connection—they had already won you over. You had grown attached to him, maybe even fallen in love without realizing it. And now, faced with his earnest desire, it was impossible to ignore.

“Kai,” you murmured, brushing your thumb gently over the side of his face. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

His head tilted, eyes blinking as though he didn’t quite understand why you would question it. “Mean… yes. You mine. We… together. Have… pups.”

You think for a few seconds “how…how would we..?”

His hand pushes against your thigh, twitching hard, which has your eyebrows pulling tight. You go pale when you look down. What you assumed to be his hand was something else completely, moving around against your thigh with a sticky sheen being rubbed on the skin of you hip like he’s grinding his double dicks against you. His tail is heavy enough to keep you in place under him, and his crawled hand is slid along your side while he purrs pathetically, looking up at you with sweet begging eyes “Oh, fuck,” you mouth, “oh fuck.” Trying to slip out from under him makes him let out a soft growl, mouth corners lifting to show his canines.

“I-i dont think i can take them..both” you gulp.

He doesn't seem to notice, all he desires is your affection, Kai brings his fingers up interlacing around your chin. Under the night sky, his body lights up, the shimmering blue lights on his skin and tail accentuating your own vulnerability. He offers you a smile, his deep brown eyes sparkling with longing in the soft glow of the moon. Your lips meet. You trace your fingers along his chest and stomach. A glimpse of his form emerges from his opening, and you can't help but smile as you circle his protruding tip. He sighs your name into your mouth, the sensation akin to the gentle ebb and flow of the sea against the rocks. Gradually, he slips his entire cock into your hands grasp, and you caress his length with gentle strokes. He recoils slightly, his head resting back, his scales reflecting the moon's light. Firmly holding you, he rolls you onto your stomach. You grin up at him, extending your hand to gently sweep away a few droplets from his face. He returns the smile. Leaning back, you spread your legs and clasp onto his hips, taking a deep breath as he positions himself for an intimate moment. Your moans fill the night as he fucks you with a rhythm reminiscent of the ocean's waves.

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gatorbites-imagines · 4 months ago

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Can you please make more Remy LeBeau content? I love that little Cajun man so much! Please and Thank you!

Remy LeBeau x male reader

Headcanons

I’ve had this plot idea for a while, so im gonna try to shake it out my system. I know very little about Cajun culture, European here, so take it with a grain of salt. Sorry for the lack of posting, classes have already been beating me up and I literally just started.

You were your average Cajun kid when you met Remy, back when he still ran with the thief’s guild and before he was adopted by Jean-Luc.

You were a bit of a stereotype when it came to New Orleans Cajun kids. You liked to cause trouble, you liked to party, you liked to hunt frogs at night and spearfish Gar when there were no frogs. And damn did you like messing with the gators. All your messing around did make you lose your pinky on your right hand, but it didn’t stop you.

You were no mutant, but you might as well have been with all the stuff you got into. You always claimed it was just your Cajun roots that kept you immortal.

That was how you met Remy, through all your troublemaking. Youd just shoved one of your friends bullies into the swamp near your neighborhood, and immediately legged it, knowing his brothers would feed you to the gators if they got the chance.

That’s how you end up running right into Remy, sending you both skittering across the ground. Before he could say anything though, you just grad his wrist with your four fingered hand and drag him along, cackling as the bullies’ brothers try and catch you.

The two of you end up in a completely different neighborhood, hiding under somebodies porch as you try not to snicker as the older boys run right past, cursing up a storm about the “gator bait” getting away. And yes, that was what people called you in your neighborhood, because of your hand.

Remy had expected you to immediately fear him or become disgusted at the sight of his eyes. But instead, you just told him they were cool as fuck and you wished your eyes were like that.

After hiding for a while, the two of you split up to go about your lives. But you end up bumping into each other quite a lot, since you both just like to wander. That’s how you two end up becoming friends, even as hes part of the thieves guild.

You end up dragging him to your house too where he meets your mother. Your dad wasn’t around anymore, he drowned when you were a baby, but your mom said you had his fire and lack of self-preservation.

