#likely continuation to the shut down of the camp

[genderless-naper]

candle shopping pt.2

trafalgar law x strawhat!reader

warnings: wax play, slight voyeurism

nsfw smut, wc: 3k, lowercase intended!

law tried his best to stay away from you after what happened, but what was he to do when you walked in on him moaning your name

you can find pt1 here!

your last encounter with law was certainly the least of your expectations. you two avoided each other like the plague since then. maybe law avoided you because of the sheer embarrassment of what had happened. he would never forget what happened while hiding under the blanket with you, and he knew you wouldn’t forget either. still he likes to light his candle up during his times in which he isolates himself from the crew. the smell teleporting him to his memories with you.

sometimes the scent is strong enough to smell just by passing by in the hallway. the earthy forest scent with hints of fresh water would have you stopping in your tracks. blood rushing to your face just from thinking about it. from thinking about him.

law knew there was no point in giving anymore thought to what happened. the past is the past, right? if anything he figured he ruined any ounce of friendliness he established with you.

so then why did he find himself rock hard sitting on his chair whenever he lit the candle up? the sounds of your moans echoing in his ear. he can hardly resist ghosting his hand along his hard member.

he sits back with legs wide open while letting the smell of the candle intoxicate him. he massages the bulge on his pants while imaging the lewd faces you would make because of him. he wanted to feel you under him. under his control.

he kept his eyes shut to continue to fantasize about you as he unzipped his jeans. he snaked them down to reveal his member without restraints. oh how perfect you looked in his mind. it was no wonder he was as hard as the day he was stuck in bed with you.

he continued his usual routine. imaging you in his mind as he pleased himself absolutely desperate to re-experience what he did that day. hoping the candle smell could help him achieve time travel. it was the usual routine. he did everything like he always did. everything was how it was supposed to be except for one factor.

law didn’t factor in how he left the door unlocked. he always did, and never once was interrupted. he never gave it a second thought. he never would expect for you to walk in on him.

you didn’t plan on looking for law at that moment. you tried to avoid him as much as possible. every time you locked eyes you could see what had happened dance on his eyes. avoiding was the best to keep the blood rising to your face and the wetness out your panties. the last thing you wanted was to be near him. instead you helped crew mates in your free time. the only reason you were sentenced to the library, where law camped at, was because chopper needed a specific book of herbal medicine.

you stopped right before the door. the smell of the candle lingered out into the hallway. you felt slightly better knowing law still used it, and the candle didn’t end up being a waste. placing your hand in the knob you open it quietly without knocking. you expected law to be hunched over with books and coffee cups all around him. so you would avoid him like the plague.

what you didn’t expect to see was him violently stroking his hard-on while sprawled back on his chair. sweat covered his tattoo figure as he tries to reach the high he once experienced with you, but ultimately failing every time. his arm covered his eyes while he let quiet moans escape his lips. completely unaware of your presence he fastened his pace. he moaned out your name repetitively, “just like that y/n-ah… keeping going just like that.. fuck you feel so good..”

you watched the man in front of you unravel with thoughts of you assisting him reach his high. you closed the door behind you, and this time it was loud enough to draw the attention of the tattooed man sitting in front of you. he immediately stopped and snapped his head to your direction. seeing you standing by the door made him lose all thought as he slowed down his pace on his member. slowly coming to a stop as he held it up. still painfully hard and swollen at the tip.

he looked at your nervously afraid of what you would think of him now. it was already bad that you avoided him, but seeing him in such a state? he used you to fulfill his own desperate desires, and this time he got caught in the act. he would understand if you slapped him then and there.

he cleared his throat and quickly pull his pants back over his budge while desperately trying to pull the zipper up. he wasn’t sure how much of him you just saw. he glanced at you only to realized you were walking. walking right towards him.

he prepared himself for a blow to the face. he cursed himself mentally for being so negligent of the goddamn door. he didn’t dare look up at you when you stood right in front of him. he simply prepared himself for the worst.

you stood in front of the man sitting with his head low. you couldn’t help but notice his legs still spread with his hard-on pressing against his pants. you bit your lip as the heat between your legs starts to rise.

you cup law’s cheek to bring his face up to look at you. he stared at you taking in every one of your features. he wanted you then and there. he wanted to lock you away so he would be the only one to see that perfect face of yours. these thoughts only made his current sexual state more painful. he winces as you ran your thumb along his cheek. skin-to-skin contact making his bulge more painful.

you lean down to his level and whispered in the most gentle voice to be heard by his ears, “does it hurt law..? i bet it’s really painful baby.” he stared in disbelief not knowing what exactly to say as a response. his stomach did back flips when you eyes him between his legs. you slowly got on your knees to be face to face with whats causing the tattooed man his pain.

you look up at him as you ran a finger up and down his clothed shaft, “is this causing you pain..? were you thinking about me to help you feel better? hm?”

you knew your words were having an effect on him. he bit his lip and tried to compose himself not wanting to look weak in front of you. how could he admit he was all worked up and on the brink of an orgasm yet having to hold himself back because of you?

you lick your lips and stared the man between the legs. the smell of the candle fills your mind with lewd thoughts of your first encounter. you ran your hand and massaged the inside of his thigh. dangerously close to the energy point. you wanted him to feel good, but not yet.

your touches made the man throw his head back as he gripped the sides of the chair. he wanted you to do miracles on his cock. he didn’t notice you voluntarily pulling down his pants to expose his hard-on once again. he looked at you shocked only to see your hungry eyes which eyed him at his bulge. you licked your lips and mumbled quietly, “i want to help you feel good law..” you smirked up to him. you rubbed your thighs together barely able to suppress your moans, “i wanna make you feel good like before, please let me help you” you took his member in your hand and stroked it slowly. law bites his lip as he leans back more in his chair to expose himself to you, “fuck y/n, you always make me feel good even when you aren’t trying..”

you giggled when he admits the power you had over him. you filled his mind every passing minute of the day whether he liked it or not.

you pulled yourself away from the man under your control. his expression a mix of confusion and pain. you lay back to your elbows on the floor in front of him as you slowly run a hand in between your thighs. you bite your lip while holding eye contact with the man above you. you wanted to put on a show for him; something he’d never forget like before. you press your fingers onto your clothed core and let a slight gasp escape your lips. you stare up at his eyes which took every inch of you into detail. you went to unbutton your pants before stopping yourself. you looked up to him and asked him, “can i take these off?”

laws eyes widen slightly. the thought of you asking him if you could please yourself drove him over the edge. he nods slightly as he uses his foot to push one of your legs wide apart. he stared at you like you previously stared at him, “i wanna see you with your fingers in yourself y/n”

feeling your heat increase you wasted no time following his orders. you threw your pants off until you were left with your panties. they already had a wet imprint which hugged against your folds and carved them out persicely. you look back up for permission which you’re then met with a nod from the man. you pulled your wet panties off; shivering from the cold air hitting your drenched folds. law reached his hand out for the panties. you handed them to him obediently imagining all the things he would do with them when he would be alone.

you licked your finger and gently circle it around your clit. you were slow and careful just wanting to take in the feeling. you hear the man above you growl slightly, “i said i wanna see you fuck yourself, not play games with your goddamn self” law had already had his hand holding his shaft. he wanted to hear you moaning out for him. he knew you wanted to be his entertainment.

you inserted a digit into yourself. gasping as you adjusted to your own finger. the man in front of you start to stroke his member with every movement you made with your finger. his hand was slow since he was more focus on what you were yet to show him. he stared hungrily as you inserted another finger. you felt the knot in your stomach form as you moved your fingers in and out your wet walls. you moaned out starting to forget of the man in front of you, “it feels s-so good! i need to go faster…” law watched as you threw your head back while letting filthy moans leave your perfect lips. you uncreased your rhythm and curled your fingers so you could chase your high. you weren’t that experience with pleasing yourself, and it was obvious to him when you started to whine and get frustrated while chasing your high.

law wanted you to feel as good as you looked, so he ordered you to stop. you looked up at him confused. did you mess something up? law stood up and leaned down and pick you up. he gently placed you on the table in front of him while wrapping your legs around his waist.

he looked at the lit candle placed at the corner of the table. he reaches for it as he pushed your shirt off you. you lay in front of him with nothing but your bra on. he looked down proudly once again having you laid beautifully naked in front of him.

you eyed the candle confused at what the tattooed man was doing with it. he notices your attention on it and smirks, “we should use it y/n.”

you raised your brown, “u-use it? but it’s a candle?

law smirks as he plays with the hem of your bra, “its a lit candle. it would be perfect for this..”

law holds the candle right above your clothed chest and tilts it ever so slightly. he watches as one drop of hot wax hits your soft skin. you wince at the sudden hot liquid on your bare skin, and feel it solidify slowly.

you see his hungrily stare at you as he continues to drip small amounts of the melted wax on your skin. every drop stung you, but it made your stomach do flips. soon your closed chest and stomach were filled with drips of the wax. law stares hungrily at your bra eyeing for you to take it off. you obeyed his hungry gaze and exposed your hidden breasts. the cold air made your nipples harden. he groped one breast and ran his thumb around and over the sensitive bud. you arched your back to him instinctively. law moved his finger away and dripped the hot wax around your bud. he watched as the liquid hardens and take the shape of your hardened nipple. he smirked as you wince under him. every whimper that escaped you would make the man to roll his hips against yours. seeing you subject to his control using the item you gave him made him feel superior. he wasted no time coating your other precious bud in the hot liquid. you moaned out loud due to the heightened sensitivity of the location. once satisfied with coating your figure with the melted substance he places it back to its original location.

law leans back down as he kisses your ear before speaking into it, “ill take care of it from here y/n-ah. it’s you return to sit back and relax.” law ran his manhood along your saturated folds. he rubbed your juices down his shaft so he could easily slip into you. you stared up at him as towered over you while adjusting himself for your entrance. he returned your gaze with compassionate eyes, “do you want me to keep going y/n?”

he was still unsure exactly how you felt.

you nodded and have him the green light. you braced yourself as he slowly pushed himself into you. you engulfed him with no problem just like before. the memories from your first time flooding both your minds. you felt insane to have waited so long to feel like this again when the man was on the same ship as you the whole time. you wince and grab his arm once he pushes the last bit of his manhood in.

law takes a second before he moves. he waits for you to adjust and give him the signal to go. you bite your lip and talk quietly, “it hurts more than last time law..”

a flash of sympathy passes over his eyes. law holds your hand and leans back to your ear, “ill be sure to take it at a good place. i don’t wanna end up hurting my y/n.”

you blush at his assertiveness. he lets you hug his neck as he slowly pulls back to push back in. he makes sure to listen to every noise that escapes you. enjoying every second to its smallest details. the way you hug his neck longing for him. you missed his touch, his scent, and the way he fit perfectly in you. law holds one of your legs up as he picks up the pace wanting to reach into you deeper. the access that came from moving one leg helped law push himself deeper into you. your tight warm walls stretched just for his hard member. the wetness creating lewd sounds that filled the roam in combination with both your moans and pants.

he grunts in your ear as he speaks with a but more stern tone, “can i go faster y/n?”

you whimper under him as you take his member and his pace. you nod desperately as you shut your eyes to feel every inch of his manhood filling you and leaving you empty. you moan out to him and his movements fasten. you feel your core tightening alongside your walls unable to escape his thrusts into you. you moan non-cohesive sentences. law knew you were climbing your high fast. he saw it once before, so he knew what to expect. he pace moved faster as he imagined the last orgasm he shared with you. he thought about the endless amount of times he tried to satisfy himself after that and how none of his attempts came close to feeling like that again. he was going to experience that feeling again. it was going to be with none other than you.

the desk starts to shake as he picks up an aggressive pace. you hold onto him tightly for support afraid you might slip away from him if you let go. although you held onto him you needed more support. law could sense that when you looked at him with those glossed eyes. he connected his lips with yours and kissed you gently while maintaining his pace. he wanted you to know he was there, and he saw you. you moan desperately into the kiss and hug his body closer to you. both your highs approaching dangerously fast. you pull away from the kiss once you feel your knot release and orgasm hit you live a tidal wave. you felt the man above you accidentally empty himself into you as he moans into your ear. law the. sighs tiredly, “shit, i didn’t pull out y/n..”

you keep him close to you as you respond in a muffled voice, “i don’t care about that right now law. it feels so good anyways”

law chuckles at your response as he eases into you clearly exhausted from his own orgasm. this was the second time you both experienced each other in such close proximity.

something told him it wouldn’t be the last time as long as he had his candle lit.

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 24: His Hands Hold My Heart & He Won't Let Go Until It's Scarred

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

“You’re going to sell me to Mephistopheles?”

“Well,” he glances at his nails, eyes half-lidded in bored disdain. “I doubt he’ll take you in the flesh. Look at you—pitiful. But your soul? That, I imagine, might interest him. Perhaps he’ll melt you down and turn you into something more useful. A coin, maybe. A miserable, worthless coin.”

You know you should feel fear, maybe even anger, but all you feel is amusement—dark, hollow, and bitter. It claws its way out of you in a dry, rasping laugh. He thinks he’ll gain something from the sale of your sorry soul? What a joke. You’ve already promised it to someone far worse than Mephistopheles could ever dream of being.

It is a long way to Cania from Avernus. At the very least, it gives you time to bring Astarion home to himself, and you will be inching toward your target in the meantime. What you will do if you arrive at Mephistar still bound and tethered by the leash of compulsion is something you can consider later.

“Think I’d make a fetching coin?” You quip, a sardonic smile playing on your lips.

“Don’t flatter yourself, darling.” Astarion taunts darkly. The malignant red of his eyes swim with an amalgamation of cruelty and malevolence. “You will at the very least be worth something.”

“At least slot me into Karlach, will you? It would tickle me to assist her in killing you.”

Your words are reckless, but instead of backing away, something within you shifts—a gut-wrenching desire to protect him flares up. It’s poisonous, invasive, and you feel disgusted by it. Is this the compulsion Gale warned you about? Twisting you inside out until you can't even tell friend from foe?

Astarion’s laugh is sharp and jagged, like glass shattering in your ears. “You’ve always been amusingly deluded. I could snap your neck right now, and it wouldn’t make a difference to me. Mouthy little spawn like you? There’s no shortage of your kind. If you don’t shut up, I’ll tear that tongue out of your skull.”

You groan with an exasperated roll of your eyes and lay your head down on Shadowheart’s pack like a makeshift pillow. It does little to cushion your head from the stone that somehow retains the sweltering heat, like the fires of Avernus are burning just below it, despite the fact that you’re in a cave.

“Fine, kill me. Or don’t. I’m tired.” You roll your eyes and turn your back on him, though the tense atmosphere and the heat baking the air in the cave make rest seem impossible.

You close your eyes and try to get yourself to drift into some semblance of a trance.

“You cannot be seriously thinking of resting now.” His sharp, derisive scoff cuts through the silence like a whip. “It’s still daylight out.”

You open one eye and glare at him. “There is no day and night cycle here, master.” You mock him openly and marvel at how little fear you possess, even though the grim reaper stares at you with dark eyes and ashen skin as pale as death. "If you want to stay awake and brood, go ahead. I’ll be here, meditating.”

For a moment, Astarion’s gaze lingers on you with something between loathing and interest. His lips curl as if he’s mulling over the quickest way to silence you for good. You flop over dramatically, turning your back to him, and you can feel him behind you, feel his cold eyes boring into your back, but nothing happens.

Keeping your eyes firmly closed is difficult, and you have to make a conscious effort not to open them and check to see if he’s prowling behind you with a dagger in hand. Instead, you focus on his beating heart, offering you the ability to estimate proximity, which has neither increased nor decreased for some time.

Minutes stretch out into an awkward, oppressive silence. And then—without warning—he lays down beside you and presses his back against yours. For a moment you stiffen and wonder if you should pull away, but the steady rise and fall of his breathing are known, soothing even, and you quickly find yourself slowly fading from your weary mind into your trance.

Unfortunately, Astarion’s body heat only adds to the blistering heat, and sweat drips down your face, stomach, arms, and everywhere else you can possibly sweat from. It makes Shadowheart’s clothes, which do not fit you quite right, stick to you and you shift uncomfortably.

“Are you awake?” Astarion murmurs, the words brushing over you like a chill.

You hesitate, not knowing if you truly want to answer. “Yes.”

“It’s hot,” he states, almost accusatory, as if it’s your fault.

“Well, we are in the Hells. This place feels like Grymforge all over again,” you state truthfully in a mumble. Despite your draconic blood, this constant inferno is unbearable.

Your psyche dances closer and closer toward the peaceful oblivion beckoning you as your breath slows and eventually ceases, and you push yourself further into him. You tell yourself that you’re doing it for safety, but the truth is, you’re just wishing for comfort.

He speaks again when you’ve already sunken so low into your trance that your limbs are starting to feel weightless and your head feels like it might be floating above your body.

“I could keep us cool, you know. Just say the word.” He offers, and you recognize the heft of weighty weariness in the lowness of his voice. At first, you’re perplexed, but then you vaguely remember that he can control his body temperature.

In your state of near unconsciousness, you forget which Astarion you are talking to, and your tongue numbed by fatigue answers as if this is your Astarion. “Yes, my love,” you sigh.

Astarion doesn’t answer, but the change in temperature is immediate. His body cools to an almost unnaturally low temperature, relieving you from the relentless heat. Despite your better judgment, you find yourself turning toward him, seeking that comfort. His arms wrap around you, but there’s no warmth in the gesture—just cold hands that grip a little too tight, holding you like a possession. His fingers dig into your back with casual cruelty.

“You are positively pathetic,” he murmurs, his voice soft but dripping with malice. “Clinging to me for comfort like I’m still the man you used to know. Foolish little thing. I could crush you.”

Even in the haze of exhaustion, his words twist into you like a knife in your gut. But your body is too heavy, too numb to react. You’re trapped in this toxic push-and-pull between him—the monster—and the shadow of the man you loved. For now, you let the coolness lull you into a fitful trance, knowing full well you’re lying in the embrace of something dangerous.

When your eyes flutter open again, you can’t even begin to estimate the time you were asleep. Minutes? Hours? Enough time for your body to stiffen. The muscles in your legs burn, and your feet scream with pain as soon as you try to move. You blink through the grogginess and find yourself still entangled with him, his icy presence anchoring you to the sweltering cave floor.

You catch a short glimpse of Astarion more or less in his trance and tilt your head slightly. It never ceases to surprise you when you see that he still looks like himself. In your mind’s eye, you’ve conjured up a monster, but it’s not a monster that lays holding you.

It’s still just Astarion.

He shifts slightly, his brows pinching when your fingers curl into him a little too hard, and his eyes slowly open. Cold eyes meet yours only for a moment before they dart to the cave mouth. The land is pebbled with cooling, molten balls, some still in their spherical shapes, others merely shrapnel spread chaotically, but no more rain down.

Astarion glances back at you with heavily lidded eyes that fall to your lips and hover there. You think he might kiss you, and you think you might let him until he tosses you off him roughly as if you were simply a convenient blanket or maybe a fleshly, undead shield.

“Get up,” he commands. “You’ve wasted enough time lying there like a corpse. We move now.”

Astarion stands abruptly in a way that makes him almost appear frightened, but of what, you cannot say. He tugs his shirt on with hasty movements as if you’re making him uncomfortable, and you reflexively turn around to give him privacy.

Now that shock and adrenaline have abandoned you, the agony that radiates up your legs is nigh-on unbearable when you try to put weight on your feet. You screw your eyes shut, half stooped over, palms braced on your thighs, and pray that you can keep the tears at bay.

Pushing through the pain, you crouch down and stuff what you have back into Shadowheart’s bag, positioning it across your body and standing. You don’t realize your body has betrayed you and tears are clinging to your lashes and vining down your dirty cheeks until you see Astarion’s ugly smirk twisting his lips as he takes in your struggle.

“You look like hell,” he taunts, crossing his arms. “I could compel you, you know. Force your body to ignore the pain. But why would I? Watching you suffer is much more entertaining.” He leans forward slightly, in the way he used to do when he was trying to seduce you in those early days and months. “I will enjoy watching you toil in the consequences of your choice, as I did for centuries. You should count yourself lucky that I haven’t skinned you alive and forced you to walk on the raw, exposed nerves.”

You grit your teeth and stand, barely able to meet his gaze without wanting to snap at him. But snapping at him would only give him more fuel, more satisfaction, so you swallow the pain. "I'm fine. Lead on.”

He chuckles darkly as he strides ahead, not even bothering to slow his pace for you. It turns out you were right about the silk. It didn’t stand a chance against the sawtoothed terrain and is chewed up as easily as your feet were. Every step is agony as you limp after him, the rocks and jagged ground tearing at your flayed feet. You bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out, but Astarion notices.

Of course he does. He always notices when you’re hurting.

“Don’t fall behind, little lamb,” he calls over his shoulder, voice dripping with mockery.

He keeps walking, the distance between you growing as you struggle to keep up. The silence that falls between you is heavy and burdensome, filled only with the sound of your laboured breathing and the distant crackle of molten lava.

As the journey stretches on, Astarion’s cruelty does not wane. When you stumble, he laughs. When you try to rest, he sneers. He takes every opportunity to remind you of your weakness, of your insignificance.

No matter how hard you try to shake it, that feeling of twisted loyalty remains, poisoning your thoughts. And Astarion, ever the predator, revels in your torment, savouring every moment of your slow, painful descent.

You walk for what feels like hours, but in this heat, it could have only been minutes. It’s just you, Astarion, and this landscape of ruin and death as far as the eye can see. The bones of the fallen crunch beneath your feet, and soon, the towering skeleton of a dragon looms ahead, its massive ribs arcing over the desolate ground like the decaying remnants of an ancient titan.

“An ancestor of yours, perhaps?” He arches a brow, his lips twisting in a cruel grin as he watches you squeeze through the dragon’s ribcage.

You shrug, keeping your tone flat. “I’m an orphan. I don’t know my family.”

