#like objectively the next step is for them to kiss and/or fuck but i need to make that logical jump

[randlemartin]

kind of hitting a wall with my speirton fic but exactly at the bit where they're just kind of standing there in their underwear which is objectively a funny place to leave them

[supercutszns]

bitter to the taste; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc + pairing: 5.5k, luke castellan x f!reader

synopsis: a sharp blade, a black eye, and (more than) two kisses.

warnings: this is even sluttier than the last one, language, sword fighting, sharp objects, blood/injuries, reader is still a horrible person and so is luke but he's also a loooser, making out, allusions/mentions of sex but no super explicit descriptions, kind of fluffy at the end

notes: i’m starting to hate this bc i think i’ve been staring at it too long sorry if this is not as good as pt.1 but i have plans for this series ok. also READER AND LUKE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE!!! THEIR RELATIONSHIP WILL NOT ALWAYS BE GOOD!!! THEY SUCK!! they are also not real but keep that in mind :) synopsis inspired by crush by ethel cain; designated song for this fic is unpunishable by ethel cain (i’ve got a whole chronological playlist for these freaks like it’s serious)

You’ve always had a taste for violence. And an equally powerful penchant for sloth. 

You prefer to watch the carnage, not participate. It satisfies something inside you that you know, if it wasn’t for your laziness, could cause something irrevocable. Who the hell has time for that?. You’d rather lie back and watch instead.

This flaw of yours is the only reason you haven’t stirred more trouble, you think. It’s the reason you never attend camp games or sparring lessons. Sometimes, when you do, a dark muscle flexes inside your heart to curl out of its slumber, forming a hunger you don’t have otherwise. The second it starts to pry you have to rear yourself back and tuck the monster in. Banish the need for something more.

You don’t want to feed it. You don’t know what happens if you do. So you let other people do the feeding for you.

Luke cuts through two dummy heads in one swoop. It’s fucking gorgeous. The moon reflects off his sword, a silver sheen casting his face when he’s in the right spot. His brows are set, eyes so dark they blend with the night. Every motion is ruthless. Satisfying. 

You don’t know how many times you’ve watched him like this. He called you out for it last night, but you’re sure he doesn’t know the half of it. The shadows are a sacred cloak to you, and you wait inside them until you want your presence known. 

Meet me tomorrow. 

It runs through your head like a broken record. You can still feel his breath on your lips and your neck is still tender—had to wear a sweater in the blazing heat to hide the marks. Since you were created you’ve accepted a universal truth about yourself: you don’t harbour affection for anyone or anything. There’s not a single thing you’ve felt drawn to or protective over but yourself. It’s solitary, yes, and lonely, yes, but that’s the way you’re supposed to be. 

But you think about last night. You think about the moments between the kisses and the rush. When he teased you against your ear. When his hand brushed a certain spot on your back and something much lighter fluttered inside of you. When you crawled into sleep and thought about him, those were the moments that struck you the strangest. 

His gaze pans over the treeline every once in a while, the anger diluted. Then it comes back twice as hard as he shreds another dummy to pieces. 

He’s waiting for you. Oh, this is rich! A better person would probably turn around and go spoon their offerings into the bonfire the second they understand what they’re doing is incredibly destructive. But who are we kidding? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. 

So you take a step forward, slip out of the comfort of the dark, and the next time he looks to the treeline he knows you’re there. He can’t see you, but he knows. 

You wait. His strikes are less tenuous, much smoother. It almost makes you laugh. Some fucking showman he is. 

Eventually, he buries his blade in the dirt and wipes his brow. “Are you gonna come talk to me or are you gonna stare at me all night like an owl?”

You relish in the feeling of shedding the darkness, coming into the light of the moon. “Hi,” you say flatly, but there’s a tiny smile on his face when he sees you that almost puts you off. 

“Hello, rotten.” He tries to lean on the hilt of his sword but it isn’t quite tall enough so he stumbles. It’s so pathetic it almost makes you laugh. 

“Don’t call me that,” you grimace.

“Okay, back to heathen?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Well, you don’t seem too happy when people call you by your name so pick your poison here.” 

You don’t say anything, your mouth set in a scowl. “All right, both it is,” Luke shrugs.

He’s different from last night. Less impatient. You hope it’s not because he thinks he has you now—he’s got another thing coming. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna come,” he says with a crooked grin, neither bashful nor ashamed. 

You’ve made your way closer to him, the soft grass turning to dusty earth. “Don’t know why I did,” you mutter crassly. 

Having abandoned his sword, Luke chuckles wryly. “Yes, you do.”

That bitterness he hides from everyone else pierces through. He tilts your face up like he did yesterday, the press of his fingers beneath your chin almost burning you. You know he’s peering at the marks on your neck. 

“If you made me come here just to hook up with me you’re delusional,” you glare. 

“What, like that’s not why you’re here?” He pushes your face up a little higher, grinning a little when you add resistance. “I’m a gentleman, you know. I can be patient.”

This guy is full of fucking shit.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you snipe. The only point of contact you have is his hand on your chin, but you’re a hair’s breadth away from having everything else. The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you.

He keeps your face still. He’s studying you, and you’re suddenly curious about what he sees. You remember all those looks you’d share at the dinner tables that made this happen in the first place. What did he see then? 

“You wanna fight?”

It takes you a second to react. “What?”

“You want to fight. Pick up a sword, let’s go.” He smiles as he finally lets you go, waltzing away from you to unbury his sword from the dirt. His touch permeates through your skin and you hate it. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t fight.”

“Sure you can,” he replies, grabbing another sword from the training rack. “You need to burn off a little steam.”

You laugh sharply. “And you think me waving a sword around is gonna do that?”

“Uh, yeah,” he grins. “It’s the method that lets us keep the most clothes on.” 

You glare at him. His smirk is a mile wide. The way your stomach is simmering almost makes you sick; it’s like gorging yourself on candy except this time the candy has a sword and maybe wants to fuck you. 

You just watch as he hands you his sword, and the moonlight glinting off the metal has you believing it’s not the kind used for training. “I’ll use the dull one,” he assures. “C’mon, heathen. I know you’ve used a sword before, they force us to.”

“I usually skip those classes.”

He laughs. You can’t tell if it’s at you or with you. “Of course you do.”

You don’t like following orders, but oh, what the hell. Luke knows something about you, just like you know something about him. You’re only a little curious about it. 

“Straighten your back,” is the first thing he says once you’ve taken your stance across from him. The blunt of his sword reaches out to tap your hip. 

You begrudgingly do as you’re told. He watches you mirthfully, and the press of his sword against you starts to feel like a substitute for his hand. All the closeness you’re hungry for, dampened by cold steel. It still makes you buzz. 

He gives you the barebones—the right grip, how to maneuver, the proper balance. But long gone is his easy disposition. The motor inside him that powered all those dummy beheadings and disembowelments is running again, except this time it’s for you. He wants a fight. This is his battlefield. All right, you’ll bite.

You start to spar with the skill of an overgrown toddler. The sword feels like an unnatural ligament hanging off your body. Luke is precise, convicting, far more enthusiastic than you. “You can do better than that,” he prods after your swords clash lazily for the billionth time. “Stop going easy.”

“You’re going easy,” you shoot back. 

“Yeah, but I’d really rather not. Come on.” 

There’s a moment of hesitation. You think about that dark thing you keep harboured. A muscle aching to be used. 

“Come on,” he says again, and he almost sounds pissed. “All of a sudden you’re playing nice? What are you afraid of?”

Something flares inside you. “Nothing!”

“Then pick up the sword and fight me.”

You huff and roll your eyes, but your next swing is far more inspired. Luke blocks it easily, but you don’t care. “There we go,” he nods. “Again.”

This is more than you bargained for when you decided to come see him. All you want is to make out with this hot, awful person and have him tell you hot, awful things about yourself you probably already know. Why do you have to fight to get it? 

He keeps provoking you no matter how hard you try. Your temper picks up the more you swing, discordant clangs bruising the air, but it’s still not enough. Luke doesn’t let up. Of course the one time you try to be nice, you’re not allowed to. On second thought, why are you reigning yourself in for Luke? The only other person in camp with a real, consuming viciousness? If anything you should hit him twice as hard, since he’s so sure he can take it. 

“No wonder you’re so angry all the time,” Luke heaves out, and it gives you a swell of satisfaction. “You don’t have a proper outlet. Maybe you’d be nicer if you didn’t sit around and complain all day.”

“Shut up,” you gnash your teeth. 

“Just saying, maybe you should do something about it.”

You’re getting lost in the rhythm of the swords, the adrenaline, the sweat passing the scar on his cheek. Every swing you think less and less, and that dark muscle flexes more and more. It feels like home to you. Like a good meal. Your bones ache and the world has darkened, but that rotten pit inside you cracks open in full bloom. 

Luke keeps egging you on but you can’t hear him. Not like he still needs to. You think you’re smiling, or huffing furiously, or both. The sharpness of the sword intrigues you. A million terrible things reflect off its blade and you imagine them, all at once, until you are out of your body and the black hole inside you has properly wedged itself open. 

Luke jabs at you and you bring your sword down with a vengeance. But it’s a little too low. You only notice when he drops his weapon to the side and staggers back.

The fog of violence falters. It fades almost completely when he hisses long and hard, eyes screwed shut, and you see the tear in his shirt. In his skin. 

“Shit,” you say. “Fuck.”

You don’t sound sorry, you don’t think you are sorry, especially when he laughs. It’s a wheezy one through his teeth as you come up to him, but a laugh nonetheless. “Knew you were going easy,” he remarks through a wince. 

You ignore him, looking down at the injury. A  gash across his abdomen. It’s bleeding a little, but not enough for it to drip. You did that. Just looking at the blood, you feel the bitter taste of it in your mouth, the reward a temporary hunger for carnage brought you. This is why you don’t play camp games. 

“I’ve got thick skin. I’m fine,” Luke says casually. “I’ve got a medical kit under that tree over there in case I beat myself up too bad.” He’s no longer scrunched in pain, and you’ve got a feeling he’s telling the truth. So you go fetch the kit where he said it was. You need to wrap that slash. Not because you’re sorry for him, but because looking at it makes you angry. 

You kneel and pop the lid of the small tin kit, covered in dirt. It’s mostly gauze and bandages. Rubbing alcohol too. “Just give me the gauze, that’s all I need,” Luke gestures. 

“Shut the fuck up, I’m doing it myself.” You’ve already torn off some gauze, sitting all the way up on your knees. 

“Most people just say sorry.”

“You pushed me,” you spit back, surprisingly forceful. Luke’s smile drops. You take a deep breath, adjusting yourself to get eye level with the injury. “I told you I don’t fight.”

You’re not sure what makes Luke give in, but he doesn’t say a word as you lift the hem of his torn shirt and he holds it up. There’s no proud remark about your eyes lingering on his stomach, or the hesitation in your hands. You stare at the wound. It really is shallow. Your thumb presses at the skin around it and he winces. “My bad,” you mutter. 

As you sterilize the cut and wrap the gauze around his torso, you try not to let your fingertips cling to the warmth on his skin. You try not to notice the other scars littered there, most faded to the point they should be impossible to pick up even in the sun. It’s obvious he’s staring at you. Your neck is crawling with warmth. But you don’t engage, you just wrap the gauze a few times and do your best not to notice the rise and fall beneath his muscles as he breathes. Then you fasten things neatly and put everything away so you can get up. Any second. Come on. 

“Good?” You ask instead, exhaling. 

“Good,” he affirms. He slides a hand under your forearm and gets you up. It stays there once you’re standing. The night stills. 

“I’m guessing you’re adding ‘attempted killer’ to your list of horrible qualities,” you go on to break the silence.

He holds your gaze unyieldingly. “I’d consider that a pro, actually.” 

You are entirely fed up with this drawn out evening, but you can’t bring yourself to speed anything up any more than stepping closer so your chests brush. “I will give you one, though,” he continues, craning down to your ear. You smell his skin and it sends you back to the position you were in yesterday. 

He finally kisses your jaw, just once, then your neck. You shiver. “You’re too tense.” Another kiss behind your ear. It’s not enough. “Do you even know how to have fun?”

“I don’t want to have fun,” you reply bitterly. I just want to make out with you, asshat.

Luke’s breath frosts over your face when he chuckles, but before he can get any further away you catch his mouth with yours. Almost instinctively his arm winds around you to pull you in closer, your hand looping through his curls. It's a relief, knowing last night wasn't some freak accident. This does feel good, actually, and it can happen. Everything you felt yesterday is only more urgent now, hungrier, and you're pretty sure the way you kiss him gives that away.

He indulges you, squeezing the base of your hips as his other hand thumbs across the marks on your neck. This is so fucking embarassing—you think you whine when he bites down on your bottom lip. You’ve never needed something this bad, you’ve never needed anything. But you press yourself as close to him as you can manage and his hand runs lower, slips against your inner thighs, and it’s difficult to worry about anything else. 

Until he pulls away. Like a dick. 

He doesn’t go far, his forehead pressed to yours, but you feel like pulling out all his hair. It’s a muddling mix of frustration and longing you’re starting to associate with him. “Dude,” you groan, an inner coil only starting to unwind begrudgingly compressing. 

“Let’s go for a swim,” he says. The enthusiasm is almost alarming. Almost makes him look younger.

You’re homicidal. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, heathen. Let’s go for a swim, come on.”

He’s rubbing circles on your thigh, which only makes you want to strangle him. “But I—I don’t have my bathing suit,” you string out. 

The smile gets more boyish. “Wow, whatever shall we do?”

It’s another challenge. Another dare. And he knows what you want, fucking jerk. You’re going to kill him. 

“Fine,” you grunt, and the second the words leave your lips you’re pulled to the lake. 

It’s a warm, sticky evening, only made worse with the sweat and the half-assed kissing, so the water doesn’t seem all that bad. Unfortunately, you don’t like giving into demands. So you stare ghoulishly at your fingernails as Luke tosses off his ripped shirt and his shorts so he can plunge into the lake. “Aren’t you going to at least come in?” He asks, but you don’t look at him. 

“I don’t like swimming,” you lie. 

“At least your feet. It’s nice, I swear!”

A splash, like smoke moving through wind chimes. You look up and Luke has completely submerged, popping his head up closer to the mouth of the dock. “Please,” he says with such conviction your resolve turns to butter. Gods, what is happening to you? You still need that lobotomy! 

You sigh, roll your eyes, turn your back to him. “Fuck this,” you mutter under your breath. You undress to your undergarments and you’re not sure if you want Luke to be watching or not. The moon touches your bare skin and a chill trickles through you. 

You take a seat at the edge of the dock, knees tucked to your chest. Luke swims over for you right away. His hair is dripping against his skin, and you hate how beautiful it looks. The waterline is high tonight, almost ridiculously so, so he props his elbows up on the dock with no problem. “Come in,” he urges. 

“No.”

“Just your legs?”

“No.”

“Gods, I’ll make it worth it, just throw your damn legs in!” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. His face is stubbornly pink. Oh, so now he wants something. You take your time uncurling yourself and Luke wades away from the dock so you can put your feet in. The water goes up to your calves, and you shiver. “So fucking difficult,” he mutters, and your pulse flickers. 

“Sorry, what was that?” You let yourself grin for the first time all night. 

“Nothing,” he hums. This time when he comes to the dock, he wraps his hands around your calves. You’re pretty sure he can stand here because he stops treading. The warmth of the water seems to spread further, long past the threshold of your knees. 

He rests his chin just above your knee, water pooling on your skin. “Stop dripping on me,” you complain. 

“Sorry.” He fake pouts when he kisses the damp spot. You see, ever so faintly, a diabolic shift in his expression. He nudges your leg with the point of his nose, then kisses it, then starts to move it aside. “Feel bad about teasing you all night,” he murmurs, still with an edge. He presses more kisses on your legs. “I really did want to see you.”

The irony that he’s still teasing is not lost on you. You’re not loving how desperately warm you’re starting to feel. “Why’s that?” You lean back on your palms. 

“You’re a very interesting person,” he quips innocently. His hands are cupping the backs of your calves. He’s pulled you a lot closer to the water, and somehow you’ve just noticed. Another blistering kiss on the inside of your thigh. 

“You’re fucking evil,” you scathe. 

He looks up at you from between your legs. “You have literally done nothing but berate and injure me this whole evening.”

“Yeah, and right after I patch you up you jump in the water for shits. You’re playing infection roulette, Castellan.”

“See? You’re so mean.” He sighs, and in a move that almost surprises you to death, he hoists both your legs over his shoulders and they dangle into the river behind him. “And here I am anyway, making it up to you.”

You are suddenly illuminated on the purpose of this situation. Why Luke is between your legs. Your heart jolts. “Luke, you can’t be serious.” 

“Mmhm.” He leans forward to kiss right under your navel. 

You hate how much you want him to do it again, how your body burns, but you avert your eyes. “Someone’s gonna—someone’s gonna hear us.”

He snorts, “No they won’t. Either this or you come in the water with me. Or both. We’ll see.”

A huge smile cracks across your face before you push it back down. You’re going to spend a lot of time coming back to this moment, this night, wondering why. “What is wrong with you.”

It comes out like a compliment when it leaves you. You want to vanish. Luke chuckles, and something foreign to the both of you buzzes through the air. 

“Are you going to be nice?” He asks against your skin. 

“Are you going to be quick?”

His mouth finds your hip bones and yeah, why the hell would you say no to this? He nods, “Swear.” 

That’s all you need. You let your eyes slide shut and your head tilts towards the sky. Luke takes your permission and runs with it, pries you open with his mouth until the stars soak through the black of your eyelids. 

You discover pretty quickly neither of you are good at keeping promises. 

The next time you need Luke’s med kit, he’s already awake. 

It’s been happening more and more often. You lurking around camp past moonrise and finding Luke outside his cabin, going for a walk or a stretch or a … something with you. 

“Do you ever sleep?” You ask him sometimes between flurries of kisses with your back against a tree. 

“Could ask you the same thing, heathen,” he squeezes your hips and nips at your neck, but never answers the question. And neither do you, so you’re both okay with it. You’d hate to give up this feeling, but he doesn’t need to know that.

This is the first time in your punitive life you have felt alive. Like a person, with bones and flesh and soul, a real presence. Not a ghost of smoke and shadow. You are real. 

Fooling around makes you feel like an actual teenager. You’re young, you remember when Luke joins you in the dark. You’re having fun. His hands under your shirt and his mouth on your collarbone, the way he bites down and winces when you do something a little too well, when you string out his name and he rewards you for it. You’re both greedy, insatiable people, so there’s a push and pull only the two of you would ever be able to handle. And nobody has to know. Despite all the bruises, the sleepless nights, the swollen lips, all you and Luke share in the daylight are noxious looks, and that's only if he can find you. A perfect crime. Camp Half-Blood’s angel and the vice that lives in the shadows. But in the dark, it’s hard to tell which is which. 

“Luke,” you whisper. “Luke.”

“I’m up,” he grumbles, peering up at you. “You shouldn’t sneak into my cabin.” He was already sitting up in his bed when you slipped in, and he didn’t notice you were there till you were right in front of him.

“Worried someone will catch me? You should know better.” 

He follows you outside so you don’t wake the other campers. There’s a thrill knowing just one interaction between the two of you could ruin both your reputations forever. 

“What is it, heathen?” He asks as the door closes behind him. It’s so dark and your back is turned to him, but his voice is drenched in smugness. “You don’t usually want to put up with me more than once a night.”

“Don’t have a choice,” you mutter, staring out at the camp. You go to chew on your bottom lip, but you wince immediately. “Where’s your kit thingy? The one we used after I impaled you.” 

“You mean after you lightly grazed me?” 

“Just tell me where it is, Luke.”

Your sharpness could cut through any sleepy daze he possibly has. He’s silent behind you for a second. “Why?” He asks.

“Because I need it.”

His hand curls around your shoulder and before you can think to submerge yourself in darkness, he turns you around. When he sees you, his face breaks from something proud to something … you’re not sure you like. “Oh, heathen,” he murmurs. “What happened to you?”

You guess it’s a semi-appropriate reaction, although you expected at least a grimace. To put it lightly, your face looks gnarly as fuck. There’s a bruise on your cheekbone and your lip is split. But what really draws attention is the half-formed, garish black eye swelling up your right side. 

“Just the usual. Pissed someone off.” It hurts the skin on your lip that’s caked with blood. 

He rests his thumb on your unbruised cheek, but somehow it still stings. You know he can’t see much of you in the dark but he tries. The prolonged eye contact without the imminent promise of a kiss feels foreign. “You need to go to the Apollo cabin,” he concludes, brows pushed together. 

A laugh slips past your broken lips. “No fucking shot. They would not help me.”

“Why not?”

“Because one of their shit-eaters did this!”

The words take a moment to register. You see them filtering through Luke’s brain. He blinks absurdly. “An Apollo guy beat you up?”

“Not beat up. Just … tussled.”

“How much tussling earns you a black eye, exactly? From Apollo kids.”

“Gods, just tell me where your kit is so you can go back to fucking sleep.”

His fingertips inch around the back of your neck, thumb still against your face. “Already wasn’t sleeping. I might as well help you,” he shrugs. “I move the kit every once in a while so some other campers don’t ravage it.”

“I don’t need help.”

Luke opens his mouth, then sighs deeply. He takes a firm hold of your arm and starts to tug you along. “Hey, what—” you swat at his arm. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs. “Come on.”

It’s strange. Luke’s never done you a favour before. At least not one like this. You’re disgruntled enough that you had to go ask him in the first place and now he’s dragging you around? “This isn’t such a big deal, Luke,” you badger. “I’m fine.”

“Sure, whatever. Wait right here.” He lets go of you and only then you realize you’re in front of the Apollo cabin. You grimace, and Luke must have noticed because he says, “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna go inside and grab some things. No one’s gonna jump you.”

You scowl at him, and he just laughs. A part of you hopes he hits his head on the way in. You hide anyway. 

It’s a few minutes of waiting in the oppressive summer heat, until Luke emerges from the cabin with his hands full. He looks around, hesitantly calling, “Heathen?” Then again. You move out of your hiding spot and he jogs over to greet you. 