To Remys shock, your mom didn’t mind his eyes either, just accepting him in with a kind but tired smile. He later learns your mom works two or three jobs depending on the season to keep you guys fed, which is why you have so much time to run around.

You two keep growing up together, even if there at times is distance for different reasons. You keep causing trouble, but get better at hiding it, you become real good at figuring out the area, the waters, the people and animals, so on and so forth.

This helps you get your first job as a guide for tourists. You don’t really like it, but they tip you pretty well. You use that money to take Remy out for sno-balls, or rather, its you going in to get them, so you guys can eat them on your backyard porch.

You both gained a lot of scars over the years from the different lives you lived. Youd never asked Remy about the guild, and he never really asked too much about the different scars on your arms and legs he was sure came from a knife and not fishing wire.

It was also on that porch you guys shared your first kiss. It was clumsy, uncomfortable, your lips stained blue as his were green, from the thick sugary syrups used on the sno-balls. But it was still the best kiss either of you could have imagined.

You two never got to explore too deeply what your relationship meant. one week Remy was more distant than usual, before he suddenly showed up at your place, looking worse to wear, telling you he needed to get out of New Orleans.

You weren’t gonna question him, so you packed him into your truck and just started driving. The entire time he clung to your hand, looking at you so intensely, like hed never see you again. But you tried to keep the mood light, joking as usual and playing your favorite music.

The goodbye was one of the hardest things in your lives. You even told Remy you’d leave him with, ready to leave it all behind to stay by his side, wherever he would go. But Remy knew you had a life here, you had your mom, a good job, other friends, he couldn’t ask that of you.

So, in the end, Remy simply kissed you goodbye, and said he hoped you two would meet again. And disappeared into the night, like something out of a dream.

A couple of hours passed before you decided to drive back home. You smoked through an entire pack of cigarettes, so tempted to also empty the bottle of alcohol you hid under the seat in your truck. But you also knew you needed to return to your mom.

So with one final longing glance in the direction Remy disappeared, you turned back around and drove back home, New Orleans feeling less vibrant and lively than usual.

It would be years before you two meet again, and even then, it had been an accident.

You had left New Orleans behind after Remy left, your mom passed away, and nothing really kept you there without either of them. It took a while before you finally settled down in New York. It wasn’t the same as where you grew up, but it was good enough for now. And if nothing worked, you could just go back to Louisiana and live in a small shed, where you’d spend your days catching fish.

What brought you together, was that your neighbors kid developed their mutation. Something they couldn’t hide, their eyes so different they couldn’t even use contacts as an excuse.

If their parents had been kind, hadn’t been so openly ex-mutant, you might not have done anything. But you’d heard rumors of Charles Xavier, and how his school helped Mutants like that.

So, you packed your neighbors kid into your truck, the same you’d driven Remy in, with what they needed to bring, and drove them there. Like the ride with Remy, you tried to keep the mood light, hoping to just keep it all from falling apart.

It took some time to get to the school, through whatever security they had, and to the front door. Part of you feared it was the wrong place, until the guy who’d spoken to you over the security comm stepped out. That visor made it pretty clear he wasn’t just your average joe.

Normally you’d have left it at that, leaving the kid with people who knew what they were talking about and doing. But they were too scared to be alone, and after some scowling from a guy that looked like a hairy homeless guy, you were allowed in.

Your thick accent seemed to gain some positive or funny reactions, that same hairy guy from before grumbling “another Cajun”. But you were mainly focused on getting the kid settled.

Of course, until you heard a familiar voice, laying his usual flirts on thick with somebody. Remy was still as handsome as when you last saw him, though a little older, but so were you. The kid was introduced to him, and the two already seemed to bond over their eyes being their main visual of their mutation.

“They reminded me of you, maybe that’s why I felt so protective” you just throw out there, hands in your pockets as you shrugged, your voice immediately catching Remy’s attention, who seemed as shocked to see you as you were him.

It was clear you two knew each other, and that emotional look in your eyes had the others shuffling off to keep showing the kid around, as you two were left alone.