Astarion stops abruptly, his eyes narrowing in exaggerated surprise. “Oh, an orphan, are we?” His voice is laced with venom. “Well, that does explain a few things.” He lets out a cold, hollow laugh, loud enough to startle you, and you can’t help but wince.

Shit. You forgot that this version of him didn’t know.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, even though you already know you’re walking right into his trap.

He smirks, baring his fangs just enough to be menacing. “It’s just so perfectly tragic, isn’t it? A lonely little orphan, so desperate for affection that she couldn't even recognize the poison behind a pretty face. Easy prey, really. You never stood a chance against me.”

The truth of his words stings more than it should, but you press on, determined not to let him see the hurt it causes. “What’s your point, Astarion?”

“My point?” He steps closer, his tone now gleefully mocking. “That you’re a fool. Did you really believe for even a second that I—he—had feelings for you? A naive little orphan, finally tasting affection for the first time, only to be used like a pawn in a game you were never equipped to play.”

Yes.

You try not to answer and just keep walking forward, between bones, ruins of great weapons, and craters, with your eyes firmly anchored to the ground. If you can keep your mind focused, maybe you will not cry.

“When he held you,” Astarion continues, his voice taking on a cruel, sing-song quality, “when you fell asleep in his arms... did you really believe that meant something?”

“Yes!” You snarl, but keep yourself turned away. He’s opened an old wound that never quite fully heals, and it bleeds through your eyes in the form of tears. “I thought I had finally found someone who cared about me. I was naive, and I didn’t recognize it as a trick at the time. You got me good. Are you happy now, Astarion? Is that what you want to hear?”

He sneers, his expression a twisted mask of disgust. “Pitiful wretch,” he mutters, though there’s a flicker of something—almost imperceptible—beneath the scorn in his eyes.

You squeeze through the ossified jaws of the dragon and wonder what the beast would have looked like alive, which brings you to a more concerning question: what in the Hells could have killed it? The only consolation that allays any true unease is that the beast has been dead for countless years. Whatever took it down is hopefully long gone.

Astarion takes the lead once more, and you realize he has not used his compulsion to force you to follow. You consider running, but where would you run to? He’s already taking you where you need to go, or trying to, at least. If you can make this version of him trust you, it might give you a chance to bring back your husband in time for a honeymoon in the hells.

How delightful.

The soles of your feet are little more than flaps of hanging skin. Your legs are wobbly as a newborn colt, and you stumble more frequently now, the heat, blood loss, and fatigue all merging into one sickening blur. You’re barely holding on.

You eventually come upon something that resembles a forest, but the trees are gruesomely twisted with orange leaves that seem to be constantly searing around the edges. When you peer between the trees, the gloom that clings between the trees feels unnatural, like a living thing, waiting to devour anything that strays too close.

Astarion looks around for a moment. “It will take us much longer to go around at your plodding pace. We will have to go through it.”

“No.” You grab his arm, voice high and desperate, and shake your head. “This isn’t a good idea. We have no idea what lives in there. We should just go around.”

He grins, a dark gleam in his eyes. “Oh, are we frightened, my little pet? Don’t worry. With me by your side, what could possibly harm you? Besides, of course, me.” He winks, and then without another word, he strides in, disappearing almost instantly.

You consider going around. If Astarion wants to die in there, that’s his business, but once again, that feeling squirms in your gut, leaving you rooted to the ground and unable to move unless it’s towards him.

A moment later, glowing red eyes pierce the gloom, and Astarion emerges with an irritated scowl. “Are you coming, or shall I make you?” His voice is laced with the threat of compulsion.

That is enough to coerce you to reluctantly step forward and into the gloom. You conjure a flame in your hand to light the way, but the shadows swallow the light almost instantly. It’s not long before you start to see the calcified corpses and strange-looking fungal pods that this place is made of. There is an eerie breeze, though it does not cause the trees to ruffle, that sounds like the wailing of tortured souls.

Without warning, Astarion grabs the back of your neck, his fingers like iron. You try to pull away, but his grip tightens, dragging you forward as if you weigh nothing. You sigh in resignation. It’s pointless to fight him.

Looking at the ground, you allow him to lead you around by the neck. “Why do you even bother with this?” you ask quietly. “I’m not going to run.”

“It would not go well for you if you did.” Astarion sneers. “I’d rather not take any chances with my little pawn.”

You trudge through the dark, each step heavier than the last. You’re exhausted, and the pain in your feet is becoming unbearable. You can feel the skin hanging loosely, blood trickling down with every step.

“We should leave, Astarion. We can’t even see where we are going. It will take us longer to get through this than to just go around it.”

Astarion chuckles, but there’s no warmth in it. “Scared, pet?”

“Yes,” you admit, the word coming out as a shaky whisper.

The pompous arrogance of Astarion’s expression is made of slips momentarily, and you swear his eyes flicker. He grabs his head, shaking it furiously from side to side. When his eyes come back up, the flickering has ceased, and your heart feels like it drops from whatever decaying stem it hangs from and into your stomach.

“Fine. We’ll go around.” Astarion finally says, but his words are slowed, almost slurred, like he’s trying not to say them. “But don’t think I’m doing it for you.”

The two of you attempt to retrace your steps, but the landscape seems to have shifted. The trees, the bones, the shadows—they all look the same.

“Can you follow the trail of my blood?” You ask him.

Astarion scents the air, his brows furrowed. “There isn’t a trace of it anywhere.”

You walk around aimlessly for some time before Astarion stops for a moment in another attempt to get his bearings. You lean up against one of the calcified trees, trying to get some weight off your feet, and a twisted face juts out of the bark. It’s mouth wide open in a perpetual scream, and you jolt away from the tree and stifle a scream of your own.

Astarion is beside you in an instant, his dagger gleaming. “What is it?”

You point, your voice shaking. “There are… people stuck in the trees.”

You grab his wrist and find your way back to the white-barked tree, bringing the flame to it.

Astarion swallows. “Well, that’s not unsettling at all.”

Instead of your neck, Astarion grabs your hand, trying to pull you as quickly as possible through the bends and twists that often end up in completely dead ends. The pace is brutal, and the pain in your feet makes you bite your lip to keep from crying out.

You do not know what this version of him will do if you tell him you cannot walk any longer. Will he leave you in his place? Will he laugh and simply compel you to do it until your feet are chewed to the point that only bone remains? He may also just revel in your pain and ignore your pleas. It seems likely given his mood today.

You want out of here; this place feels wrong, and every instinct you have tells you to run as far from here as possible. When you run up to another dead end, it suddenly dawns on you.

“It’s a maze,” you caution with a shudder.

“Shit.” Astarion sighs, wracking his fingers through his dirty hair. His eyes drop to your feet, and he grimaces, cocking his head. “We’ll rest here,” he declares, his voice tinged with annoyance.

“Here?” You glance around uneasily. At the very least, you are backed up to a dead end, but there’s no telling what horrors are roaming this place.

“If you have a better idea,” he snaps, “I’m all pointy ears.”

The only better idea you have is that you could use Hellfire to burn this place to the ground, but the warning Asmodeus cautioned with still sits heavily on your consciousness. That, and you would rather Astarion not know about that particular power you possess.

“No,” you say, defeated, sitting down on the still remarkably hard ground. “I don’t have a better idea.”

“I thought not.”

Astarion sits while you keep several orbs of fire that form a ring around you. Another one of those tense silences seems to thicken the air between you. You’re tired, but you don’t think rest will come in a place such as this where the wind echos with pained voices and the shadows appear to twist and undulate as if something is moving through it, just out of sight. Beyond that, you can feel there is magic at work here — old magic — which is only used by a handful of creatures, and none of them are good.

Reluctantly, you grab your ankle to get a look at the bottom of your foot, only to realize it’s been flayed by the land. Your skin hangs in gruesome flaps, and you’re pretty sure you can see the bones. You sigh, picking out shards of obsidian and slivers of crystal and quartz.

You don’t need to look up to know that Astarion is once again watching you with a strange intensity. When you bring your eyes up to look at him, you realize that he’s not exactly staring at you but also through you, leagues away from here. It’s not a look you’ve seen on the Ascendant much before, and it concerns you. Is he listening to the call of Cania? Is the song still howling in his skull, icing over his soul, and infecting his thoughts?

Trying to fit the pieces of your skin together like a grisly jigsaw puzzle is beyond horrific, but you eventually get it as good as it’s going to get, and you press your palm up against the skin and let fire burst forth to cauterize it. You whimper under the pain of it, but bite your tongue to keep it as small and muffled as possible.

“You need blood,” Astarion muses while pointing at your feet, “to heal.”

“Are you offering?”

Astarion chuckles. “The answer will be no until the end of time.”

“Ah, so just making another genius observation then,” you retort. “Where am I going to find blood around here?”

“That’s very much a you problem.” Astarion counters with a smirk. “Take the healing potion.”

You’ve considered it, but it’s the only one you have, and you’re not keen on wasting it. So far, you’ve been lucky not to run into any of the denizens that inhabit this plane. You’re very sure that luck will run out sooner or later.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “I quite enjoy watching you suffer. Now, get some rest. I’ll take first watch.”

For once, you do not want to argue with him, and you once again fold Shadowheart’s pack and lay your head on it. It’s hard to find enough peace to rest. You toss and turn for what feels like hours before Astarion groans.

“Will you stop flopping around like a dying fish?”

“I’m trying.” You sigh and gesture to your surroundings. “It’s a little difficult to get comfortable. Maybe you should rest, and I’ll take first watch.”

“Fine by me.” Astarion says, balling his coat up and putting it under his head.

His heartbeat slows and his breathing becomes shallow while he seems to easily slip into his trance despite the disturbing scene around him. Although you wonder if two centuries of being under Cazador’s yolk was worse than some unnatural darkness.

Despite the bawling wind, there is a surreal silence that is as bottomless as the shadows. Your knees come to your chest, and you wrap your arms around yourself while a shiver runs down your spine. It feels like the faces in the trees are watching you through their calcified eyes.

You almost reach out to Astarion to wake him, if only for company, but find yourself enraptured in watching him rest deeply in his trance. The vulnerability of it on this version of him appears almost alien, and for some reason, it seems improper to watch him that way you are.

His eyes move under his closed lids, his brows twitch randomly, and soft sighs sidle from his slightly parted lips. What does this version of him meditate on during his repose? Does he dream of blotting the sun from the sky for his children? Does he hear the whispers of Cania and all the lowly creatures begging to serve?

Like you, because that’s what he sees when he looks at you, isn’t it? Just another lowly creature who awaits his commands with bated breath. Is he wrong though? Even when he isn’t using his compulsion, you still follow him around like a good pup. It doesn’t matter what he’s done to you in the past or the threat he possesses now; you still continue to follow on his heels.

Time slips away from you in the maze, consumed by the crushing darkness and the twisted, calcified trees that seem to shift behind you when you’re not looking. As lost in your thoughts as you are, you don’t realize that Astarion is staring at you until you catch the sharp, predatory eyes that are so listless they almost appear black, glaring at you with unsettling intensity.

“That was quick.”

“I do not require much in the way of sleep any longer,” he says blatantly. “Would you like to get some rest or can you walk?”

You flex your foot experimentally, wincing as you rise to your feet. The ground, even here in this hellish maze, still feels like knives underfoot, but at least you can walk again—albeit clumsily and slowly.

Astarion watches you with a curious mix of contempt and something that almost resembles concern. Almost.

“Don’t overdo it, little spawn,” he mutters. “I won’t carry you if you collapse.”

You shoot him a glare, unwilling to show just how close you are to faltering. The ground beneath you feels like it's slipping away with every step, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you weak.

“I don’t need your help,” you snap, the words coming out sharper than intended. “Let’s just try to get out of here.”

As the maze tightens its grip, the world twists in unnatural ways. You fight to keep pace, the domineering pall wrapping around you like a second skin, while the gnarled trees loom overhead, their branches curling toward you as if eager to pull you in. Every misstep feels heavier, like the earth itself is conspiring to drag you down, but Astarion presses on without a flicker of concern for your struggle. You stumble, and for a split second, his eyes flash back to you—less in worry, more in cold amusement.

Your legs ache and the whispers in the air grow louder, more insistent. They slither through the trees like venomous words, some in voices you almost recognize, others purely monstrous.

Astarion, ever vigilant, leads with the confidence of someone who pretends to know where they’re going. Yet the truth is clear: you’re both lost. But he’ll never admit it. Not to you.

“Stay close,” he commands sharply, his tone leaving no room for defiance. He halts suddenly, his form taut, listening to something you can’t hear.

“What is it?” You whisper.

He throws you a withering glance. “Quiet.” His hand rises in a gesture that isn’t so much protective as it is condescending, as if you’re some child who needs constant supervision. “Something’s coming.”

The flickering orbs of fire you summoned seem to ebb, flickering as if they wish to go out no matter how much power you use, as though whatever approaches has the ability to snuff out even the smallest light. You strain to listen, but the silence of the maze is thick, like it clogs your ears. Then, from deep within the shadows, a whisper reaches you—soft, insidious, and eerily familiar.

“Turn back…”

You freeze. The voice… It sounds like someone you know, though the tone is distorted, twisted by the magic of this place.“

“Turn back…” The whisper repeats, this time louder, clearer. And now, unmistakably, it is your voice.

You glance at Astarion, who remains rigid and alert, though you can tell by his expression that he has heard it too. But he does not acknowledge the voice. Instead, his eyes narrow, and his lips curl into a snarl.

“Do not heed it,” he commands, stepping closer to you. “It’s this place—an illusion meant to draw you in, to confuse you.”

But even as he speaks, the whisper persists. “Turn back… before it’s too late...”

The words slither around you like serpents, and when you look ahead, you see a shadowy figure emerge from between the twisted trees. It’s you—or some twisted version of you. Astarion’s gaze hardens, but there’s no sympathy in it. He steps forward, his fingers curling around your arm, yanking you harshly toward him.

“Do not let it fool you,” he snarls, his grip firm, too firm. “It’s just another trick. This place preys on weakness.”

You try to shake free, but his hold tightens. The figure between the trees steps closer, her hollow eyes locked on yours, pale skin almost glowing in the gloom, clothes tattered and burnt.

“Don’t look at it,” he hisses. “It’s not real.”

“I know,” you say, your voice wavering despite your efforts to stay calm. But the apparition doesn’t disappear. Instead, it steps closer, its movements slow and deliberate, as though it’s stalking you.

“He’s lying to you,” the figure whispers. “He always has.”

You feel a chill run down your spine. The words are not unexpected—Astarion’s lies have always been part of your story—but hearing them from this twisted version of yourself is somehow far more unsettling.

Astarion’s eyes flicker, but his expression remains stony. “Ignore it. You’re stronger than this.”

But the figure steps closer still, her gaze unrelenting. “He’ll betray you. Just like before.”

A knot tightens in your chest. The figure’s words sting because they echo thoughts you’ve tried to bury. You’ve known all along what Astarion is capable of, yet here you are, following him deeper.

He watches you closely now, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not seriously considering this drivel, are you?” His tone is razor-sharp, almost mocking, as if daring you to believe the apparition over him.

The figure shifts, flickering like a candle about to go out, then speaks again, but this time in his voice: “I never cared.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, the maze itself seems to hold its breath too. Astarion’s eyes narrow to slits, and he steps in front of you, blocking the figure from your sight.

“I’ve had enough of this,” he growls, dagger in hand, as he slashes at the illusion. But the figure only fades into mist, reforming just a few steps away, untouched and unbothered by his fury.

Astarion’s frustration is palpable, but before he can attack again, the figure speaks once more—again in his voice: “I never loved you.”

You wince, the words striking deeper than any blade could. It’s not just the sound of his voice, but the way the words reverberate in your chest, reminding you of every moment you doubted.

He turns back to you, his expression a mask of cold disdain. “This is pointless. If you’re going to fall apart every time this place plays with your mind, perhaps I should leave you here.”

The maze may twist reality, but you won’t give it the satisfaction of breaking you. Not now. Not here.

But as you step forward, the apparition lingers just out of sight, whispering truths you’d rather not face, all the while Astarion’s impatience grows sharper, like a knife pressed against your throat, daring you to falter.

Straightening your shoulders, you push past him. “Let’s keep moving,” you say, voice firm despite the tremor beneath it. “We’re getting out of here.”

Astarion watches you for a long moment, and for the first time, there’s something almost resembling respect in his eyes, but it vanishes as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual mask of ice.

The path ahead narrows as the shadows seem to close in tighter, wrapping themselves around the air like suffocating tendrils. Every step is a struggle, your legs heavy, your mind foggy with doubt. But still, you press on, unwilling to let the maze swallow you whole. Astarion, ever graceful and composed, moves beside you, though you can feel his growing impatience.

“This place reeks of desperation,” he mutters, his voice barely more than a hiss. “Everything here is clinging to life, yet everything is dead. It’s enough to drive even the most sane souls to madness.”

“It’s a good thing neither of us are sane then,” you say idly.

There is a strange pull in the air that you cannot quite place. It feels wrong somehow, abhorrent, like its presence corrupts anything that dares near. It calls to you like a harpy’s song, though whether it promotes salvation or doom, you cannot say.

Probably doom.

“Something is up ahead,” you whisper as low as possible, grabbing Astarion’s shirt to pull his ear closer to your mouth. “Something powerful.”

“I can feel it too,” he murmurs with a foreboding, flicking his dagger until it rests in his palm comfortably.

As you round a bend in the path, the path shifts and becomes laden with the smell of old blood and decay. You retch, pulling off the side of the path, with your body wracked with heaves. There is nothing in your stomach but bile to vomit. “Stop breathing, idiot.” Astarion grunts.

With the burnout settling into every crack in your being, there is a brief moment where you want to get on your knees and beg him for mercy. You wonder, if you get on your knees and beg him to pretend, if only for a little bit, that he is your husband, would he?

The answer only sends you further into despair. He would laugh and not hesitate to remind you of how fucking pathetic you are.

You say nothing back, not trusting your mouth not to plead with him for just a moment of peace.

A couple of steps, and the trees part just enough to reveal a clearing bathed in sickly green light, and in the center, hunched over a cauldron, is a figure. Her form is grotesque—long, spindly limbs draped in tattered robes, her skin a mottled shade of green, stretched tight over her bones. Two milky, blind eyes jerk toward you at the sound of your footsteps and seem to see straight through you. Her mouth, lined with broken, yellowed teeth, curls into a wicked smile.

A night hag.

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things.

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

Well, this is going positively swimmingly.

[void019]

I'm done with camp camp I'm gonna go drown myself in a river

[latenightdaydreams]

Jason/Masked Killer!Konig who’s been watching camp counselor reader tend to the kids. She’s so motherly and perfect, and all he wants is her with her stomach swelled up. So he takes what he wants (reader dont mind cause she a freak). Anyways, He’s seen the way her fingers reach deep and deep but never hit that spot when she’s in her private bunk.

JasonAU!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, stalking, mommy issues, breast milk, p in v, breeding kink, voyeurism

1.1k word count

🏕️

.

.

There is something about you that is different from all of the other camp counselors he’s come in contact with over the years. You have a certain light that emanates from your eyes and the way you smile. The children all flock to you and feel secure when you’re near, like a natural mother figure. It’s something König himself has always craved.

Typically, the camp counselors are hyper sexual and negligent; drinking and smoking while having unprotected sex. Yet here you are in your bunk, a little after midnight watching a video on your phone. You have the blankets kicked off because it is so hot. Your legs are spread open, revealing you aren’t wearing any underwear underneath your nightgown.

You have dainty little fingers that you do desperately slip in and out, but you never cum. König watches with his cock out in his hands, vigorously, stroking his cock as he watches you. It’s sad to watch how… unfulfilled you look when he knows he can give you everything you need.

König is up early the next morning, waiting on you. You are always the first one up and the only one cooking breakfast. The thought of you in a home with him, cooking for him and your large family drives him wild. He closes his eyes and listens to your soft little hums, letting his mind run wild with the thought.

He envisions you in a tight house dress with a big belly and milk stains from your leaking breasts. You serve him his breakfast and sit on his lap, cutting up his food for him and feeding him. When he’s thirsty he pulls down the front of your dress, suckling in your breast and drinking from you.

The sound of other voices snaps him from his thoughts. Other counselors have woken up so he backs off, keeping a close eye on you throughout the day. Tonight is the night; he can’t wait any longer for you.

 As the sun sets over the lake you walk into the kitchen to gather items for smores. You hum the same tune as earlier as the sound of children and counselors enjoying themselves in the water is in the background. König slowly stalks behind you with steady steps to not cause the old wooden floors to creak.

You stop humming and the small break causes you to hear a light thump of someone’s footstep. Assuming that it is just one of the other workers, you ignore the footsteps and continue to hum. As you lean forward to reach the box of graham crackers on the top shelf, an arm wraps around your waist. The box goes flying into the air as you react with shock. A scream leaves your lips but is quickly muffled by his large hand covering your mouth.

König effortlessly lifts you into the air and walks you across the way to your cabin. His shoulder slams the door open. He then tosses you onto your bed, watching as you scramble and turn to look at him. A mask covering his face, only his piercing blue eyes visible. His body is muscular, towering over your smaller frame.

“Please don’t kill me.” Your voice trembles with fear.

“You’re mine.” König growls.

König turns to shut the door before marching over to you on the bed, grabbing you by your hair and yanking you down to the bed. His eyes meet yours, there is a fearful look, but also something else. He tilts his head, studying you for a moment. With his free hand he lifts up your shirt and looks down at your soft looking flesh.

His eyes dart back up to yours as he slowly releases your hair, making sure you wouldn’t try to run. You don’t move, instead you watch him closely as he pulls up more of your shirt to expose your bra. He wastes no time in pulling down your bra to expose yourself to him.

There is a sparkle in his eyes as he’s finally seeing your breasts. He lifts his mask slightly to expose his badly scarred lips. His tongue comes out and lightly flicks back and forth over your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

It’s just like in his imagination, except there is no sweet milk filling his mouth- yet. His cock twitches in his pants and leaks precum from the excitement of having you like this. He looks up at you to see you watching him while he enjoys himself, biting your lower lip as you hold back your small moans.