“Nice haul,” you comment. There’s an ice pack, cotton pads, a few miscellaneous items. “How’d you get them?”

He smiles widely. “Everyone loves me, heathen. It’s not hard.”

“…So you stole them.”

“Yes, but only because I’m too tired to talk to people and I’m protesting for your sake,” he rattles off. “Now hold this ice pack before it gives me frostbite.”

The two of you make your way down to the docks again. It’s morphed into your usual meeting place, since the waves lapping at the shore mask when Luke gets a little too noisy just to piss you off. (At least that’s what he tells you.)

He’s stashed his little tin in a different tree this time. After he retrieves it he sets everything out like a chef preparing to make a meal out of gauze and rubbing alcohol. 

Your head has been throbbing for the past few hours. You’re not proud that you antagonized the wrong Apollo kid and got a shiner for it. You’re less proud that you came to Luke for help. Just like everyone else does.

“Come,” he gestures, tugging at the waistband of your pants. You scoot closer to him and swallow the weight of your pulse when he touches you. 

Luke slowly presses the ice pack to your black eye, letting you hold it. “What did you do to earn this, anyway?” He asks, head tilted to the side. 

You’re hissing because of the ice, half-consciously shifting into him. “The usual. Spat at him. Made fun of his daddy a little too much. Tripped him so he landed face-first in his offerings.”

“You did not,” Luke laments as he dots alcohol onto a cotton pad. 

“You’re allowed to say you’re proud of me, Saint Castellan. I won’t tell. You can be mean.” Your voice drips with irony, and you hope it bothers him. The flex in his jaw gives it away. 

“You’re always gonna be meaner,” is all he says back. “This is gonna hurt.”

It’s all the warning he gives before he presses the pad against your lip. The sting envelops you immediately, and your good eye squeezes shut. “Shit, ow!” 

“Stop moving your mouth.”

“Fuck,” you swear anyway. Your lip burns so hard you can feel it in your teeth. 

Luke holds your jaw with his other hand so you can’t shy away. “I’ll kiss it better,” he teases. “Almost done.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke takes the pad off a few moments later. “Serious question. How are you so awful to people all the time?”

A groan tears through your throat with such force your head tilts back. “Not you too! I don’t need a fucking reason, there is no reason. Why doesn’t anyone get that?” 

“I’m not asking why. I’m asking how.”

He’s oddly serious, the caress of his thumb on your cheek far slower. You hate it when people want a reason why you’re like this, just to help them sleep at night. But from the bags lining Luke’s eyes, sleep doesn’t seem to be on his radar. 

“I just don’t care,” you admit, shrugging. “I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about what they can do to me. I don’t care about anything.”

“…What about the Gods?”

It makes you cock your head. “Huh?”

“You wouldn’t care about them, either?”

You think, but only about which words to use. “No,” you decide, “They don’t scare me. They’re nothing. What are they gonna do to me?”

Luke snorts, almost nervously. “Uh, punish you for saying that, for one.”

You turn back to him, ice pack leaving your eye as you gesture. “How? By killing me? Pecking out my eyeballs? Burning me alive? I’m telling you, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. It’s all just nothing to me. I’m fucking unpunishable, I’d like to see them try.” 

Huffing, you look back up at the firmament of stars. Luke says nothing. 

The grass rustles as he shifts, and his mouth ghosts over the bruise on your eye. “Unpunishable,” he murmurs, like he’s testing it out. Then he places an uncharacteristically gentle kiss just beneath your eye. And another just above. “We’ll see about that.”

You get that feeling again, the unbearable lightness in a place it shouldn’t be. Mixed with the poison lodged in your heart. 

Luke kisses you, still so delicate that you wonder if he’s been body-snatched. If anything, your bleeding lip feels soothed against his. His hands cradle your face with no ferocity at all. It seems wrong. 

“How do you feel?” He asks after pulling away, dark eyes nebulous and wide. The night usually sharpens his features. Now, they’ve been hushed.

“Um, better,” you reply. 

He hums, laying a slow trail of kisses on your jaw. “Did you at least get the other guy?” He asks between kisses. “Like, did you hurt him?”

“Not really,” you divulge, wondering if you should feel shame. 

“Why?” He’s made his way to your neck now, nudging your jaw up so he can kiss behind your ear. 

“I’m not a fighter.” And, without warning, for a reason you will never, ever be able to explain, your tongue adds, “I’m a killer.”

Your own brows furrow. Luke pauses for a moment, but knocks his nose against your neck. “Guess one of us has to be.”

There’s no more fooling around. No snappy insults, no feverish kisses, no hunger to be satiated. Luke just checks you over a few more times, hides his med kit, and you both get up to sleep. But his hand wraps around your wrist, far less firm than when he dragged you here. “Stay in my bunk, heathen,” he offers. “Leave in the morning.”

You think you’re making a mistake when you agree, but it doesn’t feel like one. 

The next day, after you’ve left Luke’s bunk, rumours float around camp that Luke Castellan accidentally butted some Apollo kid in the face with his sword during training. Caused a bloody, broken nose. Luke was very sorry, apologized profusely. 

But you know, by the way he takes you behind the stables that night, that he didn’t mean a single damn word.

luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz

rotten taglist: @thaliagracesgf

leave a pm/comment/ask if you'd like to be added to a taglist :)

[star-girl69]

I Can See You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you and clarisse work together to get revenge on a mutual enemy, but when that plan involves pretending to date clarisse, something better than revenge happens. requested by anonymous!

a/n: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE HOLY FRICK. the beginning is so bad and just like worldbuilding but i PROMISE!!!!! keep reading!!!!!! pls ignore the fact im reusing jackie and tyla i’m attached to them anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

I Can See You - Taylor Swift

(also Dress by tay was the original title soooo…..)

warnings: not proofread, the beginning is so bad i swear it gets better, a little suggestive haha…., kissing ofc, fake dating!!!!!!!!!, JEALOUS CLARISSE JEALOUS CLARISSE I REPEAT JEALOUS CLARISSE!!!!!!!, swearing, violence, mentions of murder!, protective clarisse the loml, ALCOHOL!!!!! reader gets drunk, allusions to sex, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT please be VERY careful, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“What the hell are you all doing?”

You had waited until nighttime for a reason, for the light of the full moon and hopefully some peace. You and your siblings looked up at the voice.

Xavier Bones was possibly the rudest and most self-centered person you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. His father was Ares, which made sense, seeing as he had a wicked temper and was strong as shit. Most of the kids from the Ares cabin could probably snap you like a stick if they wanted, but what scares you about Xavier is that he might actually do it.

He’s rude to everyone he sees, but he particularly has it out for the Aphrodite cabin. Just because Aphrodite kids didn’t have skill in battle like Ares kids, or aren’t wicked smart like Athena kids doesn’t mean they’re worthless. Xavier just didn’t understand anything except brute force.

He didn’t understand any other kind of power.

The whole reason you’re out here tonight is to finally finish the potion you’ve been making. Amokinesis was strictly a spoken sort of magic, and it was hard to do it to more than one person. But, you and your siblings had decided that maybe you could try and follow in the steps of sorceresses like Medea and Circe, using spelled objects and potions to execute your power. You had been collaborating with a Hecate kid for weeks now, learning everything you could about potion making until you were finally ready to try and make a simple truth potion- love and desire also opened the door to truth.

Aster, the daughter of Hecate who had been helping you, said it was a relatively easy first timer potion and hopefully with your Amokinesis it would come together.

You look up at Xavier, watching as he smiles in disbelief.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re trying to make some sort of love potion, huh?” He sits down at the picnic table, curiously leaning in to look at it.

“Get back,” Jackie, your sibling, hisses waving her hand at him so he’ll back up.

“Okay, okay,” he smiles, some glint in his eyes. He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re wasting all this time, seeing as it probably won’t work.”

“Shut up, Xavier,” you sighed. You needed this bad. You needed to prove to everyone that love wasn’t a stupid power. You were so sick of Xavier, of everyone and their treatment of the Aphrodite cabin. Jackie wanted so desperately to learn how to use a spear, but no one would pay enough attention to her.

You need this.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice?”

You opt to ignore him.

“Hm, okay, definitely not nice. Good thing I’m not either.”

He spits his gum out and drops it straight into the cauldron.

“Fucking bitch!” Jackie screams, Tyla looks like she’s about to cry, and the wooden spoon you’re holding in your hands is about to crack under the pressure.

The potion changes an odd color, a murky brown.

“Oops,” he says.

He laughs and walks away, and you faintly wonder what happened to him to make him so cruel.

—-

The next morning you’re all stewing silently at breakfast. Jackie is glaring daggers at the Ares table, Tyla is ranting about how you need to get all the ingredients again, and you’re trying to listen and join Jackie at staring maliciously.

“I’m gonna murder him, I think.”

“I’ll help,” you murmur, favoring staring at your hands instead of being caught staring at him.

“Do you think Clarisse will let me borrow her spear? How much would that sting, getting killed by one of your Dad’s weapons, huh?”

“She probably would,” Tyla mumbles. “She hates him too, ever since he beat her sparring.”

You resist the urge to scoff. You were there that day, and Xavier had played dirty.

They were sparring, she was winning, when he suddenly pointed behind her and shouted that Ares was there. Of course, everyone had turned to look, and he had disarmed her and kicked her down while she was distracted.

Of course, the next day he was walking around sporting a black eye, but Clarisse had never lived that day down. Xavier had never lived that down, either, exactly why they’re sitting on opposite ends of the table now.

Jackie stares off into the distance. She lets out a small laugh.

“I have a horrible idea.”

“What if we make Xavier fall in love with one of us, right?”

You and Tyla both gag.

“Wait, wait! But then we just lead him on, and maybe Clarisse will do us a favor and pretend to date-”

Tyla snorts. “She would never do that.”

You remember seeing the anger on her face that day. The rage, really, the betrayal. But you remember seeing the sadness too. A part of her had really thought Ares was gonna be there. You remember feeling so, so bad for her.

No one should deserve to feel like that, but it comes with the territory of being a demigod.

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?”

Tyla and Jackie stare at you like you’ve just cursed out Hades.

“I’ll do it. Tyla, no offense, but I think you’d crack under the pressure. And Jacks, you would just start punching him.”

“Yeah,” Tyla murmurs.

“I would,” Jackie agrees.

“I mean, it might actually work.”

—-

You corner her the next day.

She’s outside her cabin, practicing some spear forms when you walk over to her. This is all moving so fast, but you can’t help the fact that revenge is so fun. Why wait when you can get it now?

Revenge is supposed to be served best cold, but you’ve always been a little too handsy, a little too greedy for your own good. You want revenge and you want it now.

“Clarisse, hi.” You smile, she spares you a glance and doesn’t say anything. “I’m Y/N, you don’t know me but I was wondering if I could ask you for a favor.”

The spear stops in mid air. She moves from a offensive position to a standing position, and she looks you up and down so painfully slow that you think your organs are gonna burst.

“What?”

“So, you know Xavier?” you sit down on the picnic bench behind you. “I’m sure you know him, and I’m sure you know that he’s an asshole. He ruined something me and my siblings were doing, and he’s been so rude to all Aphrodite kids for so long so, we just wanna get him back.

She squints at you. “How?”

“We’re gonna use our amokinesis to make him fall in love with me, then maybe, hopefully, we can fake date to make him lose his mind.”

She stares at you blankly for a second. Your heart drops, oh, Gods, you never should have done this.

You’re gonna be the laughingstock of camp.

“‘Cause, you know, you both hate each others guts. And if he’s in love with me, but then he sees you and me together- it was this whole thing about making him see the power of love, you know, ‘cause like-”

She grabs you by your cheeks, pinching your face together, your lips puffing out.

“You can stop rambling, now.” She smiles in a demeaning way, and you would feel insulted if the way she wasn’t gripping your face right now wasn’t addicting. “I actually think it’s a pretty great plan. Surprising, but, whatever.”

You ignore that.

“So, you’ll do it?”

“When are you gonna spell him?”

“As soon as possible, tonight, at the bonfire.”

“Okay,” she nods, thinking to herself. “Come meet me before you do it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Clarisse La Rue touched your face. Clarisse touched your face, and you really fucking liked it.

—-

The three of you sit by the edge of the bonfire. You locked eyes with Clarisse a few minutes ago, letting her know you’re here.

Tyla fusses with your hair, even though you all spent an hour making everything about you perfect. It would be nice to look hot if you were gonna make him fall in love with you.

You watch as she makes her way towards the bathrooms.

Her golden skin shines in the light of the fire, she adjusts her shirt, and you swear you see her abs just under the orange fabric-

“Clarisse is pretty, isn’t she?” Tyla says. “I mean, I almost wish I was the one fake dating her.”

And she is. She is so painfully pretty.

“I’ll tell you all about it,” you wink.

When you step into the bathroom, Clarisse locks the door behind you. You turn around and she’s there. She looks you up and down. You can’t make out the look on her face.

“You’re really trying to impress him, huh?” she smirks. You ignore that.

The ceiling is low in here, so you walk to the corner and reach up at the loose board. You slide it over, reaching inside and grabbing the small bag.

Aphrodite kid secret- makeup is hidden everywhere around camp.

She stares at you. “Has that always been up there?”

You go to the mirror, taking out the mascara and applying another layer.

“Uh… yeah.”

She leans against the wall next to the mirror, watching you with such an intensity it’s like you’re the one beautiful thing in some bloody war she can’t take her eyes away from.

“We should probably set some ground rules,” you say. She hums. “This will probably only be for a month or so.”

“That’s fine.”

You stare pointedly at yourself in the mirror. You, Jacks and Tyla had dumped almost all of your plates into the offerings fire at lunch, hoping for good luck from Aphrodite. With the way your skin seems to glow, your makeup flawless, it seems she’s pleased by your offerings.

Maybe her and Ares are having a fight up on Olympus, and she’s itching to see him knocked down a peg, however vicariously through someone else.

“Well, you can do whatever you want to me.”

“I- what?” you blink, staring at Clarisse like she just turned into a cyclops.

“You can kiss me, hug me, whatever. I mean, we should really do this if we’re gonna do it. Sell it, or whatever.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you can do whatever too.”

Clarisse can touch you wherever she wants.

You look up discreetly. Please, Mom, you think. Don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue.

It’s fine to admit to yourself that you’d like to jump on top of her, but she’s still an Ares kid. She’s a bully, if you’re being honest. But can you say that you’re not one too after this?

Love can burn down cities, love can start wars, love can end them. Love is always there from the beginning of your life to your beginning. The doctor who delivered you loves their career. The woman who makes flower arrangement for your funeral loves flowers, even if she hates making them for funerals.

Love is always there, and when it’s used as a weapon you know it is one of the deadliest things.

But you’re too deep in this now.

She walks around so she’s standing behind you, adjusting her hair in the mirror.

She puts her hand on your hip. You take a deep breath, you pretend. You pretend so hard it might become real.

She smiles brightly in the mirror. “See you out there, baby.”

—-

You pull your top down. That’s the easiest way to get a man to look at you. Pull your top down. You get a few looks as you move through the tree trunk benches, careful that you don’t accidentally trip, because that would completely fuck up the plan.

There’s a part of you that comes from your mother. The part that some may call vain, but how is it your fault to enjoy the attention that other people are giving you? It’s not your fault they’re looking. It’s not your fault you look like your mother’s daughter.

You walk a little longer, finally setting your eyes on Xavier, sitting across the fire from Clarisse and her group. You eyes meet hers. She pretends to itch her nose, but you can see the laugh she’s hiding. You take one more deep breath, say one more please to your mother.

“Xavier,” you say. “Can I sit?”

He already seems a little shocked that you’re talking to him on purpose, but he quickly recovers and pushes his friend down the trunk.

You sit, your thigh touching his, folding your hands over your legs.

“I just wanted to say, Xavier, that you were right. The other night… the potion would have failed anyways. Thank you so much for ruining it when you did. Who knows what could have happened? It could have exploded everywhere.”

You laugh, putting your hand on his arm. He looks up at you, mouth slightly parted.

You said his name twice and he’s already sucked in.

“Really, Xavier, thank you.” You smile softly, looking at his lips before back up to his eyes.

His hand lands on your knee.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

You watch Jackie walk by. He doesn’t hear her whisper. But you see it in his eyes.

You pretend to blush, brushing your hand down his arm before it lands back in your own lap. He leans in closer, until his lips are brushing your ear.

“Why don’t I give you some more things to be thankful for?”

Tyla walks by. He doesn’t hear her whisper either.

“Oh, I should really get back to Clarisse. Sorry, Xavier,”

His hand tightens on your knee and he pulls back.

“C-Clarisse? What would you be doing with her?”

You feign innocence. “Well, she’s my girlfriend. I do a lot of things with her,” you giggle. “I just wanted to thank you, but I should get going. Bye, Xavier!”

You blow him a kiss as you stand up, and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes right along with the blazing rage. You can feel him stare as you walk away, hips swaying.

Clarisse is still trying to hide her laugh when you start walking over to her. The tree trunk around her is all full of people, and a few more are even on the ground.

You stand in front of her, smiling softly.

“Are you not gonna let your girlfriend sit down?”

“Of course I am.”

She leans back and pats her knee. She draws you forward by wrapping her big hand around your hip. When you sit down, she rests her hand flat against your stomach, pressing you right to her. Her other hand rests on your thigh.

Please, Mom, don’t let me fall in love with Clarisse La Rue. Don’t let me like her touching me like this.

Everyone is staring.

It’s exhilarating.

You twist your face into something serious, trying not to break out into a fit of embarrassing giggles.

Her breath tickles your neck.

“I gotta admit, you little witch, that was impressive.”

You smile and place your hand over hers.

“I know.”

—-

The day after the bonfire, everybody at camp is talking about you and Clarisse.

How long have they been dating? Why did they decide to become public now? I swear I saw Y/N and Xavier getting close, though, what happened?

You’ve been trying not to break out laughing all morning. During breakfast you blew Clarisse a kiss and heard one of your siblings gasp dramatically and mumble about how sweet young love is.

Jackie and Tyla made paper hearts for you during arts n’ crafts, talking loudly about how you were such a lovesick little thing. You know Xavier heard about all of those things, because he stares at you every chance he gets and glares at Clarisse at the same time.

You keep exchanging subtle glances with her, small smiles, secrets in between your gazes. It’s nice to have something like this.

After dinner, the two of you go to the woods to pretend like you’re having a secret date. Clarisse brings her spear and you bring a blanket.

You’ve been laying there comfortably for a while, arms under your head like a pillow.

“I wanna know how you did it,” she says, turning her spear in her hands. You open one eye to look at her.

“I say his name a bunch of times. With, like, a lot of intention. Then Jackie and Tyla came by and whispered “you’re in love with the girl in front of you” and other stuff like that. It’s hard to explain. It’s just, like, this power.”

“I was imagining, like, one of those mortal movies, you know? A potion, or something.”

“Oh, we’re trying that too. Medea used her amokinesis in the form of potions and spelled objects, so me, Jackie, and Tyla have been talking to Aster, who’s a child of Hecate, and we tried to make a truth potion.” You laugh, thinking of that night. “That’s why we’re doing this, actually. Xavier found us and stuck his gum in it, so… completely ruined. We have to wait for the next full moon and get all the ingredients. It sucks, whatever, I guess.”

She listened intently the entire time you were talking. Aphrodite kids are always jumping from one thing to another. Clarisse is so focused and single-minded. It feels good to be the center of just one person’s attention. Not having people look at you, but just one person look at you.

“Every time I see him I think about stabbing him 20 times. Now I’ll think about sticking gum in his ear, too.” She turns to you and smiles.

None of that stupid smirking shit she always does, or those over-exaggerated demeaning smiles, she really smiles at you.

Her smile is really pretty.

You laugh along with her after a second.

“I would love to see that,” you murmur, propping yourself up on your forearms. “What really made you agree to do this? I mean, I know you guys surface level hate each other but, come on, I was just rambling and you were all ‘let’s do it’.”

“I hate him,” she shrugs. “Why do you care, anyways? You got what you wanted. Enjoy my beautiful self while it lasts.”

“Yeah, okay,” you chuckle.

You don’t leave until the stars come out.

—-

The second day after the bonfire, Clarisse invites you to sit with her at lunch. Usually, you’re supposed to stay at your cabin tables, but Chiron is busy all day and no one would snitch on Clarisse.

You walk over with your tray in hand, watching as she whispers something to her siblings. You smile at them before she pats the seat next to her.

“Hey,” the boy next to you greets. “I’m Matty.”

He points to the girl across from him. “That’s Marjorie,” he points to the other boy with dark skin across from Clarisse, “That’s Daniel,” and finally your eyes land on the blonde girl sitting across from you.

“I’m Sarah,” she smiles. She seems nice, at least. So does Matty. The rest just seem sort of standoffish. There’s a scuffle under the table, then Daniel glares at Clarisse.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

Matty is sickly sweet nice, handsome too, and you almost wonder if he’s really a child of Ares. But he’s got that same focus like Clarisse.

He asks you questions and listens to your answers.

He had the bad stroke of fate in accidentally getting you going about your experiments in potions and amokinesis, and you find yourself shuffling closer to him.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “I’ll stop torturing you now.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I love a passionate person.”

You weren’t sure if he meant that to be flirting.

Usually you’re good at picking up these things, all Aphrodite kids have a knack for it, but you think he’s just really nice.

You stare at him, tilting your head to the side when Clarisse suddenly grabs your waist and pulls you closer to her. Her breath tickles your neck, just like the bonfire.

“You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, not his,” she whispers, her chin resting against your shoulder.

You roll your eyes. “Am I not allowed to have a conversation?”

“Not when he’s looking.” You spare a quick glance. Xavier is looking at you, a mix between glaring and starting longingly.

“He looks like a cross-eyed dog,” you giggle.

And to your surprise, Clarisse presses her face into your shoulder to muffle her laugh.

—-

All the time you spend with Clarisse is like some stupid board game you play with Tyla and Jackie when there’s nothing else to do. Jenga. That one where you crack the ice and try not to make the polar ball fall.

