#that’s the one who’s boyfriend is coming back next camp | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepyangelkami · 8 months ago

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CLOSE CALL b.blake

☆ WORD COUNT - 4.1K

BELLAMY BLAKE X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - based on the episode, 'the calm', season one, episode eleven. during the hunt for food with clarke and finn, you find yourself faced with death, lincoln saves you before it's too late but it's bellamy who finds you running for your life in the woods.

☆ WARNINGS - shy!reader, brief mention of insomnia, blood, gore, fire, grounders, saviour!lincoln, death threat, weapons, violence, assault, panic attack, anxiety, sexism, (3) uses of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

bellamy loved sharing a tent with you. he loved being able to brush the hair from your face as you slept soundly while he stared at the tent ceiling, wishing sleep would come over him. he loved waking up to you giggling, pushing him to get up as he slept half the day away.

but it was mornings like this, when he was met with the sight of you leaving that he groaned to himself, hands on his eyes. "where are you going, sweetheart?" pasting his softest tone.

you shimmied the wide-legged jeans up your legs, grinning as you swiped his jacket, not your own. "'m gonna go see octavia." she was currently in the smokehouse, cooking. it was some punishment for something devious she'd done with her grounder boyfriend, 'lincoln'.

"princess." his tone was a warning. "she's in the meat tent for a reason, it's not punishment if her best friend goes and visits her."

you weren't too sure why she was being punished, you weren't sure about a lot of things around here. all you knew was that the group weren't too fond of lincoln seeing as he was a grounder but he saved octavia's life once and had done nothing but be kind to her since. that was enough to get him in your good books.

"okay, then i'll be really mean to her." slipping on your shoes and sticking them out to him.

he rolled his eyes, sighing before sitting upwards. he bent down to tie the laces of your shoes, knowing that he should be up by now already. "no you won't."

you ignored him anyway, smiling as you seated yourself on his lap. he wore his black jeans, that you swore up and down about when he wore to sleep and was currently topless.

"i'll be back to you before lunch." pressing a chaste kiss to your lovers cheek, smiling softly.

you left the tent with a pep in your step, hearing bellamy yell the words, "and tell my sister to stop stealing my girlfriend!" but you only grinned, walking quicker.

everyone was out now, bellamy seemed to be the last awake. you smiled at clarke on your way, deeming her a good friend by now and opening the curtain to the meat tent.

"hi, o." octavia whipped around, grinning at you.

"finally." she scoffed. "next time you see my brother, tell him to stop hogging my best friend."

a smile forced its way on your lips at the mere thought. octavia and bellamy were so alike yet they'd never know, both too stubborn to ever admit it. your eyes trailed to the other person in the meat tent. it was john murphy, infamous around the camp right about now. "oh, hi murphy." a friendly smile gracing your lips. he helped you and many others out when you got sick, it was only fair to return the kindness.

"hey, y/n." though he didn't miss the way octavia nudged your side causing you to frown at her. it was safe to say that they weren't the biggest fans of each other right about now.

your eyes trailed across your best friend, seeing her face glisten. "do you want me to take your jacket? you're sweating."

"good idea, thanks." before the girl could shimmy the jacket off and pile it in your hands, the sound of someone else's voice filled the tent, not murphy's either.

"let's get this party smokin'!" del was a member of bellamy's posse, the one you weren't so fond of, tossing firewood into the fire causing you to frown.

octavia must have shared the same expression. "you don't want the fire too big so maybe just try to knock it down with some wet leaves." you were too embarrassed to open your mouth, inching your way closer to octavia. you never found yourself one to speak freely in front of others.

"you get that from your boyfriend?" the boy retaliated. "grounder-pounder."

but as shy as you may have been, your face suddenly contorted to a deeper frown. you looked at octavia who merely kept quiet, turning and fixing the hanging meat. luckily, murphy spoke instead. "she's right. a hot fire isn't gonna preserve the meat as well."

"can't take the heat? get out of the smokehouse." he looked between the two, knowing better than to throw around looks to you. "you should be kissing our asses for being back allowed in this camp."