Your eyes follow him as he sits up, he grabs the waistband of your pants and pulls them down. The soft fabric of your cotton panties came into view, driving him insane. Between your legs is a small wet spot forming on the light-colored fabric. Instantly his eyes dart up to yours; you’re actually enjoying this.

König wastes no time in pulling them off, exposing the sweet little pussy that he’s been watching you rub for the last two weeks. His fingers finally get to graze across the soft texture of your public hair before letting his fingers caress your wet folds. A low groan leaves him as he feels how wet he made you. All of this for him.

“I’m going to fuck until you’re full with my seed.” He whispers to you as he pulls down his pants to let his cock spring free.

You say nothing, simply nod your head in submission. Internally, you’re dying to be a mother… to be fucked. His hand wraps around one leg, allowing himself more room between them. He rubs his cock up and down between your folds to cover himself if your sweet creamy cunt; pressing against your clit with each swipe making your legs tremble.

With a small push forward, the tip of his cock slips into your tiny little cunt. Your eyes widen as he slowly leans his weight on to you, sinking himself deeper. A loud pathetic moan comes from König. His hips pull back and he slams himself into your again with more force. He watches as your face contorts with a mixture of heavenly bliss and immense pain.

“Oh fuck—” You cry out.

One of his hands snakes around your neck and squeezes lightly as he positions himself to get deeper, attempting to shove every single inch of himself inside of you; even if you struggle. With slow and hard thrust, he repeats that you’re his. It’s been so long since his cock has felt the delicious feeling of a tight wet gummy pussy swallowing him.

Outside, everyone continues to enjoy the warm day. None of the adults seem to realize that you’re even gone so no one is looking for you. If they were to, they would only find you sweating with König’s warm sticky cum dripping from your pussy.

[angelcake10023]

Curious MK 💛 and the Man In The Red Scarf 🧣

This au is everything to me… be ready for me to not shut up about it.

If you want a little explanation on the au look under the cut

The au pretty much follows the beats of the movie with some twists to fit the world of LMK a bit better

Tang works at his College’s museum, doing tours on a lot of historical exhibits which heavily align with his special interests (lots of JTTW like stuff)

Pigsy is the local school teacher that takes his class to the museum every week- to learn obviously. Not cause he has a big crush on this pathetic museum nerd.

Anyway the museum is loosing interest and funding you know the gist, Tang somehow agrees to go on an expedition to flower fruit mountain to maybe find something worth putting on display. Probably something related to Sun Wukong

Tang is out of his element, but also this is his hyperfixation and he can tooootally find something of note surely. However what he doesn’t know is that a few certain spider henchmen in disguise have made their way onto his expedition crew and are hoping to find something powerful to bring back to their queen.

Once they get there they do a lot of fruitless searching, set up camp for the day, and an exhausted Tang is quickly ambushed by a newly awakened baby Monkey MK. He’s very curious about the bright color of Tang’s scarf and steals it when Tang takes it off to eat.

Tang has never seen or heard of this type of monkey on the mountain before, thinking he resembles Sun Wukong but thinking it ridiculous to think more of it. They play for a bit, Tang playfully wagering for his scarf back.

Anyway the expedition continues and they’re still unable to find anything and have to leave empty handed, (except for two pieces of a little monkey shaped rock.)

Mk ends up with Tang’s scarf as he’s leaving, deciding to secretly follow them back. Wholesome shenanigans ensue just like in the movie. Tang struggles being a dad to this monkey who’s attached himself to him, while also learning he might not really be normal monkey. Add in some Monkey power shenanigans hehe. Also some spider henchmen repeatedly trying and failing to capture Mk (comedically managing to also go unnoticed every time)

Of course in the climax, Tang is pretty worn down. He’s homeless, jobless, and a disappointment. He doesn’t think he can handle taking care of MK, and that’s when Sun Wukong shows up. He’s been keeping an eye on them and knows MK has mystic powers that are probably too much for a human to handle- so he’s willing to take him off Tang’s hands.

Tang reluctantly agrees, much to MK’s confusion and sadness. Trying to reach and grab onto him repeatedly as Tang holds back tears and begs Wukong to take him. Wukong does and Mk, who’s been struggling with any speech up to this point finally manages a soft and scratchy “no” just as Wukong’s cloud zips away with them both.

Tang immediately regrets it, his regret fueled after he talks with Pigsy. He made a mistake and he needs his kid back.

Unfortunately, The Spider Queen and co managed to ambush Wukong similar to the show and capture baby MK. Cue Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy teaming up to rescue the monkeys

Rescue ensues, Tang and Mk reunite wholesomely, Wukong is impressed by Tangs determination to save the kid despite his mortality. Wukong gives him some cool treasure junk that they can take back to the museum

The day is saved, Tang and MK are a family, and Tang finally got Pigsy’s flirting through his dense head lmaooooo

Dad Tang and Baby MK are so special to me… thank you for reading haha. Itll probably be fleshed out more in the future as well

[call-memissbrightside]

Continuation of this

Katsuki and your son didn’t return from their camping trip until late Sunday night, but you were waiting.

Thankfully Katsuma fell asleep on the road back, and he made no fuss tucking him away in his bed. Katsuki waited to jump on you when the door to Katsuma’s room clicked shut, then did he take care of you.

It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone, and it’s been even longer since you’ve slept with Katsuki. Yet, there was no hesitation or embarrassment when you willinging took off your garments of clothing as you blindly led your ex to your bedroom. Katuski wanted to take in the little details of you, things that he might’ve missed or things that changed since the last time he’s been with you… but laying you out in the bed without any barriers of clothing to hide behind, with the moonlight spilling in just perfectly to cascade every dip and curve of your body, the young man decide to indulge just for once. If I’m lucky, this will happen again, he thought.

As highschool lovers that you once were meant you’d make love, you both were virgins when you got together but now you were older, wiser, and less awkward when touching one another. There was no hesitation, no verbal checks and balances like you’d give when you were sixteen. Now, his eyes asked the questions and your little smile answered each and every one of them. That night, five years after leaving Katsuki to raise your son without him, Katsuki and you fucked like you needed to make up for lost time.

—

You gained a sixth sense through motherhood, and you were startled awake. Blinking the sleepiness out of your eyes, you take in the sight of Katsuma, with rumpled blonde hair standing by the foot of your bed. Thankfully, you were covered with your blanket, and he didn’t seem to notice nor care that you were in bed with Katsuki..

“Mommy, I’s sick,” Katsuma whispered, a little hand rubbing at his eye.

You felt Katsuki laying behind you, with an arm secured tightly around your hips as his steady breathing tickled the nape of your neck.

“What’s wrong baby?” You’re mindful of keeping your naked body covered with the blanket as you sit up, trying to not startle Katsuki but he instantly wakes up from your movement.

“What’s wrong buddy?” Katsuki’s voice is heavily laced with sleep, but he takes a deep breath, peeking over your shoulder to look at his son.

“I’m hot.” Katsuma was sweating, perspiration wetting the crown of his head and the hair that grew there. His cheeks were red like apples, and his little eyes held feelings of pain.

The back of your hand automatically touches his forehead, eyebrows furrowed at the intense heat you feel.

“I think you have a fever baby,” You comment, worryness replacing whatever satifaction you felt just moments before. “Go lay back down and I’ll get the thermometer.”

Katsuma wordlessly obeys your command, and you don’t hesitate to spring up and get dressed. Katsuki watches you, you feel his eyes on your back as you slip on some clothes.

“What should I do?” Katsuki catched his shirt you threw at him with ease, putting it on and beginning to dress too. You don’t know how to answer, mind going on overdrive on how to proceed with having a sick child. Katsuma was usually a healthy kid with a minor cold every two years, but to wake up with an intense fever? What could it be? How serious was this? –

“Y/N?” Katsuki felt useless in this situation, he’s never dealt with a sick kid nor did he know what to do for Katsuma in that moment. He needed you to guide him, lead him, shit, tell him what to do because he was clueless. The young man could tell you were worried, it’s the way your face had a stony expression on it that painted a clear picture: something wasn’t right.

“There’s some medicine in the cabinet above the microwave, could you get it?” You asked him, looking through your drawers for the thermometer. Katsuki, thankful for some direction, swiftly went to retrieve the medicine. In the silence of the kitchen, did the seriousness of his actions catched up with Katsuki.

We had sex, Katsuki recounted, we had sex so now what? Are we together? No – he shook his head, finding a child’s ibuprofen – Would she even want to get back together? What about Katsuma?

Heading to the five-year-olds room, Katsuki put aside any lingering questions in his mind. Just like you decided, all those questions and decisions would have to wait – Katsuma needed him.

[jacaeryswifee]

i think i'm in love with you

ꕥ luke castellan x afab!reader

warnings: descriptions of wounds + blood, allusions to sex but no actual smut, shitty writing (i havent wrote a fanfic in multiple years), not proofread cuz im way too lazy, (y/n) isn't used at all in this idk i almost like reading fanfic better without it

summary: you wake up in the middle of the night to strange noises. you find luke outside, with a deep wound in his side. you take him to the lake to take care of him. unfortunately for you, luke's in a teasing mood.

word count: 2.7k

You awoke suddenly to strange noises. Soft groans fell through the walls of your cabin. At first, you assumed it to be something you should be careful not to walk in on. But, as your head cleared up more as you fully woke up, it sounded more like someone who was in pain. 

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you slowly pulled the covers off of your body and stepped into a pair of soft slippers. You carefully weaved through the various beds in the dark towards the door. The groans continued, rendering you more concerned and nervous. You quietly eased the door open, wincing at every squeak it made. You peeked your head outside, searching for the source of the noise.

Through squinted eyes, your attention eventually landed on a certain Hermes boy laid down in the grass. Luke. You quickly shut the door, completely forgetting about keeping quiet, and tip-toe ran across the grass towards the boy. You and Luke had been friends for quite a while. You arrived at camp a month or so after him, and he was the most welcoming one there. While you remained unclaimed in the Hermes cabin for a few months, it didn’t really hurt as much while you were with Luke. He was the perfect distraction and a great friend, although you had begun to wish for something more.

“Luke!” You whisper yelled, causing him to practically jump a foot off the ground. Looking towards the startling voice, he realized it was you. He quickly sat up, his hand placed on his chest as he tried his best to calm his suddenly erratic breathing.

“Oh, thank gods, it’s just you,” he laughed breathlessly, suddenly wincing and placing his hand on his side. His flushed face turned down toward his wound before he threw his head back again, hissing in pain.

“What happened?!” You exclaimed in a panic, running to close the last piece of distance between you both. You quickly fell to your knees next to him, trying to get a good look at whatever was hidden underneath his hand. He attempted to laugh it off but immediately winced and groaned. His hand remained on his side, hiding whatever had happened. “Luke I’ve gotta see..” you tried.

“I’m fine,” he responded, dismissively. He gave you a tightlipped smile in an attempt to reassure you. It did quite the opposite. You reached your hand to pull his away from his side.

“You’re not fine Luke-” His free hand grasped your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving yours any closer to his wound. You stayed silent and unstill, unsure of the situation. In your moment of stillness, your eyes raked over his hand wrapped tightly around yours. The veins in his hand and forearm looked so perfect, especially under the soft moonlight. You wondered what his hand would look like wrapped around your-

“Hey!” Luke snapped his fingers in front of your face, trying to regain your attention.

“Huh?” You responded, clueless and still in a daze, your eyes stuck on his hand around yours. You could have sworn you saw a sly smirk adorn his face from the corner of your eye but you brushed it off. You were tired, you were probably just seeing things. You snapped out of your trance, looking back at his face, confused about everything. “Luke, you’ve gotta let me help you-”

“Princess, I-”

“I have no idea what you did or what happened to you, but I’m worried and you’re being so confusing right now..” You trailed off, avoiding his eyes for a moment. Princess. You hated (loved) when he used that nickname for you. It gave you hope that he could ever feel the same way about you. You heard Luke sigh.

“Okay, I just got in a bit of a fight with an Ares kid.. he pulled a knife on me, got me in the side.. I was clumsy, made a mistake,” he removed his hand from your wrist, prompting you to reconnect your eye contact. “I’m fine and I’ll be more careful next time.” He smiled, trying to dismiss your worries yet again.

“Can you show me?” You asked tentatively. He looked at you and nodded. You noticed that same smirk from earlier, only softer and more hidden. Maybe you hadn’t been imagining things. You watched his hand reach down to the hem of his shirt. Oh shit. You had not thought about that. You internally facepalmed. You were so fucked. His fingers wrapped around the bottom seam of his shirt as he pulled it up about halfway. Your eyes immediately darted to his wound. A seemingly deep gash ran from about the bottom of his ribs to the top of his pelvis. Blood trickled along his already blood covered skin. Oh it looked bad. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit. 

As you examined the bloody gash, your eyes had other ideas. Your gaze slowly moved on to take in his toned abdomen. He had nice abs, prominent, but not so much like those crazy American bodybuilders. They gave you the creeps. His were just the perfect shape, size, and.. everything about him was perfect. While his side was doused in his own blood, the rest of his abdomen was covered in scattered beads of sweat. He looked good. Like really good. Luke’s sharp intake of breath broke you out of your trance. You quickly cleared your throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed you had been examining the rest of his body instead of his injury. 

“I’d ask if you like what you see but.. I’m in a bit of a predicament currently.” Luke chuckled, referring to the bloody gash. Your face flushed red. Shit, he noticed. You fumbled over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. He watched you, amused, but still very evidently in pain. You abruptly stood up, offering Luke your hand.

“You got a kit or something I can use?” You asked as you carefully pulled him to his feet. His arm landed to rest over your shoulders. You felt the breath leave your body. He was so close. His body heat radiated heavily onto your already heated body. You hoped he couldn’t feel how hot you are, or how loud and hard your heart was beating. His quiet groan brought you back to your senses.

“Yeah I’ve got a kit hidden in the trees near the beach.” He finally answered. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Why.. there?” You asked, genuinely confused. Luke looked down at you as if you should have already known.

“For times like these.” He replied, as if it were obvious. You just shrugged and let him slowly lead you to the beach. The trek through the grass proved a lot more difficult than you had expected. Random bumps and holes in the dirt caused you both to almost fall multiple times.

“Here,” Luke spoke and pointed a few feet in front of you. You nodded and slowly lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the tree. Your hands rummaged and dug through the dirt in search of Luke’s medical kit. Your fingernail eventually scratched along a hard, plastic surface. You dug your hands further into the dirt to pull the case out of the ground.

“I got it!” You sighed in relief. Your hands were becoming increasingly tired from all of the digging. You sat next to Luke, opening the latches of the small box. He smiled at you, watching your every move, completely mesmerized by you. You grabbed the small bottle of rubbing alcohol and popped it open. You opened your mouth to speak, looking up at Luke, only to find him already looking back at you. You quickly looked away, your face flushing a deep crimson. You took a deep breath before allowing yourself to actually speak.

“I’m gonna need you to hold your shirt up above the cut, if you’re comfortable.” You looked back up at Luke, nervously waiting for his response. You shouldn’t have been that nervous, you were just tending to his wound, nothing else. But still, the idea of asking him to lift up his shirt and reveal his really nice abdomen embarrassed you a lot.

“Yeah of course.” He replied in a suddenly husky, low voice. It caught you off guard, causing even more heat to rush to your cheeks.. and to the spot between your legs. He grasped the hem of his orange shirt and pulled it up, revealing the wound again.

“Okay.. this is gonna hurt, but I’ve gotta clean it out somehow.” You warned, slowly starting to pour the rubbing alcohol over the cut. Luke nodded in acknowledgement, hissing immediately as the strong liquid hit his skin. You hadn’t really treated all too many wounds in your lifetime, let alone a cut as deep and bloody as this one. You hoped you were doing it right and you weren’t making it worse. Luke’s harsh groans and hisses weren’t aiding your stressed mind. Throughout the few minutes you spent drenching his side in rubbing alcohol, you noticed him drop his shirt a few times, muttering apologies, saying his hands were having trouble keeping it up. You brushed it off each and every time it happened. 

Once you finally deemed it enough rubbing alcohol, you moved away from his abdomen, grabbing the cap of the bottle. Your shaky hands tried closing the bottle but to no avail. You were stressed and embarrassed, and your entire body was shaking way too much. Luke’s warm hands grasped yours.

“Hey,” He whispered, grabbing your attention. You looked up at him. “I’ve got it.” He smiled at you, and carefully took the bottle from your palms to close it himself. You whispered your thanks under your breath, so quiet, you almost couldn’t hear it yourself. You reached back into the medical kit to pull out a cloth and an antiseptic wipe. You placed your hand on Luke’s cheek. Red slowly started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks, unbeknownst to you.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna wet the cloth.” You told him, smiling and standing up. 

“You’re too good to me.” Luke said, in that low voice, again. You turned quickly to hide your blush, making your way to the shore, as quick as you could. You dipped the cloth in the cold water and rung it out. You jogged back to Luke at the tree, dropping back onto your knees next to him. You lightly dabbed the cloth around his cut, trying to pick up and clean up the blood all over him. You did your best to avoid pressing into the actual cut, but failed a few times. Luke tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see how much he was hurting. You felt awful. 

Occasionally, Luke would let the hem of his shirt slip out of his hands, obscuring your cleaning abilities. He would apologize profusely, telling you he had no idea why it kept happening. When you would shrug and go back to cleaning the blood, a smug smile would pull at his lips. You were so clueless.

You continued to clean the excess blood off of Luke’s body. His shirt would drop every couple minutes. He would apologize, and you would get back to work. This went on for a little over ten minutes.

You placed the cloth at your side, actually proud of what you had got done so far. You had managed to clean up the majority of the blood from his cut, and it was looking a lot better now. All that was left for now was to wrap it up and then send him for Ambrosia to finish the healing process. 

As you grabbed the roll of bandage from the box, you watched Luke drop his shirt yet again. He sighed dramatically and threw his hands up in defeat.

“I just can’t keep my shirt up. Guess I’m just gonna have to take the whole thing off.” He sighed and grabbed the hem, pulling it up and over his head. You were practically drooling as you watched. The way his muscles flexed when he ripped his shirt off.. it was so.. hot. You could now see his entire toned abdomen, and his chest. Your face was surely beet red at this point. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

You had no idea in your trance, but Luke was watching the way you looked at him, a smug smile adorning his perfect face. He loved the way you reacted to his body. He thought you were the cutest thing. It was fun to see you all flustered like this. Eventually, by some miracle you were able to pull your eyes away from Luke’s body to focus on bandaging him up. You hastily unraveled the thin cloth, trying to ignore the burning feeling of Luke’s eyes on you, watching your every move. 

You leaned over his body, trying to reach to start the wrapping. It turned out to be really difficult, as you could barely reach. You sat back and sat there for a moment, trying to clear your head and figure out your next plan of action.

“I’m not sure how I’m gonna..” You admitted quietly, embarrassed. Luke looked up at you with a very clear and obvious smirk on his face. This worried you. You had no idea what he was planning, and you did not want to make a fool of yourself. 

To your immense surprise, Luke’s hands grabbed onto your hips and lifted you off the ground, making you squeal. He sat you down on his lap, in a straddle position. You were so close. Too close. The embarrassingly warm area between your legs sat right over his. You prayed and prayed he couldn’t feel it. You would never live it down.

“That’ll do it.” Luke smiled and pat your thigh encouragingly, causing you to let out a sharp squeak. You gulped and tried to focus on the bandage again. Your shaky hands brought the edge of the bandage to his back as you wrapped it around his torso, multiple times over. You wrapped it tight, but not too tight as to suffocate Luke.

Although, at that point it wouldn’t have mattered. Luke was completely focused on making you a flustered mess. The intense pain he was in was in the very back of his mind. He could barely feel it at this point. He was having way too much fun with you.

After the most painfully long two minutes of your life, you had finally finished wrapping Luke up. You let out a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling a weight drop off of your shoulders. You had never felt so stressed and embarrassed in your life. You hoped your work would hold up well and you had done it right.

Luke’s arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you in even closer. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Thanks for your help,” he whispered in his gravelly voice. He leaned in even closer. “Means a lot.” He mumbled, almost against your lips. Your heart rate was through the roof. He was so close. So close you could kiss him. You could feel his breath mingling with yours. The warmth between your legs only continued to grow now. Luke chuckled lowly, watching the thoughts flow through your mind.

Luke moved his lips ever closer to yours. Dropping to a deep whisper, he spoke again. “I think.. I’m in love with you..” His lips moved slowly to capture yours. Your eyes widened, before you closed them, easing into his kiss. 

Your lips moved in perfect unison, as if made for eachother. Your hands moved to grip his dark curls. You softly pulled, feeling him moan into your mouth. Luke pulled away, moving his lips to your neck. Nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. He was sure to leave many marks on your delicate skin.

“I-” You were cut off by your own moans as Luke’s hands moved to rest on your breasts while his kisses along your neck became harsher. He slowly pulled away from your neck, keeping his hands on your chest.

“What were you gonna say, baby?”

“I.. love you as well.” You replied, breathless. Luke smirked, crashing his lips into yours again.

[chaussetteblanche]

AHH i lived ur luke one do u think u can do another maybe like an enemies to lovers trope (sorry im a sucker for enemies to lovers)☺️

hi babe !! thanks for requesting ! don't apologise we're all on our knees and begging for enemies to lovers <3

I hate you

pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader summary : you and luke have been mortal enemies for months, will things change because of a quest? word count: 2.3k warnings : swear words, description of a wound

Luke had hated you since your first day at camp. To this day, you had no idea why. But after months of letting snark comments and aggressive capture the flags slide, you’d decided you had had enough. That had been the moment you'd officially become enemies. 

When he'd jeer at you, you'd bite back with even more venom. If you made him drop his sword at capture the flag, he’d come after you with his bare hands. When one hit, the other hit back harder. It was constant war. 