The games where you chip it away slowly, one by one, wondering if this time will be the time that it falls, if you’ll be the one to lose the game.

You push a little more each time with Clarisse. Each conversation, you learn a little more, you chip away a few of her walls.

It’s addicting to open her up slowly, to get to know her like this. And when it’s just you and her alone, when Xavier isn’t around to torture, you swear it doesn’t feel fake.

—-

The eighth day after the bonfire, you skip arts n’ crafts to follow Clarisse to the archery range.

While the Apollo kids have all that effortless, natural skill with archery, Ares kids are still deadly. You faintly remember seeing Clarisse shoot once. Even though it’s not her weapon of choice, her aim was deadly and she didn’t miss one shot.

You’re okay with a bow.

Clarisse sees the perfect opportunity to flaunt in front of Xavier.

As soon as you crest the hill, your eyes find his, and he beelines towards you.

“Y/N, sweetheart, what can I do for you?”

It’s easy to switch on that stereotypical persona. You twist your fingers into your shirt.

“Yeah, can you help me?” you look up at him, trying to be as disgustingly sweet as you can,

“What’d you need?” he takes a step closer, about to cage you in between him and the cart full of bows and arrows.

“Can you help me pick out a bow? I don’t know what one would be right for me, I don’t know anything about archery. Please?”

He reaches past you, coming close so your back hits the wooden cart. You can’t help the way your eyes widen. He’s bold, you’ll give him that. Everyone reacts differently under the spell, but their true personalities still shine through.

He picks one up, running his hand up and down the curved wood. He plucks at the string, nodding to himself.

“This one’s fit for a lady.”

You take it, fingertips brushing his. “Oh, thank you so much, Xavier.” You give him a small side hug as you run past him, eager to get away from him.

You just need to find Clarisse.

“Hey, don’t you need some help shooting?” you glance over your shoulder, watching him advance.

Where the hell is Clarisse?

You’re about to say you’re fine when you suddenly slide into someone’s arms. You would have slammed into her, if not for the way Clarisse softly reached out to touch your arm, and Gods, you recognize the feel of her skin.

You knew she was there and you gratefully walked forward, your chests touching, her arm around your shoulders.

“I’ll take it from here, Xavier.”

You look up at her. She’s smiling in that same demeaning way.

You’ve grown to like it.

He doesn’t say anything else. You hear him stomp off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. When you open your eyes after a moment, you realize how close you are.

You’re so close it’s just one move and that’s it. One move and you both know that’ll change it all.

You think she just worked out. You can feel the muscles of her arm against you, you can see the sweat on her hairline, you can see her breathing heavily.

You could just press your ear to her chest and feel everything.

The way her brown eyes reflect the sunshine is mesmerizing. You’ve been looking at her for so long, but it’s like you’re looking into the surface of a lake you swear you recognize, slightly green murky waters, but there was a whole world under the surface if you cared to look.

But you didn’t care to look for the Clarisse under the surface. You don’t care. You don’t want to.

She clears her throat and let’s go of you.

You back up.

“Put that thing down, he probably fucking poisoned it.”

You turn the bow in your hands, but when you look up, she’s already walking towards the far end of the field.

“Wait, wait, what am I gonna use then?”

“Mine, obviously.” You drop the bow.

—-

After taking a few deep breaths, and Clarisse going over the basics again, you filled your mind with images of a bow and arrow and not of her eyes. Not of her lips.

Clarisse La Rue hates Aphrodite kids too, just not as much as Xavier, and not enough to resist revenge.

You focus on that. That’s why you’re here. Revenge.

Revenge for every fucked up thing he’s said, revenge for every time he’s come too hard at you during capture the flag, revenge for all of your siblings and everyone he’s ever tortured.

“Ok, there, that’s a good stance.” She’s raking her eyes up and down your body. But you’re here for revenge. She glanced over her shoulder. “Except for…”

She presses her body to yours from behind, molding against you like she was made to protect you like this, her hand covering yours, her stance just a little wider. She glides her hand across your arm.

“Up, up, just a little.” She’s whispering right into your ear. You let her hands guide you. Your mouth feels dry. “Then let go.”

And how badly you want to let go. You want to let go of these feelings rolling around in your stomach like stones, you want to let go and let them become butterflies and fall into Clarisse.

You prayed to your mother not to fall in love with her, but maybe you should trust your mom. Maybe you should let go.

But you don’t.

You let go of the arrow instead, you keep your tumbling feelings inside, and to your shock you only hit a few inches from the bullseye.

The bow swings in your hand.

“Holy shit. Did I- did I just do that?”

Clarisse laughs. “You did, baby.”

You turn around and throw your arms around her neck, smiling wide and laughing hysterically. The bow was the one weapon you thought you could never master, and here you are after one lesson with Clarisse.

She wraps her arms around your waist, and even though you’ve hugged like this a million times, you both know it’s different this time. And you both ignore it.

But for one second, you’re pretending so hard it’s almost real. It’s almost a real date.

—-

On the ninth day, it all goes to shit.

Sword practice is held just after lunch, when the sun is still high in the sky. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins share the field first, and you, Jackie and Tyla take your time stretching to enjoy the show.

Tyla has to turn around to hide her laugh as you bend over slowly, making sure Xavier is watching, then when you face comes up flushed you smile at him. He smiles back.

You wave to Clarisse and he glares at her.

Jackie says it will take him 5 minutes to ask her to spar. Tyla says 5 too. You say it’ll take him maybe 3 minutes.

He spars with one person, a two minute match, then marched right up to Clarisse.

“How about we go, huh? Want another chance to try and beat me?”

Clarisse was smiling before he walked over, talking to her friends. Her smile fades and is replaced by the dark mask of pure focus.

“I’d love to beat you, Xavier.”

She walks past you to grab a sword from the rack.

Her eyes meet yours. You reach out and put your hand on her face, softly pressing her lips against yours. It’s a peck. It’s barely there. At least now you can check off a box and say you’ve kissed Clarisse La Rue.

She seems so shocked that you’ve actually kissed her you swear she loses her footing for a second. You swear her cheeks are a little flushed. By she stands up taller and ignores it, just like you’ve both been doing for so long.

“Good luck, baby!” you call as she walks off to the circle marked off for sparring.

Xavier looks like he’s about to light the grass on fire.

“She’s gonna beat his ass,” Jackie whispers.

“If he loses, do you think I should comfort him after?”

“Oh, Gods, yes,” Tyla smiles. “That’s so mean. We’re so mean.” It feels too good to stop.

Kissing Clarisse almost felt too good to stop. Even that second, one more longer and you would have been sucked in. You decide not to kiss her for however long this goes on.

Once you start kissing her, you’re scared you’ll never stop.

Revenge feels to good, and you need this.

As soon as they face each other Xavier springs out with a million offensive attacks, slightly sloppy- you can see his anger. Everyone knows you can’t let your emotion get in the way of battle.

Clarisse is calm and counters all his attacks. She even smiles, which makes your stomach flip in a way that isn’t fake.

Her sword flicks along his cheek. It’s a paper cut, barely.

“Oh no,” Clarisse fake frets. “You need me to walk you to the nurse?”

He grunts and launches an attack that’s just plain stupid. It’s messy. He swings too wide. She knocks his sword out of his hand.

He goes to dive for it but her sword is already at his neck.

He breathes heavily, staring at her, and it’s suddenly dead quiet. No more talking, no more swords clanging.

Your eyes are flicking in between them like a ball bouncing up and down. But they linger on Clarisse. Of course they linger on Clarisse.

It’s so quiet you swear you can hear her heartbeat.

“Daddy’s behind you,” he whispers.

She whips around, taking her sword with her, but no one is there. Of course no one is there.

Xavier runs away laughing, and Clarisse turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, she’s gripping the hand of the sword so tight you’re surprised it hasn’t broken off.

Clarisse is not your girlfriend. Clarisse is not even your friend.

But she’s someone, she’s someone to you, and you can’t stand to see her like this.

You walk forward and put your hand on her wrist, taking the sword from her. You’re not even in control of your arms and legs.

She stares pointedly at the distance.

“Let’s go,” you whisper, giving her no choice and pulling her along. You throw the sword at the rack.

—-

You end up in Clarisse’s cabin, door clicking shut behind you as you press your back to it. She stays silent for a moment, until she screams and throws someone’s pillow at the wall. You don’t say anything.

You don’t say anything but you follow her to her bed.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, watching as she sits down, fists clenched so tight you hope she isn’t bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Clarisse.”

“You weren’t the one who fell for it. You weren’t the one who fell for that stupid, stupid, childish trick. I did.”

“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for us and our plan. If it wasn’t for me.”

You sit down on the bed next to hers.

“Why are you even here? We’re not actually dating, dummy. You can go.”

“I know,” you murmur. You know. You know you aren’t dating. You know you shouldn’t be here. “But you’re still something, Clarisse.”

She slips off her armor.

“I’m not something to you.”

She wants someone else to hurt like she does. She wants someone else to take the fall, to be embarrassed and the center of everyone’s attention so she doesn’t have to.

“I’ll never be something to you, Y/N, just- just go away. This is over, I’m not doing it anymore.”

“Yeah, okay,” you mutter. There’s something wet in your eyes and your throat tightens up. “That’s fine.”

You leave silently and you cry in the woods.

—-

When you finally make your way back to your cabin at nightfall, everyone is fussing around you. Your hair’s messy, mascara streams down your face, your shirt is wet with tears.

“Where have you been?” one of your brothers asks, and the rest of your siblings echo the sentiment.

Tyla doesn’t say anything when she sees you. She just wraps her arms around you. Jackie stands just behind her, eyes locking with yours. She knows. She doesn’t move. She can see it on your face, she can see it in your eyes.

Aphrodite children are predisposed to fall in love fast and hard. You’ve all gathered around your siblings time and time again when their hearts inevitably got broken.

No one wants to date an Aphrodite kid. Not really.

They all think you’re vain and self-centered. They all think you’re weak and useless.

When it comes down to it, that’s what you are.

How can you claim to wield the power of love when it brings you to your knees too?

You thought Clarisse was hot. You thought you could leave it at that. You thought you could pretend, you thought you could ignore it.

But the more you think about it, the more tears fall down your face, the more you realize you were ignoring the wrong thing. You spent so much time trying not to want Clarisse you forgot that she doesn’t even want you. It stings, like a knife in the chest, it hurts to know you’re making it all up.

But it was always pretend. It was always fake. That’s what fake dating is. The Aphrodite side of you just forgot that you couldn’t find comfort in her arms, you couldn’t memorize the feel of her skin, you couldn’t hear the sound of her heartbeat and pretended it beat for you.

You look up at the sky and you want to curse your mother. You want to know why she has abandoned you. But in your heart, you know she hasn’t abandoned you. The Goddess of Love is right next to you, and this is what it feels like.

Knives in your heart. Memories of heartbeats, memories of skin, memories of soft voices and secrets and the feeling that something was yours, something was quiet and shared.

“Y/N,” Jackie breathes.

The words hurt. You say them anyways.

“I fucked up,” you sob. “I fucked up, Jackie. She doesn’t- she won’t, she never will-”

“Y/N,” Tyla coos.

“I fell in love. I fell in love, and it’s over.”

—-

You give up on wearing makeup. The sadness still seeps through your face, and you end up crying most of it off anyways. A few of your hoodies are just permanently stained with mascara with how much you cried. The tears stream down your face and carry the little black specks with it.

You try to visualize everything you feel leaving with the black specks. The love, the anger, the sadness, the regret. But it doesn’t leave, and you’re too tired of trying to hide from it.

Everyone thinks you miserably broke up, and it’s mortifying to know that Clarisse knows you’re like this, she knows you’re absolutely ruined over this- and it was never even real.

You keep telling yourself that. It was fake. It was never real.

But it feels real, the memories feel real. You know they happened, you know Clarisse touched you so often it’s like you’re burned with it. You say she had to have felt it to, because the more you remember the more you remember the electricity, the charge in the air.

But you might just be making that up.

Lunch is the worst time. She’s always so happy at lunch, her and her table laughing loudly. She mentioned to you once, one of those fake star-studded dates in the woods, that she’s always to tired by dinner time because she trains so hard for most of the day.

You stare at her when no one’s looking, and everyone can see you better in the bright light of day- and you can’t look away.

Tyla mumbles that they’re gonna get up to make their offerings, she doesn’t ask if you’re gonna come. You’re probably not even going to eat more than a few bites again.

You’re alone at the stone table.

Xavier sees that as an opportunity.

Love spells are best to break on a full moon. You thought it would go on longer than this, and he’s only become more emboldened by what everyone sees as a breakup.

He sits down next to you, smiling sadly. You prop your head up in your hand.

“Y/N, you sad angel.” His hand grazes your shoulder, you can’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He places a flower in front of you. “To cheer you up.”

“Thanks, Xavier,” you mutter. He stares at you for a moment longer. Jackie comes back, slamming her tray down onto the table.

“Go away, Xavier,” she says, the same thing she says every day. Jackie has this look in her eyes that lets you know she’s ready to jump on you if she has to.

You think he would stop trying, but he can’t. He can’t because of this stupid love spell that ruined everything. And you can’t even take it off of him, not until the full moon.

You wouldn’t feel like this if it wasn’t for that love spell.

—-

There is one a day a year that Chiron turns a blind eye to parties. The summer solstice all of the cabin leaders come together to throw a huge party, mostly centered around the bonfire, food and drinks and even music. It’s the one night a year where you’re allowed to be teenagers, and it’s not taken lightly.

It even makes you feel a little excited.

“So what if all that shit happened?” Tyla asked. “We’re gonna make sure you look as hell at this party, and then you’re gonna go find someone and make out with them in a dark corner. Don’t even look who it is. Just grab the first random person and kiss them.”

“Okay, well, I’m not doing that, but I will do something of the sort. There is definitively some making out on my list tonight.”

“Oh, as long as it’s not with Xavier,” Tyla frets.

Jackie kicks her. “If Y/N makes out with Xavier, I will personally pay Chiron a million dollars to feed both of them to some horrible monster.”

“Supportive,” you muse.

Jackie gasps. “I forgot about this dress.”

“For which one of us?” Tyla asks.

Jackie turns around, holding up the back dress. It’s sparkly, a slit up the side, going just to your knees. It’s ruffled at the chest, thin spaghetti straps for the top. You can’t wear it. It’s too much, too revealing.

You look around the room.

Most of your siblings are wearing worse.

And you need to get your mind off her.

“I’m wearing that.”

Tyla squeals and Jackie lays it out on your bed.

You’ll forget about her tonight, you promise yourself.

—-

The bonfire burns high and bright, and even 20 feet away from it the feeling is burning. It’s so hot you’re glad you wore this barely there grass, it frees up your skin to touch the cool summer air.

You, Tyla and Jackie had gratefully taken a few too many sips of the alcohol someone had managed to sneak in and was now passing around.

Everything is so funny in the firelight.

Tyla’s tall heels keep sinking into the grass, and you keep giggling when your own do the same. You’re all holding onto each other, barely able to stand.

There was more nail polish fumes in the cabin than usual, and you’ll swear on your life that it gets to your head.

“Noooooo,” Tyla moans, sinking yet again into the grass. She gasps, pointing at the logs currently abandoned. “I’ll just walk on those!”

Your heels sink into the dirt.

“Me too,” you say, smiling as you grab Tyla’s hand and begin your ascent. Jackie ran off with an Apollo boy a minute ago, the first of your group to leave.

You grab onto each other, laughing boisterously as you keep almost falling.

“I-I can bare-barely stand!” you shout, giggling as you throw your arms to the sides.

“Me either!” Tyla shouts back. She jumps off, walking between the end of that one to the beginning of the next log.

“Hey, do you think I can jump and make it?”

Tyla judges the maybe 4 foot jump.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m gonna try,” you giggle. “I’m gonna jump!”

“Whoooo!” Tyla shouts, laughing too. This entire night is just about you and your friends and laughter. She starts clapping. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,”

You jump, eyes screwed shut, slamming into something mid air and being brought to the ground.

“Wh-” you mumble, and Tyla let’s out a gasp.

“Are you trying to kill yourself?” Clarisse scolds, her hands quickly falling from your waist.

And, of course, the first instinct of your intoxicated brain is to start screaming.

Clarisse grabs your arm and drags you off, past the light of the fire and into a space between the cabins. She slaps her hand over your mouth and you shut up.

“Are you going to stop being such a baby now?”

She lets go of your face and you immediately stumble forward so she has to catch you, pressing your finger into her chest.

“You, demon, are not my mother! So, I don’t know what you’re doing.”

She laughs, holding you up.

“Oh, you’re drunk.”

“Tipsy,” you correct. “As I was saying, don’t you remember, Clarisse, we will never be something to each other.” You push her away from you, heels sinking into the ground and keeping you upright.

Her face falls.

It’s so dark in here but you’re so close to her you can tell.

“Y/N, I-”

You can’t listen to her talk so softly. Being away from the heat of the fire clears up your brain.

“Where’s Tyla?” her hands fall from your hips. “Tyla?!” you dig you heels out of the mud, finding her sitting on the log, talking animatedly to Matty about something. “Oh,” you mumble.

They’re both so absorbed in each other they don’t hear you. And suddenly, you’re the last one left.

You head to a nearby table and chug a bottle of water, shoving a cupcake into your mouth.

“I’m not gonna be alone tonight,” you mumble to yourself. You look up at the almost full moon. You eyes scan the crowd. Xavier isn’t exactly bad looking, and you just need someone tonight. You need anything.

You don’t know where Clarisse is. You tell yourself you don’t care.

You move through the crowd, adjusting your hair, breathing in and out. You won’t be alone tonight. You won’t.

You spot him sitting off to the side with his friends, the group of them sharing a bottle just like you did.

“Xavier!” you shout. His eyes turn to you immediately. He shoves the bottle into his friends hands, standing up and walking over to you like it was his entire purpose to.

“Y/N,” he eyes you up and down. “You look- you look fucking hot.”

“Thank you. Now, dance with me.”

He follows you, his arm gripped in your hand, you can feel him staring at your ass and you don’t care, dragging him towards the music, towards the dance floor.

His hand is all over your ass, your thigh, your hips, drawing you closer to him as you spin and his other winds it’s way around your face.

He’s not her. You can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about imagining her hands on you.

You put your arms around his neck, dancing in a way that would probably make your mother blush.

When you open your eyes, they’re locked with hers.

She seems to have made her way back to her friends, sitting on a log, leaning against her arm and staring at you. Her hands are clenched the same way they were that day. You can see her, you can see her perfectly and she can see you perfectly. She can see you and him.

Good.

You smile at her, waving the way you would have done to Xavier, except now the roles are reversed. He gets to have you, and she has to watch.

His mouth finds your neck. You laugh, throwing your head back, you don’t imagine her lips there. You just sink into the moment.

When your lips crash against his, there’s nothing except hot, hot desire. Like a blue flame, you’re all teeth and tongue, clashing together in a way that is purely carnal.

His hands are everywhere and you love it. It’s like a game, trying to guess where he’ll go next, and it keeps you so wonderfully distracted.

He tugs at the slit of your dress. You pull away for air.

“N-not here. Not yet.”

His greedy hand remains where it is until you shove it down, laughing lightly.

“Maybe later,” you whisper.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles into your neck. “Just let me…” he spins you two around, his hand slips under your dress, against your bare ass.

“Xavier-” you push at his greedy hand again.

“So, so beautiful, like you’re a witch-”

He’s ripped away from you.

You watch in horror as Clarisse grabs him by the front of his shirt and punches him square in the face.

You start screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs.

Xavier only seems to find it funny.

“You fuckin’ jealous, Clarisse?” he laughs. “Fuckin’ jealous, wonder if he’d be proud of you now, beating up his own son for a daughter of Aphrodite?”

She punches him again. Again.

“Fuckin’ jealous?” he says again, laughing, spitting out blood. “Are you fucking jealous?”

One of her siblings finally grabs her and pulls her away. She shoves them off of her.

“I’ll kill you,” she whispers to him. He doesn’t seem scared at all. You stand there and watch, stupidly, feeling like a bird from the skies watching it all unfold, unable to do anything. “Stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her.”

She looks at you, you faintly realize the music’s stopped.

“Clarisse-”

“She’s not yours!” Xavier laughs from the ground. “The weak Aphrodite girl doesn’t belong to you, that’s gotta sting, Clarisse-”

A love spell only change’s one’s emotions towards a person. Their personalities are the same. They way they behave under a love spell is the same way they’d behave in a regular relationship, except with a lasting relentlessness.

“Shut up, Xavier!” you shout. You’re so sick of him. Sick of his bullshit. He can’t even make out with you without thinking about the next step.

You see it fade from his eyes.

It shouldn’t be.

You watch in horror as the spell falls, you realize this all wasn’t supposed to happen. You were never supposed to actually kiss him.

“Witch,” he mumbles. He was just moaning that against your cheek a minute ago.

He holds his hands to his already red face.

“You’re a fucking witch.”

Everyone is looking at you, for once in your life, you hate it.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you whisper.

Your eyes meet Clarisse’s. You can’t tell what’s on her face. You walk away.

—-

She finds you under the stars. Of course she does. You didn’t know where else to go. Cabin too stuffy. The lake is too far. The only place left is the woods, the spots where you would go with her.

She stands behind you. You can hear her breathing.

“Do you need something?” you mutter.

“I was selfish,” she starts.

You snort. Clarisse La Rue is a lot of things, you’ll be here all night.

“And I was hurt. So I took it out on you, which I really, really regret. You didn’t deserve that and it wasn’t true.”

It wasn’t true.

“Um, I was scared. So I made a decision for the both of us. But I’m not scared anymore.”

You place your hand on the grass next to you.

She sits, you don’t look at each other.

“That was all I had planned, but more has happened, so… uh, I was watching you the entire night, I guess. Not in a creepy way. I mean, you look, that dress… I couldn’t take my eyes away. Then you almost killed yourself on the logs.”

You smile.