You two go out back to sit on the porch of the mansion. It wasn’t the same as in New Orleans, but it still had your heart racing. It was awkward for a moment, you two sharing what you’d been up too since you last saw each other.

With you, Remy didn’t need to put on the plays like usual, he could just be Remy LeBeau and nobody else, and holding your hand with only four fingers in his own laid to rest some of the pain that had been present for years.

You two didn’t immediately start dating or anything. It was more returning to what was before, without all the stealing and trouble you two used to get into. At least, not to the same degree. But it built at a comfortable pace.

You became an honorary visitor of the mansion, since the kid you brought there still felt quite attached, but also for Remy. You were also able to worm your way into the hearts of the other x-men, some quicker than others, but you did it anyways.

Remy spent a lot of time at your place too, and he even helped you move when you moved just a bit closer to the x-men.

Neither of you could really tell when it went from deep pining to dating. One moment you guys just finally started kissing. The cuddling, sharing clothes and many other things that came with a relationship was something you already did, so the kissing was truly the last part missing.

You do end up having to learn better self-defense, being close to the x-men like that. But for Remy you’d do anything, even doing stretches that have your legs screaming since you aren’t used to bend like that.

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houseofripley · 10 months ago

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HEYY

Can you do a rhea x fem!reader story where rhea and reader are in Highschool and have both had feeling for eachother for the longest time and both haven’t confessed but all that changes because rhea ask reader to prom and they end up kissing and it leads to something else (ifykyk😏) (smut n a lil bit of fluff too🙏)

Starry Prom Night

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Scissoring, Praise, Cheek Cupping & Kissing Galore, INSANE PLOT BUILDING FOR NO REASON LOL SORRYYYYYY IM A YEARNER (im serious this is like 67% plot building)

WORD COUNT: 3,731

A/N: this is just pure sapphic yearning on my end LMAO anyways anon i had so much fun writing this even though its all over the place!!!

also can you tell where i got impatient with all the plot building lol

“Rhea, I seriously don’t know how many more of these cheesy signs I can’t take. I think I’m gonna go insane.” You grunted, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

Prom season was in full swing. It was third period and you had just witnessed what had to have been the seventh promposal of the day. This year would be the mark of your and your best friend, Rhea’s senior prom. Senior prom was a date thousands of dreamed about, wanting to show up and show out one last time before waving goodbye to their highschool years.

Every girl except you and Rhea. You both despised the thought of prom. Why would any sane person spend hundreds of dollars on an outfit just to spend their night drenched in sweat in the school gymnasium?

Fuck that!

“Romeo O Romeo! Will thou spend your Saturday night with I, drinking punch next to the locker rooms?” Rhea mocked, elbowing your arm.

You shook your head, pressing your lips together trying to keep your laughter silent. The commotion of classmates was soon drowned out by thoughts as your eyes met Rhea’s, causing your tightened lips to curl into a small smile.

Rhea’s blue eyes never failed to warm you. Everytime you gazed into those beachy eyes you were brought back to the day you first met the girl. Seventh grade, first period, language arts. A quiet blonde girl sporting a Pierce The Veil shirt was assigned to sit next to you. Nobody knew anything about the girl besides the fact she had just moved basically across the globe. You spent the entire period thinking of what you could possibly say to her, because what do you even say to a kid that was just relocated from South Australia all the way to some shitty suburban town?

“Cool shirt.”

And it fucking worked somehow. You were immediately attached to her hip. The two of you grew closer with each day that passed. You were inseparable. She was everything to you. Sleepovers every weekend. ‘Study’ sessions that were spent play fighting with each other. Singing pop-punk songs at the top of your lungs till your throats were raw. Dying your hair the same shade of blue at three in the morning. She was even at your side while your parents scolded you the morning after for said blue hair.

Jesus Christ. Lost in her eyes again? Snap out of it already!

“Yo, Alice in Wonderland, you okay?” Rhea playfully questioned, breaking your trance by poking at your thigh.

“Just…thinking. That’s all.” You softly chuckled. You were telling the truth, you were just thinking. Just thinking about her. Thinking about her touch, her hands, her pierced nose, her lips, her stupid cool shirts.