The rest of camp never understood this hatred you both harboured for one another. Singularly, you were both kind, generous and intelligent people. The kind of people you’d expect to get along fine and even become good friends. But no, it was always one thing after the next. 

So imagine your horror when a relatively new camper was chosen for a quest and found nothing better to do than pick you and your mortal enemy to accompany him. It was your worst nightmare come true. You froze when both your names resounded in the agora. 

You choked, coughed and held back from spluttering, refusing to embarrass yourself. You smoothed down your camp shirt and nodded. You did not look at Luke, even though you could feel his heated glower on your skin. He would probably find a way to blame you for this. Chiron looked between you and Luke with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. You could almost hear what he was thinking. Nonetheless, he abided. 

Walking back to your cabin to prepare your things, you could hear the word actively spreading behind you.  "Did you hear that-" "Yeah, he’s chosen Luke and-" "They’ll be lucky if they don’t kill each other." Rolling your eyes, you shut yourself in your cabin and leaned back on the closed door. You dug the heels of your hands into your eyes, groaning. This was going to be nightmare.

And it really was. By hour 12 of the quest, you’d managed to get yourself thrown out of a train, fought off two harpies and had lost Luke.  "Where the hell did he go?" you asked loudly as you and Alan, the young camper, walked in direction of your next task. "He couldn’t have just disappeared!" "I don’t know, maybe he’ll join us later on." Alan shrugged. You frowned.  "Do you know anything about this?" You slowly turned to to him and he took a step back, shaking his head. "No, no, I-" "I’d suggest you think twice before lying to me, Alan," you growled. Alan sighed. "Yes, he told me he wanted to see how badly you did on your own so he could report it to camp." "Right." Of course. Of course he would find a way to make the dangerous quest even harder than it needed to be. You inhaled deeply, trying to remind yourself not to take your anger out on this thirteen year-old child. Your blood boiling, you turned back around and continued to walk. If Luke wanted to stay behind, that was fine with you. Better that than have him be in your way. 

"Oi!" Called a voice about an hour later. Ugh, Luke. You ignored him, keeping a steady pace. He called your name again. You didn’t react until his hand came down on your shoulder.  Before he could say another word, you spun around and pushed him up against the nearest tree, your forearm pressing down on the column of his throat. "Who the fuck do you think you are," you snarled, close to his face, "to leave Alan and I alone? The quest comes before everything! It comes before your hatred for me and your stupid pettiness! So pull yourself together and stop fucking around! » You shoved yourself off him, glaring into his eyes. He looked at you darkly before grabbing your wrist and pulling you close to him. "Yell at me again, princess, and I’ll give you a real reason to scream," he warned in a low voice. You scoffed, ripping your wrist out of his grip.  "Shut up and start walking, Castellan."

The quest went smoothly -as smoothly as it could go considering the tension between Luke and you- after that. You found that the three of you made a pretty good team. Everything was going fine and you had been on your way back to camp when you crossed a griffin. You pushed Alan behind you immediately, taking out your sword at the same time Luke did. "Distract him, I'll go around the side!" Luke ordered, running off. Despite not wanting to follow his orders, you set your jaw and instructed Alan to hide. You twisted your ring, a gift from your mother which turned into a shield when twisted the right way, and waited for the shield to form before banging your sword against it.

"Over here, you stinking pile of feathers! Or should I say fur?" You yelled as you ran backwards, away from Alan. You continued banging your sword against your shield and watched as Luke charged forward from the griffin's unguarded side. The beast shrieked as it was struck and batted Luke away with its large wing. Luke flew to the side with an 'oomph' sound. Despite your despise for him, you felt surprisingly concerned.

You darted forward as the griffin raised one of its clawed feet, ready to strike down Luke, who was slowly getting to his feet. The loud clang of claws meeting the metal of your shield made him look up quickly. You were straining underneath the power of the monster, pushing back against your shield with all of your strength. "Fucking. Move." You managed to speak through clenched teeth. Luke finally snapped out of his daze and bolted to the side. You readied yourself before jumping to the side, out of the griffin's reach -or so you thought. He swapped at you with his other clawed foot and despite you trying to run out of the way, managed to cut a gash in your side. You cried out. You heard Luke and Alan scream your name, but they felt far away.

You spun around, livid, and cut off the beast's hand as it came down towards you once more. Luke took his chance and stabbed the monster in the chest. The three of you watched as the creature turned to dust. You fell to your knees. Luke was next to you in a second, breathing heavily. He laid you down in the grass, muttering to himself. "Show me," he ordered, lifting your shirt up to reveal your stomach. You squirmed both from the strange feeling of having his eyes on your revealed body and from the stinging pain of the cut. "Gods- how bad it is?" you asked. The sound of Alan vomiting was indication enough. Luke bit his bottom lip, brows furrowed. "It's fixable. You just need ambrosia and a healer." "Really?" You hated the way your voice sounded so weak. Luke nodded strongly. "Trust me." And for some reason, you found that you did. He stood up and sheathed his sword before gesturing for Alan to take your bag.

"Can you walk?" he asked, though it sounded like more of a formality than a real question. You lifted yourself up on your elbows and groaned in pain. You shook your head, hating the fact that you had to rely on him of all people for help. "Okay, then." Luke bent forward, going to pick you up. "Wait." He stopped immediately. His eyes snapped up to your face, which had gone frighteningly white. You were staring at the gash across your stomach. It went from the top of ribs to the side of your belly button. And it did not look good. The cut was jagged and blood poured out all over your clothes. Luke watched, helpless, as your fingers reached out to touch the cut. You hissed in pain before looking up into his eyes.

"I'm going to die." Your voice shook dangerously. He hated the way your eyes watered and the way you looked so scared. He'd never seen you look that way before and he wanted to wipe the sight from his memory. You did not have a face that was meant to look frightened. You had a face which was meant for pride and victory. "Look at me." He grabbed your chin and kneeled next to you. "You are not going to die." He pulled a spare T-shirt out of his bag, balled it up and pressed down on your wound with it. "I know, it hurts," he cooed as you whimpered with pain. "Hold it here."

Ignoring your groans of pain, he pulled you into his arms and stood up. Your vision was becoming blurry, but you did all you could to keep pressing down on your wound with his T-shirt. You heard him bark out orders to Alan in the distance. "Luke," you spoke softly as black dots danced in your vision. "No, no, no, don't close your eyes, princess. Keep looking at me." "I don't wanna die," you whispered before passing out. Luke clenched his jaw as he sped up the pace, ordering Alan to keep up with him. "Idiot. You're not gonna die. I won't let you."

You awoke to a soft yellow light surrounding you. Slowly opening your eyes, you looked around to find yourself in the camp infirmary. Luke was on a chair beside your bed. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Hey." "Hi," you croaked, trying to sit up. Wobbly, you managed to sit somewhat straight against the pillows. "How're you feeling?" Luke asked, looking over your face. He was relieved it to find it less white that it had been two days before. "Like shit, really." You let out a hoarse chuckle. He laughed shortly, looking down at his hands. You were surprised to find it was a really nice sound. That had been the first time you'd ever heard him laugh, and it felt really good to be the cause of it. "How long have I been out?" "Two days and a half." You were quiet for a moment as you thought back to the last things you remembered. "I guess I should thank you for saving my life, Castellan."

Luke let out something close to a scoff and leaned back in his chair. "You saved mine first. Thank you." "Well, yeah." You coughed. "I couldn't just let you die like-" "I don't hate you, you know," he interrupted you. You stopped talking. "Not really."

"What do you mean you don't hate me? Of course you do. You can't stand me. You think everything I do is stupid and bound to failure." "No, I- I don't hate you. I'm envious of you. Of what you have." "Of what I have? I have a fucking hole in my stomach right now, Caste-" "Of your mom. Mostly."

Your lips made an 'O' shape as you understood. Suddenly, everything made sense. That was why he'd disliked you from the start. You had the one thing he never would. Your mother was a minor goddess and did not have many children. This permitted her to be frequently in contact with you and therefore play the role of a present mother. Your father always kept in touch with you. You knew that with each of them you would always have someone to turn to. Unlike Luke.

"Mostly?" you asked, tilting your head to the side. "I'm envious of how whenever you walk into a room, it immediately lights up. Of how everyone likes you. Of how you always look good, even if you've just been torn to pieces by a griffin. Of how you always seem to see the good in people, except for me, I guess. Of how you get along with everyone except for me." Luke didn't meet your eye as he spoke. "Maybe if you hadn't been such an ass when we first met, we'd have gotten along fine. And I do see the good in you, I just like to ignore it for my own benefit." Luke's eyes shot up to yours.

"What do you mean 'your own benefit'?" "Well, if I didn't ignore the way you're so kind to the new kids, the way you're so protective of your friends and Annabeth, the way you stand up for what you think is right, the way your eyes look when they catch the light just right and the way your laugh seems to draw everybody in, then maybe... Maybe I wouldn't dislike you at all. Quite the contrary, actually." You could feel your heart hammering inside your chest as you spoke. The way Luke was staring into your soul was not helping either.

"Say something, Luke," you pleaded. His first name felt soft and foreign on your tongue. You had never said it before.

Luke did not answer. Wordlessly, he stood up and was by your side in two steps. He cupped your cheek, leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. Your heart raced and when he pulled away, you found yourself chasing his lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and smiled before kissing you properly. Eruptions exploded in your stomach as you kissed him back. You pulled him closer by the shirt as his warm lips pressed against yours. Finally, you couldn't help but think. All those feelings you'd ignored and pushed to the back of your mind finally broke free and you almost cried from relief.

His free hand found the back of your neck and you shivered as his fingers caressed the skin there. You leaned into his touch and cupped his jaw before slowly sliding a hand into his hair. He let out a soft moan but before you could get too into it, a cough resounded throughout the room.

"I'm glad to see that you and Luke have managed to work through your differences, Y/N." Chiron spoke, amusement dripping from his words, as he trudged into the room. "Now tell me about your quest."

[justporo]

Hear me out! Tav brought a statue of Astarion to the camp but Astarion does not recognize himself in it and does not understand why their leader spent 5000 gold on a random stone man. Meanwhile the party is betting on how long it will take Astarion to guess whose statue it is.

5000 Gold

"He's not... he's not gonna figure it out anytime soon, is he?"

"Sshhh!"

Shadowheart shushed Karlach with an angry frown and a single finger thrown to her lips.

The two of them - along with your other companions observed the scene unfolding on the other side of the camp. Right where a delivery had just been made - and quite an uncommon one.

A giant stone statue, depicting... Astarion - and almost fully nude at that.

You couldn't resist when the offer had been made to you at the carnival at the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. 5000 gold had felt like nothing for the punchline you had been about to make with having a statue be made of the one companion that couldn't remember what he himself looked like.

And Astarion, upon discovering Tav's most recent purchase, had started to throw a temper tantrum immediately, almost fainting when he had heard the paid sum out of your mouth.

The vampire had worked himself into an outright frenzy, screaming, hissing, gesticulating towards the statue, then back to you, then to the skies. Meanwhile all you could do anymore was biting your lip to stop yourself from bursting into the biggest laughing fit of your life.

The rest of the group kept observing from a safe distance.

"Istik", Lae'zel mumbled under her breath. But even the sober githyanki could barely hide a smile.

Shadowheart shushed her as well. Wyll had just been silently shaking his head for the last couple of minutes. Shadowheart had started taking bets on how long it would take the oblivious vampire to realise the cruel trick that was being played on him. Karlach, being way too optimistic, had already lost some coin to the cleric with their estimate of a few minutes.

Only Gale who had been busy this far with some of his thousand books had missed the whole spectacle so far. Just now had the wizard realised that something was going down. He eyed the fighting trio of you Astarion and stone Astarion and then the group of bystanders, trying to decipher the situation. When he couldn't make any logical sense of any of it he went over to the small onlooking group. "I appear to have missed something? What is-"

Shadowheart hissed at him to shut up, causing Gale to flinch back with a hurt facial expression. Wyll though wasn't impressed by the cleric and enlightened his friend: "It looks like our clever leader Tav has taken up the offer of getting a stone statue of Astarion for a bargain of 5000 gold without telling anyone. And now we're betting how long it's going to take him to realise it's him."

Shadowheart stared the Blade of Frontiers down. Wyll merely shrugged his shoulders. He'd faced more fearsome creatures than the cleric aplenty.

Gale just blinked several times at him, letting the words settle. Then a grin spread on the wizard's face. "I bet 100 gold it's gonna take him at least until the end of the day."

Shadowheart's furious expression lightened noticeably and she stretched out her hand to Gale. They shook on the bet. Then everyone turned back to the two Astarion's and you to continue watching the scene.

"Why in the nine hells would you get a statue of some random guy - he isn't that... Well, he is quite handsome!" Astarion yelled at you while you had to hide your face in your hands desperately trying to pull yourself together.

The vampire didn't let up: "Well, if only it had been me, then I would have understood, darling, who wouldn't want that as a piece of decor, but-"

That was it, you broke. Hysterical laughter started shaking you, up to the point where you doubled over and could barely breathe between laughing and crying from laughing.

The vampire meanwhile went through the whole spectrum of emotions known under the sun in a matter of seconds. Angered, confused, flustered. And then finally something in the elf’s brain clicked together.

He stared at the statue then at you, back to the statue and suddenly his hands wandered over his own face as if to grasp it's lines and shapes.

"You...," he started and stopped. Through your tears you were sure you could see the vampire's pointy ears turn bright pink. "That IS me!"

You were barely able to nod as another fit of laughter shook you. Astarion’s mouth opened several times but no sound came out. A rare occasion to the see the sassy rogue so void of words.

Meanwhile, a bunch of moans could be heard from the other side of camp where Shadowheart collected her won gold from the others.)

"Why would you-", Astarion began and his expression was barely readable while your laughter slowly died down and you were able to kneel back on your feet.

"Didn't you say it yourself? He's quite handsome, isn't he? Now you get to see for yourself again."

Astarion pointed an angry finger at you about to throw another fit but then his eyes fell on the statue again. Now with knowing what it was and what it meant it shut him up immediately.

He took a few steps closer to get a better look. His anger at you momentarily forgotten as he gazed upon his own image for the first time in over 200 years.

[barcaatthemoon]

love me tender || leah williamson x reader ||

leah helps you through some of your pain after you tear your acl.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

the ache in your leg was almost overwhelming. you had spent all day stuck in bed unable to move because of it. you knew that tearing your acl during camp was bad, but you had never expected the pain to be this bad. usually leah was there to get you medicine and take care of you, but it would be another hour and a half before she got back from practice.

all you wanted was some sort of distraction from the pain, but you were quickly running out of options. usually, you'd try to watch something, but you couldn't focus on anything. sleep was always good, if only you weren't in so much pain that you couldn't even begin to fall asleep.

after nearly an hour, you remembered what you had done for leah whenever she had a bad day when her acl had been torn. you knew that it'd be hard for you to cum in so much pain, but the pleasure was a nice distraction from everything going on with your body.

it was a slow start with your hands massaging the inside of your own thighs. you closed your eyes and tried to think of all the things that leah usually did to you. you let your fingers dance all across your own skin like hers did. all you wanted was leah, but you could only hope that she'd be back soon. and as much as you wanted her, you truly and deeply believed that she deserved some time away from you.

"fuck leah," you moaned as your fingers finally dipped down past your shorts. you were definitely teasing yourself as you stroked your fingers against yourself through your underwear. they'd be ruined if you continued like this for long, but you could always buy another pair or two later.

just as you were awkwardly shimmying out of your shorts and underwear, leah was entering the apartment. leah generally liked to announce her arrival, but since it was so quiet and you had been a bit down when she left, leah assumed that you were sleeping. she quietly tiptoed up the little set of stairs to your bedroom and pushed open the door.

your eyes were screwed shut as you pleasured yourself. leah's gaze was torn between your two hands. your left hand was grabbing at your breasts, alternating to give attention to both. your right hand was rubbing furiously at your clit as your hips moved up and down trying to chase after something that you knew was futile. even without the pain, you hadn't made yourself cum since you started regularly having sex with leah.

"oh my god," leah whispered in shock as she watched you. you had absolutely no clue that leah was there until you felt the dip in the bed as she moved to lay between your legs. "move your hand up and don't stop on my account, i want to help you. please."

"okay," you agreed. you moved your right hand up to tease your other breast. leah licked her lips as she took in the sight once more before she dove down between your legs. leah's tongue moved slowly against your clit, and the switch from your frantic rubbing made your head spin. "leah, oh my god. you feel so good."

"that's all i want to do. all i ever want to do is make you feel good love," leah told you. "do you want my fingers too?"

"no, i like this. this is good," you answered. leah hummed as she dipped her head down once again. the slow strides of her tongue helped to calm you down a bit. it was much easier not to think about your pain with leah pleasuring you instead of trying to do it yourself.

leah's hand moved to gently rub around your knee, seemingly soothing some of that pressure away as well. you began to feel the relaxation spread throughout your entire body at this. you were used to exciting and dramatic orgasms with leah, but the subtly of this one was welcome. too much thrashing around and muscle stress only would have hurt you further. leah seemed to know this, and backed away as soon as you showed signs of coming down.

"stay there, i'll be right back," leah ordered. she gave you a quick peck on the lips before she left you on the bed. you stayed there until she came back to wipe away the mess between your legs. she cleaned you up, but you could tell that she wasn't finished yet. you were given clean clothes, and by the time that you were finished dressing yourself, leah was back with an ice pack and some pain pills for your knee.

"all for me?" you tilted your head and smiled up at her. the sight of you made leah's chest feel warmer. you were visibly more relaxed than you had been when she left. that had been a point of contention that morning with leah insisting that she could reschedule her afternoon plans because of the pain in your knee. "you don't have to do all this."

"of course i do, and not just because your big sister scares me. i seem to remember you giving up almost everything to take care of me when i got hurt. i've never been great at this sort of thing, it kind of hurt my relationship with jordan, but i'm getting better. that's because of you, you've shown me how to be a proper homemaker," leah said. she tried to laugh and make it sound more casual than it was, but you could hear the little waiver in her voice.

"you didn't need help, you just needed to get over yourself first. don't worry though, i won't let any of the other girls know that you're so soft. i know that georgia and lucy wouldn't let you hear the end of it," you laughed. leah bit her lip as she looked away from you. still, you could see the rosy hue to her cheeks that wasn't usually there. "but if you want, you can go around telling them all that i made you a kept woman."

"maybe, but i doubt that would do anything for my reputation. keira already gives me shit for how whipped i am for you. i don't know how she knows about that though, do you have any idea (y/n)?"

"not a clue, maybe she just sees right through you," you muttered as you leaned in to kiss leah. leah scoffed, but still accepted the kiss graciously. "lee, baby, do you think that you could get me something to eat? chicken and noodles if we have any left in the fridge please."

"i'll be right back." leah left without even stopping to think, not even when she heard you chuckle as she made her way down the steps. leah knew that she was whipped, and it wouldn't have taken your weekly phone calls with keira for the midfielder to figure that one out. she had stayed with both you and leah the last time that she was in london before you'd officially moved in together, so she had seen firsthand the way leah was around you.

[emotionoitme]

trouble

trouble - coldplay

part 3 of don’t call my name

warnings: angst, hurt + arguing but it’s steamy, drinking and clubbing, some violence (she gets grabbed and threatened but nothing happens), guard dog carmy bark bark, carmy throws hands & brief mention of blood. comfort sex, sappy and sweet but hot, it’s unprotected what else did you expect from me, dirty talk, some drama with claire i’m sorry 

wc: 9.0k

a/n: so…i told everyone this was going to be 3 parts when it actually needs 4. i fear i am just too much of a yapper. i love these two and think i needed to do the story justice. so stay tuned for ch4. hehehehe. hope u enjoy!!! (it is going to get angsty) 

playlist

carmen berzatto is a shitty communicator. 

this we know to be a fact. 

it’s just, sometimes when there are a thousand thoughts swarming around his head, it’s easier to not say anything at all. that makes sense, right? 

the girl wakes up the next morning to find herself alone. the plush king sized bed almost mocks her with emptiness.

she knows that carmy is a hard worker. a michelin star kitchen doesn’t just run itself. still, it might be nice to get a note, or text, or anything that would reassure her last night wasn’t just some fluke to to him. 

the silence of the apartment is almost deafening. she trudges down the stairs and walks to the kitchen, pouring herself what was left in the coffee pot from carmy’s early morning. 

she feels lethargic, sore, and a little stung from waking up alone. no text or anything, she thinks. 

but there was still time. maybe he was just really busy today. she pushes away the negative thoughts and slaps both of her cheeks lightly, trying to wake herself up. it would be a good day. he would text her or call her when he got a break. and they would talk about it. she puts a smile on her face at the delusion and hops back up the stairs to get dressed for work. 

the girl tries to busy herself when she gets there, picking up extra slack from coworkers and bustling around to finish projects. trying to not check her phone. 

she goes on lunch break with no text from him. 

gets off work at 5 with no text from him. 

throws his sheets in the wash and remakes his bed with no text from him. 

eats dinner with no text from him. 

watches a movie at 9:30 with, you guessed it. 

she throws her phone back onto the bed angrily, the false wall of positivity built in her mind beginning to crumble. she’s tired and annoyed, so she shuts off the movie and buries herself in bed, trying to push thoughts of him out of mind so she could sleep. 

she tells herself that they can talk tomorrow. but then, tomorrow comes and it’s the same nothing, almost like she didn’t even have a roommate. 

three silent days go by until the girl decides she’s had enough, and plans to wait up for him and have a talk. maybe he just wasn’t a texting type of guy, she tries to comfort herself. 

she grabs her book and a throw blanket and camps out on the couch, waiting for him to get home. 

it’s close to midnight before she hears keys jingling and the lock turning. her heart drops inexplicably but she remains nonchalant and continues reading her book until she hears him take a few steps inside. 

she turns her head, watching him talk on the phone as he slides his shoes off. he doesn’t notice her in the dim light of the living room, and his brows are furrowed, hand running through his messy curls. 