“And I touched you again and I just, it was so much. Then you were on the dance floor, and he was all over you and- I was jealous. I was so jealous, like, I was actually about to go insane. And I saw you push his hand away, I saw him do it again, and I…”

“Went insane, berserk, crazy? Lost all proprietary?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “All of that. I’m not gonna apologize for punching the shit out of him. But I am sorry for the things I said.”

“Did you mean it?”

She just seems grateful you’re talking to her.

“Mean what?”

“That it wasn’t true.”

“It wasn’t true.”

You finally look at her. It feels so good to let go. To finally look at her, finally see her.

“I-I was just angry, and I-”

You’re sick of hearing her talk.

It’s nothing like the kiss with Xavier.

Its slow and sweet, heady like syrup, and you feel like you’re sinking beneath the current of some river. Your hands are on her face, she rests hers on your neck.

The kiss was Xavier was pure passion, no love, just bodies and bodies and no thoughts between them. This is all care, this is all slowness, this is all appreciation. It’s faces and faces, singular focus, one intent.

You pull away.

“I was so jealous,” she breathes, like it’s an explanation for the way she grabs you closer, harder, more, kissing you like Xavier did except it’s all erased. You can’t even remember what it feels like for someone else to touch you, let alone kiss you.

It just feels like her. It all feels like her, before her and after her.

When she finally starts to kiss down your neck, it’s so slow again, it’s like she can’t believe you’re in her arms, it’s like she can’t believe she’s got your hands on you. You grab her shoulders, you have her.

You look up towards the sky. Sorry I ever doubted you. Thanks, Mom.

You could see her across from you, you could see her on the dance floor, but now you can see her.

—-

y/n, talking to matty: yes i’m like about to slay amokinesis in a way it has never been slayed before

clarisse, who is NOT catching feelings: what the hell is this bitch doing to my girl

clarisse: ykw… im just gonna…. take her back thank you oh wdym no he’s looking we gotta fake date obvi (clarisse does not care if he’s looking)

—-

y/n, about to fucking die: i’m a bird! i’m jumping!

clarisse: no the fuck you’re not!

—-

clarisse when y/n is dancing in THE DRESS: oh i’m bricked up

—-

clarisse: if this bitch doesn’t get OFF my girl i’m gonna KILL SOMEONE

literally everyone: YOUR girl????

clarisse: nvm i’m just gonna fight him

everyone: not a logical solution???

—-

shoutout to jackie, tyla, and matty the loves of my life COULD NOT DO THIS WITHOUT THEM

also the tyla and matty agenda WILL be pushed

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison

[maysileeewrites]

it looks better on you || Coriolanus Snow

18+ content; mdni!

summary: Coriolanus is obsessed with you wearing his clothes | based off of this concept post

my Coryo masterlist

Coriolanus Snow is positively obsessed with you wearing his clothes.

Whenever he sees you in one of his shirts or sweaters, it’s like he can’t think straight anymore, every single thought wiped from his head - except one: you’re absolutely mesmerizing, somehow even more beautiful and enchanting, wearing his clothes. 

You’re his - and you wearing his clothes is just one more way for him to mark you as his, to show everyone that you belong to him, and only him. 

No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to fuck you. No one else gets to fall asleep next to you, wake up next to you. No one else gets to feel the immense, overwhelming satisfaction that always overcomes him when you’re wearing his clothes. 

No one else - just him. 

As it should be, Coriolanus thinks, smirking as he watches you poring over your University books at your desk from his position on your bed. Initially, he came over to your apartment so that you could study for your test next week together. Though he hasn’t really gotten a lot of actual studying done.

You’re just too damn distracting. 

You always are, but especially now - wearing his shirt and playing with the hem of it while you’re trying to memorize the text you’re currently reading, your other hand absentmindedly running through your hair, your lips silently moving - it’s like he can’t think straight. 

His eyes are fixed on you, following your every move. 

The way you screw your eyes shut as you sigh frustratedly - probably trying to remember a particularly difficult aspect of your textbook article. The way your fingers keep playing with the hem of his shirt. 

Really, he thinks, watching you sigh in frustration and slamming your textbook shot, throwing it a dirty look, his clothes look so good on you - almost better than they do on him. 

„Something wrong, love?“, he asks you, getting up from your bed and walking over to your desk, where you’re still sitting in your desk chair, head in your hands. 

You shake your head, sighing again. „No, it’s just this stupid biochemistry test … I just can’t get the hang of this stuff, which means that I’ll fail that test next week, which will bring my overall grade down and-“

„Hey“, Coriolanus interrupts your nervous ramblings, stepping closer to you and taking your hands in his, gently pulling them away from your face. He squeezes your hands, before bringing up one hand and gently brushing his knuckles over your cheek. 

You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his comforting touch. 

„I know that this is all a bit overwhelming right now, but you won’t fail that test, you hear me? You won’t - I’ll make sure of that. Even if it means that we have to spend every minute this weekend studying.“ 

„But, Coryo-“, you try to say, but he shakes his head, his eyes finding yours. 

„You won’t fail, trust me“, he says, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your hairline. „We’ll continue studying for this, I promise, but right now, you need a break.“ His gentle, yet firm voice tells you that he won’t take an objection for an answer. 

You sigh, even though you know your boyfriend only has your best interests at heart. He can be so stubborn sometimes …

„A distraction …“, he continues, something in his voice changing that causes you to shiver involuntarily as he leans down, stepping between your legs, looking at you with a teasing smirk on his face. 

„What do you-“ 

Your words are swallowed by his hungry, wild kiss. 

You make a surprised noise, wrapping your arms around Coriolanus’s neck out of pure instinct as his hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to him as he keeps kissing you, his tongue coaxing your mouth open. You can’t help but moan as you feel his tongue moving against yours. 

Then, suddenly, he’s picking you up from your chair and you wrap your legs around his waist out of instinct as he carries you over to your bed, not once breaking the kiss. Your back hits your soft mattress and Coriolanus swallows the surprised noise you make with his hungry, desperate kisses. 

He breaks the kiss then, looking down at you with a teasing smirk on his lips, before lowering his head to the crook of your neck, sucking at the soft, sensitive skin. His lips curl into a possessive smirk when he hears the mewling, panting noises you make. 

He knows that he’ll leave bruises on your skin - pretty, purple marks that will mark you as his, showing everyone who you belong to. 

„Coryo!“, you gasp, trying to make sense of the world, tangling your hands in his blonde curls and trying to ground yourself, as he continues to relentlessly suck at your soft skin, all the while grinding his hips into yours, creating a delicious, nerve-wrecking tension. 

His lips leave a trail on your skin, from the soft, sensitive skin of your neck, to your collarbone and then lower and lower, until the hem of his shirt you’re wearing gets in the way. 

Breathlessly, your hands leave his hair and you reach down, trying to free yourself from the bothersome garment, but then suddenly, Coryo’s hands are there as well, stoping your motions. 

„No, keep it on“, Coriolanus says, reaching out with his hands to tug the dark grey shirt you’re currently wearing - one of his that you’ve ‚borrowed‘ - back down. His voice is low, his eyes are dark, the expression in them sinful and challenging - a promise. (A threat.) 

„It looks better on you anyways.“ 

You swallow upon hearing the arrogant possessiveness in his voice and clench your thighs together. 

When he notices, Coriolanus just smirks at you. 

You whine, reaching for his hands. „Please, Coryo“, you beg, your eyes finding his. You can’t have him teasing you - not right now, not when he’s already got you this worked up. 

„Please what?“, he asks, still smirking. 

„Please, just - touch me; just do something, Coryo, please.“ 

When he still doesn’t react to your pleas, just keeps smirking at you, you reach out with one of your hands, brushing over the bulge in his pants, before growing bolder and cupping his already hardened length through the material of his trousers. 

Coriolanus closes his eyes then, a low moan escaping his lips. 

„Fuck.“ 

His voice is something between a groan and a whimper as you keep stroking him through the fabric. 

For a split second you toy with the thought of doing the same thing to him he did to you - teasing him, edging him on, only to cruelly withdraw your touch at the last second. But he looks so good right now, his head thrown back, his eyes screwed shut, his lips slightly open, soft whimpers escaping him, you can’t bring yourself to do so. 

You don’t need to - because the next thing you know, Coriolanus is impatiently swatting your hand away, getting rid of his trousers and briefs in mere seconds, before placing his hands on your waist, shifting you, until you’re straddling his lap, your legs on either side of him, your core brushing against his erection. 

You can’t help the loud moan that escapes you then - the friction feels so good and you just want to feel him inside you already. 

„Coryo-“, you start to say, but his hand is already there at your core, roughly yanking at the thin material of your panties. You hear the material tear and you gasp loudly, when, without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, curling them inside you, immediately finding your sweet spot. 

„Y-you really o-owe me a v-visit to the clothing store“, you pant, trying to form a cohesive sentence as Coriolanus continues to pump his fingers in and out of you at a merciless pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust of his fingers. 

Coriolanus just smirks, groaning when he feels your walls clenching around his fingers. „Fuck, not yet“, he pants, removing his hand and causing you to whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness. „Need to feel you, need to be inside you.“ 

All you can manage is a nod, moaning when he positions you in his lap. You try once again to take of the shirt you’re still wearing, but Coriolanus swats your hands away once again. 

„Keep it on“, he says, his voice low and dangerous. 

All you can manage is a weak nod, because then his grip on your waist is tightening, shifting you forward even more until you’re sinking down on his hard length. 

„Fuck, Coryo.“ Your voice is nothing more than a breathless whimper as you continue to sink down on him, trying to adjust to the stretch. 

Coriolanus however, is too impatient to give you time to adjust, bucking up his hips to thrust up into you the moment you’re fully seated. 

You whimper, feeling his cock hit that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 

Coriolanus groans, his grip on your waist tightening to guide your movements as he continues to thrust up into you. „Fuck, baby, you look so good riding my cock like that, wearing my shirt …“

You whimper, squeezing your walls around him. 

Coriolanus groans again, his expression clouded with pleasure. „Fuck, keep doing that and I’m not going to last long …“ 

You can’t help it - your walls squeeze around him again. 

A strangled moan escapes him then and you whimper when his thrusts get harder and faster and one of his hands finds its way to your core, brushing over the bundle of sensitive nerves. 

„Fuck- Coryo, please“, you whimper, as the pressure inside you keeps building and building and building. 

„Don’t worry, I’ve got you“, he says, as he continues to thrust into you at a relentless pace, his fingers teasing your clit. 

You do your best to meet his movements with your own, glad for his bruising grip on your hip, guiding your movements. 

„Just like that, you’re doing so good“, Coriolanus praises, sitting up to claim your lips in a hungry kiss. 

You whimper, overcome by all these different sensations - Coriolanus moving unrelentlessly inside you, his fingers on your clit, his lips on yours; turning you to mush in his arms. 

„Coryo!“, you breathlessly try to warn him when you feel your walls clenching around him again, you’re so close and you just want to feel your sweet release. 

„I’ve got you“, he repeats his earlier sentiment, his thrusts becoming even more erratic. „I’ve got you - fuck, you look so good, I could watch you riding me in my clothes forever, fuck-“

It’s his words that do you in, sending you over the edge. 

You come with a loud cry, his name on your lips, shaking in his grip, your walls squeezing him. 

„Fuck, fuck-“

It only takes two more thrusts and then Coriolanus is coming as well, spilling inside you. 

„Fuck, Coryo“, you whimper, still overly sensitive from your orgasm. 

„I’ve got you“, he repeats, pulling out of you, before closing his arms around you, shifting you around until your head lands on his chest and your back hits the soft mattress of the bed. 

You close your eyes as he settles a hand on your stomach, drawing you even closer for a moment. 

You stay like that for a long moment, both of you trying to catch your breath. 

Once you’ve calmed down enough, you notice how unbearably hot you feel - Coriolanus’s body heat is more than warm enough, but you’re still wearing his shirt that’s now drenched through with your sweat. 

You press a quick kiss to his cheek, ignoring the protesting noise Coriolanus makes as you move to sit up again. 

„My turn“, is all you say, as you finally take off his shirt and throw it to the floor, baring your chest to him. 

„What-“ Coriolanus’s remark is swallowed by the loud moan that escapes his lips when you settle back down in his lap, brushing against his erection. 

„My turn“, you repeat, grinning, „and I think it looks better on the floor.“ 

You swallow his reply with a hungry, desperate kiss. And judging by the way he’s squirming beneath you, trying to brush against your core, he probably doesn’t mind too much. 

someone please get me some holy water so I can cleanse my mind from these smutty thoughts

It’s finally here!! Sorry that it took me so long to get to it, but I’ve been in quite a writing slump these last few days.

Anyways, I’m wishing you all a Happy New Year <3 and thank you so much for all the love you’ve shown my writing lately! Here’s to more content in 2024!! :)

tagging:

@qoopeeya @honey-flustered @spectr3inl0ve @reader-bookling123 @itsnocturna @toogardenheart @theamuz @livius-codex @dominqueeekk @ebsmind @damagdcoda @snows-wife

[redocity]

Well, we know that Buck thrives off of praise. So imagine him during sex!!! God he'd be a whimpering mess, and just begging you for everything and anything oml

LIBIDO — E.BUCKLEY

Buck’s a sex freak.

evan buckley x fem!reader | 1.4k | smut | masterlist.

WARNINGS | this post is 18+, MDNI. kitchen sex (bc buck is a freak), unprotected piv (freak buckley), begging + mild praise kink (buck obviously bc freak), buck eats his own cum off his fingers (freakkkk), buck is just a sex fiend what can i say?

a/n — this is kinda mid, sorry 😔

You had half the mind to submit Buck’s libido as an object of study to Psychologists. Or Biologists, or Sexologists, or honestly whoever would take him.

Because Evan Buckley was rabid when it came to his sexual urges, and it was honestly baffling, even after so many years being on the receiving end of it.

The second you stepped through the front door, Buck was on you in less than a second. His lips were on yours, his tongue exploring your mouth, and he was grinding his hips against yours.

He practically forced you up against the kitchen island, his hands roaming down your body; you could feel just how hard he was through his uniform.

“I need you.” he mumbled huskily against your lips. He was already panting as his hands moved to the hem of your pants, pulling at them impatiently. “Need you now.”

He spun you around so that your chest was against the counter, pressing his front against your back. You could feel his growing erection nudge against your rear as he continued to kiss and nip at your neck and you had to take a moment to ask yourself how you even got here.

You’d literally done absolutely nothing, and yet Buck was acting like you’d stripped naked mid shift just to taunt him into a reaction.

“Been thinking about you all day.” He muttered, his hands moving to unbutton your pants, “Can't wait. Need you now.”

He made quick work of the bottom half of your uniform, pulling everything from the waist down out of the way, leaving you exposed to him.

And at some point, he'd apparently managed to undo his own pants, because next thing you knew, you felt the tip of his erection against your thigh, slick and hard and leaking.

“Gonna make you feel so good. You have no idea—“ Buck groaned, rubbing the head of his hard cock against your entrance, “I was going crazy imagining you all day. Couldn't get you out of my head, god please babe— Need you so bad.” He said with a desperate tone, his voice low and gravelly. “Need to be inside you right now.”

Who were you to refuse him that? When he was so eager and desperate for you?

“I'm all yours.” you gasp out, and any and all restrain completely disappears from his rational mind.

He slides into you in one fluid movement, a low moan escaping from his throat. “Fuck...” Buck groans, the stretch almost too much for you. “You’re so tight, baby—”

He pauses for a moment, letting you adjust around his size, before slowly rolling his hips into you, his fingers digging into your hips. “So good for me.” He moans, his breath hot against your ear. “So good, so good—”

Buck increases his pace almost too eagerly, shifting from a slow rolling pace to pistoning his hips into you. He's panting as he grips onto you, his moans growing louder.

“God, you have no idea how good you feel—” He gasps out. “How perfect you are—”

He shifts, angling his hips just slightly to aim for that spot, and your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Right there, baby?” he groans breathlessly when he hears you cry out, almost like he’s seeking reassurance. “You like that? Yeah? Is it good for you?”

“Yeah— yes—” you gasp out, you’re gripping at the countertop, his name on your lips. “Buck—”

He lets out a deep moan at hearing you say his name, his pace not slowing down. “God, yes, baby, please keep saying my name like that—”

His pace is becoming frantic, his thrusts losing their rhythm, he can’t seem to get enough of you. “Need you. Need you so bad—” He moans out.

“Feel so good—” his breathing is ragged, his chest heaving against your back. He’s starting to lose control.

“Please.” He moans, “So tight, baby, so good for me—”

He's getting close, and you can tell just how close he is from the way he's moving, the way he's biting and sucking at your neck, the way his breathing is becoming more and more erratic.

“You close? You gonna come for me, baby?”

He's pumping into you faster now, his rhythm all but gone.

His grip on you is almost painful—but it's a good pain. “I need you to come for me, please—” He pleads. “Need to make you feel good, need to— god, baby, please—” He's thrusting frantically, he's desperate, but he's also so careful with you, making sure to make you feel just as good as him.

He's so close, he can't hold back any longer.

“Please, please, please—” he groans, his voice almost desperate.

“Please, baby, I'm so close—” his voice is almost pleading. “I'm gonna come, baby, I'm so close-”

His thrusts are becoming erratic, he's losing control, he's on the edge. “Please, please, please—” he's moaning into your ear. But he's holding back, he's not going to finish until you do. He's too desperate to make sure you feel just as good as he does.

He shifts his hips again, aiming for that spot, and you're practically seeing stars. “Is that good? Is that it, baby? You're gonna come for me, right? Right—”

“Yeah, yeah —” you manage to gasp out, “Please, I'm so close—” You can tell he's holding back, his muscles tense, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Come for me, please—” he’s begging, and it's driving you over the edge, “I need to feel you—”

“Please—” you gasp out, your orgasm growing closer and closer, “I'm gonna—”

“Come for me—”

And then he thrusts into you one last time, and that's all it takes to send you over the edge.

“Yes—” he moans when he feels you clench around him, “God, yes—”

He's right behind you, unable to hold back any longer. “Please, baby—” he gasps, “Can I—”

“Buck—”

“Please, baby, I need to—” he’s begging, “Inside— can I—” But you know exactly what he's asking, and you're nodding your head, giving him the go-ahead.

“Oh thank god—” He groans. “Thank you, thank you—” He thrusts into you a few more times, before stilling, his body shaking as he comes inside of you.

“Oh god—” he moans, his voice barely above a whisper, “thank you, thank you—” He's panting, his face buried into your shoulder.

He's holding onto you like he's afraid you'll disappear, his body warm against your back. “Feel so good, baby, so good—” he mumbles into your skin, his breathing still erratic.

His orgasm is so much, that despite his cock plugging you full, his release seeps through the gaps to run down your thighs anyhow.

“So good, so good—” He repeats, his voice shaky, he’s panting. He slowly pulls out of you, his legs unsteady and his mind spinning as he watches the pool of cum that follows out of you and onto the counter.

A shiver of pleasure runs through him, seeing you like this, seeing what he's done to you, and he pulls you close, holding you against his chest, his heart still racing.

“So good,” he murmurs, planting kisses onto your throat, your neck, your collarbone. “God, baby, you're so good. So perfect.”

He lifts you up, sitting you on the countertop, your legs splayed wide while he stands between them. He looks down, at the mess he's made of you, and it’s almost enough to make him hard all over again.

His fingers move instinctively to catch the drips of him that escape you, pushing it back into you with little resistance.

“Mmm,” he moans, his voice still gruff with sex, “That’s a pretty picture, baby.”

He brings his fingers up to his mouth to lick the excess off of his fingers, tasting himself, tasting the mix of both of you.

He groans, his eyes never leaving you as he does, “God you're perfect.”

[the-writer-arrived]

Voice lines and habits that give me unholy thoughts

Synopsis: it doesn't need much for your cute little brain to go haywire with desire for him... (un)fortunately for you, he's quick to catch on the signs and use them against you.

Characters: wriothesley, alhaitham.

Warnings: afab!fem!reader; explicit smut; established relationship; a bit of plot since i like the build up to the horny part; use of handcuffs, oral f!receiving, fingering & overstimulation (wriothesley); semi-public/office sex & oral m!receiving (alhaitham).

A/N: wrio's teaser and web event messed with my brain :D hoyoverse def knew what they were doing when they created him.

This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.

"...Sweetheart, did you hear me or were you too busy staring intensely at my hand?"

"...Oh! I, uh... was just thinking about an answer to your question!"

"Does my question of whether you want more tea or not need that much pondering over?"

Wriothesley rests his cheek on his hand, not even trying to hold back a smirk as he watches the redness of your cheeks becoming more proeminent.

Shit. So much for thinking you were being discreet about it.

You decide to exercise your right to remain silent, taking the teapot and filling your own cup, promptly ignoring the chuckle coming from the man before you.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the handsome bastard has the audacity to return twirling and moving that dastard pen again, as if to taunt you.

...Is feeling jealous of an object too concerning of a sign?

----------

Wriothesley was seeing you out of his office, a stack of documents in your arms that needed to be delivered to Neuvillette about the recent happenings of the Fortress, a task that you were more than happy to do for him.

As you were finishing your conversation, you hear a commotion coming from the Coupon Cafeteria. With a shared glance between you two, the warden walks towards the scene to investigate, you following a few steps behind.

There, you see a group of inmates-- no, it's more like one inmate is causing a ruckus while the others are trying to cool him off... without much success apparently. In fact, things are quickly getting out of control when the riled up man begins to fight anyone opposing him.

Your boyfriend is known to be level-headed, always trying to resolve internal conflicts by talking things out to reach an agreement. Cases like this one, however, require a more... on hands approach.

It all happens too fast. The prisoner turns around to hit the next person that dared to touch him so casually, only for his sloppy attack to be dodged with ease by none other than the Duke himself. One could easily see the color draining from man's face, any trace of his anger disappearing in a flash.

You gasp at the scene ahead of you, having to lean on the large pipe next to you as your legs suddenly feel weak.