"leave them alone." your shaky voice still managed to speak, you followed the boy despite octavia grasping your arm. "i'll tell bellamy."

the boy suddenly froze in his tracks. he turned to look at you, biting his lip with a scoff before turning back around, leaving.

you sighed awkwardly, wishing the entire encounter hadn't happened but as soon as you turned around, you felt smoke engulf you. del should have listened when octavia told him to lay it off with the leaves. you found arms engulfing you, octavia's familiar scent filling your nose. she all but dragged you out of the smokehouse.

the tent went up in flames faster than you could blink.

octavia passed you off to bellamy while a cough ripped at your throat. bellamy questioned his sister's wellbeing, she stated that she was fine, dragging a hand across her forehead. "you okay? are you hurt?"

you shook your head, coughing while bellamy wrapped a hand on the back of your head.

"this is all your fault." murphy stood, his hands outstretching as he pushed del backwards. "we told you it was too much wood!"

bellamy only let go of you once del and murphy began throwing swings at one another, as if it would change a thing. he split the two up, yelling at everyone to stop.

silence engulfed the group. you were next to octavia, a gentle hand rubbing on her back, her face covered in smoke. "bell, now what the hell are we gonna do?" she yelled causing everyone to turn. "that was all our food!"

the food was burned to a crisp. even when people managed to stop the fire, the food was already destroyed. clarke and bellamy looked over possibilities but they only had enough nuts and water to last them a week, two if they were lucky. clarke suggested they hunt.

it wasn't everyday that you were left outside the gates. "can i come?" you excitedly tittered, despite the appauled look on bellamy's face.

"i can take care of her." clarke spoke before he even got the chance to refuse. multiple times, you'd left the gates with clarke, talking on about things that she hadn't a notion about, chiming in with a hum every few seconds.

but she always took care of you, bellamy couldn't dispute with that. "with the entire grounder army out there?"

you slumped but clarke only raised her eyebrows. "and how do you expect her to defend herself if she's starving?"

he knew she was right, as much as he would have prefered to believe she wasn't.

he lined people up, splitting them into groups and handing out guns but keeping it so that one person per group had a gun, the last thing they needed was to run out of bullets right before the grounders hit them. truth was, bellamy didn't know if you were safer out there than you were in here.

you were paired with clarke, finn and a boy called myles.

"don't stay after dark, you hear me?" bellamy was zipping the zipper of his jacket around you but it was clarke who he handed the gun to. "you see grounders, you run back, i don't care who you leave behind."

"i'll be fine." you stretched out the last syllable, placing your hands on the man's shoulders as he was currently crouched in front of you. "y'worry too much."

"i have to worry." he assured. "you don't worry enough." he pressed a kiss to your head as you grinned, then leaning in and pressing one against your smile. "i love you."

"i love you too." you couldn't help but giggle, turning on your heel. "see you soon!"

bellamy watched with a twisting gut, feeling helpless but anxious all at once. he would have gone with you, watching your every move but being the leader of the camp made that incredibly hard for him. he sometimes wished he wasn't in charge, maybe then you could be his only priority. but if he didn't, who would?

"you know, i don't think you're actually allowed to say that." myles was a sweet kid, you supposed but he had some pretty out there views. the forest was quiet, too quiet while finn and clarke trailed above you.

you supposed hanging back with myles couldn't be worse than whatever conversation they were having. "why not? is it so bad to want a traditional marriage?"

"not at all." you answered swiftly. "but it's supposed to be a choice." by now, finn had already caught two squirrels. "the woman should be able to decide if that's what she wants and if you want that, then be with a woman who does too. you can't just force someone into being someone they're not."

"well, we wouldn't have this problem if women just stuck to what they were good at." the comment made you frown.

"myles, can you just be quiet for a second?" the words came from clark who shared the same look of distaste on her own face. you watched as she and finn studied the tracks on the ground, apparently belonging to a boar. "what is it?"

you followed where they sat, kneeling down beside finn to see what was wrong while myles hovered over you all. "these tracks..."

once you got a closer look, you could see how close together they were, how stuck in the mud they truly seemed. "they're perfect."