“yeah. yeah, i’m- i know….sorry again,” a pause, “okay. i’ll see you saturday. bye, claire.” 

her eyebrows shoot up at the name, the sinking feeling with in her stomach increasing tenfold. this motherfucker. 

carmen makes it halfway into the living room before he notices her on the couch, slightly startling at her presence, mumbling a “shit”

her face feels hot, but not in the good way she had grown accustomed to the past few weeks. 

“hey,” he greets softly, eyes looking tired, shoulders slumped. 

she just glares at him and goes back to reading her book. 

he says her name. she ignores him.

the man lets out a small scoff, stepping closer to the couch, hand on his hip. 

“what, you, uh, ignoring me?” 

she glances up at him and there’s a small smirk on his face, like he thinks it’s joke or something. 

she opens her mouth to say something mean, but stops herself. takes a deep breath. recenters. 

she slams her book shut and turns to face him. 

“i’m going to bed.” 

the man’s small smirk drops, watching as she shoots up from the couch and starts heading towards the stairs. he grabs her wrist to stop her. 

“hey,” he says, firmer this time. 

she whips around and pulls her arm back. 

“what?” she snaps. 

his brows furrow at her tone of voice. he pauses for a second, eyes raking down her face, taking in her expression. 

“why are you acting like that?” he asks. 

the question does nothing but make her feel angrier. 

“because you’re being fucking confusing,” the girl exclaims, her throat growing tight.

“how am i confusing?” carmen replies with a surge of annoyance, “you woke me up the other night with…” his eyes dart down her frame, “half your fuckin’ clothes on.” he tries to sound angry, but his voice betrays him a bit. truthfully, it was like his prayers had come true when he opened his eyes to find her straddling him in underwear and a tiny little top that barely kept her chest contained. 

“yeah cause i thought you were into me,” she frustratedly sighs, “but you’re just…using me to get over claire.” 

the allegation wasn’t rooted in fact. but that’s how the girl felt, and she confuses the two in the moment. 

“don’t say that.” he snaps, “that’s not fuckin’ true in the slightest.” carmen had been done with claire for months at this point. if anything, he had been trying to use claire to get over his roommate.

“it’s been three days since we-… and you haven’t said anything,” she sighs, rubbing her forehead, feeling a headache come on. 

he knows his, and feels guiltier than she could even imagine. but he also knows she’s leaving in a few short weeks, and doesn’t want to fall any deeper than he already has for her. 

“i got busy at work.” he defends. it’s a shitty excuse, but as usual, it’s the first to come to mind. 

her eyes brows crease further. 

“you have a phone.” she chides.

“i just…i didn’t think about it,” he lies, “i’m sorry.”

she scoffs and shakes her head. 

“god, you’re so-,” another sigh, “you know, whatever, carm.” she turns from him and begins to walk up the stairs. 

he hates how his eyes glance down to her ass, peaking out from beneath a pair of short shorts. 

god he’s a fucking loser, he tells himself. 

carmy calls her name again. she ignores him. 

-

the girl slams her bedroom door behind her and throws herself onto her bed. she tries to fight the hot, angry tears that stream down her face, telling herself it doesn’t really bother her. telling herself that he’s just another stupid guy, and she can find better. this does nothing to ease the burning feeling in her chest, though, a pair of soft blue eyes flashing in her mind. thinking of the way he was rough with her while still being gentle, kissing her face and calling her sweet names. thinking of how he held her and wiped her tears and assured her that things would work out. 

fucking asshole! 

she grabs her duvet and pulls it over her head, wrapping herself tightly and burrowing into the pillow. she tells herself that she won’t make the mistake of giving into him again. wouldn’t ever grace him with her lips or fingers or sweet moans again. 

she tells herself that she doesn’t need him. she could easily find someone else that would satisfy that same feral craving she had for carmen. 

in fact, tomorrow would be friday, and she hadn’t gone out in a long time. she decides on calling up a friend and making a friday night plan to go out. drink, dance, and prove to herself that there’s better for her out there than carmy. 

the girl aggressively rubs her face of tears and shoots up out of bed, grabbing her phone to send the invitation to a girlfriend. her phone pings with a quick response, and the girl confirms her plan for the following night, already envisioning what to wear. the thought of seeing carmy tomorrow night before she goes out makes her stomach churn. the thought of seeing him at all makes it churn, actually. 

she tells herself that she only has to stick it out for another month or so. then she would go back to california and things would be normal. no more stupid boys. no more heated touches. no more whimpers being greedily devoured by hungry kisses. 

she tells herself that’s what she wants. 

it doesn’t feel genuine in the slightest. 

the following morning she rummages through her closet and picks out a couple of skimpy options. she studies herself in the mirror, holding up the various items up in front of her nude body, wondering what carmy would think of the outfits. she quickly tries to push the thought out of mind. she doesn’t care what he thinks, she reminds herself. her eyes fixate on the finger-shaped bruises scattered about her hips. she thinks of how they got there. 

her day at work seems to go impossibly slow. the girl finds herself thinking of carmen constantly, caught between hoping there would be a text from him when she would check her phone and hoping she would never hear from him again. 

her mind frequently flashes to the way he handled her a few nights ago. how he kissed her obsessively. how he held her up once her legs had given out. how he relentlessly plowed into her and called her a pretty girl and told her she was made for him. 

the thought simultaneously makes her horny and angry, something that she had never experienced so vividly until now. she wanted to slap his face, but at the same time she wanted to kiss him and grind against him and beg for him again. 

it’s entirely confusing. 

by the time 10 o clock rolls around, she begins to get ready, meticulously styling her hair and applying her makeup. she opts for a sultry, smokey look, accentuating her eyes with dark shadow and liner, glossing her pouty lips with a clear lacquer. the girl tries to hurry the routine, anxious to make it out the door before carmen gets back. 

she strips her clothes off and slips into her club apparel, then decorates her look with rings, bracelets, earrings, and a necklace. as she slides her thigh high boots on, she hears the front door open, then slam closed.

“fuck,” she harshly exhales. looks like she would have to see him after all. 

carmy racks his keys onto the hook and steps out of his shoes, taking a deep breath at the relief of being home. it’s not until he notices the light coming from upstairs that the relief is replaced with a sense of anxiety. 

he knows he needs to fix things between him and his roommate, if he could even refer to her as just that anymore. he had felt like a jackass all week, but apologies were never really his strong suit. he didn’t even know where to start. 

the man empties his pockets out onto the credenza, then begins to make his way into the living room. he stops in his tracks when he hears the click of heels descending the stairs. 

as he turns his head and catches sight of her, he fights to stifle a groan. 

she comes down clad in a tight top and mini skirt, length of her legs emphasized by black thigh high boots. his eyes rake down her body, admiring the curve of her figure and the appealing fit of the clothes. he wishes that she would dress like that all the time, but he doesn’t tell her that, instead just opting for a casual, albeit slightly strained “hey.”

she looks at him, but doesn’t reply, instead sauntering over to their bar cart and pouring herself a shot. he realizes the top is backless, and clenches his jaw a bit, trying to recenter with a deep breath. 

“you, uh…you look nice,” he clears his throat. 

she throws back the shot and shivers. 

“thanks,” her response comes dryly, walking over to grab her purse, “i’ll be back in a few hours.”

carmen feels his brain stutter, processing what she said, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“wait you, uh, you’re going out dressed like that?” he can’t help but feel a bit protective, even if she is pissed off at him. the girl scoffs. 

“i can’t really go to the club in sweatpants, carm.” 

he rubs a hand over his face, trying to keep calm. 

“you could, uh….at least put a fuckin’ jacket on or something though?” he tries to suggest kindly. his tone betrays him. 

“yeah?” she turns towards him, “why the fuck do you care?” bite in her tone. 

his eyes fall over the multiple hickeys that litter her neck, then flicker over her face, realizing how striking her features look accentuated by dark makeup. she looks angry. a little hurt. he wants to say something soothing. 

“cause i-fuck,” hand threading through his hair messily, “because i know how guys think.” 

nice. real soothing. 

“yeah? n’what do they think?” she challenges. 

that anyone would want you. that you look fucking hot wearing those tight little clothes.

carmy opts to not respond so directly, and walks closer to her. 

“i just don’t want you to get… hurt.” his tone is firm, jaw set tightly. she lets out a sardonic laugh at this. at the fact that he’s her biggest source of hurt at the moment.

“what, you think it’s funny?” he barks, “you could get fuckin’…picked up or drugged or something.” 

she rolls her eyes. 

“that’s not gonna happen. i’m going with a friend.” she snatches her purse off the credenza, fumbling through it to make sure she has her id. he takes a few steps closer. until he can smell her sweet perfume. 

“well, let me drive you guys then.” 

she shakes her head. 

“no. we’re getting a cab.” zipping up her purse and hanging it over her shoulder. 

“fuck, then call me when you get there. and when you’re leaving.” he snaps a bit, becoming a bit fed up with her attitude. 

“not gonna fuckin’ call you, carmy,” her face scrunches up in anger, “i’ll probably end up going home with someone, anyways,” she fibs, locking eyes with him, unintentionally leaning in a bit. 

“you what?” he angers, moving even closer to her, their faces mere inches apart. 

she can feel the shot she took now, eyes darting down to his lips. fuck his deodorant. the smell of it makes her want to give in.

“‘mgonna find someone tonight,” her tone lower now, lids low, “‘n they’re gonna fuck me better than you ever will.” 

he scoffs, blood boiling at her words, shaking his head, eyebrow twitching. 

“yeah, uh, that’s not gonna fuckin’ happen.” his hand comes to wrap around her hip, squeezing. his face comes closer, lips nearly ghosting hers.

“yeah?” she challenges, actively fighting to keep from diving in, eyes locked on his lips.

“yeah,” tone firm, “tell your friend you’re staying in tonight.” 

she doesn’t know why she feels so turned on. still pissed off, yes, but mostly aroused. 

she rolls her eyes and lets out a laugh to hide this, but he can tell. he can always tell by the slight flutter of her eyelids and the way she’ll part her lips. he knows that she likes when he talks to her like that. 

the girl channels all of her strength and steps away from him, opening the front door. 

“see you tomorrow,” she chimes, walking out. he calls her name as she walks away, but she ignores him. he tells himself he’s too proud to chase after her, but really he wants to do nothing more. 

as she makes her way down the hall, his eyes rake down her exposed back, settling on her shapely ass. 

this girl was going to drive him fucking crazy. 

-

carmy berzatto (2hrs): you make it there? 

missed call from carmy berzatto (1hr)

carmy berzatto (30min): call me if you need a ride home. 

the girl shuts off her phone, shoving it back in her purse and strutting to the bar counter. sure, now he cared enough to send a text. 

jealous motherfucker. 

it had been a girls night out until her friend went home with an ex boyfriend, leaving her all alone at the club. she leans over the counter, pushing her hair over her shoulder. her feet are sore from the boots she had picked out, coupled with an hour or so of nonstop dancing. 

the girl had planned to leave as soon as her friend did, but made the mistake of passing through the main room where they were playing 2000s music. she couldn’t just not dance to 2000s. 

the bartender works quickly to accommodate the numerous orders. she feels the drink she had been sipping on affecting her, comfortably bathing in the multicolored lights of the club. it was packed with people, and she had been noticing eyes on her all night. 

the girl feels a hand on her lower back, and she turns to meet the eyes of a tall man.

“hi,” he says.

“hey,” she softly replies.

he was admittedly handsome, and his muscular stature didn’t hurt to look at either. 

“can i buy you a drink?” the man asks. 

the girl softly smiles and nods. he raises his hand to flag the bartender. she was planning on getting a water, but since she wasn’t paying for it…

the stranger makes small talk with her, the two having to practically yell into each other’s ear to hear over the bass of the music. jobs, what part of town they live, compliments. not that she really cares about any of it, though she tries to. 

as he leans in to ask if she’ll dance with him, he places his hand on her waist. she tries to ignore how it doesn’t feel right. 

he’s cute, she tells herself, and i needs to stop thinking about carmy. 

the girl takes a long sip of her drink and nods softly, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor. they squeeze through the crowd of bodies, and she turns to face him, hand on his chest. he places a hand on her lower back, and they begin to move to the beat. she takes another long sip of her drink, closing her eyes, coming closer to the man, swaying her hips. his deodorant doesn’t smell as good as carmen’s does. doesn’t comfort her like his does. 

she takes another sip, and she circles around, moving her hips, facing away from the man. the music resonates through the whole building, lights flash and change color, making her movements feel dreamlike. he places his hands on her hips. 

she wishes that she liked how it felt. 

the man presses his hips into her backside. she imagines it’s carmen, and the thought makes her bite down onto her lip. her head falls back against his chest. she thinks of her roommate’s strong arms. his tattoos. the way his face scrunched up when he fully engulfed himself in her. the girl lets out a breath. her skin feels hot and sticky in the muggy club air. she takes another long sip of alcohol, feeling lips on her neck. they feel strange and unfamiliar. it doesn’t set off that tingling sensation in her lower stomach. she groans out of frustration. 

“mmm you like that don’t you, pretty girl?” the man slurs into her ear. 

the name makes her heart drop, and all of the sudden she feels like she needs to throw up. she shoves the stranger’s hands away and stumbles forward, pushing her way out of the crowd. the floor feels like it’s tilting on an axis as she cringes at the feeling of other sweaty bodies touching her. she gets shoved into by a big group and loses her drink. 

it’s suddenly hard to breathe. the girl feels her throat tighten, her chest burning, wiping hot tears away. she fights and pushes and weaves through the crowd until she finally breaks free, making a beeline for the glowing red exit sign. the girl shoves the door open, almost tripping over the frame, and stumbles out into the cold night. 

the frigid air helps alleviate some of her nausea, skin rising in goosebumps. she trudges along the brick wall and leans her back against it, focusing on taking deep breaths. her hands run through her messy hair, pushing it out of her face, closing her eyes, trying to stop the steady flow of tears. 

this night was supposed to be fun, but all she wanted to do was go home and sleep this booze off. all she wanted was carmen. 

her hands fumble through her purse, grabbing her phone. she drops it, muttering a “shit,” and crouches down to pick it up. she squints her eyes at the light of the display, struggling to navigate to the uber app. she enters her address, cursing internally when she sees the friday night surge prices. instead, she exits uber and finds her contacts, hovering over the number of a cab company. her eyes glance towards carmen's contact, right below. 

she doesn’t want to call him. he was being an asshole, and she hates how easily he was able to get under her skin. so she dials the contact for the cab, listening to the line ring. and ring. and ring. almost infinitely, then a automated voice of “your call cannot be completed.” 

“fuck,” she curses, terminating the call. 

her eyes fixate on his name, pausing and contemplating. 

she rolls her eyes and dials it. the line rings twice and gets picked up with a raspy greeting and a “y’okay?” 

she stays silent for a second, not sure what to say. he says her name. 

“did you know that you are-” she hiccups, “s-so mean?” it’s the only thing that comes to mind. 

“are you drunk?” he asks.

“no. m’not” she argues, wiping a stray tear. 

“you sound drunk,” he retorts, “where are you? i’m coming to get you.” 

“you’re so fucking…rude. ‘nyou think you can just do whatever you want because you’re so-” hiccup, “hot… and big…you irritate me, carm,” she slurs into the line. she opens her mouth to say more, but he cuts her off by saying her name sternly. 

“you at prysm? tunnel?” 

“yeah. that one.” she hiccups again. 

“tunnel? okay, stay right there. i’m getting in my car now.” 

“ok but i’m still mad at you,” she murmurs, leaning against the cool brick. he scoffs, and starts saying something about her bad attitude, but she cuts him off by hanging up, harshly exhaling and closing her eyes tightly. the tears continue falling, so she just tries to focus on her breathing. 

a cool breeze causes her to stiffen, wrapping her arms around herself, shivering. it’s uncomfortable, but grounding. her head stops spinning so much as she begins to breathe deeply. the tears come to a steady stop, but the aching in her chest doesn’t. she wishes carmen would hold her and kiss her head. 

around fifteen minutes pass before she hears the back door of the club open. the girl keeps her eyes shut, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t bother her. though it seems she’s not so lucky tonight, unfortunately. 

“hey, you,” a deep voice says. she snaps her eyes open to find the same tall man she was dancing with earlier standing in front of her. 

she just stares at him silently, crossing her arms in front of her to help provide some modesty. 

“listen, i think we get along well. and you’re really hot,” he explains drunkenly, “why don’t i help you get home?” 

she feels icked out, trying to refrain from rolling her eyes.

“m’not interested, sorry. i have someone coming to pick me up.” 

the man scoffs. 

“you were plenty interested earlier when i bought you a drink,” taking a step closer to her, “c’mon. don’t be a tease.” he has a smirk on his face. she feels her heart begin to pound against her chest. 

carmy was right, it was a mistake to come out. she tries to take a step away from him, blocked by the hard brick wall. 

“seriously, i’m not interested,” she tries to sound assertive, “my boyfriend will be here any second so just leave me alone.” she hopes he can’t read through her lie. 

“your boyfriend?” he asks, smirk turning into a grin, “you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? someone should fucking straighten you out.”

her heart drops to her stomach, and she feels sick all over again. she steps forward to shove past him, and he grabs her waist, slamming her back into the wall. 

“don’t fucking touch me!” she yells, grabbing his wrists and digging her nails in. he doesn’t let go. tears begin to stream down her face, heart hammering against her ribcage. she sees headlights from down the street and prays that it’s carmen, continuing to struggle against the man. 

the car speeds up to the curb and jerks to a stop, door flying open. she shuts her eyes tightly and digs her nails in hard enough to draw blood, giving a final attempt at trying to get his hands off of her. 

the girl is suddenly released as the man is jerked backwards by his shoulder. her eyes snap open and graciously land on the person she’s been wanting to see the most. 

everything happens so fast—watching in a haze as carmen practically decks the guy in the face, sending the stranger stumbling back, gripping a bloody nose. 

“you muverfuckr!” he slurs, words muffled by a dripping hand, lunging forward again. carmy shuffles back, then throws another jab square in the face. the man falls backwards onto the ground, sitting on the concrete, looking entirely disoriented. the girl gasps, feeling partially sobered by the scene. 

she watches as the stranger’s blood drips onto the pavement, then darts her gaze over to carmen. his eyes look crazed, jaw tightly locked. he begins to stalk towards the man, clenching his fists that were spotted with red. 

the girl reaches out and grabs his arm. he turns to look at her and his features immediately soften, taking in her tear-soaked cheeks and swollen lips. without thinking, he grabs her arm and pulls her into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around her in a protective bear hug. she clings to his shirt, and cries. he kisses the top of her head. 

he smells so good. smells so safe. 

“s’okay. i got you,” he soothes, “you’re okay.” the man says this as a reassurance to himself as well, rubbing her back, feeling his throat tighten and eyes water a bit. 

the stranger lay flat on his back now, clutching his bleeding nose, mumbling incoherently. 

carmen pulls back from the embrace, but keeps an arm wrapped tightly around her, ushering her to the car. she stumbles a bit, holding onto him securely. she wishes the tears would stop, but they don’t. she feels so scared. so relieved. so fucking grateful. 

he gets her into the car, shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. she doesn’t want to look at him when he gets in, so she hides her face in her hand, elbow leaning on the arm rest. he doesn’t say anything for the duration of the drive home either. 

she feels embarrassed, tired, and still a little mad at carmy. the whole reason she had wanted to go out and meet guys in the first place was because of his stupid situationship with claire. it was like it made her go into defense mode. 

they had been driving for about 5 minutes, before she feels a dull throbbing in her head, stomach growling, alcohol in her system making her crave greasy nasty salty food. 

she raises her head from her hand, looking at carmen. his eyebrows were knit together tightly, jaw clenched. she leans her head against the headrest as she stares at him lovingly. she loves how protective he gets over her. how strong he is. how blindingly handsome. 

but she’s still mad, of course. 

he catches her gazing at him in his periphery. he looks over, features softening as he catches her eyes momentarily.

“what’s up?” he asks, voice low.

she just looks at him. her lip pouts a bit. 

“you hungry?” comes his question, perfectly timed. 

she allows a soft smile to grace her lips at the accuracy of his guess. 

“mmhm,” she nods, “a burger sounds really good right now. and french fries.” 

he lets out a quiet chuckle, nodding his head, glancing at her again. 

“let’s get you a burger and french fries, then.” 

he turns his signal on and moves to make a quick left, pulling into a drive-thru after a few minutes.

they sit in line waiting for the order to be cooked. she glances over at his face. she wants to kiss him, a little. 

“d’yknow what the ultimate hangover food is?” she asks softly. 

he turns to face her, eyebrows raised in question, a look of amusement on his face. 

“an all american breakfast,” she murmurs with a smile.

“yeah?” he asks, “like…pancakes?”

she nods, biting her lip with a smile. he lets out a soft laugh at this.

“and bacon and eggs. and hash browns. fuck,” her eyes are closed, like she’s imagining it in front of her. this makes the man laugh a bit harder, hand coming to smooth over his face. 

“good answer,” he tells her once he stops smiling as much. 

“what’s yours?” she asks, gazing at him a bit longingly. 

“my what?” 

“your hangover cure food.”

“uh, probably…saltines?”. 

the girl lets out a laugh. 

“the alcohol upsets my stomach,” he admits. 

she laughs harder, burying her face in her hands. 

“you are so cute,” she amuses. 

he fights the heat that rushes to his face when she says this, and they pull forward to the pick up window. 

the girl takes her first bite into the greasy burger that carmen insists on paying for, and it makes her feel more human than she has all night. 

-

carmy parks the car in his assigned lot, then gets out to assist his roommate out of the car. the food helped her feel much more grounded, but she still has to cling onto his arm to be able to walk straight through the building. 

neither of them say anything. this lasts until they get back to their unit, and carmy locks the door behind them. he watches as the girl stumbles out of her shoes and crashes onto the couch. she throws an arm over her eyes and tries to push away the nausea that comes with laying down. 

“thank you,” she murmurs into her arm after a moment.

“mhm,” he responds, “told you to call me when you needed a ride, though,” shrugging off his jacket.