══════⋆☆⋆══════

“Jesus, someone’s eager to get out of here.” You laughed, trailing behind Rhea who was booking it over to her small black Lexus.

“Dude, can you blame me? It’s like everyone has some sort of prom fever. I am not letting it catch me.” Rhea complained, ducking into the vehicle.

You made your way to the passenger side of the car before hopping into the seat next to Rhea. “I counted eighteen of those damn signs today.” You babbled, resting your arm on the center console before trailing on, diffusing the topic, “Anyways, let’s go thrifting or something. I don’t wanna go home.”

Rhea shrugged in agreeance before pulling out of her parking spot. She knew things were tough for you at home. You had recently come out as lesbian to your parents. They weren't unsupportive but they weren't exactly supportive at the same time which had built quite a bit of tension in the household. You came out to Rhea just about two years ago, who was more than supportive. She was your number one defender, always there to threaten whichever classmate that dared to ridicule you.

You knew absolutely nothing about Rhea’s sexuality. Hell, even Rhea knew nothing about her sexuality. She only knew one thing, that she liked you. She didn’t even know when she caught feelings for you, it was like the sentiments were there since the moment you first spoke to her. She hoped as time went on the flutters she’d feel for you would pass on but recently she couldn’t seem to even push the mere thought of you out of her head, it was killing her.

The drive to the nearest thrift shop was comfortably silent…silent if you ignored the Black Veil Brides cd Rhea had blaring…

Entering the store the pair of you let out scoffed laughs as the first thing catching your attention was a large display of second hand dresses. Shaking it out of your heads and ignoring it at first you carried on to wander the isles, grabbing whatever caught your eye to try on later although you’d inevitably end back up to the racks of long dresses. You weren't a big fan of dresses but you wanted to waste as much time as you possibly could, so you decided to browse the gowns with Rhea.

She pulled a deep maroon dress, the form fitting glittered bodice was paired with a looser, more freeing skirt. “Try it on!” Rhea pushed, shoving the dress into your arms.

“I’d look so stupid in this.” You gave Rhea a bewildered look.

“Oh c’mon just try it!”

“Rhe’ when have you ever given a shit about this stuff?”

“Dude you’re the one that wanted to waste time here…” Rhea playfully scorned, diverting your question.

“Urgh, I hate when you’re right.” You huffed, shuffling towards the dressing room.

“How ridiculous do I look?” You pouted, opening the door of the changing room before shuffling to the closest mirror.

Rhea stood behind you, peering over your shoulder as you silently studied yourself in the mirror. You looked at Rhea through the mirror as she opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself in her tracks. “I mean it’s cute but where in the world would I wear this?” You shrugged, adjusting the straps as Rhea chewed on her cheeks.

“Wear it to prom.” Rhea timidly broke her silence.

“Why would I go to prom, Rhe’? First of all it would be so lame and second of all I’d have nobody to go with. I’m just gonna put this back.” You mumbled, turning to make your way back into the changing room.

A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “Go with me…” Rhea blurted out, sounding scared of her own words. Her statement caused you to turn to face her with a puzzled expression, Rhea herself even looked surprised at what she just said. Fearing your rejection she quickly added on, “Ya know, like as a joke and stuff. We can make it not lame…”

“As a joke?” Your heart that was skipping beats just seconds ago was immediately let down.

“Yeah. It’s just a stupid idea we don’t hav-”

“No, let's go…as a joke.” You interrupted Rhea’s nervous deflection. “We’ve got nothing better to do.” You shrugged on watching Rhea’s anxieties fade into the distance as her classic cheeky smile crept upon her face.

After you swapped out of your dress you returned to Rhea who was holding up a silky black dress with a deep slit in the skirt. “This’ll work. I’m too lazy to try anything on.” She chuckled while shrugging.

“That's ballsy Rhe-Rhe.”