"too perfect." finn added, his eyes casting upwards. "we're the ones being hunted." someone had planted the boar tracks.

instantly, a shiver ran up your spine while myles stood up, pointing his gun as he glanced around the woods. "i don't see anything." as if on command, there was a swooping sound and suddenly, the arrow landed in his leg, the next in his shoulder.

you could have screamed, instead you gasped out the boy's name, looking to clarke for help. your hands instantly sat on the wound, covering it so blood didn't leak out, clarke sat at the other side, doing the same to his shoulder. "guys, come on, we gotta leave him." finn was adamant, rushing the girls forward.

"we can't just―" you didn't get to finish your sentence for something hard hit you over the head and suddenly you were laying flat on the ground, dizziness swirling your vision. you could vaguely make out a grounder coming from behind finn and doing the same, you didn't see what they did to clarke.

then everything became nothing at all.

it turned black.

𝜗𝜚

when you woke, you were being forced onto the ground. your hands were bound in front of you and your knees smashed against the cold gravel, you could feel the flesh break apart, little cuts littering against your skin. finn and clarke were in the same position, sharing glances of worry.

your brows were knit together as your eyes scanned where you were, some kind of cave though it also appeared to be a room. your first thought was bellamy, how worried the boy seemed when you left, you could only imagine the worry when you didn't return. you'd imagine by the lighting that it was well after sunset.

"we walked for about three miles." finn began to whisper. it appeared as though he and clarke hadn't been hit as hard as you had. "after crossing that creek, another two or so before we got to the road."

"i don't think it matters, finn." clarke's voice had a sense of desperation in it. "they didn't blindfold us which means they don't care what we saw. they're gonna kill us."

a cold feeling settled in the base of your stomach, bile rising to your throat. bellamy was right, it wasn't safe out here and you just had to go and get yourself killed.

two grounders pulled you up by your shirt, you let out a whimper as they shoved you forward, others doing the same to clarke and finn. they led you down the cave's hallway and into another room where other grounders were waiting then shoving you right back on the ground.

a woman stood in front of you, wearing a long black coat. she unleashed her sword, suddenly stalking towards clarke. you made a move. "wait." you tried, shoving yourself in front of her but you were quickly hauled back by one of the grounders.

but the woman didn't kill her, on the contrary, she cut the ropes on her wrist, untying her. they shoved clarke to her feet, uncovering a girl who laid across a table, gasping out in pain. "help her. if she dies, they die." you gulped, turning to finn who shared the look of fear. "her name is tris."

"i can't do this." clarke looked at the body, turning her so she could see her face. "i don't have any equipment."

"we'll provide you with what we can."

"why do you think i can save her?"

"lincoln told her." finn chimed in.

"yes." the woman answered. "our healer is gone, there's nothing we can do for her. for their sake, i hope you can."

"clarke." finn's eyes were glued to the blonde's, adoration filling them. "you can do this."

the woman and the rest of the grounders began to clear the room until clarke's voice stopped them. "wait. what happened to her?"

a dark look was in the woman's eyes. "she was on the bridge when your bomb exploded. you did this to her."

𝜗𝜚

alcohol stained your hands, blood too.

"it's as sharp as it's gonna get." grounders now filled the room, watching as clarke did everything she could to save the girl. she was hit in the chest and was loosing blood, she needed more and desperately so.

"okay, thanks." clarke snapped the syringe from finn's hand who'd been sharpening it against the ground.

you were busy holding a cloth to the girl's chest, hoping to stop the loss of blood but it wasn't doing a great job. clarke stained the needle with bleach, hoping to rid it of any bacteria while your eyes scanned the girl's face. she couldn't have been older than fifteen, how could anyone send her to battle in the first place?

she was a child.

"okay." she stood in front of the 'leader' who went by the name of anya. "i'm gonna need your blood."

a grounder placed his hand in front of anya, pulling her away. "no." was his answer.

"you're from the same tribe, it's the best match we're gonna get." clarke was adamant but so was anya, neither of them willing to take the risk.

"clarke, she's gonna die." your hands were shaking desperately, tears floating your eyes. "use mine! just use mine!" clarke took you up on the offer, pulling your hands from the girl's body and sticking the syringe into your arm. you winced as she sucked the blood into the syringe, you instantly felt sort of dazed but shook it from your head.

clarke handed the syringe to finn and she searched the girls arm. "i can't find a vein." frantically searching her. "she's clamping down, she's lost too much blood."

your faint voice could be heard. "clarke..."