“i did,” she argues.

“no, you called me… way after you needed one. and you stood outside waiting for me,” his tone grows harsher.

if she wasn’t so nauseous, she’d roll her eyes. 

“i was trying to get away from all the guys that were trying to take me home,” she retorts. she means it to be teasing, but it’s clear he doesn’t take it that way by the peak she steals through her arms. 

“y’know, you-,” he scoffs, “i’m glad you think it’s fuckin’ funny because i-fuck…i was worried about you” he throws his keys onto the table, feeling angry, feeling scared. 

she throws her other arm over her face. her cheeks are hot with embarrassment. her throat suddenly feels tight at his words, like she’s going to cry again. she doesn’t say anything out of fear of her voice breaking. 

carmy chides her name, stalking over to the couch. he stands over her, expectantly waiting for a response, jaw clenching with annoyance. he nudges her arm. she moves it, revealing her tired bloodshot eyes. 

“can we not do this tonight?” she begs hoarsely, “m’so drunk.” 

“you fucking scared me,” he exclaims, grabbing his hair, “what would’ve happened if i didn’t get there in time, huh?” 

“i know,” she sobs, tears now freely flowing, hiding her face in her arms again. 

his heart breaks a bit, watching her cry like that. but he feels so angry that she put herself at risk like that. 

“you-” he stops. takes a deep breath to recenter. “you’re right. let’s not do this tonight.” 

she peaks at him through her arms, feeling completely pathetic. she watches him turn on the small lamp by the couch. he drapes a throw blanket over her before turning to walk upstairs. 

tears continue inexplicably trailing down her cheeks, as her deep breathing begins to lul her into sleep. 

an hour passes. 

she shifts to try and get comfy to no avail. 

30 more minutes. 

everything was so uncomfortable. 

she sits up quickly and shoots off the couch, beelining for the stairs, desperate to get the crunchy makeup and scratchy clothes off. 

she falls up the stairs in her sleepy scramble, knocking against the wall loudly. slowly stands up, holds onto the rail, and exhales before continuing to ascend much more carefully. 

as she walks down the hallway, she unashamedly begins to strip out of her clothing, leaving a trail that leads to the bathroom, telling herself she would take care of it later. she feels sick and lethargic, needing a shower immediately. 

the girl leaves the bathroom light off as she draws a cold shower and steps in right away, drenching herself in the frigid water. she tenses, letting out a sharp exhale, feeling almost immediately soothed. 

it’s as if the water washes away everything bad from the night. she meditatively goes through her routine, cleaning herself. cleaning away everything that happened tonight. cleaning away the man who touched her on the dancefloor, outside of the club. 

the shame and embarrassment that begins to seep in as the alcohol wears off doesn’t wash away as easily. she needs to apologize, she knows that.

the girl dries herself off and wraps her hair in a towel as she walks back to her room, feeling more of a pep in her step following the refreshing shower. she bends down to pick up the strung out clothing she left behind, feeling like she was going crazy because her underwear was nowhere to be found. it would just have to wait until tomorrow, she supposes. 

she’s moisturized and laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. tossing and turning. taking a deep breath. softening her face, muscles. thinking of nice things.

drifting off. mind flashing back to the man grabbing her and slamming her against the brick wall. thinking of what would’ve happened had carmy not come to her rescue. 

her eyes snap open. she sharply inhales and sits up, hanging her legs over the side of the bed. it was going to be impossible to get sleep like this, heart beating way too fast to try and relax. 

she just wants to feel safe. 

without a second thought, she stands and begins walking to carmy’s room. 

she knows he’s pissed off at her. knows he’ll probably tell her to get out. even so, she’s so desperate to get some sleep. so desperate to ease the anxiety that had been festering inside of her all night. 

his door is closed, and she hesitates for a moment before twisting the knob and slipping inside. 

it’s dark—the curtains drawn when they usually aren’t. he lay shirtless on his side, facing away from the door, clutching a pillow in his arms. 

the girl peels back his sheets and slowly slips into bed, resting her head on the soft pillow. she stays there for a moment before scooting closer and laying her face against his back. he’s so warm, and his skin smells safe. her eyes fall shut. she feels him shift. 

carmen wakes up unexpectedly to the feeling of warmth behind him. he knows it’s her without having to look. when she had noisily stumbled upstairs and into the shower, he went to go check on her—almost knocked on the bathroom door, but refrained once he heard soft cries from within. 

he feels her face nuzzle into his back, and he reaches his arm back behind him, wanting to feel where she lay. he touches her hip.

“hi,” she greets softly. 

“hey,” he returns, voice raspy, “y’can’t sleep?” 

she scoots closer to him, hand splaying over his back. 

“just a little… freaked out still…” she whispers. her tone wobbles. 

he shifts at this, and turns around to face her silently. in the low light she can make out the worried furrow of his brows.

she feels guilty for being the subject of his worry. 

“i’m sorry,” the girl confesses, biting back tears. 

carmen’s brows crease further at her apology, immediately wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest. she tucks her face into his neck, shutting her eyes tightly, smelling his skin. 

“y’got nothing to be sorry for,” he plants a kiss atop her head, “wasn’t your fault.” 

“it was my fault,” her voice breaks, “should’ve listened to you,” her arms come around his neck, and she presses her body flush with his. 

“it wasn’t,” he asserts, “that guy was a fuckin’ creep.” his tone is hushed. his arms wrap around her as if he’s scared of losing her. 

“are you still mad at me?” she asks. her breath tickles his neck. 

“i wasn’t mad,” he admits, “just scared.” 

“me too,” matching his hushed tone. “thank you carm,” she whispers, pressing a kiss below his ear, “feel so safe with you.” she shuffles closer, pelvis pressing against his. 

“you are,” he buries his nose in her hair, “always.” hiking her leg over his hip to bring her closer. 

the girl kisses his neck again. and again. pulls him in closer. his smell is completely addicting, and with the angle of her leg she can feel his erection growing against her core. she hopes he can’t feel the wetness that begins to form beneath her shorts. 

his big palm spreads over her ass and squeezes, desperate to hold every inch of her. 

the girl deeply exhales, bothered by how easily he’s able to rouse her. 

the man harshly exhales at the repeated feeling of her bites and licks and kisses, holding onto her with an urgent desperation. trying to wrap around her as if he were keeping her from the world. 

the room becomes hot, and the two shuffle the duvet off. 

carmen calls her name, trying to break her attention. he wants to apologize. wants to confess his shortcomings. wants to look in her big eyes and tell her he’s not enough and never will be. but she ignores his beckon and continues enthusiastically biting and sucking and kissing, hand pressing against his chest. 

he forces his eyes to stay open, weight of his bottled apology heavy on his tongue. 

“hey,” he tries again, voice strained from the pleasure.

“can you put it in?” she breathes into his neck.

“fuck,” he groans, surprised by her forward request, feeling himself pulse against her wetness. 

“please,” she whines, hiking her leg further up onto his hip, trailing her kisses along his jaw, up to his cheek.

he squeezes her ass again, fingers slipping under the fabric of her tiny shorts. her skin was so soft. so hot with arousal. 

“let me play with you,” he strains, “get you ready f’me.”

the girl makes a sound of protest, kissing his face more, hand coming to his neck. 

“m’ready,” she whispers earnestly “wanna feel you so bad,” another kiss, “please, carm.”

he lets out a strained breath and removes his hand from her ass, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his erection. she moves her thigh higher up his hip, and carmen slips his fingers beneath the fabric covering her core, hastily pulling it to the side.

“yeah,” she exhales desperately, edge of her lips touching his, trying to watch him press his cock into her opening. 

carmen pushes forward, sinking into her tightness. he lets out a groan at the way her wet heat engulfs him. the girl releases a sound of appreciation, her nails indenting the skin of his shoulder. 

he takes a deep breath and begins slowly rocking his hips, turning his face to catch her lips in a hungry kiss. he greedily swallows her sweet noises, catching the edge of her shirt and bunching it up over her chest, exposing her breasts.

“please,” she breaks the kiss to plead, not really even knowing what she was asking for. 

“i know, baby” he groans in between kisses, “gonna take care of you.” rolling his hips, hiking her leg further up his hip to bury himself to the hilt. 

she wants to cry at how good it feels, eyes scrunched shut and mouth falling open in pleasure, releasing her first breathy moan. 

carmy swears he could cum at the sound of it, hand grabbing her ass again, pulling her impossibly closer. his forehead comes to hers and he begins slowly thrusting into her, completely drunk off of her. her smell, her wetness, her whimpers. 

“y’so fuckin’ cute,” he growls, “can’t get enough of you.” his admission sends a fluttering sensation throughout her chest, arching further into his touch, beginning to hungrily rock her hips to try and match his thrusts. 

the man grabs her hip, holding her still. 

“slow down,” he commands softly, catching her lips in a deep kiss, continuing to gently thrust into her. 

she complies, savoring the sweet, lazy rocking motion as he holds her tightly. it feels far more intimate than what she’s ever experienced with him, even though the two weren’t even fully naked. it was needy and frenetic, yet slow and gentle. 

carmen buries himself deeper, beginning to thrust up into her at an angle. he kisses her with frenzy, tongue swirling around hers, swallowing each and every noise she makes. the room grows incredibly hot, their skin sticky, each trying to apologize to the other using their bodies. 

carmy snaps his hips forward, and the girl releases from his lips with a loud cry. her nails dig into his shoulder. it’s so good she feels like crying again. 

“y’such a pretty fuckin’ girl,” he growls, “love how you feel, y’know that?” 

her droopy eyes meet his. she loves the way it sounds from his mouth. loves everything he does. 

“i’m all yours carm,” she gasps, savoring the deep, satiating feeling of his thick cock.

“yeah?” he asks breathily, “all mine?” grabbing her ass, pulling her in time with his thrusts. 

“y-yeah,” she cries, eyes tightly shut, “yours. i love-ah,” she’s interrupted by a punctuated thrust, losing her words, head falling back, breathing heavily. he feels so good.

“what d’you love?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss her exposed neck, “huh?” 

“love y-how you make me feel,” she cries. 

his chest flutters. he bites and kisses the skin of her neck. he wishes she would’ve said something different. 

“what else, hm?” a kiss, thrusts speeding up, “what else d’you love?” 

“love-fuck, right there,” she whimpers, “i love-ah,” trailing off as if she can’t even think straight. 

carmy smiles into her neck, giving her skin a final bruise before pulling away to catch her lips. 

“tell me,” he growls, grabbing the side of her thigh and continuing to upwards. 

her eyes fill with tears. she’s scared to say it. 

“i-,” an gasp, “i love you, carm.” she catches his gaze as she says it, and watches how his expression softens. how deeply he looks at her. the man dives into her lips again, kissing her with a ferocity she had yet to ever receive, groaning into her mouth. 

“fuckin’ made for me,” he growls in between kisses, “love everything about you,” pulling her leg further up, “perfect fuckin’ girl.”

he rolls over her and lifts her hips up, continuing to thrust into her. 

the girl wraps her legs around his back accommodatingly, dizzy from his words and the pleasure. she slips her fingers down to circle her swollen clit, feeling as if she teters right on the edge of climax, overcome with a white hot pleasure. 

“love you,” she cries, nails scratching down his back, “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou m’gonna cum” she babbles. he smiles down at her, almost overwhelmed by a feral need to claim her. 

the man deliberates throwing caution to the wind and cumming inside of her. he knows she wouldn’t mind. he rationalizes the logistics of making her a mom in his frenetic state, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks, her wet eyes, her open mouth. he decides he’s in love with her. decides he wants her to be his forever. he watches her cum. watches her eyes roll back and her body start shaking. listens to the sweet harmonic moans that spill from her lips. 

“there y’go,” he coaxes, “such a good girl,” kissing her swollen lips, “fuckin’ in love with you,” heightening the pace of his thrusts, feeling himself approach the brink of orgasm. he seriously considers cumming inside of her, telling himself he would if she asked. he looks at the girl for confirmation, but she’s too far gone. he begrudgingly pulls out, shooting thick ropes of cum onto her stomach with a groan, missing her warmth as soon as he leaves. 

carmy rolls off of her, grabbing her face and pressing a firm kiss onto her cheek, collapsing on the bed for a moment. he feels spent.

the girl pants, trying to catch her breath. carmen nuzzles into her neck, wrapping around her tightly, kissing her tenderly. they bask in the afterglow, cherishing the presence of each other, an encompassing silence following the heavy words exchanged.

she’s the first to speak. well, complain. 

“there’s….cum all over my stomach.” she rasps. he smiles into her neck. 

“shower?”

quiet, for a moment. 

“i can’t move.” 

he kisses her bruised skin with a lazy smirk and sits up to grab her a washcloth. 

-

when the girl wakes up alone the next morning, her heart drops a bit, finding the bed next to her empty once again. she shuts her eyes immediately, hoping to be swept away by sleep so she could postpone the disappointment. 

that is, until she hears noises from the kitchen downstairs. and smells the bacon. 

the girl groggily pushes herself up out of bed, stalking down the hallway. she gets halfway to the stairs before realizing she’s completely naked, stopping in her tracks, turning to carmy’s open door, eyes falling on a t-shirt on the ground. she quickly grabs it and slips it over her head, then continues to curiously make her way downstairs. soft music comes from the speaker in the kitchen, and she slowly descends the stairs to find carmy deftly working over the stove. the whole house smells incredible. 

she slips behind him to get to the coffee pot, sliding her hand along his back as she passes. 

the man turns his head.

“hey,”  he watches as she retrieves a mug from the cabinet, graciously taking in the sight of her wearing his shirt. 

“good morning,” she smiles, “smells so good in here.” 

as she stretches to get the mug, the hem of the shirt lifts ever so slightly over the curve of her ass. he clears his throat.

“nice shirt,” carmy says, turning back to tend to the bacon. 

she lets out a soft giggle, pouring her coffee. 

“yeah?” taking a sip and leaning against the counter, “figured it would be better than coming down naked.”

his brain stutters for a moment. he turns to catch the smirk on her face. 

“i, uh…. i dunno about that,” he responds, small smile on his face. she shoves his arm playfully and he breaks into a grin. 

“no work this morning?” she asks, grateful for the unusual saturday morning presence. 

“no, i, uh…m’taking a personal day,” he replies, turning the heat of the stove off, “had some stuff i needed to get done.”

“good,” she replies with a nod, “you deserve a day off. i didn’t take you for much of a breakfast guy, though” she comments, tilting her head slightly. 

“i’m not, really,” he plates the bacon over a paper towel, “but i, uh…thought some all american might help with your hangover.” 

she feels a pang in her chest, eyes glancing over the assortment of pancakes, eggs, hash browns, and bacon. everything she had told him last night. 

“carm,” she whines, “that is so kind. you didn’t have to all of this for me.”

the food looked delectable, plated beautifully and piping hot. 

“i wanted to.” he begins to pick up the plates. 

she puts her coffee down and helps him set the table.

when she takes the first bite of her bacon and eggs she practically moans at the taste. 

“fuck,” she locks eyes with him. 

“yeah?” he watches her with amusement.

“yeah,” she breathes, nodding, “that’s…wow.” 

he can’t help but grin, hand coming to rub over his face. 

“good?” 

“yeah.” she nods, “really fucking good.”

he feels his skin heat at the way she says it, having no idea why watching her enjoy his food was so deeply satisfying (and maybe just a little arousing).

“try the pancakes,” he tells her, pushing the syrup closer to her. she nods enthusiastically, slathering the pancakes the maple syrup and taking a big bite. 

the girl groans, and her head falls into her hand, savoring the taste. she doesn’t think she’s ever had pancakes so good. 

“i could kiss you right now,” she looks back up at him. he lets out a breath of amusement and his cheeks warm with her praise.

“i’m glad you like it.” 

“no, seriously, i’m…going to kiss you.” she tells him, putting a hand on the table and leaning over it. she grabs his shirt and pulls him in, kissing him firmly. 

the man lets out a soft groan of surprise, enthusiastically reciprocating. she tastes like maple syrup. 

when the girl pulls back, he grabs her face and pulls her back in, wanting another sweet taste. it’s better than any pancakes he’s ever made. 

carmen loosens his grip on her face and she slowly pulls away, pressing a last kiss to his lips before sitting back down. she gives him a mischievous smile and continues eating her breakfast.  

-

“go sit down,” she tells him, taking the pan from him, “you already cooked, let me clean up.”

“we can do it together,” he compromises, “it’ll be faster.”

she shakes her head, making a pile of dishes in the sink and turning on the hot water.  

“no. go sit down and relax,” she demands, beginning to scrub. 

she feels arms wrap around her waist, feels lips on her neck. 

“so bossy,” he chides in between kisses, pressing his hips against her backside. she lets out a slow breath, leaning into his touch. her eyes flutter as she feels his hand creep under her shirt, splaying over her stomach. she’s not wearing anything besides his oversized shirt, and her skin suddenly feels hot from his touch. she arches into him slightly, and he bites her neck.  

it feels very domestic, fighting over who would clean up the kitchen. it feels domestic wearing his shirt and being pressed up against the counter by him, skin littered with his bruises, lips intertwined with his name. 

carmy begins to lift the borrowed shirt up, kisses trailing up to her ear, hand coming to squeeze her breast. 

the girl releases a soft noise, completely distracted by her task of washing dishes. her head falls back against his shoulder, and she leans into his touch. 

carmen thinks of telling her to strip the shirt off. thinks of hoisting her up onto the counter and eating her out until she cums. touching her until she cries.

he pushes the shirt up further. 

knock knock knock 

they both startle and look to the front door. carmen checks the time, and his heart drops a bit. 

he pulls away from the girl and runs a hand through his curls.

“who is it?” she asks him, observing his look of stress. 

“it’s, uh….fuck. just wait right here, okay?” his hands fall from his hips and he stalks to the closet by the front door, pulling out a scarf she doesn’t recognize. 

he opens the door halfway, and she hears a familiar woman’s voice greeting him. 

her face gets hot. her chest feels tight. 

“claire,” he greets quietly, thrusting the scarf forward, “here.”

“ugh, thank you, carmy. i’m so forgetful sometimes.” 

“no problem. i should, uh-”

“it smells good in there,” claire comments, peaking in. 

carmen steps back, eyes darting over to his roommate. she stands with her arms crossed, leaning against the counter, staring at him.

“i’m uh…cooking breakfast,” he turns back to claire, “so i should probably get back to that. i’ll see yo-”

“-i was thinking we could talk?” she cuts him off, “can i come in?”

“i don’t know if that’s…,” carmen hesitates. he glances to his roommate to find her walking behind him towards the stairs.

claire’s eyes follow the girl, taking in her attire. carmy watches her expression slightly falter. 

his roommate stalks up the stairs. was walking behind him in plain sight a little petty? maybe. but she’s sick of carmy never saying exactly what he means. she undoes the hair tie holding together her messy updo, walking to her room. 

she quickly grabs a change of clothes and rushes into to the bathroom to shower, feeling the overwhelming need to leave the apartment. 

the front door slams shut, and she hears his steps ascend the stairs.

[angelicblondie]

high infidelity ೀ⋆⑅˚

luke x princess!reader

cw: cheating (totally not ok in real life pls dont cheat!), sexual content, a tad toxic (MDNI)

luke hated your boyfriend, and you hated luke.

so it was a pretty simple dynamic.

you and luke had never really gotten along. you werent sure why, at first, but it was the way things were - you hated luke, and luke hated you.

it didnt matter, anyways. luke was nice to everyone but you, so you couldn't even talk to anyone about it, because everyone loved him!

it was unfortunate, but it was reality - nothing could be done about your distaste for each other. it is what it is.

you could admit though, that it was highly unhelpful - your rivalry, that is. as being two of the oldest campers, you tended to be paired up quite often. whether it was co-taught classes, demonstrations, cabin duties - somehow, someway, you were always together.

luckily at this point, you two had matured (at least a little) since your arrival at camp half-blood. when the two of you were younger, it was hard to act professional. you would get in fights very often, needing an older camper or even chiron to break it up. it was too easy for the two of you to dissagree - you were just too different from eachother, you were never going to get along.

as you got older, you were able to learn how to bite you tongue, and pick your battles. even if he made a sly comment, or gave you mocking look, you tried your very best (most of the time) not to engage. he wanted a reaction, and you had learned not to give him one (once again, most of the time).

however, recently, its been harder.

a couple months ago, you started dating alex from demeter cabin. he was sweet, and caring, and easy to get along with.

but...also a bit boring.

you wouldnt mention it to anyone of course, not even your closest friends. you tried to convince yourself that boring wasnt bad, in fact, it was what you needed. boring was good for you!

how come it didnt feel like that though?

anyways, the point is, ever since you and alex started dating, luke has been flaring up the teasing again. making little comments, trying to embarrass alex whenever their in the same group of people - it was relentless.

it became harder and harder for you to not get mad at him. he knew just how to get under your skin, better than anyone. why was he bothering you so much? why couldn't you shake him? the hate for him and his stupid comments, and stupid pretty eyes festered deep in your chest, waiting to be released in the form of curses and harsh words you knew you couldn't take back.

you decided not to stoop to his level, though. you figured that was the best form of revenge - no reaction.

but, like stated - he was relentless.

it admittedly got out of hands this morning though, when you had overheard luke talking to his siblings at breakfast. you were simply minding your business, drinking your iced coffee and eating your breakfast as you unintentionally picked up on their conversation.