Make no mistake, your reaction isn't fear by the violence you witness, far from it. Rather, it is because of the sudden wave of arousal you feel as you watch Wriothesley pin the troublemaker underneath him, pulling his arms behind his back to cuff him.

Fuck. For a split second, you wish you could trade places with the inmate.

'...What in the world. Get a hold of yourself!'

You shake your head in an attempt to clear the indecent thoughts... Which proves to be futile at the way the stern and cold look of your lover melts into a soft and warm one when his eyes turn to you. All while 'adjusting' his loose tie, aka pulling it lower and revealing a bit more of his scarred skin that you adore kissing it.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? Sorry, did that scare you?"

His duality makes you crazy horny-- t-that is, deeply in love with him!

"No! No, no, I wasn't scared! I was just, um... feeling a little faint due to the heat, yes!"

You wave a hand in front of you make it more believable... which don't seem to be working very we'll, seeing the frown on Wriothesley's face. So you start your plan B: run away.

"Ah, I-I better go deliever this documents to Monsieur Neuvillette then. Seeyouathomeloveyoubye!"

Wriothesley watches as you scurry off to the elevator, clutching the files in your arms like a lifeline. He shakes his head, a hand covering the grin.

"Oh darling, you're too easy to read."

----------

"Y-You mean-- ahh, that you k-knew all along?!"

"How could I not, when your eyes were almost begging me to fuck you? You should reward me for my self control, sweetheart."

Any retort you had dissolve into a shaky moan when Wriothesley curls his two fingers inside your core, hitting that deep spot that turns your brain into mush.

You want grasp the sheets, you want to scratch his back, you want to cover your face, ANYTHING. But you can't, not with your hands locked with his handcuffs to the bedpost. You hate it and you love it.

"Wrioooo..."

"Now, now princess, don't tug the handcuffs so hard, it'll hurt you and we can't have that." His free hand trails up your arms, lightly dragging his nails to make you shiver at the ticklish feeling, until he holds your wrists in place. "Be a good girl and focus on me, yeah?"

Jokes on him, that's what you've been doing the whole day. Thinking about your dear boyfriend, his sweet personality, his cute adoration for tea, his godly body, his great strength and how you wished for nothing more than to be bent over his desk and--

"C-Close, close... Gonna-!" Your babbles are interrupted by a gasp, Wriothesley's fingers speeding up and his palm brushing against your clit over and over that it takes just a few seconds for you to see white, body taut, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure washes over you.

The Duke slows down his movement until his hand stops completely, kissing your temple and cooing at you when you whine at his fingers leaving you empty.

You sigh when his mouth meets yours in a languid kiss, helping your heartbeat return to normal... until it races again when you realize his lips going down, down and down your body...

"W-Wrio... what are you-- Ahh!" You squeal at the sudden cold sensation in your sensitive pussy, attempting to wiggle your hips away. Your very mean lover just chuckles, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs and drags you back to his face, the asshole shooting you a smirk after he uses cold tongue to lick your folds again.

"Surely you didn't think I'd stop at one round, after you used your bedroom eyes at me the whole day, right? So..."

"Don't run away now, sweetheart."

"W-What did you say?!"

"...I said, don't let any of it, the treasure, roll away now."

Your lover looks at you with a quizzical look, not comprehending your unusual reaction to his words. You, on the other hand, are silent praying to all the Seven archons for your face to not be as red as you think it is.

In any case, you decide to turn your back to Alhaitham to get the rest of the treasure inside the chest, while he keeps on look out for any other hilichurl or abyss monsters lurking around.

You see, it's not common for you two to go adventure together around Sumeru, much less to see the scribe in action with your own eyes. So, you can't be blamed when you've been too distracted by the way his toned arms flex as he swings his sword(s), his cape gracefully flowing at each movement, the focused expression as the Chisel-Light Mirrors cut down the enemies...

Anyway, you were far too busy gawking over your boyfriend and how unfairly hot he is to actually notice the chest spawning right in front of you. And those words that he had said? It's no surprise your mind went to the gutter.

You just hope you weren't acting so obviously down bad for him as you fear...

----------

"So good... Always so good to me. Fuck, I'm getting close...!"

You really don't know how you got here. The memories from returning to Sumeru City from adventuring in the wilderness to being on your knees, sucking on Alhaitham's cock while in his office are a blur.

But, honestly? You can't bring yourself to care about these minor details.

You drag your head back slowly, torturously forcing the man above you to feel every inch of your mouth until only the tip, angry red and drooling pre cum, remains inside.

The harsh suck you give at the sensitive area earns you a groan, a growl almost, that leaves you rubbing your thighs together. Looking up at your beloved, you watch his chest rise and fall rapidly, a pretty flush on his cheeks and eyes sending you a glare.

A side of you wants to be mean, to give him a taste of paradise before taking it away, just like he so adores to do with you. You want him to be frustrated, to beg you for release, a taste of his own medicine...

But you can't. You shouldn't.

Regardless of the locked door, anyone might come knocking, requiring the presence of the scribe for some unimportant business and, archons forbid, hear what is happening inside the office.

You try not to acknowledge the dampness of your panties from this thought.

And then you feel it, three taps of his fingers on the back of your head, the sign you two came up with to tell the other when you're about to cum.

You release his shaft with a "pop" and Alhaitham is ready to question your cruel actions, but whatever words he had wanted to say get thrown out of the window when you swallow him again without warning, taking as much of his cock as you can.

With one, two shallow thrusts of his hips, he paints your throat white with his release, head thrown back, eyes tightly shut and a moan that most certainly would be heard by everyone in the Akademiya halls had the scribe not covered his mouth.

You try, you swear to Celestia that you try your hardest to swallow every single drop of cum, but there's too much and you can control your breathing only for so long. With much dismay, your mouth lets go of the slowly softening member, covered with a mix of his seeds and your saliva.

Chuckling at your dejected look, Alhaitham raises your chin to make you look at him, thumb gathering the very same mix that has escaped from your mouth to smear it over your lips, his next words making you shiver in arousal but also embarrasment of the knowledge that he had known all along what had gone through your mind during your adventure earlier.

"Don't let any of it roll away now, my love."

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

red wriothesley and alhaitham banners (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 4

2.4k | fluff Simon liked the way you looked at him (part 1) (part 5)

“Why was the strawberry crying?” Simon asked, casually buttering his toast that Saturday morning.

“Why?”

“’cause it was in a jam.” He looked too proud of himself as he took a bite of his toast.

You laughed, looking up from the near empty jar you were trying to clean out with your butter knife.

He loved seeing your bright smile as you sat there across the small table. Even that this was his first breakfast with you, it was better than dinner. In the gentle sun, your eyes were even lovelier, wisps of hair around your face like a halo. The building was far quieter at the hour and you felt closer, like you were all his in this quiet corner of the world.

“Luv, I was wondering if you could teach me how to bake? If you don’t mind.”

“But I’m not a very good baker.”

“Bollocks. Your pie was mint.”

You chuckled. “Okay, that one I can.”

After breakfast, you laid ingredients on the counter next to the recipe - your handwriting distinct, pleasant. Were you ever going to write something for him? A little note would be more than enough, but if he could ask, he’d prefer a letter, maybe, for when he’s away thinking of you.

“Would you like an apron?” You held yours up, with a cat print peeking out of the pocket.

He chuckled, looking over as he washed his hands. Would you like him more in one? “If you reckon I need it.”

You tied it around his waist and let out a small giggle at the sight. “So you want to cut the butter into smaller pieces,” you said, working the butter into the flour with the back of a fork before handing it over to him.

Simon pressed the fork onto the butter, but the sheer force of it made flour fly out of the mixing bowl.

“Shite,” he said under his breath.

“Gently.” You placed your hand over his, pushing it down. “This way.”

He took a breath as he watched how you did so easily, but most of all, revelled in your touch. You’d already held hands, but this was something else. He wished you didn’t let go. And you didn’t, instead wrapping an arm around his waist, watching, as he proceeded with the job you assigned.

He peered at you and you nodded approvingly.

“Now tip that out and fold the dough over itself until it comes together - no dry flour left.”

He dumped the lumpy, powdery mess onto the board and brought it together with his large, awkward hands. But a few folds in, the dough started to transform into a cohesive ball. His brows rose in amusement.

“Look at that, you’re a natural!”

He chuckled to himself as you beamed at him proudly.

Next came the filling. You placed the peeler in his palm - the very same one from last week - his fucking nemesis. He picked up one of the apples, dwarfed by his hand, hoping he had better luck with rounded objects.

He didn’t. He was taking off chunks off the pitiful fruit. He should have come prepared and asked his mum how to peel apples without looking like he was about to stab someone. They certainly didn’t teach you how to use a peeler at the butcher.

“I like to do it this way.” You lightly took the tool from him and demonstrated with another apple. “Hold it here and pull away, like this. Even pressure for the thinnest peel.”

Thanks for not calling me daft.

Following your advice, the assignment didn’t turn out to be that hard. You put on some music as he cored and cut up the apples. At least he was far better with traditional knives.

“Quality control,” you said, popping a piece in your mouth.

Simon chuckled, placing the knife down as he turned to you. “Any good?”

“Mhm. Sweet, but tart enough.” You reached for the mixing bowl again, but he caught your wrist, making you look up at him.

“Would you please let me kiss you?”

You blinked and his heart stalled in those few silent seconds, but you stepped towards him, clutching the front of his black shirt. He sighed as he leaned in, arm around your waist, finally tasting your lips - perfect just like he’d always imagined them to be. The apples were indeed sweet.

You pulled away and bit down your smile, eyeing him from under your lashes before looking away. He too couldn’t stop the grin that crept up his face, nor the thumping of his chest. He picked up the knife and continued the task at hand while you stood next to him measuring out the rest of the ingredients.

On the occasions he looked over to make sure he was following your directions correctly, your gazes met and you turned away, hiding your face behind your cup of jasmine tea. He found it endearing.

The crust he rolled out looked mangled but you reassured no one would be able to decipher the patchwork when it was all done. As he brushed the top of the pie with egg wash, he nodded when you asked if you could take a photo of him.

You gave him a little peck when he finally closed the oven door, just like you had each time he finished a step. He felt like a dog, getting a treat for every good behaviour. The pie felt like a chore now. Could he not dive into all his treats already?

You sat on the couch as the pie baked.

“I’ve always wondered how far your sleeve goes. Does it extend to your chest?”

“Just a sleeve.” He pulled his shirtsleeve up revealing the entirety of his monochrome tattoo.

Your lips pursed. Did he look that good that it flustered you? You were adorable. He liked the way you were looking. Could you never look away again?

“Would you believe me if I told you I had a nipple ring?”

You laughed, tearing your gaze away from his arm. “No way.”

“It was a stupid bet I lost shortly after I enlisted.”

“What was it?”

“It’s too embarrassing. Maybe next time.”

Simon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to him as he leaned back. With your hand on his chest, you closed the gap and he just wanted to melt into a puddle against your soft lips. Your breath hitched as his fingers ran down your spine.

You lay on top of him, and his wary fingers toyed with the ends of your hair. The both of you remained silent in each other’s embrace, kissing occasionally, until the timer on the oven went off.

“What do you want for dinner?”

Simon took another bite of his pie that he had to admit tasted far better than he expected it to, perhaps even as good as yours if he was generous (if he closed his eyes anyway). No soggy bottom, at least. Merry Berry would be proud.

“I’m going to the soup kitchen, so I’ll get something nearby after.”

How could he forget? It was the first Saturday of the month.

“You need to pick up loaves from the bakery, yeah? Need me to drive you?”

You smiled. “I’d really like that if you don’t mind, actually. Oh, I need to text Ben, in case he forgets.”

“Ben?”

“Your mums’ boss. We pickup leftover bread there at a discount.”

As you buckled up in his SUV, he realised he never got to hand you your gift last night. He reached for the bag in the backseat.

“For you.”

You pulled out the grey fabric and that beautiful smile bloomed across your lips again.

“Oh, Simon, that’s lovely.” Your fingers traced over the little patch on the left side of the chest. A slice of apple pie. You looked up at him. “Thank you so much.”

It was impossible for his heart to not skip at such a sight.

As you settled the payments with Ben, Simon helped you haul the crates of bread into his car. He was glad he was around this time to help you out otherwise you’d have to take a taxi all by yourself like you always did.

“Ben, mate?” As Simon carried the last of the crates, he stopped at the door which the older gentleman was holding open. “You reckon you’ve got anything to do with how the bastard found out my mum works here?”

He shook his head. “I don’t even know him.”

“Did you contact the coppas? Ran a background check on her perhaps?”

Ben’s eyes widened. “Oh, I had no idea-“

Mr. Riley must have played the worried husband and reported her missing back home to have been notified.

He sighed. “No worries, Ben. It’s not your fault.”

“R- really?”

He felt bad about how the old man gripped the door, still looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m just glad you were there with her. Oh-“ He fished out a wad of cash from his back pocket and handed it to Ben. “To cover the discount. See you around, mate.”

Still in disbelief, he flinched at the pat on his arm.

At the facility centre, the lieutenant effortlessly carried the load into the kitchen, but he lingered at the building’s entrance.

“You reckon there’s anything else I can help with inside?”

You smiled. “Always.”

Perhaps Simon should have asked what the menu was before offering a hand, but he was glad it was the humble garlic bread and that his slicing and buttering skills were decent. You introduced him as a friend to the other volunteers, who were polite (or scared) enough not to question how close he stood by you. But was it bad if he wanted more, if he wanted them to ask who he really was to you?

At 6, people started pouring into the hall. Some knew you by name, greeting you with a grin that faltered when they laid eyes on the stony lieutenant next to you. It must have been comical how the both of you looked behind the small table handing out garlic bread, his frown a stark contrast to your bright self.

But he was having a grand time simply being close to you, seeing you and your friends making people smile. His pinky trailed down your hand.

You looked up at him, shoulder bumping his arm. “You keep our country safe. That’s why we get to have nights like this.”

He smiled when you held his hand. He supposed he was a tiny, tiny bit responsible for this. Your reassurance gave him a new sense of pride, that he was doing something.

After a late dinner you insisted Simon pick, the both of you headed home. When he made it to your flat in the baggiest shirt he owned, you were on the couch, freshly showered just as he was.

You should be kicking him out for bothering you even at this hour, so why did you take him by the hand and lead him to your bed instead? He didn’t resist when you lay next to him, your hand propping your head up.

His heart raced with you this close, watching your soft eyes travel over his face that he didn’t feel deserved to be mere inches away from your beautiful one.

“Simon Riley,” you said quietly, your thumb tracing his lower lip.

“Hm?”

“You’ve got a pretty name.”

Even my last name?

Your gaze flicked up. “Your eyes are really pretty too.”

His eyes fluttered close as he let out an uneven breath.

“You’re beautiful.” Your fingers trailed down his scruffy jaw.

He was certain now his chest was about to explode. Were you high? What did you see in him?

He’d never been touched so carefully before, gazed at so softly. Not even by his first and last love, his childhood sweetheart, whom the thought was the one before duty got in the way. It had been so long ago that he’d forgotten what it felt like to have a bit of peace, to just be - if things were ever this pleasant.

Each ‘a little more’ of you carried him further and further, and he’d floated a little too far from shore - the shore which had thinned into a distant line in the horizon, foreign from where he was as he threaded.

Wasn’t this only going to end one way? He was playing with fire, going down a slippery slope, to be in involved with you as this mess of a man. He did terrible things for a living. He wasn’t good enough for you, couldn’t you see? Or were you too compassionate to understand? It was all the more why he shouldn’t be here with you, in your bed, under your touch, even when he didn’t ever want to leave this flat of yours.

But you let him stay anyway, even after the shameful admittance of his past. Could it be that it didn’t matter to you, that for the first time he was alright as he was, despite his shortcomings? Perfectly loveable, as you were in his eyes?

Hope glimmered in him. I want to be good enough for you.

“Why are you so… nice?”

You took a moment to reply. “It’s easy to be. Being nice is free.”

It was not. Nothing was, but who was he to break your heart?

“Have you not been hurt from that?”

Your lips quirked into a resigned smile. “Unfortunately so, but sometimes it’s worth it.”

He pulled you in, his fingers tangled in your hair as you let out a soft giggle against his lips. When he eventually let you out of his grasp, a little breathless, you flicked the bedside lamp off.

You yawned. “If you’re heading back, please slide the key under the door.”

He didn’t want to. He scooted behind you, a heavy arm around your waist.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what. The bet was that Arsenal was going to lose to Man U. Well, they didn’t, but my left nipple did.”

Your body shook with laughter. “Of course it was a football bet.”

He smiled into your hair. “Goodnight, luv.”

“Night, Simon,” you mumbled.

Pressed up against you in your soft bed, so cosy with your scent surrounding him, his eyelids soon grew heavy.

His worst demons could visit in his dreams again, but nothing was going to take him out of your bed that night. Maybe, this time, things really could be alright for once, and not only in his favourite flat in Hereford.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @astraluminaaa @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @nocturnalreader106 @sparrowgalaxy @lyenera

[mbsneur]

Casual Sex

Misa Rodriguez x Reader

Summary: You met Misa because of Jenni. You have casual sex very often but you don't feel good anymore?

Warnings: Smut,Sub!reader,oral,fingering, names like „Amore“ and „good girl“

WC: 1304

please read this text before going to the story please don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33

Real Madrid lost the El Clásico against rivals Barça as so often again Misa stood in front of your door frustrated and angry and fucked you in every direction

You have been friends with Jenni since childhood and last month she took you to a party where there were several Spanish people and where you also met Misa

even after 6 orgasms she was still lying between your legs your whole body was weak and shaking you saw Misas Strong arms around your thighs to keep them apart. She kissed the inside of your thighs and you saw her sweaty hair sticking to her forehead. With every kiss, your legs twitched and Misa had a smug smile in return

you are still dripping from your previous orgasm misa gets higher and higher with her mouth and licks a large stripe from your hole to your clit your legs close and you twitch you try to push misa away but she squeezes tightly around your thighs holding you in place "Misa I can't take another one, I can't feel my legs anymore"

"psht amore you can, I know you can, don't you want to be my good girl?"

„yeah mi-„

"So you see, you're going to take what I give you mh"

misa's head returns to your core she places soft kisses on your clit making you cry out misa starts sucking and brings one of her fingers to your hole and circles it gently your hips rock into her mouth and you whimper "baby please don't tease" Misa smiles and inserts a finger inside you. You start to get louder and louder and Misa hits all the right spots inside you. She curls her fingers and sucks on your clit. You breathe quickly and your pelvis rises Misa squeezes your stomach with her other hand to keep you in place. You get louder "fuck misa right there" you moan and your eyes roll into your head sweat forms on your chest and you get closer to where misa wants you "Will you cum for me pretty girl?" She asks and now pumps two fingers into your dripping hole. You can hear how wet you are "baby you are going to make me cum I want to cum on your fingers like a good girl please misa" you literally screamed misa now started sucking your clit harder and your legs started shaking you scream and cum all over misa's face your Legs close around her head and she helps you through your orgasm. She only removes her fingers when she is sure you have survived it

Misa moves away from you and comes up to you. She gently kisses your shoulder and whispers in your ear "I knew you could, my good girl" then she gets up, takes her things and starts to get dressed. You don't feel good about the fact that Misa always just comes to you to fuck you and then leaves again as if nothing had ever happened. You felt like that like an object for her you watch her, with every step her stomach tenses she renews her bun and looks for her sports bra in the room "do you want to go already Misa?" you ask her, she has found her sports bra and while she is putting on her clothes she looks at you briefly. You are lying there with your head leaning on your arm, watching the sweaty Misa. "Yes, I'm going, I'm tired. I'll call you when I see you again or I need it or i just come here" she says without batting an eyelash and sternly as if she's paying you to sleep with her somehow it's not what you want from Misa "I thought we'd take a shower together or eat together, I can make you tapas You always like them so much when I make them," you say quietly and you're embarrassed to ask "I don't have time for that, no, I'll take a shower at home." She puts on her shoes and is kind of rushed. She takes the rest of her things with her With a "see you" she slams the door and leaves you naked and tired from sex

You pull yourself together and take a hot bath. You don't really know what to think about it or what you feel or whether you want to talk to Misa about it. You don't want it to be over either because Misa actually has so much love and care in her You have often noticed when you were sick and she came here and brought you things to help you get better or she invited you to her games or went to one with you. You never talked about love, it was always just friendship and sex. casual sex.

Misa has become different. She doesn't take you anywhere anymore or is caring towards you. She only comes here to have sex with you and then leaves again. u want to feel Misa differently. u want to feel her love?

The next day

You were at work like every day. Misa wrote to you early in the morning asking if she could come over later. She misses your taste, You knew she had training. You had ignored her message through the day to do your work. You arrived home around 4pm You bought groceries and were about to put them away. You took a quick shower and sat on the couch without saying a word to Misa or answering her all day. Around 10pm a loud knock on your door broke you out of your drowsy mood

You rub your eyes and actually wanted to ignore it until there was another knock, with a loud sigh You got up and ran to the door and opened it. Who else should be standing there but Misa. She greeted you with a smile and without you being able to ask her go come in or you could close the door, her lips were against your neck "mis-" “Amore why don’t you answer me all day” she whispers between kisses against your skin "misa stop" You push her away and she looks at you confusingly, raising her arms to the height of her chest "Que pasa y/n" You sigh and close your arms in front of you. You swallow "Misa I feel like an object for you where is the Misa who goes out with me invites me to matches or holds me in her arms I feel like a woman you pay" Misa's gaze softens and she can hear the frustration in your voice "I thought I didn't want that- I thought we were just people who had casual sex. I never wanted to hurt you. Did you fall in love with me?" she says stuttering You look at her and say nothing. You don't want to answer because you don't know the answer

oh wow i hope you like it, tell me your opinion

thank you <3

[igotanidea]

Shower: J.T x fem!reader

Request: from the prompt list: "for sparring to turn into sex "+ "I told you to be quiet" + "they're gonna catch us" with Jason.

@parkjammys I'm sorry in advance, I know this is probably not what you had in mind, but I just couldn;t fight the urge to play and twist those prompts a bit.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!