══════⋆☆⋆══════

Tonight was the night, you were sat atop Rhea’s bathroom counter, finishing up your makeup while Rhea was shuffling around her closet searching for a pair of shoes. It had been four weeks since Rhea ‘asked’ you to prom and you simply couldn’t keep your mind off it. Although you two planned this whole thing as a joke, something shifted ever so slightly between the two of you, maybe it wasn’t a joke, who knows. Rhea had your heart in your throat at every moment and you were the topic of every thought that popped into Rhea’s head. More than ever the both of you were head over heels for each other, just terrified the other wouldn’t reciprocate those shared feelings.

Your parents were completely unaware you’d be attending prom. You had informed them you were staying with a friend before immediately storming off to Rhea’s house. Rhea’s parents hadn’t a clue either, they were under the impression tonight would be just another night of the two of you doing nothing for hours then sneaking out to go for a drive at three in the morning. There truly wasn’t much reasoning behind this secret, you guys just wanted to have this night for yourselves without pestering parents.

“Urgh! At this point I’m gonna go barefoot!” You could hear yet another pair of shoes be tossed to the floor. You slid off Rhea’s counter, stepped out of her bathroom and over to her closet. She was already in her dress tearing through a pile of shoes on the floor. “What has gotten into you Rhe’?” You leaned against the doorframe laughing at the fact that Rhea of all people was stressing over shoes.

Rhea rolled her eyes ignoring your banter. “Would it make me a hipster if I wore converse?”

“Oh absolutely, I dare you!”

“You know I will,” Rhea retorted, picking up a black pair of the canvas shoes.

You chuckled before turning to return to the bathroom, letting Rhea know you were gonna change. You got into your dress with ease up until you came to the zipper on the back. You groaned in annoyance, reaching behind to your back attempting to wiggle the zipper to no avail.

“Rhe’, can you help me real quick?” You asked while popping your head out the door.

“Hm? What’s up?” Rhea turned around and questioned before making her way up to you, trying to keep her gaze from falling down to the hand placed on your chest, keeping the dress from completely slipping from your body.

“Zippers stuck,” You pouted, turning around. Rhea’s hand swept across the base of your neck, sweeping your hair to the side. You watched her through the mirror as she began fumbling with the metal, ultimately getting it to slide up your back.

After an awkward exchange of bashful looks the two of you finished getting ready in each other's company. You sat next to Rhea slipping into your shoes while she tied off her converse, took a handful of polaroid pictures together, then eventually snuck out Rhea’s window to begin your hike to the school.

══════⋆☆⋆══════

“Ouu! Ripley’s got a date!” Was whistled out by a classmate as you and Rhea made your way down the congested hallway, making Rhes roll her eyes.

“Shut up dickhead! We’re here as a joke.” Rhea rebutted, flipping the guy off as she carried on down the hall.

Here as a joke but her flushed cheeks and sweaty hand gripping yours told a slightly different story.

“Dickheads always running their mo-” Rhea muttered, stepping into the crowded gymnasium.

“Shh. It’s fine, you shouldn’t worry about them.” You cut off Rhea, giving her hand a squeeze as you examined the starry night themed room. The area was dimly lit by blue leds and strings of fairy lights. Blue curtains decorated with paper stars draped over the majority of the walls while an array of tables adorned with bottles of fairy lights surrounded a dance floor full of teenagers.

You both seated yourselves near the stage where a live band was playing. Your legs pressed against one another as you fell into an array of conversations. Thirty minutes had managed to sneak by before your meaningless conversation was cut short by your biology teacher.

“You girls gonna sit here and chat all night? Go dance!”

“But dancing is lame, Mr. Brown.” Rhea groaned while you both turned to face the man.

“I promise you that in ten years you’ll regret not doing anything at your senior prom. Seriously, go dance!” Your teacher stood behind you giving his words of advice. Rhea peeked over to you looking for your opinion. You gave her a ‘why not’ shrug before rising from your seat.

“But I don't even know how to slow dance.” Rhea whined to herself under her breath as she stood up. “If we have to dance, we’re dancing in the corner cause I’m gonna look stupid.” She stipulated.

You guided Rhea over to a secluded section of the dance floor near a wall, reassuring her that you also had no clue on what you were doing.