"...i mean, we all know she's gonna drop him in...what? a week?" you heard the smug, annoying voice of luke and the laugher from his siblings. you paused you actions, discreetly leaning on your elbow to listen closer.

luke laughed before continuing. "not even to be a dick, but that guys is so boring, gods. what does she even see in him?" hermes cabin was called up to the fire, and you seethed in your seat.

that was it. you had taken lukes snide comments and rude words for too long. you felt the anger you had been haboring rise into your throat, and before you know it, you grab your cup, and walked right up to him.

he turned too late, barely registering you were there as your threw your drink right in his face. gasps were heard around the pavilion as confused and speculated murmurs started to circulate.

his mouth was wide open in shock and his eyes were shut as the coffee driped down his face. your voice was stern as you spoke, your lips formed a pout, and your eyebrows were scrunched up. "next time, say it to my face, castellan."

chiron stood up, appalled, calling out both your names. "this is disgraceful! never would i think that two of the brightest and most gifted half-bloods in todays day and age would show such childish behavior!" he lectured, and you look down at the floor, suddenly embarrassed and ashamed. what were you thinking? "the two of you will spend the day cleaning the camp, and i will not hear a single complaint from either of you! understood?"

luke looked like he wanted to argue but he zipped his mouth shut, clenching his jaw tight as he look at you.

supprisingly, he didnt look like his usual mad. instead, he was...amused? he was almost impressed by your boldness - he didnt think you had it in you. but you had bottled it up for so long, it was bound to happen eventually.

you look away from him and up to chiron. you mouth was drawn in a line, and you nodded, almost robotically. "understood." you stated, voice firm. luke did the same and you both walked back to your tables, not giving the other another look. your siblings immidiately bombarded you with questions, so you briefly explain, not really wanting to talk much longer.

you sent an apologetic look to alex as you went to sit back down, and he gave you a strained smile, before looking away. you sigh softly and bite your lip, playing with your food before undeniable hell started - spending the whole day with luke.

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

after breakfast, you met luke at the stables, where you started your day of torture. the whole hour it was silent, the only time the two of you spoke was relating to the job.

you were mostly joking before, but truly, if someone had asked you what your personal hell was, this was about as close to it as it could get - cleaning up pegasus manure with only the company of luke castellan.

it totally wasnt fair. your hair kept falling out of your ponytail, pretty much all your polished nails were chipped, and you got shit on your sneakers. and of course, nothing of the sort happened to luke. the sweat on his head didnt look like sweat, it just made him shiny, and if possible, better. his eyes scrunching up in focus only made him look more attractive.

you shook the thought away, reasoning that it was totally ok for you to notice beauty, it was practically your job as a child of aphrodite! as long as you didn't dwell on it too much, you should be good.

but, of course, that wasn't the case.

it became a reoccurring theme to notice how effortless luke was at everything. cleaning the dining pavilion, he looked good. cleaning up after the archery class, he looked good. even sweeping the floor he looked hot! it was totally unfair, and all it did was make you angrier. since when was he allowed to be hot???

as it finally reached the later hours in the day, you two had made it to your last task - picking up trash out of the beach. you sighed, finally breaking the silence.

"ok, are we ever gonna talk, or no?"

luke looks up at you from picking an empty bottel from the sand and smiles mischeviously.

"'bout what?" he teases and you purse your lips.

"seriously?" you ask, hands on your hip and an angry pout. "you know what."

he takes a step closer, looking down at you with amusement. this was funny to him? "nah, princess, think y'need to tell me."

you clench your jaw and cross your arms. "your problem with me. look, im not a fan of you either, but at least im mature enough to try and act civil!" you exclaim.

luke chuckles, stepping away to continue to clean the beach. "yeah, civil. it was real civil when you threw you coffee all over me at breakfast." he quips, voice full of amused sarcasm.

you scoff. "yeah, it was only 'cause you were talking shit, though." you mumble. "sure, it wasnt the best idea, but at least it got the point across."

you move away as well, continuing the task, hoping it would be over soon. "tell me, princess. just outta' pure curiosity, how does your little boyfriend feel 'bout me?" he asks, his voice smug and condecending.

you purse your lips as you turn to me. "ok, seriously, whats your problem?" you drop the trash bag to the sand.

luke shrugs. "no problem, just think you could do better, s'all."

you blink, eyes furrowing in confusion. huh?

its silent for a few moments as you process his words. "you....what?"

luke chuckles, dropping his bag and walking a few steps closer to you. "i think you could do better than whats-his-name. i mean, everyone thinks your only using him for the rite of passage, because why else would you date a guy like that?"

your defensively cross you arms. "like what?"

luke scoffs, as if the answer is obvious. "boring."

you fold your lips inwards. got me there, you think to yourself, and he looks at you like he knows what your thinking.

your narrow your eyes. "hes not boring. and im not using him for the rite of passage. hes nice, he cute, and he doesnt make me want to rip my hair out - all things you cannot say about yourself. besides, its really none of your business."

luke holds up his hands in mock surrender, taking a step back. "woah, dont get all fiery on me, princess. just statin' my opinion, which you asked for," he defends, chuckling at your outburst. "y'know, somethings telling me that your only dating this guys 'cause hes the opposite of me."

your lips twist in a sickeningly sweet smile. "i mean, it certainly doesnt hurt."

luke bite his lip, holding back his amusement and stepping closer. "im startin' to think your obsessed w'me, princess." his voice was lower than before, and his eyes twinkled with michief and...something else?

you swallow, trying to maintain eye contact but the intensity was overwhelming. "i think its the other way around." you say, trying to sound strong, but your voice was quiet.

why all of the sudden was he having this effect on you? why were goosebump trailing up your skin, why was your head foggy, and why on earth did you want him to come closer? not only was it out of character, but it wasn't right! no matter how much you weren't into you boyfriend, you couldn't cheat on him, you knew that was wrong. but luke looked far too good right now, and you were feeling things you never felt before.

before you could come to a conclusion on your emotions, luke took a teasing step back, peeling off his shirt.

"i think im done cleaning," he states, tossing his shirt to the sand and unbuttoning his shorts. you turn to look away, fearing a blush would coat your cheeks at seeing his near-naked form.

you can hear the smirk in lukes voice as he talks, and you turn back to see him just in boxers, walking backwards towards the water.

"gonna take a dip, if you wanna join."

his words were enticing, and you still couldn't figure out why. despite yourself, you slowly peel of you clothes, curious as to where this was going. with a new found sense of confidence, you walk towards the water, locking eyes with luke, who was eyeing your body, and the thin, lacy garments covering you privates.

as you decent down into the water, you stand in front of him, water reaching the middle of your ribcage whilst it almost reaches lukes shoulders, since he's further below. if you were honest, it was quite a beautiful scene, the sun was setting below the horizon, the water was calm and still, and the occasional sound of the waves hitting the shore and crickets beginning to chirp was the only thing that could be heard.

you tilt your head, eyeing him curiously. "why do you hate me, castellan?" you ask, your voice devoid of any malice, just pure curiosity.

luke looked a little suprised by your question, and looked back at you with a bit of amusement. "i dont hate you, princess, thats a bit intense," he chuckles.

you scoff a bit. "well you obviously dont like me. so, what is it?"

you werent sure when it happened, but you and luke had waded out further, making the two of you level, only your shoulders up being visible.

it was silent for a moment as luke thought up his answer, and weirdly the void of conversation was comfortable. the sunset illuminated one side of his face, making him look oddly ethereal. you couldn't look away.

"i dont hate you, princess," he says finally, looking into your eyes with a serious expression (one of the few times you had ever seen one on him).

he doesnt hate you? then why is he always such a dick? you think about asking your plethora of questions, but decide against it, being unable to form any coherent words.

he looked really pretty. you couldn't stop noticing how pretty he was.

for once, your head was devoid of any rational thoughts - you weren't telling yourself how bad of an idea this way, how wrong it is - because it felt so right. and things rarely felt right for you.

you weren't sure who did it first, but somehow your lips met, and it felt like nothing else would ever be the same.

you had been kissed before, but gods, never like this. it was like every emotion you had ever made each other feel was being poured into yours lips, being felt again all at once. your hands were all over each other, trailing below and above surface to claw at the others skin. your lips danced so passionately, everything about it felt raw and exhilarating. and as much as you wished you could say they were, your thoughts weren't on alex, or the consequences of your actions - your head was foggy and consumed by him. by luke.

your tongues clashed every now and then, deepening the kiss and you tried every way to feel closer to him - grabbing his skin, pressing your front flush against his - you needed to feel him everywhere. he wasn't far off from your state, in fact, he was just as bad. he panted into your mouth, his rough, calloused hands from all that training gripping at the skin of your waist, your hips, your ass - anywhere he could find, his hands had been there. you had never felt so deliciously exposed before, and you had never expected to like it.

your legs were wrapped around his waist, and your hands were in his semi-wet hair, gripping and pulling, urging him closer, trying to take control of the kiss. no matter how hard you tried though, you couldn't - luke had full control, and you weren't sure you were mad about that.

you suddenly broke away, the both of you breathless and panting hard, not looking away from each others eyes. your eyes raked over his features, and he looked so perfectly ruined. his hair was a tangled mess , his pupils were engorged, his lips were red, and his cheeks were flushed. you were sure you looked the same, feeling the own heat in your cheeks and thunder in your heart, wondering if he could hear it as well. you couldn't stop thinking about how much you wanted to ruin him all day - do something to make him stop looking so perfect all the time. looking at him now, you decided that it didn't matter, that no matter what you did to rough him up, he would still look angelic.

your lips were still inches apart as you observed each other, catching your breaths. you look back up into his eyes, and let out the only words you could manage.

"take me somewhere else."

.·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·❤

as luke opened the door to an empty cabin one, he quickly pulled you in, caging you against the entrance as he slammed it shut. his lips were instantly back on yours, one hand resting above your head and the other on your bare waist. the kiss was just as soul draining as the other, but a bit more slow and sensual. this one wasn't as desperate - it was like you were exploring each other, trying to figure the other out. your hands trailed down his toned chest and his abs, snaking around to grab his waist to pull him closer. you could feel the water dripping down your skin and onto the floor, and as luke removed his lips to attach onto the skin of your neck, you felt droplets from his raven hair run down your back. you shivered, your senses heightened, feeling hyperaware of every small sounds luke made, of every touch his hands left behind, of every noise you could hear - you could feel it all. it was electric.

lukes left little love bites around you neck and chest, pecking them with a surprising softness after he sucked to hard, almost as if he was apologizing for his roughness. his lips started to trail down past your bra, and his knees began to lower to the floor, his head tilted up to look directly into your eyes. your breath hitched, watching in awe and a sense of impatience as you waited for him to make his next move

kneeled in front of you, lukes hands had slid down from you hips to your waist, his fingers teasingly slipping under the hem of your panties, each time causing you to release a shaky breath. his lips hovered over you clothed core, breathing directly onto your clit as you shivered, throwing you head back against the door.

"please," you ask, your so voice quiet, it was almost a whisper.

you look back down to see lukes response, and the intensity in his gaze made your breaths even more harbored than they already were.

"please?" luke repeated, his voice a low murmur, holding the smallest amount of teasing and mockery, pretending as if he didn't know what you were pleading for.

you nod eagerly. "please, luke. want it," you whine, your voice still quiet, almost as if you were a little ashamed at how easy you had given yourself to him.

luke let out a small, pleased smile. "well, since y'asked so nicely..." he remarks, as his finger loop under the sides of you panties and slide them down to your ankles.

you feel the cold air hit you at the wet bottoms were discarded, and you shivered, sliding them to the side. lukes eyes were no longer on yours, instead, they were on your pussy. it was shocking to see how hunger-filled his eyes were, looking like it took everything in him not to suck you dry, and curb his craving.

he looked back up at you, a small, teasing smile making its way onto his lips as he attached them onto your pussy. you let out a breathy gasp, throwing your head back as your hands instantaneously imbedded themselves into his hair. he threw one of your legs over his shoulder to get a deeper angle, and you could've sworn you saw stars. his lips sucked and licked your clit, inhaling up your juices whilst his fingers moved in and out of you hole, curling up into your sweet spot causing you to arch you back off the door and closer to his mouth. you had some idea that he was good (word got around easily at camp), but you had no idea he was this good, or that head could even be this good.

"luke," you whimpered, feeling yourself getting closer as you gripped his hair, pulling him off your pussy. "stop, s'too much." you voice, your tone needy and breathless.

he himself was breathless, panting hard with your juices dripping down his chin, his hair a tangled mess from your greedy fingers.

"want me t'stop?" he asks, his voice serious as a funeral.

you quickly shook your head. "n-no, no, just..." you bite your lip thinking up something, and your next solution was to pull him back in for a kiss, grabbing him by his shoulders. he seemed a bit surprised, but he certainly wasn't mad, cupping your cheeks as he returned the notion. you started to push him forward, leading him to the nearest bed and he got the memo, backing up against it until he sat down, you moving to straddle his waist.

you continued to kiss, everything about it feeling intoxicating. the feeling of your bare center against his clothed cock sent shockwaves into your core every time you moved against him. luke smirked against your lips, mumbling against them. "not too proud now, huh?" despite yourself, you smile, letting out a small laugh. "shut up," your murmur, pressing your self against him as he lowered his back against the mattress, you laying on top of him.

soon enough, his boxers and your bra were discarded, and luke had you on your back, one hand on your waist and another on his shaft, lining himself up against your entrance.

luckily, he keeps a condom in his pocket (bit of a red flag that he always had one on him, but you guessed it was better safe than sorry) and had slid it on, which you were grateful for. mainly because in your current state, you weren't sure if you would be able to say no if he didn't have one, and you'd let him fuck you raw, which would definitely be bad.

you look down, watching as his tip was right about to enter, and then you hear lukes voice, snapping you out of your trance.

"hey," his firm tone voices, "want you lookin' at me when i fuck you, understand?" he directs, and normally you wouldnt stand for being told what to do, especially by a man, but you were too desperate for him to fuck you, so you nodded eagerly, following his instructions.

when he finaly entered you, your eyes widen, lips opeening in pure euphoria. his own lips parted, leting out a small groan, and a string of curses. "fuck, your tight." he marvels, slowing moving further into you.

once his hips meet yours, he pulls all the way back out, and then back in, pulling a sharp moan out of you lips as your fingers grip the sheets below you.

he continues this process a few times, easing the both of you into adjusting to his sheer mass. eventually, luke begins to speed up, finding a steady and pleasurable pace for the both of you. your walls gripped his dick, and luke would swear he had never felt such pleasure. he could feel each clench, hear every crude squelch, and even still taste your wetness from before on his tongue. he never would've thought he'd be lucky enough to see you in this position, but he assumed he must've won the lottery today or been blessed by one of the gods, because in no world would you letting him do this would be reality.

luke grunted as he looked down to see your connection - your wetness on the silicone, the veins on his dick visible underneath, your pussy swallowing up his inches every time he pushed himself in - it was a sight to see.

he let out a breathy, disbelieving chuckle. "god, princess, what do you think your lil'boyfriend would have to say about this, huh?" he looks back to your face, to see your eyes scrunched up in pleasure and your lips dropped in awe, and it only spurred him on further.

"huh? bet he'd understand. even he knows hes not good enough for you," he chuckles darkly, quickening the pace of his thrust, the sound of your skin slapping together audible. "bet he could never make you feel this good, could he?"

you repeatedly shake your head, your words coming out all jumbled together. "no, never, only you, luke," you cry, moaning out as each thrust brings you closer to your high, your hands moving to scratch against his back, nails digging into his skin as pleasure overcomes you.

he didn't seem to mind the mild pain, in fact, it seemed to spur him on further. "s'that right, princess? only me?" you almost regretted your words, seeing how much it seemed to have grown his ego, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care all that much when he was making you feel so good.

you nod, whimpering as your cunt clenched around him, biting your lip to hold back any more sounds.

luke cursed under his breath, speeding up even more. "fuck, 'mclose, baby."

the use of the new nicknames brings you closer, more and more little whines leaving your lips. "same. please, luke."

"yeah? wanna cum all over my dick? gods, go ahead, babe, you can do it." he spurs you on, watching as your face twists with pleasure and your hips splutter, your eyes locked on his as your run over the edged.

you irises are glazed over with pleasure as you release around him, his hips continuing their assault as he chases his own high. your transfixed by the sight of him, not able to look away once he reaches his own high, releasing a low, guttural groan. he throws his head back as his movements slow, a lazy and satisfied smile taking over his features. you mimic his expression, quite pleased yourself with what just transpired.

"fuck me, princess" he lets out a breathy chuckle, pulling himself out of you as you giggle as well. he pulls of the condom and stands up, placing a surprisingly gentle kiss on your forehead.

you lay flat on the bed, eyes on the ceiling as your process what just happened. you just fucked luke, you worst enemy and...really enjoyed it, to say the least. and you also cheated on your boyfriend. you winced at the thought, deciding to deal with that factor later, and instead, try to figure how you now feel about luke. not surprisingly, your opinions on luke had changed drastically in the last hour. you had gotten to see a different side to him, one you hope you'd get to continue to see. but you were weirdly filled with insecurity, wondering if this was just a one and done for him. and then you were filled with even more confusion, wondering why that thought upset you.

your pulled from your spiraling when luke returns from the bathroom, a wet hand towel in his hands as he crawled onto the bed, wiping your fluids off your skin. the gentleness in which he approached it with was shocking, yet filled your stomach with a heavy fluttering. he tossed the rag to the side and looked up at you, a slight, mischievous smile on his face.

"that was fun, huh?"

[aphroditesmoon]

Okay but like…clarisse jealous?

I like a challenge when the prize is you

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

warnings: platonic luke x reader, kissing, title is from center by sir chloe.

wc: 2.0k

Today was your birthday, and though birthdays aren't exactly a big thing in camp half blood, considering there are probably more than 300 kids here, your cabin siblings decided to plan out a small party to celebrate it anyways.

You are easily one of the most highly respected demigod here. When you first arrived at camp, you held your ground and barely showed any fear nor awkwardness. You were friendly and charming but knew when to not take people's shit, that had earned you a favorable reputation and had gotten your godly parent to claim you after only being there for two weeks. 

People liked you. And because of the way you're perceived, they were all pretty surprised to find you in a secured relationship with the commonly known camp boogeyman.

You and Clarisse hit it off rather quickly. What started as a playful banter bloomed into a strongly bonded friendship, and then soon enough, became a romantic relationship. 

The two of you grounded eachother constantly, you compliment eachother personality wise, and you just have much more in common then people think. 

Equally as excited as your cabin siblings, Clarisse arrived right on time for your party in your cabin. The event was a private one, only your siblings and close friends are invited.

They had worked together baking a lovely raspberry cheese cake for you along with some brownies and chips. Despite it being your party, you were warned of stealing a taste of any of the food before the party begun.

You were immensely grateful when the clock finally hit 8pm and everyone invited finally arrived. "Can I cut the cake now?" You asked for the 5th time.

"Yes." Your siblings answered together, laughing at your excitement. Clarisse sat by your left, passing you the cake cutter. "Can you do it?" She mumbles as she watches you struggle to push it all the way down. 

You hummed positively and pressed on harder untik the knife finally reaches the bottom of the cake and everyone cheered. "There you go." You mutter to yourself.

Continuing to cut the rest of the cake, you soom began passing the pieces to everyone on paper plates before leaving the rest of it for yourself.

Clarisse was quick to scoop up a section of it with a spoon to wave it over your face. "Alright baby, you know how it goes, open up." Everyone else was laughing at the sentiment, but you weren't bothered by it at all, opening your mouth wide open for Clarisse to feed you like a mother does to her toddler. 

The party hat you were wearing really tied it all together. Nothing says festive more than a coney party hat with pink and yellow polka dots over them. 

"Oh this is amazing." You say with your mouth full, moaning at the taste. "Here, let me do it." You offered quickly,  taking the spoon from Clarisse to feed her the same way. 

If it was any other day, she'd rather die than get caught being babied like this, but it was your birthday, so automatically, you get a free pass. 

"Someone should take a photo." One of the girls called out, Clarisse' glare immediately shut her up. You laughed at her reaction, squeezing her cheek. "Oh no, you're grumpy again." She rolled her eyes and relaxed her face from all the frowning.

"I'm not grumpy, I just naturally look like this." She defends herself as she eats her portion of the cake. 

Music was playing on the back, a mix of Debussy and Tchaikovsky on shuffle as everyone knew how overwhelming loud party music made you feel.

It was all well and beautiful, everything went better than expected, and it's in these moments, surrounded by your loved ones and feeling your happiest, that you feel the luckiest in life. 

It was present sharing time when you heard your cabin door knocked on. You ignored it ar first, letting your sibling check on the visitor as you continue to open your presents. 

"Oh my god, it's a cat sweater!" You exclaimed at your sister's gift. She was only 10 with a passion for sewing and fashion, and she probably took days to make the sweater. You could see the slightly folded and unsymmetric edges, making it even more endearing. 

"You said it's your favourite animal." You nodded your head and bear hugged her. "It is, thank you for this." 

You were about to open your 4th present when your sibling that you had sent to check on the door came sprinting back. "Who is it?" You asked with a raised brow.

"It's, Luke." The name caused the noise around you to husb down. You could feel Clarisse stiffen next to you when you smiled. "Oh, is he joining us?" You doubt it, seeing as he wasn't exactly invited, and it was already so much people here.

"No, he said he wants to see you outside." 

You and Luke are as close as he is with anyone else. His face is usually what new campers are met with, being the leader of Hermes cabin and all, he's always taken the role of the mentor very naturally, never having a problem helping the new kids find where they belong.  

Clarisse unfortunately doesn't view your friendship with him as just that. You've seen the way she tries to size him up whenever he attempts to talk to you alone.

You stood up from your sitting position and ushered your friends and siblings to get back at the eating and dancing as you walk yourself out of the cabin to meet him.

Your hand slips away from Clarisse's. You give her a quick smile that meant 'don't worry about me', before you disappeared from her sight.

Just as you were informed, Luke is outside the door when you exit from it. He wears his easygoing grin when he sees you. You returned his smile and spoke his name.

"Hey." He greeted you. "Got the birthday girl a present." He shows you the small box he carried with him, wiggling his brows as he speaks.

"Oh, Luke, you shouldn't have." He shook his head at you nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it, just wanted to get you something." His presses the box into your hand and folded your fingers over it before taking a step back.

"Thank you, Luke." You tell him, meaning those words. He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Your welcome. Now, I'm sure you'd like to go back to your party. See you tomorrow?" You nod your head.