A/N: It's written in the Ego!verse and can be read as a next part to Growing up

***

„You got rusty” Jason smirked, while looking at Y/N’s workout simulation 

„Well, I’ve been in a cast for almost two months thanks to your older brother.” She scoffed brushing hair off her forehead. As if she didn’t know it took a heavy toll on her physique. She was panting after a beginner level program and absolutely hated it. It was like a cheek.

“It was NOT my fault!” Dick objected overhearing the conversation

“That’s just some poor explanation, Y/N” Todd mocked, making her clench her fists. “And you are not going to get back to shape and get cleared for the field if you keep it so easy.”

“Why don’t you cut your girl some slack, Todd? Even if she’s not capable of kicking your ass she can always go full meta on you.“ Tim muttered from the corner, too busy to look their direction while punching a dummy, but still not dropping the opportunity to torment his older brother.

“Oh, I am fully capable of kicking his ass.” Y/N panted “Right here, right now.”

“Is that a dare?” Jason lifted the corner of his mouth, his eyes glistening predator-like, eyeing her like a prey.

“Are you chickening out?” she pouted and tilted her head “scared of a girl, Red Hood?”

“Aren’t you scared of getting humiliated in front of the whole family?” he retorted taking a step forward her

“Do you want me to go full Ego on you?” he mimicked his movement and at the moment they were just standing in front of each other, inches away, their bodies almost touching while the other members of the family stopped their own workouts and focused on watching.

“Wouldn’t you like that, princess.” He whispered leaning over her, his hot breath on her face “I got some many thoughts in my head….”

“Do you two need a room?” Dick’s voice chimed in and brought them both back to reality. It’s been a moment since they were intimate (once again, the stupid cast!) and all they needed was a spark to forget all the surroundings and get lost in each other. But the audience was definitely not needed and upon Grayson’s words they practically recoiled from each other.

“Yeah.” Jason scratched his neck awkwardly “give me a room to pin her down.”

“Wouldn’t you like that” she laughed and it made him blush a bit. Shit. He would like that, but not with his sibling around.

“If you’re so smart and bold why don’t you go at me without using your little mind games?” he hissed clenching his fist. Fuck, he wanted her and if he didn’t start blowing the steam off that very second it would start to show.

“Promise not to go easy on me, Todd?” she spun around taking a stance on the fighting mat, facing him with that arcane look. He nodded, swallowing hard. “Then it’s a deal.”

“Wait!” Stephanie yelled “I’m opening the bets! 10 bucks on Y/N!”

“10 bucks?!” Y/N scoffed “so little faith in me, Steph! That’s pretty offending!”

“That’s all I have, y/n/n/, don’t let me down.” The blonde blew a kiss her friends direction and grinned.

“Ready you two?” Grayson rubbed his hand acting like a judge on the ring “set. Go!”

Neither Jason nor Y/N moved in the slightest. They knew each other too well to take  any sudden action, instead focusing on eyeing each other, calculating every gesture. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity she took tiniest step forward and the real fight burst out.  

Y/N took a slide and before Jason with his tank build realized what was happening she was behind him, punching his shoulder blades and making him fall forward a bit, but still not enough to cause him to fully loose the balance.

“Backstabbing, princess?” he smirked turning to face her and throwing a punch which she blocked easily, grabbing his arm and twisting it, causing him to groan.

“Go Y/N!” Steph yelled happily and that sudden exclaim distracted her giving Jason opportunity to put his other arm around her waist and lift her in the air.

“Let go off me!” she yelled, kicking her feet desperately, hoping to reach his knee or calf, which she knew were more sensitive and prone to injury than any other part of his body, but failed at that, instead ending up being held like a unruly kid, arms pinned to her sides. “Damn it!”

“Giving up already?”

“You wish!” Y/N was quick to come up with contingencies and not only because Steph was now literally biting her nails watching the scene unravelling in front of her eyes. Since it was impossible to use her hands, Y/N swung her legs in the way Dick taught her and not without effort wrapped them around Jason’s neck ending up on his shoulders, strangling him, cutting the air supply, waiting for the familiar patting on her thigh – sign of surrender. 

“Aren’t you a bit too cocky, Ego?” he hissed, trying to throw her from his back, squeezing the ankle of her freshly healed leg making her yelp in pain and loosen the grip.

A mistake which made her end up on the floor, almost losing the battle.

“That hurt you bastard!” she cried out, real tears showing in her eyes.

“I’m not falling for that love” he went forth and in a blink of an eye pressed her to the wall. Their chest touching, moving up and down frantically due to the heavy breath. Was it just because of the fighting?”

“Jason….” she whined, trying to push him away.

“Don’t play dirty.” He whispered into her ear

“ME?” she faked innocence “you are clearly the one happy to have me so close, don’t you, baby?” AUCH!” the girl screamed when he pushed her even more into the wall, his eyes absolutely dark “your family is watching….”

Fuck.

He let go for just a second and it was enough for her to use that against him. In the end he was the one who ended up on the mattress, on his back with Y/N straddling his hips and hands on his chest pinning him down and …. Well…. Feeling something there.

“You think you won?”

“I…” she didn’t get to finish the sentence when he flipped her over, hovering over, his  bodyweight not letting her to get up. “Fuck….” She muttered

“You?” Jason muttered, pressing his body closer to her, whispering in her ear, making her hot and needy and all red. “I can do that….”

“Could you please stop?” Damian muttered, rolling his eyes “why is it so hard to stay professional? It’s just freaking disgusting.”

“So, seems like I won.” Todd grinned, getting up, too proud of himself about making Y/N a flustered mess on the floor.

“I hate you, Todd.” She brushed off his hand which he offered to help her up. “You almost broke my leg again!”

“You know I would never do that. Not to you, Y/N. But Riddler’s goons wouldn’t have any seconds thoughts. You need to be ready for that. “ she turned away from him, angry “Hey.” He put a hand on her shoulder and spun her around “don’t be mad at me, baby….. You know I can’t handle that.”

“Y/N!” Cass called from behind. She was the one who was watching the scene most carefully from all the siblings. Therefore she noticed the slight limp and bruising on Y/N’s ankle and had to make sure her friend was good to go “Leg?”

“I’m fine, Cass.” She sighed deeply “Sorry for making you lose the bet, Steph. Great job, Jason, congratulations, I guess.” She raised on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek briefly.

Probably last thing he needed, since instead of making him calm down the fight with her, feeling her body underneath him while pinning her down did exactly the opposite. And the feeling of her soft lips on his face only fueled him more. He needed her. He wanted her. It’s been too long since he had her.

“You did well, Y/N” Dick patted her shoulder as he walked past him “I think we all had enough for today.  Let’s just hit the showers.”

“Sure….”

Y/N moved towards the bathroom, adjacent to the training room. She knew Jason never meant to hurt her, but once he got into his Red Hood mode, he was oblivious to his own strength. And while fighting she was his opponent, not his girlfriend. And she wanted him to not go easy on her.

But still, it was painful and single unwanted tear flew down her cheek.

She wiped it off, angrily and slowly started taking off her sweaty workout clothes. But before any of them could actually hit the floor,  she felt hands wrapping around her from behind and let out a gasp struggling against the grip.

“Sh!” one palm covered her mouth silencing her in an instance “it’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

“Jace!” she whispered-yelled turning around to face him “what the hell are you…..?” she cut off, her eyes widening and wandering all over him. He was naked. Absolutely naked. And absolutely horny. Ready for action and the sight of him being so hard for her made her let out a moan.

“see anything you like?” he smirked so full of himself.

“Jace….” She whined, wrapping arms around his neck immediately pulling him to a kiss, pressing herself close to him.

Of course, she wanted and needed him too. Maybe even more than he needed her.

“Fuck, I missed you.” he gasped, hands wondering all over her curves, not able to satiate of the feeling of her so close, being so vulnerable in his embrace, so submissive to his every action and movement "I missed you so bad, baby.” Those calloused palms dived under the hem of her sport bra, painfully slowly lifting it up, forcing her to put her arms up and let go of him for a moment. Too long moment for her liking as the second that piece of material was gone she clung to him like a magnet.

“Mmmm.” She whined, feeling his lips on her neck, nibbling softly on the sensitive skin and massaging her breasts, pinching slightly on the pebbled nipples.

“You gotta keep quiet baby.” He smirked, now playing with the hem of her panties, caressing so close to where she needed him “Thin walls. Do you want everyone to hear you?”

“Hmmm.” She muttered mockingly taking a step back entering into the shower cabin, getting rid of her panties herself, completely exposed and motioning for him to follow “Hear us, baby. You’re not exactly the quiet type either. Come get me….” The girl whispered turning the water on, the broad stream dampening her whole body and hair.

She was never hotter.

Those lust-blown eyes, slightly reddened cheeks, plump and kiss-swollen lips …. Her body was practically screaming to him, so ready for more. She was looking at him with that sexy, lustful, seductive expression. All for his taking. With one stride he was next to her, pressing her whole body to his. Closer, closer, closer. And yet still not close enough. Her soft and silky skin, her every curve, all for him and he was not going to oppose to that gift in front of him. Passion and love consumed them both, hot water and the fogged bathroom  creating the steamy atmosphere only added to those feelings an fueled them.  

 “Baby…. Don’t stop, please, fuck, don’t stop” her hands found a way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling gently, pressing his head and mouth to her skin. “I want more.”

“Did I hurt you?” he suddenly pulled back looking into her eyes “is your leg all right?”

“It hurts….” She whined, pouting and reciprocating his gaze with the saddest, softest expression almost begging him to take care of her. In a very specific way.

“How can I make it better?” he whispered, heavily, resuming nibbling on her neck, causing another whine to slip past her lips.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing…. be … be soft with me today.” She begged “be gentle, baby…. It’s been so long, I forgot how you feel.”

“I’ll remind you. “

“How will you remind me?” she gasped when he bit on her collarbone, hickey already forming, her core throbbing and feeling so neglected, aching.

“I’ll kiss every part  of your perfect body. I’ll make you feel so good baby. I’ll get you high. Let me.”

“Take me, Jace” she moaned clawing on his broad back, his muscles tensing and flexing due to her ministration “now. Please, baby, please, I need you. I need you so bad.” she almost cried, all the sensations overwhelming her.

“Are you sure? Like you said, it’s been a while. Can you really take it?”

“Yes, yes please…. please Jason, please, please.” Tears started falling down her cheeks, masked by the streams of water on her face and he was quick to kiss all that pain away, lips brushing over her jaw and neck, nose rubbing nose before he captured her lips again. She wanted him to be gentle and he was going to comply. Just showing her all the love he had, without words, purely by action.

 “I missed this.” he whispered tracing a pattern up her inner thigh, causing her to spread her legs slightly “I missed being with you like this. Away from everyone, just us.”

“Mhmmm.” She shuddered when his fingers found their destination “Just us, baby. You and me. I’m all yours.”

“And I’m yours. Tell me how to please you princess. Tell me what you need. Tell me how you need. I want to know all your little fantasies.”

“No fantasies. Not today.” She shook her head “Not here. I want it simple. Just lift me and don’t let me slip.”

“I won’t” he promised quickly catching up what, how and where she needed, grabbing backs of her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her into the wall for support, one hand on her back, the other in her hair, massaging gently, tilting her head to get access to more of her skin.

“IT’S COLD!”she let out an involuntary scream taking them both by surprise.

“SH!!” he silenced her again “I told you to be quiet! They are gonna catch us!”

“Do you really think they haven’t realized you sneaked in here the second the training session was over? Please….” She rolled eyes “besides, do you really care? Come on, you have me in the palm of your hand, baby.” She wrapped her arms tighter around him, moving slightly up and down to create any friction and make him take some action. Much to her delight it got her a groan from the back of his throat and she shuddered at that sound “I’m quite the catch, don’t you think? And you can do what you wish with that” her seductive whisper In his ear seemed to finally spur him on.

“The best.” He responded pushing  in. Fighting the urge to just go all in with one thrust, but remembering what she asked him for. And instantly getting the reminder when she writhed with some discomfort, nails digging into his back. He loved that sweet pain, but was still mindful that it indicated that she was pushing past her limits.

“I won’t hurt you.” He whispered, rubbing her back reassuringly, trying to help her relax.

“I know…” she hissed feeling him push another couple inches in “I told you, it’s been….. a moment since we …..  and …. Mmmm.” The slightest frown appeared on her face and her mouth hung open for a while whilst her body started getting a memo of how good it was to have Jason inside her. How perfectly aligned they were. “Jace…..” she gasped out, already wanting and needing more.

“I can stop if you want.”

“Don’t lie to me, Jason. We both know you can’t stop at this point. And I can take it. I promise, I can take it. I want you whole. In me. Now.” she arched her back, trying to take in more of his shaft .

“You have me. I….” he hesitated. Words were still hard, but he felt the urge to say them. To assure her, that what he felt was true and that he cared for her.  “I love you baby. So fucking much.” His lips found hers once more and he bottomed out with one more push swallowing her scream as her pussy fluttered around his digits so deliciously. She was right, he didn’t really care about his family overhearing them going at it, damn, he was fucking proud and bragging about being the one to make her feel good enough to scream (suck that, Grayson). But that little sucker knew that forcing her to keep her mouth shut would result in her clawing on his back again. And he wanted that. She was all his. Her body, her mind, her soul, her screams and moans, her actions.

Everything.

Jason Todd was one selfish and possessive bastard.

But still caring.

“Jace…” she panted when he finally let her lips go, allowing her to take a breath. Not that she was capable of breathing while having him like this.

“You’re good? Can I…..?”

“Just…. Just a second….” She wriggled her hips, adjusting to the stretch, causing him to groan.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to lose it.” He warned, squeezing her butt cheek.

“Oh, I am being tormented here. Forced, used, attacked from behind, abused.” She mocked tearily “poor little me.”

“Forced, baby? Abused? I can’t really see you opposing very actively.”

“Just move you little shit.” She laughed lightly, patting on his shoulder, urging him to start thrusting. And he did. Slowly, carefully. It was easy to get lost in her, but this time he was not going to rush that intimacy. They had all the time in the world. Eternity to worship each other. The external world might as well stop existing and explode and they would be perfectly happy just moving in that sensual, intimate pace, holding onto each other. Living in the bubble they created from their passion and love.

“I….” she whined, throwing her head back, resting it on the tiles and feeling the fire forming in her belly. At this point, her body was on fire and she didn’t care whether the wall was cold or not “I missed this too, Jason. Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know….” he mumbled using the opportunity to kiss the exposed column of her throat moving towards her nipples, swirling his tongue around them, licking all the water droplets gathered there making her moan loudly “I’m fucking perfect for you.”

“Jace…..” she started moving against him, chasing her own high. She never knew that slow, soft loving could be so much better and more fulfilling than the rough, fast pace he usually set

“Hm?”

“Please…..”

“Please what?”

“Don’t stop loving me…. Just…. don’t …. ” shit, she was so close.

“I could never, baby. Just want to make you feel good.” He took a step forward, pressing her further into the wall and adjusting the grip on her back, making sure she would not slip.

“You are, but …. More. Please. Please, baby, please, oh, god” he didn’t pick up the pace but started moving harder on her almost making her snap “yes…yes, Jace, yes, baby.” She was no so loud there was not a chance those sounds didn’t echo through the whole manor. Most probably reaching not only the youngest but Alfred and Bruce as well.

Oh, well, that’s really (not) a shame.

“I thought I told you to be quiet, princess?”

“Fuck! Fuck! I don’t care! AH! Jason! Jace, baby, yes! Yes! Fuck! Please! God, baby, don’t …. So close…. Mmmm…”  

“You’re gonna come for me, baby? Right now? Can you be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“JA…..” he didn’t give her even the slightest chance to scream his whole name, pressing his mouth on her swallowing the other part of it, feeling her body shudder and shake in his arms.

She was so fragile, so vulnerable, so sensitive and so overstimulated that even when he himself came, she was still clinging onto him. Not wanting to let go. Wanting him to stay, to hold her like that, to shower (pun intended) her with aftercare, attention, affection. She just needed him close. Not in a physical way, but emotional. And if he were to pull out and get out of this freaking bathroom, out in the world, forced to face it, she would lose that part of him. She wasn’t ready to let go of her emotional Jason. Not yet.

“Stay.” She begged looking straight into his eyes. “Please, stay.”

“Baby….” He kissed her forehead, slowly dropping her to her feet, hands secured on her waist, making sure her shaky legs wouldn’t give up on her,  holding her close.

“I don’t want to go there….”

“Now you scared they heard?”

“It’s not that… I…. I need you.Not the one you are with your siblings. The you¸ you are only for me” she brushed her lips over his slowly, gently “please…”

“I know. And I’m not leaving you. How could I?” he pecked her lips “but we can’t stay here forever.”

“Why?” she whined, hiding face in his chest and massaging his back “It’s nice and warm and spacious….”

“Don’t you think someone will take interest in why the water in this particular shower keeps running for hours non-stop?”

“hours, huh?” she smirked, licking her lips. She was so damn ready for round two.

“I bet it would be Alfred. Do you really want that?”

“No.” she looked down, suddenly ashamed by the thought of the family butler being a witness to their workout and forcing them out alongside with making them clean the bathroom of everything they may leave behind.

Jason kissed her temple briefly and reached behind him to grab a towel and wrap her in it, slowly helping her dry herself, smile never leaving his lips. She was looking so tiny and adorable like this. In her post-coital bliss. He wanted to remember that relaxed, peaceful look on her beautiful face.

Only when they both were dressed properly and somewhat presentable they dared to take a peek through the door, making sure no one was around. As fast as lighting and as quiet as the mouses they rushed to Y/N’s room, ready for cuddling and a movie marathon, but much to their surprise they had an unwanted guest waiting for them there.

‘You are both disgusting.” Damian hissed

“And you are here cause you wanted to say it to our faces?”

“Yes. Just letting you know. Oh, and… Y/N. You should know you actually made Steph win a bet.”

“What?” she asked in confusion, brows furrowing

“There was another. Between Brown and Grayson. She bet we would hear you. Grayson had more faith in your self-control. And he’s angry about losing. Good luck talking to him about it.”

“Oh, damn it….” Y/N whined, hiding face in hands, turning red.

“What was it that you said when I told you they are going to hear?” Jason tapped his chin “oh, right, I don’t care. Well, don’t you now?”

[lonesomelanor]

▬▬▬   𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐀 .   𝜗𝜚 

ִ     ꒱  hector fort && bambi!content creator!reader ₊˚⊹

bambi reached over to turn on her mirror light, clicking the small button that made the white lights flash across both her and hector’s faces. hector squinted, shutting his eyes tight against the sudden brightness. “you could’ve given me a warning.”

bambi giggled at his reaction. “sorry, baby.” she kissed his cheek.

“hi, deers! today, i’m here with my lovely boyfriend, hector!” she beamed into the camera.

hector’s eyes lit up when she said his name, and he gave a little wave. “introduce yourself while i look for my hair clips,” bambi said, getting up from her vanity.

“hi. i’m hector. .. . fort garcía, i play as a right back for barcelona atlètic. and i’ve been dating bambi for around 2-ish years,”

bambi giggled at his awkwardness, “okay. find them! now.. . let’s start” she sat back down next to hector. he grabbed the clips from her and pushed her hair back away from her face, placing the clips into her hair.

“now what’s the first— second step?” bambi asked hector. he looked at her cheetah makeup bag, picking it up. he unzipped the bag and looked for her foundation and concealer, “did you use moisturizer already?” he asked her.

she nodded, “that’s your first hint. .. no more!” she joked. hector rolled his eyes, he grabbed her nars sheer glow foundation from the bag, he squeezed the bottle’s cap onto the back of his hand, “why is it so orange?” his face full of disgust. she stared at him, blankly. he looked for her makeup sponge, he saw a bright pink sponge laying on her clear vanity that was covered with old foundation and concealer.

“is this the right one?”

she shrugged which made hector sigh, he patted the sponge onto the back of his hand, trying to pick the product up. he looked at the sponge to see if there was product on the pink object, hector began to dab the sponge onto her brown skin.

“now this one is too pale,” he looked at the maybeline fit me concealer. “baby, do you need help picking out makeup to match your skin tone?” he asked in genuine concerned. she couldn’t help with burst out laughing, “noo hector, it’s supposed to be like that” she assured him.

he continued to repeat the same process to apply the concealer onto her face.

“glossier,” hector mimicked the name of her eyebrow gel before he turned the black cap off of thin white bottle, he flicked her eyebrows up with the wand. he leaned back to over look her face, his eyes now wider than usual. “fucked your eyebrows up..” he mumbled under his breath before he reapplied the gel onto her eyebrows trying to fix them.

bambi stifled a laugh as he tried to fix the slightly uneven brow. “no one will notice, baby. you’re doing great,” she reassured him, enjoying his focused determination.

“ok now.. i know you don’t use eyeshadow anymore so i think that’s it.” he said, nodding to himself.

he continued sifting through her bag, lifting out a compact with a coral blush inside. “i think this step— blush. it makes you look like a tomato,” he added, grabbing the blush with a teasing grin. he smiled, tapping the brush into the blush and gently sweeping it across her cheeks.

“okay, but go easy! i don’t wanna look like i’m overheating,”

bambi grinned, watching him fumble a little as he unscrewed the highlighter cap. he squeezed out a tiny amount, and with his finger, gently dabbed the highlighter onto her cheekbones and the tip of her nose. “estàs maca” he said with a proud smile, meaning you look pretty in catalan.

“come closer..” he said, his voice low and playful, leaning in so he could apply the lip liner and balm. her lips pouted out as he carefully pressed her brown lip liner against her lips— the liner was just a smidge darker than the natural color of her lips. he picked up her pink vaseline tin, his fingers gliding across the pink jelly and pressing it against her top and bottom lip.