“We’ll just do what everyone else is doing, Rhe’.”

“I think this right,” Rhea unassuredly giggled with a racing heart, taking a hold of your left hand while wrapping her free hand around your waist. You shook your hair to cover your flushing cheeks as you brought your right hand to rest on her shoulder. The pair of you began swaying to the music while trying to hold back laughter, both in slight disbelief at your current situation. Prom was the last place either of you ever expected to be attending.

You were already trailing back into the pit of those sapphire eyes, drowning out all external noise you missed Rhea humming about how beautiful you looked. You were too occupied taking in the essence of your childlike crush to take notice of the grip Rhea had on your waist tightening. You were fully prepared to stare into those eyes all night, but Rhea was eager to run a risk.

A set of warm lips fell onto you abruptly, pulling you by the waist into a desperate kiss. All five senses rushed over your body, sending a rush of adrenaline through your bloodstream, placing you in awe too shocked to move.

Rhea forced herself to pull away, letting a sigh of relief out before the panic settled in, “Shit. I, god I’m so-”

Your thoughts had just now grasped what just happened.

This was a kiss that spent years in the making…you were not just gonna let it end like that.

Your hand slipped to the back of Rhea’s head, pushing Rhea back into the kiss, forcibly putting an end to her apology. She immediately fell back into your lips, closing her dilated eyes. While her tongue slid across your bottom lip begging to deepen the kiss, her hands slid up to cup your cheeks. Time slid away as the two of you fell into each other in your isolated corner of the gymnasium.

Rhea pulled herself from your lips breathless, her parted lips forming an open smile. She wanted more. You attempted to collect your thoughts while catching your breath. Both of you were attempting to draft a response while gazing into each other, because what do you say after tasting your best friend of five years?

“Cool.” You nodded

Rhea shook her head scoffing out a laugh, still making an attempt to regulate her breath. She took grip of your hand, giving it a squeeze before beginning to pull you into the hall without speaking a word.

“Wher-”

“Just follow me!” Rhea cut you off, rushing through the halls as she dragged you behind herself, both of you trying not to stumble over your dresses.

She halted in front of the nurses office before fiddling with the keypad on the door, “God bless modern technology,” She muttered, managing to get the door open as you watched in disbelief. “Don’t even ask.” She chuckled, scanning the hall to make sure you were in the clear before tugging you into the room.

Once Rhea’s foot forced the door shut her lips directly got to work pinning themselves to your neck, nipping at the delicate skin.

“Shit Rhe’, there might be cameras.” You pushed through a stunned whine.

“There's none…” Rhea couldn't even pull her lips away from your skin as she spoke, “Wouldn't stop me either way, I’ve waited too long for this.” She grunted, dragging her kisses to your collarbone. “Now please tell me I can keep going.”

“I don’t think I could ever tell you to stop.” You pulled Rhea’s face to meet your eyes, whispering your confession. There was no need for Rhea to open her mouth, the look on her face alone told you that was exactly what she needed to hear.

“You have no fucking clue how long I’ve waited for this.” Rhea growled, grasping your cheeks as she pulled you over to the nurses twin sized treatment bed.

She brought her legs to straddle over you, lowering her chest to hover over you. Rhea was attached to you like a dog, her lips were sloppy against yours as her hands snuck to pull up the skirt of your dress.

Rhea brought herself between your legs, in a rush to finally get a taste of your core.

“Please…I’m begging you, please don't make me wait more than I already have.” Rhea looked up at you pleading.

Your heart was in your throat as you fervently nodded. “I wanna hear your voice,” Rhea begged, whispering out your name.

“Rhea, please just do anything, I need, I need you.”

With that said she hurriedly slid your panties down your legs, tossing them to the foot of the bed. Rhea was making it clear that tonight was her time to shine.

“Fuck, you’re perfect…” Rhea murmured, awed at the sight of your soaked cunt. Her arms tangled themselves around your legs. After years her tongue finally made contact with your delicacy, she preached a string of curses, finally getting what she was after. You propped yourself on your elbows to catch the sight of Rhea exploring your brand new world. You could feel a smirk between your legs as her eyes met yours, thirstily watching you watch.