"Alright then, have a good night, happy birthday." You waved at him as he walks off towards his own cabin, waiting until he's a few steps away before going back in. 

You were glad that no one really noticed you until you were near to the group to sit down. Though Clarisse's eyes were on you as soon as you entered the cabin.

Some of them stopped eating as they moved to seat crisscrossed closer to you. "What did he want?" One of them asked. 

You lifted the box up for them to see. They responded with an 'oooh' as they wait for you to open it. "It's so small." Your younger sibling noted, hovering above the box. "Maybe it's a ring." The other suggested. You snorted and shook your head.

"And where would he find a ring around here, less alone to make one." You knew it wasn't a ring. Besides the fact that he didn't have your ring size, he wouldn't give you such a bold gift that could cause a misunderstanding and piss of Clarisse at the same time. 

You opened it gently and awed at it's inside. It was a brooch. One in the size of your thumb. A golden coloured hibiscus engraved brooch. "This is lovely." You noted, letting everyone else look at it.

"It's fine." Clarisse countered, her nose scrunching at the view.

As your younger sibling held it in her hand to properly look at it, you reach over to Clarisse, intertwining your fingers together again. "What about you? No gift for little ol' me?" You ask her jokingly.

"Of course I got you a gift," she scoffed, leaning in to your side. "But I'm not gonna give it here. These chatterboxes can't be trusted."

"These chatterboxes are my siblings." She shrugged at your words. "Never said you weren't a chatterbox either." You gasped loudly, faking offense and lightly slapping her arm. Her grouch falls away, her pursed lips curved into a small smile. 

The rest of the party went well, you managed to get everyone to finish the food so there wouldn't be any leftovers. And despite the argument your cabin presented, you helped them cleanuo the mess and threw away the trash before ot was time to turn off the lights.

You made sure all your younger siblings have been tucked in and all your older ones are done with the chores before you and Clarisse leave the cabin past 11pm.

Some of the girls sent you teasing looks before you left,  but they all swore to secrecy and made sure to cover for you just incase Chiron or Mr.D heard of your little past curfew late night walks.

Once the two of you made it further into the woods, Clarisse pulls you by the arm to sit down next to her on the less harsher part of the grass. You immediately moved to wrap your arm around her neck, resting your head underneath her chin, she wraps her own arms around you and placed a chaste kiss on your hair. 

"Happy birthday." She whispers against your forehead. 

You looked up at her from your position and eyes her suspiciously. "I thought you said you had a present for me?"

A short laugh escapes her as she ruffles your hair. "My presence is not a gift enough for you?" You blinked and answered; "No." 

Clarisse laughs again and uses her right hand to pull something out of the inside pocket of her jacket. "Well, at least you're honest." She did not have a box or a wrapper like the others did. But your heart melted at the sight of the present still.

It was a string of pearls. A necklace. And you could tell from the shine and the ivory colour of it that they weren't fake pearls. They attracted you like a moth to a flame.

"Clarisse, this is beautiful." You told her, she passes it onto your hands and watch as you eye them closely. "I know. Better than the stupid pin." You brows raise at that, your gaze darts from the necklace to her face. 

"Careful Clar, some might say you sound a bit jealous." She huffs and winces at that. "I'm not jealous- I- I just...don't like him." 

"And why don't you like him?" You question her. "Because he keeps hitting on my girlfriend." She answers in a matter of factly tone. "Being nice doesn't equal flirting." You tell her.

"I know that. Does he know that?" 

Clarisse has never liked the way Luke talked to you, and sometimes you genuinely wonder if she was right and if it was you who never noticed any of his romantic advances. But your principle has always been straight to the point, if he doesn't say it outright, then it's not real.

"Well, he hasn't crossed a line so far, so I'd say yes." It wasn't that you're trying to defend Luke, you just don't see what he's done so far that deserves defending at all. 

Clarisse grunted in response and pulls you back into her arms. You refrain from holding her by placing your palms on her chest. "Wait, put it on me first." 

Something clicks behind her eyes like she just remembered about her gift. "Oh, right." You turn around with your back facing her. Clarisse places the pearls over your neck and hooks the back together in one try.

Twisting your body to face her again, you fiddled with the necklace and looked at her for approval. "Well?" She smiled as her fingers came close to your face to brush away the strands of hair covering your cheek. "It fits you." 

You let her pull you by the back of your head to kiss her, welcoming her lips with yours. 

Not that you'd ever admit it aloud, but having her by your side would always be the real birthday gift to you.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Elite Serial Killer (2)

Part 1

Like frightened deer you scatter

In your opinion, you get pretty far

At one point climbing up high to see where the lights of the small town were

You were making great time 

“(Y/n)! Down here!”

The sun was rising and while you were hesitant you did go to meet ‘Piggie’

She seems high-spirited for such a horrible situation

But she shares the berries she’s found that weren’t poisonous

And clues you in on some helpful camping knowledge

So you’re none the wiser when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head 

 Waking bleary-eyed to the tight hold of a bloody rope around you 

The sun has long since set and all you can gather is that you're tied to a tree 

You hesitate to call for the girl only for somebody’s nails to dig into your scalp

It's her and she looks deranged covered in dirt and blood (it doesn’t look like it's hers)

Being sure to throw rocks and kick at you for emphasis she explains how she already knows the major twist of this hunt

They own the town 

No help would have been given if you had arrived there

Or even to the airport 

So she says she’s going to stand her ground to entrap them the second they come for the bait

And the bait just so happens to be you

When you ask her why it’s because she hates your pity

“At least when they kick me in the dirt they have the decency to know I belong there!”

She sounds demented 

But determined

So much so you’re sure if this was a movie she’d be the 'final girl'

But you’re here so that’s not happening

Hearing sticks snap and bushes shake you’re sure they’re on the way

So you shut your eyes in fear

Saying your final prayers as you feel the heat of another person stalking up to you

“How disappointing I expected you to get farther.”

It sounds like something he’d say before lobbing off your head

So you prepare for the oncoming blow 

Only to hear a shotgun fire off 

‘Piggie’ screams

So you look up to see Wille grinning madly in that direction before turning back to you 

He holds your face gently but firmly

Turning your head as he examines you 

“She really did a number on you.” 

He sighs snapping his fingers 

An unknown masked person cuts through the ropes 

Holding you on their back and securing the back of your knees

“Take them back to my room and patch them up I’ll gladly delight in my prize once I’ve finished.”

Wille takes off in a giddy sprint as he watches another masked servant drive off in a quad bike with you on the back

Now that the only real stake in this hunt is out he can really let loose

He’s been doing this for a long while

Enticing the masses at whatever new college or preparatory school he could 

Providing a plentiful harvest for his family 

And it’s great for a while but unfortunately, he just hasn’t found what’s missing 

His mother and father have each other and their pets respectively

His brother does as well

And then his sister…well she enjoys just hunting

But he was never like her

He took care of his appearance more, grew his hair long, and wasn’t pretending to be an apathetic prick

Though he could see how easy it was to become that way

He hates how forward people are when they want something from him or his family

He does admire the tenacity of the poor

But among the fellow rich? 

Absolutely unforgivable

He can only imagine the terrified faces he stalks being that of those hated elites

And of course, in the midst of a mission to harvest is when he becomes aware of you

It’s not really any one thing you do 

You just happen to exist close enough to his latest harvest grounds

It’s not your college but something of a rival school

And all it takes is one mutual and he’s whipped

Suddenly he’s decided that you're the perfect one for him

The prize  that’s greater than anything he could buy

To be Continued

[irisintheafterglow]

thoughts are thonkin' about summer camp counselor!gojo

"hmm, let's go with truth."

"do you like any of the other counselors?" ooohhhh. the children in the circle around you lean forward in anticipation. you can practically see the excitement in their eyes and you coyly dodge the question, well aware their reactions would be less than satisfied.

"oh, yeah! i like all the counselors!" you chirp happily and the kids groan, protesting 'not like that!' or 'you know what we mean!' you ignore them and push on, continuing, "shoko's basically my best friend, and i actually met her through this camp a long time ago; geto always lets me borrow his hairties; nanami...i guess i appreciate him for trying his best and coming back year after year." a few of the older campers from the cabin nanami always took charge of (because "they were more mature," in his eyes) snicker at your commentary on their favorite grumpy counselor, but one little girl in a purple tie-dyed shirt persists. you recognize her as one of geto's immediately; he always called dibs on playing 'mother' for the littlest ones in camp.

"what about counselor gojo?" her eyes are big and curious, still intrigued by your answers even when the rest of the group has moved on.

"remember, you can only ask one question per turn," nanami announces blandly from across the circle, though you do notice that the edge to his voice is gentler than usual. as much as he complains about the energy of the younger campers, he always seemed to be softer with them; though, you've never commented on it for fear of him becoming self-aware.

"he's right. that's two questions, my friend," you reply kindly, quickly moving the hot seat to the next camper, one of shoko's wearing a brown camp shirt. "alright, looks like it's your turn. truth or dare?"

"i hope you rascals are behaving. it's laps around the tennis courts if you're not." the front door to the main house opens and shuts, shoko entering with a train of middle schoolers at her heels. they'd embarked into the summer night to retrieve a camper's water bottle that was left at the edge of the lake. now that she's returned, her group eagerly makes room for her and the rest of their cabin until the circle nearly covers the entire living room. "they have behaved, right?"

"of course," you confirm. "they've been nothing but angels since you left." shoko hums and raises her eyebrows once, unamused. "what, you don't believe me?"

"nah, just that gojo's kids must not be here yet." you fight down the smirk that wants to appear on your face when, at the exact moment shoko comments on their absence, the loudest and rowdiest cabin arrives at the house. "speak of the devil-"

"i literally just got relaxed," mumbles suguru while he sits down with a disposable cup of warm tea from the kitchen. his girls lean over to see what he's drinking, asking if they can try some too. "later, later. let's all make room for counselor gojo's cabin, my friends."

"oi, wipe the dirt from your shoes or i throw you in the lake!" his cabin drawls out a half-hearted response, stamping on the welcome mat before filing into the living room. gojo's voice was still outside on the front porch. over the years, you learned he always took up the rear when his cabin was on the move, letting the most energetic of the bunch lead from the front and herding any stragglers at the back. according to your girls, he was the notorious 'hot camp counselor' that all the cabins fawned over. they called him charming, blushing over how carefree he was and how handsome he was when he smiled. you tried not to feed into any rumors about you and gojo having a thing for each other...

but he made it pretty difficult when he shimmied into the seat next to you and stared at you like there weren't several dozen children watching your every move.

"hi. you come here often?" he greets with a blinding smile before turning to the rest of the group. "so, what are we playing?" he sits with his legs crossed and one arm propped up behind you, the arm closest to you so that it occasionally brushes your shoulder. you shoot him a look of warning and he winks at you, going back to camp counselor mode in a split second. "this looks like a great truth or dare circle."

"it was, but there might be too many friends to play that game now. plus, we were only playing it to kill time," suguru says. the current number of campers made it hard to entertain everyone with a simple game like truth or dare, so it was up to the counselors to figure out a different game.

"i think kamo and todo's groups are still at the pool," shoko reminds everyone. "nanami and i can take a group over if you wanna go." a camper from nanami's cabin raises his hand.

"but aren't we still waiting for counselor haibara?" nanami shakes his head, the keys attached to his yellow leopard print lanyard jangling around his neck.

"counselor haibara's cabin is on dishes duty tonight. they're probably gonna go straight to bed when they're done."

"which will be soon for all of you, especially you little ones," you point out, glancing at the girls falling asleep on either side of suguru. all of the conscious campers grumble and you smile. they had so much fun every day of camp that they never wanted to go to sleep. "c'mon, you have to sleep if you still wanna do s'mores at the bonfire tomorrow." this raises their spirits a little bit and they come to the consensus that they need to play one more game before they go to sleep.

"alright kids, whatcha wanna play?" satoru folds his sunglasses and sticks them on the collar of his camp shirt. you ignore the way his bicep flexes under the rainbow tie-dyed fabric, willing the heat in your cheeks to dissipate. "there's heads up seven up, mafia, assassin-"

"can you tell us one of your stories, counselor gojo?"

"yeah, tell us a story from when you guys were campers." you can hear the gears turning in satoru's head and you lay a hand on his shoulder before he can launch into his tale.

"hold on, just so we're clear: you get a story instead of a game, is that okay with everyone? if we're not done by," you glance at the clock, "9:30, we'll save the rest of the story for tomorrow night, good?" the entire group nods their agreement, aside from the littlest ones who were dozing in suguru's arms. the kids get comfortable, leaning on each other and wrapping sweaters around their bodies like blankets. "take it away, then," you say to satoru.

"cool! i think i'm gonna tell you all about how i confessed to my camp crush," he states and you catch every other counselor in the room roll their eyes. somewhere across camp, a shiver probably ran up haibara's spine. evidently, satoru notices too, as he points at the rest of the counselors accusingly and says, "hey, just because you've heard this before doesn't mean i don't get to tell it again!"

"we didn't just hear it before, gojo," shoko says, rolling her eyes. "we were literally there." their beloved counselors becoming like characters in a fairy tale entice the kids even more to listen.

"so, a long, long time ago-"

"like when the dinosaurs were alive?"

"hey, i'm not that old," he frowns and the kids break into giggles. "anyways, a really long time ago, i had the biggest crush on another camper. the first time i saw them was at the lake. i was so shocked by them that i fell off my paddleboard."

"no way!"

"aww, that's so cute!"

"it's true," comments suguru after a sip from his tea. "i was in a kayak right next to him and he was so distracted, he ran into a rock and flew forward." more laughter echoes around the room and you even see nanami trying to hide a small smile.

"so, how'd you start talking to them?" you ask with a sparkle in your eyes.

"that's the thing," satoru continues, waving his arms around in dramatic gestures for emphasis. "for a while, i didn't even talk to them. i was so nervous and they were so pretty, like they were totally out of my league!"

"i don't think anyone's out of your league, counselor gojo," swoons one of the little ones from suguru's cabin. "i bet that person had a crush on you too, but you didn't know it!"

"that's very nice of you to say," satoru replies, briefly meeting suguru's eyes. suguru shrugs over the lid of his cup, his face an expression along the lines of 'i didn't teach them to be that friendly to you.'

"when did you actually start talking to them, counselor gojo?"

"yeah, and what did you talk about?"

"did you kiss them-"

"or did they kiss you first?"

"ew, kissing! gross!" the group teeters on the edge of falling into chaos, but it's exactly where satoru thrives.

"wait, wait, wait. too many questions, friends." all attention in the room snaps back to him. "and for the record, i did not kiss them the first time i talked to them," satoru reiterates with a nervous chuckle.

"then what did you talk about?"

"the easiest thing to talk about when you're here at camp," he replies. "i asked them if they wanted to see the stars with me." the lightbulbs blink to life in each camper's head and they grin in understanding. the area's constellations and views of space were always a fan-favorite, no matter the year. it was the one event every single camper and counselor looked forward to, and each person had a designated 'space buddy' to look at the stars with (and to also ensure no one wandered off in the dark woods alone). "i asked if they wanted to be my space buddy and, thankfully, they said yes."

"who was usually your space buddy, counselor gojo?" suguru wordlessly raises his hand on the other side of the circle. "wait, then who was counselor geto's space buddy?"

"it's how we became friends, actually," answers shoko. "counselor gojo stole my usual space buddy, so i had to partner with someone else."

"aww, that's so cute! wait..." the dots start to connect in the campers' minds and you stiffen, praying they didn't see the connection between the earlier truth-or-dare question and shoko's explanation. one of the older kids narrows his eyes at you, flicking between you and satoru with great suspicion.

"didn't you say earlier that shoko was your-" one of the littles can't hold their question and interjects before the big kid can finish their sudden inquiry.

"counselor shoko, who was your usual space buddy?"

"oh, it was always my best friend," she says without hesitation, looking over at you innocently. "and, if you didn't already know, my best friend is-"

"it's 9:30, big kids pack it up," nanami cuts in and you exhale, wiping your clammy palms on your shorts. a glance at satoru reveals him as suave as ever, but you do notice the single bead of sweat running down the side of his temple. "don't complain. you're already out later than i usually let you."

"that goes for you too, my littles," suguru says, ushering the sleepy children out the door after the bigs. "night, guys," he waves before stepping outside.

"we should probably get going, too. we'll tell the rest of this story tomorrow." as shoko's cabin leaves, satoru catches your eye.

"you wanna head out first or should we?"

"we can head out together, no? our cabins are right next to each other." the tiniest smirk appears on satoru's face.

"sounds good, you lead the way."

as both your group and satoru's walk out of the main house, you linger behind and let your kids navigate back to the cabin. when you're sure none of the kids are watching, you casually brush your hand against satoru's. he reacts immediately, lacing his fingers in yours and giving your hand a squeeze.

"hi, boyfriend," you say low enough that only he can hear.

"two more days," he mutters mostly to himself. "two more days and then i have you back to myself."

"c'mon, shouldn't we give back to the camp that brought us together in the first place?" you keep your voice as quiet as possible to not draw attention from the kids, your conversation blending with the sounds of the swaying forest and calling birds. "it's good karma, don't you think?"

"sure. doesn't mean i don't get mad when i can't love on you." you can hear satoru pouting even when you can't completely see his face. "are we ever gonna tell them about us? it's been a few years; most of the little ones we knew first are with nanami now."

"maybe we can tell them tomorrow. give them a little brain exercise trying to figure out who was your space buddy on that fateful night," you tease. he bumps his shoulder against yours, daring to sneak a kiss on your cheek. "satoru-"

"i know, i know. i just need reassurance that you're still mine, sometimes." the light of the cabins come into view and you reluctantly pull away from satoru. "ouch," he winces like he has a rock in his shoe. "i don't like that at all."

"what, me not holding your hand anymore?"

"mhmm, so don't be surprised if i tell the campers tomorrow," he says with an air of finality. "i'll take the teasing and the pestering as long as you're okay with it. i just can't take not being able to kiss you."

"of course i'm fine with it," you nod, finally catching up to your groups. you give them the signal to go inside and get ready for bed, stalling outside with satoru until you run out of time. "i'll see you in the morning, counselor gojo." he makes a gagging face that forces you to cover up a snort with a fake cough.

"if that sleeping bag isn't warm enough, you know where to find me," he says with a smirk as you begin to walk away. his body moves before his mind knows it, catching you by the wrist before you're too far. "hey. i love you." his gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips. he was so desperately trying not to kiss you.

"i love you too," you murmur, seeing more sparkle in his eyes than in all of the campground. "sweet dreams, my love."

"sweet dreams, space buddy."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[realcube]

SUMMER HEAT pt2

summer sex with hq men

characters ☀ suna, daichi, bokuto & nishinoya

tws/tags ☀ handjobs // vaginal, size kink // semi public, fingering, breeding // oral (receiving)

SUNA RINTARŌ liked to laze outside in the hammock with you, sheltered from the blistering sun by the shade of the trees. one arm wrapped around your shoulder, and the other resting of your waist as you nuzzled against him. it was calm for a while, until you positioned yourself in such a way that your tits were pressed right against his chest. soon enough, you could feel his length stiffening and prodding against your thigh. suna chose against aknowledging it, but when you looked up at him with a devilish smile, you could see a gentle pink dusting over his features. "want some help?" you offer kindly, as you slip your hand beneath his shorts and stroke his cock. eyes closed, he nods, "would you, baby?" his question is answered as he feels your delicate hands wrap around his length and start pumping, eliciting hushed moans from your boyfriend, you could feel his biceps tense around you as he pulled you even closer towards him. "fuck, (y/n). you're so perfect."

DAICHI SAWAMURA goes on a camping trip every summer with his friends, but this year they are all busy with their own affairs so he convinces you to come with him instead. though camping with you is a little different than with his friends. your hands are pinned above your head by daichi, against the floor of the tent while his massive cock drills into your hole. your nipples perk at the cold night air, tempting him to take one in his mouth and suck. you arch your back and let out a shriek-like moan at how his girth rips you open, and he chuckles, while keeping his vigorous rhythm, "might want to be quiet, doll." he captures your lips in his own, keeping you in a ferocious kiss before suddenly pulling away, "you don't want to wake the bears." you whimper at the suggestion, remaining quiet for a couple of moments before you continue to scream at how your strained walls have to contort to accommodate his size. you figured nothing the bears could do to you would hurt more than daichi.

BOKUTO KŌTARŌ was very excited to visit the water park with you. but after he saw you in your swim suit, he spent the majority of his time in the park praying for your bikini top to get caught in the slide. and after going down together, with you on his lap, he has to drag you away to the changing rooms so he can relieve himself before he gets back in the pool. he has your wet body bent over against the door of the stall, thick fingers stimulating your aching clit while his cock rams into you, over and over again. with his other hand grabbing your ass, watching your shiny body bounce with each thrust, it doesn't take long before he's ready to burst inside you. his eyes are tightly shut and he grits his teeth together to avoid moaning your name in the public changing rooms, this is about the quietest he's ever been. he pants heavily in lieu of moans, taking deep, laboured breaths that guide him through his climax, as your tight hole wrings him dry and he spills into you. as much as he enjoys the feeling of your snug cunt, eventually he pulls out, but he shoves his fingers in immediately in place of his cock, causing you to yelp. "sorry, babe," he whispers, "can't have you leaking into the water though." you exhale out your nose, "i think i'm done with pools for today, actually."

NISHINOYA YŪ picked up fishing during his travels, and was eager to share his new-found hobby with you. so on a nice, warm day, he decided to rent a boat and take you out into the middle of a lake so you could join him. however, he should've known that the two of you plus a secluded area could only lead to one thing. the boat rocks and you hear the slushing of water with each fierce thrust. your wanton moans echo across the lake, in the stark contrast to the previous tranquility. "shh." he smirks, placing a finger over your lips, "you'll scare the fish away." you bite your lip in attempt to suppress your moans, but he only tosses his head back and increases the pace. "so fuckin' sexy." he grunts, pulling out, only so he can drop onto his chest and push his face between your legs, tongue lapping up your juices, desperate for your taste.