“perfect!” she said with a huge smile.

hector pulled the makeup bag closer, looking for some setting spray. his face scrunched up a little as he looked. "i have no idea what this is..." he trailed off, lifting up the setting spray, his face contorting in confusion. "it's called setting spray." she said, reaching for the bottle, "it'll set your face for the day,"

bambi shook the bottle, holding her hair back. she closed her eyes as she began to spray her face before hector spoke out, "i thought i was doing your makeup,” he complained, taking the setting spray out of her hand and shaking the bottle as well.

he held her chin and sprayed the setting spray on her face. she shook her head and smiled. "you did, and now you're finished. thanks for doing this!" she kissed his cheek.

he grabbed the vlogging camera and aimed it towards her, "so how did i do?" he asked her, “not bad. .. but you did forget something,” she teased.

he looked up at her, biting his lip. "what?"

as soon as bambi started talking, he attacked her lips with his, kissing her.

she giggled between his lips, “hector! no, it’s my mascara,” she said, pulling away laughing.

▌ AYANA NOTES !

⤷ first fic out 😁 + fic inspired by @luvaaiko.

⤷ lowk might make a au for this relationship

❪ written by 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗿 on tumblr ❫

[daisies-daydreams]

Office Hours - Chapter 2 (Professor!Miguel O'Hara x F!College Student!Reader)

Pairing: Professor!Miguel O’Hara x F!College Student!Reader Category: Smut (18+) Warnings: Swearing, Dirty Talk, Griding, Nipple Play, Marking/Hickeys, Thigh Riding, Handjobs, Pearl Necklaces/Facials Word Count: 2.4k+

A/N: AKA the chapter where you ride Papi Miguel's thigh. 😏 I hope you enjoy!

Side Note: I am not fluent in Spanish. If I made any mistakes, please correct me (respectfully!).

Ch. 1 <-•-> Ch. 3

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Your stomach felt like it was tied into knots as you padded down the hall, your dress billowing as you briskly walked towards Miguel’s office. You flattened the skirt of your dress and took a deep breath before you knocked on the large, wooden door. The door swung open, revealing Miguel staring down at you through his reading glasses. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the scent of his sandalwood cologne. 

“I’m glad you could make it,” he grinned ear to ear. You returned his smile as he stepped out of the way. You gasped as he splayed one of his massive hands across the small of your back, quickly ushering you inside. His office was quite neat and orderly, every book and paper lined up in perfectly straight rows. You jumped when he closed the door. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled. You shook your head. 

“It’s fine,” you murmured as you set your bag next to one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

“I wanted to discuss something before we begin our review,” he said as he cleared his throat. Your eyes widened as he locked the door behind him. He remained still as a statue for a few seconds before he lumbered towards you. You stayed glued to the floor as Miguel nearly pressed his front against yours, his shadow swallowing you whole. You felt like time itself froze as he cupped your chin in his large hand.  

“You think I don’t notice your longing stares during class, hm, chica?” he suddenly murmured, his voice dropping several octaves [girl]. A lump swelled in your throat as his eyes bored into your own. 

“W-What?” you squeaked. Miguel clicked his tongue as he gave you a wry grin.

“There’s no need to play coy, hermosa,” he purred as his other hand fell to your hip [beautiful]. You gasped as he dipped his head against your ear and inhaled deeply. “Fuck, you have no idea how many times I had to stop myself from imagining you spread out for me on my desk,” Miguel groaned. "It's your fault I teach behind that damn desk most of the time, you know," he smirked. You shivered as you felt his plush lips caress the shell of your ear, the back of your thighs suddenly flush with the edge of his desk.  

“I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to…but I’ve waited so, so long for this,” he whispered before gently pecking your cheek. "For you," he added before kissing your other cheek. Your heart nearly burst as you gripped the edge of the desk and spread your legs, your core instantly ablaze at his simple gesture. You bit your lip and grabbed his broad shoulders. 

“Please, Miguel…I need you,” you whispered. Miguel narrowed his eyes and groaned before crashing lips against yours. You squealed as your mouths danced in a sloppy, wet kiss, one of your hands sliding up to grip his dark locks. He grunted as you tugged on his messy hair. 

“Coño,” he growled against your neck [Fuck]. You gasped as he grabbed your thighs before sitting you atop of his desk, knocking over several objects. You panted as he lowered his head before crashing his lips against yours. Both of you moaned into each other’s mouths as your lips danced with heated passion. Miguel swiped his tongue across your bottom lip before tugging on it between his teeth.

You parted your lips, sighing as he slipped his wet muscle inside. You whined when he squeezed your breasts, cupping them in his warm palms as he swirled his tongue around yours. His pupils were blown wide when the two of you parted, a long strand of spit connecting your mouths.  

“You have no fucking idea what you’ve been doing to me, princesa,” he murmured as he pressed his hips against yours [princess]. You keened as you felt his covered, swollen cock rub against your pussy as he furrowed his brows. 

“A-Ah, Miguel,” you moaned as you tilted your head back. The man above you snarled before he started to grind his hips against your clothed heat, his deft fingers working to strip you of your jacket.

“Keep talking, baby,” he muttered before suddenly tossing your cover-up aside. Goosebumps erupted over your skin as he kissed along your neck, lingering just over your pulse as you mewled. 

“M-Miguel,” you chanted his name as he sucked harshly against your skin. A sharp cry rang out through the small office as he leaned back. He hushed you before his hands fell over your exposed shoulders. You slowly slid off the desk to help him discard your dress. It crumpled onto the floor as you trembled, your core swelling with heat as you stood in front of him with a dark, lacy bra and a similar-looking thong. You bit your lip as he scanned up and down your body before sighing. 

“Espléndida,” he breathed in awe as he brushed his fingers over your cheek [Gorgeous]. Your body nearly melted at his touch as he tugged on the band of your thin panties. You gasped when his hands made quick work of your bra, letting it fall next to your dress. He groaned as your nipples hardened, his fingers and thumbs instantly finding their way to your sensitive buds. You squeezed your thighs as he massaged and pinched your nipples, his mouth lingering over your ear. 

“Are you sure you want to go further?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you replied almost instantly. Miguel’s low chuckle sent a shiver down your spine as his hands fell back to his side. You frowned as he stepped back, though your heart raced again as he took a seat in one of the large chairs. He gave you a hungry grin as he patted his large thigh. 

“Come have a seat, then,” he beckoned. You quickly rushed over, straddling his waist as your tits rubbed against his chest. You wanted to rip his clothes off, see his chiseled, naked body as you bounced on his unimaginably thick cock. Your brow knitted together when he placed his hands on your thighs. He licked his lips before rubbing circles against the flesh of your waist. 

“Mi conejita, while I’d love to feel your warm, tight pussy wrapped around my cock...I have another idea,” he whispered [my bunny]. Your chest grew tight as you groaned.

"What is it?" you asked. Miguel smoothed his thumb across your cheek as he smiled.

“How about you ride my thigh until your cum soaks all the way through my slacks?” he purred as his hands slid your panties down your thighs. You flushed as you heard him snarl, his eyes glued to the way your sticky folds glistened in the dim lighting of his office. 

“Tan mojada,” he breathed before spreading your warm lower lips apart with his thick digits [So wet]. You mewled as his other hand pushed your hips down against his thigh, the sudden contact causing you to jolt a little. Miguel chuckled before latching his lips to your own, letting his mouth linger as you hesitate for a moment. He leaned over as he stroked your lower back. 

“Cariño,” Miguel husked into your ear [Honey]. You wrapped your arms around his thick neck as you began to grind down on his leg. You shoved your face into his wide shoulder as a powerful wave of pleasure surged through your pussy.

“Mmmm there you go,” he drawled. You whined as you pushed your hips back and forth, each drag against his thigh making your pussy gush with more arousal. You heard him grunt as his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, his eyes locked onto the hypnotic sway of your body. 

“Fuck,” you sobbed as a wave of pleasure surged over your body. He nibbled on the lobe of your ear as he bucked his hips forward. “M-Miguel,” you choked as you started to grind a little faster. A deep rumble rose from his chest as he heard you call him by his name, his hand immediately tilting your head back up. 

“Give me those gorgeous lips, (Y/N),” the large man cooed. You complied, pushing forward as the two of you latched onto each other’s lips. You moaned into his mouth as you slid your hips back and forth. Miguel grunted before pulling back. “Look so hot riding my thigh,” he said before slapping your ass. You yelped, the sudden pain quickly mixing with pleasure before dripping right into your swollen clit. You gasped and sputtered into his mouth as you tilted your hips at a different angle, allowing your tender, puffy button to deliciously rub against the hardness of his thighs. 

“Oh God,” you mewled as you felt the tension in your lower belly wind into a tight knot. You heard him chuckle before he dove into your neck. You cried out as he sucked a hickey over your skin, the spot fresh and tender when he pulled away. You whimpered when you felt one of his hands slip away from your body, only to part your lips as you watched him unzip his pants.

You moaned softly as he pulled his throbbing cock out from his briefs. A bead of precum oozed from his flushed, bulbous tip as he squeezed the base of his shaft. A dangerous glint lingered in his dark eyes as he brought one of your hands to his cock, the heat of his flesh instantly overwhelming your senses as he steadied you on his leg. 

“I’ve got you, bebé,” he whispered as he splayed his hand over your hip [baby]. You panted, your pussy squelching against his pant leg as you wrapped your palm around his girth. You swallowed thickly, his thickness causing your legs to tremble as you began to pump your fist up and down his veiny shaft. The room was soon full of your heavy pants and slick squelches as your head began to spin. 

“That’s it…c-coño,” his hot breath fell over your shoulder as you glided your hand along his sweltering cock [fuck]. You nearly choked on your own breath as you felt the muscles in your lower stomach start to flinch and twist into knots. Miguel panted before he rested his forehead on yours. “You gonna cum hermosa, hm? Cum all over my leg like a good little puta?” the older man rumbled [beautiful; slut]. You nodded, your other hand desperately clutching his curling his shoulder. 

“Yes!” you cried out as you threw your head back. He smirked against your pulse, his hands pulling your body impossibly closer to his leg. 

“Cum for me, hermosa,” he growled before sinking his teeth into your shoulder [beautiful]. You wailed into his chest as your inner walls spasmed, your hips bucking wildly as your orgasm tore you to shreds. Your pace faltered as your body was overcome with bliss, your skin glistening with sweat as Miguel kissed the fresh bite-mark adorning your skin. Your hand still gripped his shaft as you floated back down from your high.

“You did so well…” he praised, his voice lingering a little as he placed his hand over yours. You slowed your movement over his cock as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. 

"Now...get on the floor and show those pretty tits of yours,” Miguel growled, his cheeks flush as he licked the corner of his mouth. You released a shaky breath as you slowly climbed onto the floor, your knees sinking into the soft rug as you kept your legs spread. You gazed up at him, his fucked out face nearly sending you over the edge again as he furiously jerked himself off, his swollen tip ready to burst. 

You gave him a wry smirk before you parted your lips and stuck out your tongue. Miguel scrunched his nose as his hips snapped forward, his warm cum trailing over your breasts and all the way up to your cheek. You moaned as you felt some of it splash against your wet tongue, savoring the salty taste of his seed. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he rasped as he clenched his hair with his other hand, his cock twitching out the last few ropes of his spend as you jiggled your tits for him. Your legs trembled beneath you as you watched him fall back into his chair, his large chest heaving as he let his cock soften in his hand. It twitched when you showed him the stripe of cum on your tongue before you gulped it down. 

“Zorra traviesa,” he husked [Naughty fox]. You pressed your hands onto his knees as you shuffled forward, your cum-soaked tits nearly brushing over his legs. He cocked a brow as you leaned forward, catching the head of his cock between your lips as you suckled on it. Miguel hissed between gritted teeth as his thighs clenched beneath you. You gazed into his eyes as you swirl your tongue around his tip. The intoxicating saltiness lingered on your wet muscle as you licked him clean, his hands slowly stroking your hair as his breathing slowed. 

“You’re really something else, (Y/N),” he panted. You released your mouth from his cock with a wet “pop” as you slipped away. You flinched when you felt him rest a hand on your shoulder. “Please, let me,” he said softly as he grabbed some tissues nearby. Your entire body burned as he wiped away his spend from your body. A gentle yet solemn look graced his features as he finished cleaning you up. 

“Ahí tienes,” he said before swiping his thumb along your bottom lip [There you go]. You felt your heart sink a little as you glanced at the clock, your hour with him soon coming to a close. “I believe these are yours,” Miguel smirked as he held your clothes in his hand.

You blushed and smiled as you took them from him. You turned around, making sure you glance over your shoulder as you gave him a full view of your ass. Miguel raised his brow as he slung one of his arms over the chair, his eyes roaming over your backside. Your hands shook a little as you began to redress yourself…your brows raised as you noticed that your thong was missing. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you another one,” Miguel chuckled as you whipped your head around. His eyes were half-lidded and damn-near glazed over as he handed you your bag. He shuffled in place for a bit before picking at something in his side pocket. “Do you have any plans tonight?” he asked. You blinked and shook your head. 

“Just doing some homework,” you breathed, your heartbeat picking up again as he stared at you with a hungry gaze. You squealed when he stepped forward and placed a quick kiss on your lips.

“Good…because I don’t want anyone interrupting the little surprise I have for you later,” he smirked against your mouth.

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999 @lavenderbabu @tayleighuh @sebinis-musings

Want to be on my taglist? Comment down below!

[peakyltd]

Storm

John Shelby x Reader

A/N: Hiii! It's been a while. I haven't forget about this account or writing in general but time was not in my favor 🥲 I missed every single one of you and I'm glad I was finally able to finish this. About the one shot: I got my inspiration for this piece from the scene in season 3 under the pier with Arthur, John and Mrs. Changretta.

Warnings: Rage, mentions of war

Words: 1K

A soft breeze found it’s way trough the opened window of the kitchen, gently touching her skin while she was occupying herself to finish the fresh apple pie. She looked up briefly, her eyes catching the peaceful countryside that made the corners of her lips turn into a small smile. The gentle hue of the sun made it look even prettier and she already imagined John and herself sitting outside, enjoying their pie.

She carefully opened the oven before putting it inside, the feeling of the escaping heath against her face warned her to be careful. She wiped her hands on her apron after closing it and focused on the dishes that needed to be cleaned. Once she was almost finished she heard the front door open, letting her know that her husband had arrived.

Heavy footsteps came her way, followed by a soft touch on her lowerback. A smile crept onto her face as she turned to look at him. “Hello darling.” She greeted happily. “Hi love.” He murmured before pressing a light kiss onto her lips. “The apple pie is almost finished so I hope you’re in for it.” She smiled. “Mhm, smells good.” The lost look in his eyes and the lack of enthusiasm told her everything she needed to know.

While she dried her hands, John turned to leave the kitchen. “John, wait.” She called after him, stepping away from the counter. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes scanned his face, worried about his well being. “It’s nothin’'.” He took his cap off, holding it tightly in his hand while his jaw tensed. “Rough day today, that’s all.”

She gently grabbed his hand while stroking it with her thumb, a way to soothe him. “What happened?” She wondered. “Just business, just… leave it, yeah?” His eyebrows were knitted together while his response sounded rather annoyed. He turned away from her to continue his way out. “I can see it bothers you, love. You know you can talk to me.” She carefully tried again in hopes he wouldn’t torture himself with his own thoughts.

In a swift motion he turned around, throwing his cap her way and pointing his finger in her direction. While she tried to dodge his cap, his eyes widened and his face flushed with rage. “Shut up! Yeah?! Fuckin’ shut up!” His voice was loud while his breath quickened. “I told you it’s fuckin’ business. Now fuck off!”

She gulped at his sudden outburst, her eyes widened in hazy uncertainty. Neither of them making the first move to leave the kitchen. His narrowed eyes were overshadowed by anger but she noticed the glint of sadness lacing them. The tension in his face slowly faded while he looked at the woman he loved so dearly, knowing she meant well but his anger was getting the best of him too easily.

He turned around and left the space, eager to get outside. The sound of the heavy door slamming shut made her turn to watch him trough the window as he threw the first object he could find along the gravelly path, followed by many curse words and shouting.

A deep sigh fell off her lips while she felt the concern gnaw at her. The funny, charming and above all; sweet guy was still there but since his return from war, his ability to regulate his anger was barely there. He claimed he didn't came back with a trauma like his brothers but for his loved ones it became more visible with each outburst.

Sometimes she could calm him, sometimes he knew he just needed time and sometimes none of them knew how to handle it.

Her hand carefully rested on his broad back, letting him know that she was there. She kept quiet, not wanting to disturb his peace as she sat down next to him on a log. His head hung low, resting against his hands.

“You deserve better, y’know.” A low mumble came from his lips. “How can I get something better when I already have the best?” She looked at his frame while gently stroking his back. He shook his head softly. “Not the time for sarcastic jokes, eh.”

“It’s not sarcastic nor a joke.” She tilted her head, noticing his tear stained face. Her chest felt hollow at the sight as she wrapped her arms around him, carefully pulling him against her body. He rested his head against her chest, his arms finding their ways around her waist.

“He wanted me to kill her.” He confessed after a while. “I couldn’t do it, she’s a good woman.” Her hand gently stroked his hair. “Who?”

“Mrs. Changretta. She was our teacher. I remember her giving us sweets and…” He stopped, allowing himself to take a deep breath. “I fuckin’ threatened her, she was fuckin’ scared but I couldn’t do it.” He sat up straight.

She took his hand, stroking it softly with her thumb. “You made a good decision.” He turned his head to look at her, eyes tired and sore. “Her husband is dead, Arthur did it.” She nodded hesitantly at his words. “How is that a good decision?” Her gaze held his, no good excuse coming to mind. “You saved her.”

He looked down at his shoes, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe.”

Spoken words made place for silence as they held each others hand. The soft breeze found its way to them, slowly blowing trough their hair while the sun gently caressed their skin.

“I didn’t mean it.” John spoke up, turning his attention back to her. “I know I can’t take it back but I didn’t want you to shut up or fuck off. Not any of that. I’m sorry.” She squeezed his hand softly. “I know. It’s fine.” She assured him.

“You fuckin’ surprised me with apple pie which smelled so damn good and I just treat you like shit.” Her knuckles gently stroked his cheek while his remorseful gaze took her in. "I forgive you."

"I'll do better, I fuckin' promise." He added, his hands finding their way to the sides of her face, lips connecting with hers as they melted into a deep, meaningful kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, John.” She smiled, giving him one more kiss. His arms wrapped around her body, pulling her closer to him as their bodies connected in a way that made the monster in him fall silent.

Tagging some people who might like it, obviously no pressure to read it if it's not your cup of tea! @brummiereader @call-sign-shark @peakyswritings @zablife @emotionalcadaver @runnning-outof-time @tea-atfive @raincoffeeandfandoms @lovemissyhoneybee

[wheezyseeker99]

Jealous

Warnings: pda to exhibitionism, swearing, teasing, fingering (female receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (fm) {it’s giving breeding too idk}

18+, MDNI

Summary: just jealousy inspired this one? His pov too because why not?

I don’t like the way he’s looking at her. Tonight she’s supposed to be mine. I’m supposed to be giving her attention, but she’s laughing at something this dumbass said to her across the bar.

I can’t pull my eyes from her. Her hair half up in a clip. Her dress that hugs her curves and her ass just right. Her sweet smile that I want to only be for me. I look over at the bartender and I clench my fists. He clearly wants her.

She was just sitting next to me a few minutes ago eating her dinner before she went to grab me a beer from the bar. I should’ve done it myself. She took my wallet so maybe this guy will see my name on my card and know she’s mine.

Her eyes reach mine from across the room and I tilt my chin up, puffing my chest out. I can see the way she bites her lip, but then the motherfucker distracts her again.

My blood boils in my veins. It’s not her fault that men hover near her, but fuck, do I get jealous.

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s when dudes try to swing in and disrespect my soon-to-be wife all the time, and it pisses me off. Just because she’s the full package of a woman doesn’t mean they need to prey on her. The ring should ward them off, but apparently I need to buy her a larger rock to wear on her hand.

Call me obsessed, but nobody will ever get to taste her again as along as I’m alive. The ones that came before me have a death wish, and so do the ones that think they can steal her from me. She’s mine. It’s animalistic, the way I think about her in situations like these. She’s everything I need to survive. I’m so damn possessive when it comes to her.

I glance back over as he hands her a beer, and she turns to walk back to me. I don’t drag my eyes away from her this time. I step out of the booth when she walks up and she slides in while sitting down my drink and wallet.

“Thanks baby,” I say and kiss her forehead. I turn my head back to the bar for a moment and the bartender is still looking at her. I slide into the booth after her and place a hand over her bare thigh, giving it a squeeze. I lean down and place a couple kisses on her neck before claiming her lips with mine. I pull away and take a sip from my drink. She looks at me questionably.

“What’s going on Cam?”

“Nothing, just need you today.”

She hums like she doesn’t completely believe me. I wouldn’t believe me either. My body is still on fire and it’s taking everything in me not to walk across the room to the bartender and throw punches.

She takes my hand, holding it in hers for a moment until she puts it back down on her thigh. I don’t say anything, I just tuck her hair behind her ear with my other hand and give her a chaste kiss.

“You know I know you’re jealous, right?”

“Of course you do,” I chuckle and place my forehead on hers, “you know everything about me.”

“You know everything about me too. So tell me what I’m thinking,” she says while placing a kiss to my jaw.

“You’re always thinking dangerous thoughts,” I tell her in a low tone.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Shes taunting me. It riles me up when she thinks she can be in control. I won’t allow that. I release my grip on her thigh and slide my hand below her dress. Usually she wears shorts under her dresses, but she didn’t tonight.

“Right here baby?”

She nods her head, giving me approval to keep going. She moves further into the booth and picks up her fork to keep eating her meal, looking at me expectantly.

I didn’t expect her to want me to finger her under the table, but I’m not objecting to it. Nobody will know a thing unless they see where my hand is. I cup her pussy under her dress and she whimpers quietly. I hold her eyes with mine as my hand moves aside the wet lace of her panties, tracing a finger up and down her slick folds. While picking up my beer with my right hand and take a drink, I circle her clit with my left hand. I place the bottle back down before I talk again.

“Is this what you wanted baby?”