“Tastes so good.” Rhea praised, sweeping her tongue through your folds before bringing herself to round your clit. You chewed on your cheeks to hush the moans escaping your throat as Rhea wrapped her lips around your sensitivity, allowing her to lightly suck at your skin. Your legs made an unsuccessful attempt at wrapping around Rhea’s head only to be overtaken by her hands, prying them open, giving her full access to devour your aching heat.

The stealthy addition of two fingers into your emptiness was only amplifying the wobbly knees her mouth alone had created. Her fingers began steadily massaging into you, causing an arch to form over your back. The mixture of Rhea’s roaming tongue and grinding digits already had a knot forming in your stomach.

“Fucking Christ Rhe’, where the fuck did you learn all this.” You struggled out through moans. Rhea let out a soft chuckle as she continued to take your clit into her mouth, rolling her tongue piercing over your sensitivity.

Rhea gave your cunt one last kiss before she brought herself to face you. Now that Rhea had finally gotten a taste of your mouth she couldn't get enough, she had to return for more. Your lips once again blended together, your moans now slipping into Rhea’s mouth as her fingers curled inside your core.

“God, you sound so beautiful.” Rhea admired, pressing her warmed forehead against yours while her digits continued toying with your clenching walls. Her thumb was soon added to the mixture of pleasure as it rubbed rhythmic circles over your bud.

“Rhe’, I want to feel you against me,” You opened your eyes, pulling from her kiss while your hips rolled against her working digits. “Please.”

Rhea nodded, her eyes full of adoration, she’d do whatever it took to please you no matter if it took minutes or hours. She let her fingers come to a declined pace before withdrawing from your warmth. She stood up, licking her fingers clean before riding her dress up her legs and dropping her panties. She rushed to return to the bed pulling your leg into the air before propping a leg of hers next to your hip.

Rhea settled her heat against yours, letting out a heavy breath. She gradually started rocking her hips against you, mixing your slick together. You watched as the new sensation of pleasure washed over her, causing her jaw to drop open and her eyes to roll to the back of her head.

“Just…just like that.” You whimpered as you began to grind your hips at a matching pace, chasing towards your climax. Rhea’s arm clung to your leg that was situated in the air for support as the sound of quiet moans and the rustling of dress fabric bounced around the room.

“Feels so good, fuck.” Rhea quickened her motions, moaning out the nickname she created for you through heavy breaths.Rhea pushed herself further against you chasing her own high as you squirmed beneath her grinds.

“Rhe’, I’m gonna cum.” You whined out, reaching for a hand to cling to. Her hand met you halfway, instantly taking you into her grip she pulled you up to meet her face. She was back to those oh-so passionate kisses she could now never get enough of. “Please, Rhe’!” You cried against her, her movements bucking against your cunt.

Rhea nodded into your kiss signaling for your release, her own climax just seconds away. Your series of moans brushed against Rhea’s lips as your orgasm washed over you, hers quickly following. Muffled whines echoed around the room as Rhea’s thrusts against you faltered.

After riding out your highs together, Rhea squeezed herself next to you on the tiny bed and rested her hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. “I swear to god if you say cool.” Rhea looked over at you giggling.

“Unfair!” You joked, resting your head against Rhea’s chest. You both fell into silence simply taking in the moment, reflecting on everything that had just happened. Rhea peppered small kisses to the top of your head as you toyed with the fabric of her dress.

“We should probably get outta here before somebody finds us.” Rhea suggested, breaking the silence.

“Wanna go dance again?” You teased as you turned to face her.

Rhea quickly shook her head, “I’m never gonna dance again. I was so bad.” She laughed, “How about we go find a parking lot and makeout under the stars, hm?”

“I seriously would have never expected you to be all smoochy, Rhe’.”

“Look, I have like five years of kisses to make up for!”

#this one is such a mess sorry lol #i fear i yearned too much #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley #rhea ripley oneshot #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley fluff #rhea ripley fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe smut

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