She nodded her head in confirmation, not saying a word. I kiss her temple before pulling back to look at her. She’s biting her bottom lip. I want to taste her so bad.

“More?”

She nods again. I insert two fingers inside of her and I can tell she’s holding back a gasp. Fuck, that’s hot. I move them slowly in and out of her. She grasps my wrist under the table when I hook my fingers inside her.

“Anything else before I get the check for you two,” the waitress says from beside me and my eyes snap to her. My fingers still inside of my girl as her hand comes down to my thigh. I can feel her pussy clenching around my fingers. Shit. She definitely thought we were going to get caught just now.

“No just the check,” I say and take another swig of my beer. The waitress nods and turns away, then I take the opportunity to move my fingers faster. I move over so my mouth is next to her ear, “you know what’s going to happen baby?”

Her legs are starting to shake. I hook my fingers again, over and over. She doesn’t reply so I keep going. I circle my thumb around her clit and she gasps at the contact.

“You’re going to cum for me right here before the waitress gets back, and then I’m going to take you home and fill you up,” I growl into her ear and press a kiss just below it, “and baby, you’re going to take it like the good girl you are.”

Her head rolls onto my shoulder and her eyes squeeze closed as she bites her lip. I don’t need to hear her tell me she’s about to finish, I can feel it on my fingers. Her body shakes and she whimpers into my shoulder. Watching her cum is an addiction that I never want to be cured of. This is exactly what I wanted. I feel my dick twitch in my pants. I need to be inside her.

“That’s it, ride it out baby. I’ve got you.”

I kiss down her neck and pull her underwear back over her pussy. Slowly, I lift my fingers to my mouth and lick her cum off of them. She watches me until her eyes catch on the waitress coming back to the table. I fish out my wallet without looking at the check and give her more than enough cash for the bill and her tip.

“Have a good night you two,” she says and leaves again. I make sure she’s gone before I swing back the rest of the beer. I grab my girl’s hand and drag her to the car. Before we even get to the car she’s digging into my pocket to get the key. I laugh at her enthusiasm. I open the door for her and close it before getting in on the drivers side.

“Do you think you can wait until we get home sweetheart?”

As much as I need to unload inside of her and watch her eyes roll back into her head, car sex isn’t her favorite. That, and we’re also not far from home.

“No promises Cam. You have 5 minutes until I lose my control.”

There it is. There’s my feral girl. I smile and start driving. Not even a minute down the road she releases her hair from her hair clip, and her hand starts stroking me over my pants. It’s impossible, how hard she gets me.

“Slow down or I’ll cum in my pants. You know you want it inside you baby,” I grit out.

She hums to herself but continues to touch me. I gulp and try to stay focused, but it’s hard to do that. Literally. The feeling of her hands always makes me hard. And shit, sometimes the thought of feeling her body against mine makes it hard for me to even breathe. She really does have me wrapped around her finger.

I pull in my parking spot, and before I could even cut off the engine, my girl is out of the car. I unlock the door and immediately attach my mouth to hers. My hands dig into her hips as I slam the door shut behind us, my mouth never leaving hers.

We don’t make it to the bedroom. I thought we would make it to the couch at least, but we fell to the rug in the living room, her straddling my hips. Her lips break from mine and are on my chest after she peels off my shirt. She peppers soft kisses across it, and then she trails kisses up my collarbone and the base of my throat. Her fingertips run down my stomach, making the path to set me free from the confines of my pants.

I love it when she doesn’t keep her hands to herself.

I tug off her dress and take her breasts into my hands around the same time she unbuckles my belt. I suck a nipple into my mouth and she grips my head. I feel her grinding onto me. This is driving me wild.

“Jesus Christ,” she screams as I bite down on the stiff peak.

“He has nothing to do with this right now darling,” I flick it gently with my tongue before moving over to the other, “who’s making you feel this good?”

“Cam,” she moans and I moan too. Our bodies are overheating despite being almost naked. She smells so good like this. Sweat, vanilla, and sex. Her fingers curl into the sweaty hair at the nape of my neck and she tugs.

“Oh?” I ask and smirk against her skin, “are you going to cum from just this? I’ve barely begun to touch you baby.”

She nods and tugs my hair again. She’s everything to me. Fucking perfect.

”I love it when you pull my hair. It means you’re close.”

Holy shit, I want to taste every inch of her. Desperately. I slide my hands to her hips and moved her against me until her body shakes. She’s soaking through her panties when I lay her on her back. Pulling off the rest of my clothes is a task, but I manage it and then take off her soaking panties.

My pretty girl is still panting on the rug. I bring her lips to mine in another soul-satisfying kiss. I groan into her mouth because fuck, her lips are heavenly. Her leg hooks around my waist and she grinds into me, gliding my dick against her wetness. It wasn’t enough to ease the ache. I can feel every fucking inch of her beneath me and I need more. I’m so selfish. I can’t get enough. She gasps against my lips when I release her lips from mine.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I tell her. I grip her chin between my fingers, forcing her pretty eyes to meet mine. I run a finger over her bottom lip as she watched me, “that’s right, look at me. You belong to me.”

I’m too far gone for her, and I’ve had enough teasing. It’s beyond time to give my needy girl what she needs. What I need. I pushed into her slowly with a groan and she writhes beneath me.

“More Cam, please,” she breathes.

Somewhere in my consciousness, I know I’m going to bust in a matter of minutes, but I’ll keep going until she sees stars. I give in and speed up almost instantly, keeping a steady pace just how she likes it. She bucks her hips into me, taking me deeper with every thrust.

“That’s my girl,” I mumble, “take everything I give you.”

She clenches around my cock and it feels too good. It’s always too good. So wet and warm, and each stroke makes my spine tingle. I reach my hand between us and place my thumb on her clit. Her hands tug on the strands of my hair again. Yeah, she’s going to cum soon.

A guttural noise comes out of my throat and speed up my thrusts. My head falls to her chest. I’m almost on the edge, but the selfish part of my brain needs her to cum first.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” I moan into her skin. Every roll of our hips is sending me into a never ending spiral.

I love being deep inside her. I love the way we fit together. I love her.

“Cum,” I command her. She whines out my name softly before crying out. I watch her as she climaxes. Her eyes roll back and her legs shake. She clenches hard around me and I hold onto her thighs while riding out her orgasm. I continue my thrusts, pounding into her.

“Fill me up Cam,” she whimpers.

I bring my mouth back to hers once again and I see stars. I cum into her immediately. I feel like I’ll never stop. Fuck, she’s ruined me. She drags her lips down the column of my throat as I cum into her. I sink deeper and still my thrusts inside her.

My head falls into the crook of her neck. I can’t stop cumming. My climax makes my body shake in pleasure. I never want it to stop. Everything feels so intense.

I don’t know how many minutes we stay in the same position. I feel like I melted into her. I roll over on the rug next to her and place tender kisses on her shoulder, and then bring her ring finger up to my lips, “so good. I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I shouldn’t have been jealous, huh baby?”

“Nope but I enjoyed the outcome,” she laughed, “now we need to go up to bed and do it again.”

My eyes flare at her, “at least give me 5 minutes to recuperate. You’re filled already.”

“Fill me more.”

She gives me a little smirk and leans up to bite my bottom lip. My feral girl. Tonight definitely isn’t stopping here.

She’s going to be the death of me, and I’m perfectly okay with that.

[eunoiaflow3r]

trade - fred weasley x reader

requests open!

taglist

warning(s): language, not edited, smut

word count: 1.1k

request(ed): “rough sex with fred? 😊”

summary: kitchen sex lol

————————————————————————————

Summers for you meant counting down the days til the cooler weather and staying with the Weasley’s. Your first year you became really close with Hermione and hence Harry and Ron as well. The four of you became a unit and would hardly be seen without each other.

Right now, you were in the Weasley’s kitchen late at night looking for some juice. Usually it’d be gone, but you saved yourself some and hid it from everyone so you could drink it later…except now you couldn’t find it at all.

“Looking for this?” You turned to find Fred, shirtless, pajama pants hanging low, with your mason jar of juice in his hand. Everyone knew you liked drinking out of them so you know Fred knows it’s yours.

“Give it up Fred…” Your relationship with Fred was rocky. He played pranks on you most times, and teased you others. Still, you couldn’t deny the attraction even though he annoyed the hell out of you.

You walk towards him and try to grab your drink but he holds it way over your head making it impossible for you to reach. You try but notice your shirt going up as you do.

He grins.

“That’s mine ya’know.”

“Molly gave it to me.” you say.

“Hmm, looks better on you.”

He takes a sip of your juice and you know he’s behaving this way to tease you. From the moment he laid his eyes on you he was mentally undressing you. You knew what this was going to lead to.

He takes a step closer to you and places his hands on your waist. Once he sees you have no objection he switches you two around so that your now pressed agains the counter.

Fred leans down so that his mouth was next to your ear. “How about a trade…shirt for juice?”

Before you could answer he was pressing kisses down your neck and kissing the exposed skin as he unbuttoned the shirt. You tried hard not to moan but let a few slip..this only egged him on. You forgot all about the juice as his mouth went lower down your body until he had you lifted on the counter and he was right above your pussy.

“May I?” he asks.

“Please…”

He gently slides off your panties and tucks them in his pocket discreetly. He presses wet kisses along your thighs until finally making his way back to your pussy where he takes urgency to your clit, not wasting any time as he flicks it with his tongue. You cover your mouth with your hand as to keep the moans in and after a couple minutes you just couldn’t take it anymore. He was doing a marvelous job, but you wanted more.

“Fred, fred, fuck me please.” You whisper.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you?”

He helps you down from the counter and kisses you, hard, his hand finds your hair and pulls so that you were completely in his control staring up at him while his tongue danced with yours.

He spun you around so that you were facing the counter.

“Bend over for me baby.”

He massages one of your breasts while he reaches for a condom from his pockets. Why he has one just in there…you don’t know but you were growing impatient. You wanted him…bad.

He pulls down his pants and you could tell he was rubbing himself but you were too nervous to turn around and look. You could hear as he rolled the condom on and anticipated his next move.

“You ready?”

You already knew you were wet enough - his mouth had made sure of it - you were so ready.

You nod.

“Wanna hear you say it love.”

“I’m ready Fred, please give it to me.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He pulled your hips towards him so that you were leaning forwards more, and pressed the head of his cock into your pussy. He pushed in and again, you covered your mouth to hide your moan. He kept going and you wondered if it was ever going to stop. He felt so good and he was so long you wanted to scream.

Once he was all the way in he paused, wanting you adjusted, until he pulled out again and started to keep a rhythm. He leant towards you and you could hear him moan which only turned you on more.

“Fuck baby you feel so good, so wet for me right now.”

And you were. You could hear it. And fuck did you never want this to stop. You were reaching towards the counter, towards anything that might steady you - he began to go faster, rougher, he pulled your hair and moaned your name and you wondered if he was worried about getting caught but also feeling yourself nearing climax.

He hit that spot in you every time and you were almost there. Almost.

“Harder Freddy, please…fuck me harder.”

“Shit.”

Fred casted a protection and silencing spell on the kitchen. There was no way he could continue without exposing the two of you. You wanted it hard? That’s the way you were going to get it.

He pulled you back more so now your body was angled and he slowed his rhythm while rubbing your clit. Once your moans were steady again he went faster until you were practically wanting to scream, and squeezing his cock.

“Fuck, I’m going to come Fred. I’m gonna come.”

“You gonna come? Let’s do it together Y/N.”

He rubs your clit faster and you can feel yourself black out as pleasure overwhelms you. When he feels you squeeze his cock as you cum he pulls out moaning as he cums into the condom.

“Fuck, Y/N, fuck.”

You smile as you try to calm yourself down. You were both sweaty and breathing uncontrollably. You could barely even stand anymore. You leaned against the counter and watched as he tugged his pants on and threw the condom away. He found you the shirt and helped you put it on and button it up.

“My panties?” You ask. He thinks you didn’t see him steal them but you did.

“Mmm gotta trade me something for them.”

You roll your eyes.

“A kiss?” he asks.

You smile and reach up so that your hands were on either side of his face and you bring him down so that you can kiss him. It was long and deep and almost had you ready for part two.

You pulled away and he fake pouted. You walked towards your drink and took a long drink. Fred came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, while pressing kisses against your neck.

“Come to bed with me? I can give you a more comfortable shirt…less buttons?”

[vxntagedior]

Hey, could you do an Xavier Thorpe x f!reader. The reader has the ability to turn invisible, and she doesn’t have complete control over it. So she turns invisible when she is nervous. Then when they have their first kiss she turns invisible, and she’s embarrassed and he comforts her in like a playful way and it just ends in fluff. - love your work <3

ghostin'

summary | xavier always make you nervous and when you're nervous, you turn invisble

pairing | xavier thorpe x fem!ghost!reader

warning | fluff, established relationship angst-ish to fluff

word count | 540

All your friends teased you whenever they saw you turn invisible whenever someone mentioned Xavier. The two of you were fairly new into your relationship and haven’t really told him about your abilities. 

He knew that you were able to pass through hard matter objects, turn things invisible but not knowing you could turn yourself invisible. 

It was never something you had control of since you were a child. It started when you were around 5, and your grandmother came over and your mother started to tell her an embarrassing  story, and you just turned invisible right in front of them. 

“Stop.” You reappeared in front of them. “It’s embarrassing, what is gonna think, “Oh sorry Xavi, everytime I wanna kiss you I turn invisible.”

“Exactly, see he’s right there, hey Xavier!” Your eyes wide, seeing him walking over to the table. 

“Hi.” He slid into the stop next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You were trying hard to compose yourself, calming your heart. 

“Xavier, Y/n was just telling us-”

“Shut up.” You sneered, you glared at them, sometimes you wondered when they knew to stop. “C’mon.”

Pulling Xavier up, your friends mocked kissing faces to each other. 

“What was that about?” He tilted his head back towards their direction. 

“They were just messing with me.” You sighed, knowing you needed to come clean to him. “I’m about to tell you something and please do not make fun of me for it.”

Xavier silently nodded, letting you continue. 

“When I was a baby, I didn’t much control over my abilities and still really don’t to this day, but I swear it’s nothing weird and if is it, you can leave, leave this relationship, I totally understand if-”

You were starting to ramble and Xavier noticed, cupping your jaw with his hands, Xavier leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. 

Letting out a gasp, your eyes were wide, your brain starting to function again when you kissed him. 

Letting your eyes close, you wrapped your hands around his wrist.

Stepping away for a breath, Xavier pulled away, opening his eyes. 

“What the fuck!” He gasped, Your eyes were wide, looking down not seeing your body. “Where did you go?”

“I’m here.” He could hear your voice but couldn’t see you, “That was what I was trying to tell you, I turn invisible when I get nervous.”

Xavier’s eyes were glued to the stop you were in, watching as you appeared right in front of him. “And I get nervous a lot when I’m around you, I’m sorry if that weirded you out.”

Still saying nothing, you started to feel embarrassed, “It’s fine, just I’ll go.”

“Wait!” Xavier hands wrapped around your wrist, spinning you back to face him. “It’s not weird, I think it’s kinda cute.”

“Really.” You melted into his touch, “I was so worried about telling you, I thought you were gonna get creeped out.

“I love it.” He smiled, “You’re like Casper.”

Your face dropped, pulling your hand from his, starting to walk away. 

“Wait, I'm sorry.” He smiled running after you. 

“Do not, ever compare to that.” You were trying not to laugh seeing the sullen puppy eyes. “I’m way better than him.”

[ashsimpsalot]

Home to home (Monkey Man Kid X Reader)

A/n: that scene where his ptsd got triggered.

didn't know what to tittle this so it's based in the song I listened to while I'm wriitng:

He can't breathe

He can't breathe

Fuck!

He can't fucking breathe!

In through the nose. Out through mouth, Kid.

Breathe, you big baffoon! You've done this before, a million fucking time, BREATHE!

"Fuck!" he raged next to the dumpster, his throat is closing up. He feels his lungs falling apart. Stupid cigarettes!

Fuck this can't be it, this can't be how he goes.

He looks down at what he assumes to be his hands, are they? They're too blurry, shit is it his hands shaking making them blurry? Is it his eyes?

He needs to breathe

He needs to fucking breathe

He needs to

He needs..

You

He needs you

Kid reached into his back pocket, feeling a cold metal object against his fingertips he just fished them out. Hoping that it is his phone. By pure luck he tried searching for you contact number, pressing the phone to his ear desperately after

He hears it ring

Fuck what time is it?

How long has it been?

A month? Two months? Since he told you his stupid desire to seek out his mother's murderers?

'you can't do this to me, Kid. We fought so fucking hard! Remember? The orphanage, the poverty. We were homeless at some point! You can't-you can't up and leave when we're finally stable like this,'

he remembers your frantic eyes searching into his empty ones. You're desperate to keep him in this life, this dream you two built together. The guilt of surviving yet not avenging his mother's death left a heavy feeling in his chest, so heavy he spent weeks on the bed, barely leaving, eating, taking care of himself. It was you, you took care of him.

And he decided to get on his feet and throw everything out for revenge.

Ungrateful bastard.

He hears the phone rang. Why is it still ringing? You wouldn't have the heart to leave him hanging... Right?

'I swear, Kid, I won't search for you if you step out of that door.' fuck that's right, you swore-

"hello?" your voice drowsy with sleep. He can imagine it, your hair spilled everywhere on that floral pillow, sleeping in one of his big shirt with only some shorts under. Eyes barely open.

"hello? Don't play with me right now, I'm sleepy as fuck." the irritation in your voice makes it clear that you didn't open your eyes to see the caller ID.

He called your name, fighting against the dryness of his throat.

"Kid? What time is it? Are you okay? What's going on?" he could hear you waking up by each word you said. "why are you breathing like that, are you hurt?"

He didn't even realise the wheezing he was making.

"can't.. Breathe.." he croaked out.

"Kid? Baby, hey, follow me, huh? Breathe in through your nose, hold, out through your mouth."

He's been repeating that to himself but somehow when you do it, it works, he could finally breathe at least a little. You guided him multiple times until he thinks he's stable enough.

"where are you? Queenie's hotel?" of course you knew, when he told you about his plan he told you everything. No matter how angry you are at him you remember everything he says.

Kid nods before realising you can't see him. "yeah.." he keeps trying to steady his breath. "I'm coming."

"cheeni, no-"

"shut up, I'm coming," he heard the final stern tone in your voice and didn't bother fighting back.

He stayed on the phone the whole time, staring out somewhere, his breathing even but mind is as messy as a jungle. He realised you stayed on the phone too. He only murmured a few words when you asked him where he was

He had no idea how long he was sitting on that curb.

"Kid, hey," your voice reel half of him back into the cold night. You have your hand cupping his cheek, trying to get him to look at you.

"hey, I'm here,"

He sighed when he felt the familiar pattern, a kiss to the forehead, another to the nose and two for the lips. Your fingers buried in his curls. "hey, bandhar, you hear me?" he finally looked at you.

"I saw.. My maa in her." he whispered, eyes locked with yours. You had no idea who he was referring to but you nodded. "okay, come on, baby." you simply said, trying to get him on his own feet. "you finished your shift?"

He simply nodded. Wordlessly got onto his feet, clutching onto your waist.

"I saw maa," his head hung low, curls covering his face, his tall figure that always seems to stand unapologetically is slumped.

You cupped his cheek with one had, brushing your thumb against his cheek.

"bandhar, look at me." you called sweetly, trying to get his attention. He finally lifted his head to look at you, his once slicked back hair had return to their original floof.

Though you do realise his hair is a little dry.

"how about you get on my bike hm? I'll take you home. Get you something to eat, run a cold shower, we'll lay down together and you can tell me about your day." you looked at him, his eyes never left your. Both of your hands had cupped his cheek at this point.

"i can go home?" his vouce sounded so tiny, unlike the man you know. You nodded and planted a kiss on his forehead

"of course baby, anytime," you simply said, heart breaking that he thought you'd be so cruel to deny him of his own home.

He didn't say much the whole ride, just hugged you from behind tightly, buried his face into your neck, letting the wind go through his hair.

Once you're home you guided him by his hand. He just mindlessly followed. You changed him, gave him a cup of water and now end up on the bed with him, his face laying on your stomach, basically draping over you like a blanket.

"I saw her," he whispered, hating how insane he sounded. "heard her screams again," he continues. Running your fingers through his soft hair, you felt guilty, what were you thinking? Letting a man with severe PTSD and survivor guilt roam around by himself after admitting that he has thoughts on revenge? And the fact that he was barely leaving the bed 3 weeks prior. That's an obvious red flag.

You took his hand and kissed his palm, letting him say what he needs to, letting him come back to you as he wants to.

"I'm sorry," you quietly say, caressing his hand. Kid looks up to you confused.

"I should've tried to understand you, instead I blew it out of proportion and argued with you, asking you to choose resulting in you leaving? It's so stupid" you continued.

Kid shook his head, he drew circles on your hip, his head laid back on your stomach. "you have your own issues too. I knew... About your families just up and abandoning you, fleeing the country and stuffs and in a way maybe you see me putting myself at risk as leaving you," his said, eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought.

You hummed, playing with his hair again. Twirling one of the curls that strayed.

"I guess when you meet at an orphanage you just kind of have baggage," you tried joking but he nodded, taking it seriously. "it's true," and he turned to look at you, pushing himself up.

Repeating the pattern you both have been doing since you were 16, just two orphans sneaking kisses around in the orphanage, one kiss on the forehead, one for the nose and twice on the lips.

"im glad I met you, you're the only good thing that came out of this whole thing. You're my anchor, you know that?" he asked, kissing you after. You've missed this, the pressure of his kiss on your lips.

You smiled, caressing his cheek softly. "you're my whole world," you replied, smile flattening. "you promise, you won't leave? You won't take these unnecessary risks?" you cant go through another month of not knowing what he was doing. Worry that he might have fuck with the wrong people and end up dead at the side of the street of Mumbai somewhere.

He nodded and kissed your forehead, his fingers tracing circles on your soft stomach. "I promise, cheeni, I promise,"