"oh, come on." desperately trying to save her.

but you shook your head, icy fear withering you away. "clarke, she's not breathing."

a simple sentence that silenced them all.

clarke backed away, meeting in the middle between you and finn while anya stepped forward with her knife, cutting a braid from the girl's hair and nodding to one of the grounders. he picked the girl up, gently as possible, leading her out of the room.

you couldn't bear to look, chest feeling hot.

anya suddenly turned to the grounders in the room. "take them away." eyeing you who held your tied hands close to your chest. "kill them."

your breath caught in your chest. "wait." tears filled your eyes as one of the grounders grabbed you, hauling you upwards. "wait, wait, wait, no, no, no, please." he harshly pushed you forward, carrying you away.

"no, no, no, no, please!" one grounder held clarke back as she pushed at him, trying to get to you. "no, i did everything i could, please!"

but the sound of her voice suddenly faded out as they carried you away. you pushed at them, thrashing in their arms but it was no use, the grounder hauled you away from the room. he suddenly set you down, holding your tied wrists down as his face came close to yours. "don't move." his gruff voice could be heard as you looked away, tears filling your eyes.

another grounder walked behind you while he walked in front of you, leading you to the front room of the cave. your mind suddenly turned to bellamy, how worried he must be. you could see the darkness from the entrance.

you couldn't help it, you ran.

but you didn't get far. instantly, you were picked up by the grounder from behind. you whimpered, thrashing against him but it was no use, he shoved you inside the room, practically throwing you. your head hit off the stone floor and you brought your hand to the back of your hair, metallic liquid staining it.

you pulled it away, shaky eyes spotting the blood dripping down your fingertips.

"w-wait." tears pooled your eyes, fear lacing your tone. "please, please, i didn't do anything wrong, please don't do this―"

you gasped out as a grounder took a fist of your hair into his hand. "your punishment shall be death by a thousand cuts." and before you could take in what he said, you felt a knife scratch across your face, cutting your cheek.

you cried out, hand coming to grab your bloodied cheek as you dragged your body backwards, crawling into yourself. a fat tear rolled down your cheek as your body caved in, huddling your knees up to yourself.

it was no use to cry out and beg them to stop, the grounders were simple beings, once given an order, all they could do was follow it. but still, your mouth uttered the whisper, "please." at the same time as you felt a slash against your left leg.

suddenly, a sword crashed through the grounders head. this time, you screamed. the sight was horrific, blood spewed outwards and you held a hand over your mouth. the body dropped to reveal lincoln, the man who adored your best friend more than anything.

"natrona." the grounder suddenly whispered, the word meant 'traitor'. he yelled out and charged at lincoln who pushed him backwards, guarding him against the wall.

lincoln stabbed a sword through the grounder's abdomen, who yelled out again. "go!" lincoln yelled to you, staring at your terrified form. "go, now!"

and you had no choice.

a whimper left your lips as you ran forwards, lungs collapsing. you worried for lincoln, not wanting to leave him alone but if you stayed, it'd meant lincoln did it all for nothing.

your feet ran towards the exit, tears swamping you as your legs moved at a super speed, running the fastest you'd ever run in your life. never, had your calves burned like this and never had your lungs ached so horribly. all you could see was the moment you were thrown into the room, the horrifying look on the grounder's face. you'd do anything to escape it.

running as though your life depended on it, and perhaps it did.

you managed to look backwards, worried something or someone was following you but as you looked back, you felt yourself run into something solid.

someone.

your mouth opened to scream at the same time as a hand wrapped around your mouth clamping down on it as he turned you to hide behind a tree.

your eyes opened to reveal bellamy, staring at you with eyes full of concern. "what happened?" he frantically searched you as his hand left your mouth. "why are you bleeding? where are the others?"

"b-bells." your cry shook your voice, eyes turning behind you, you swore you could see people between the trees, though they vanished as soon as they appeared. "we have to go, we have to leave. they're-they're gonna find us."

bellamy had never seen you so shaken, shallow breaths making way to your throat but not seeming to find their way out. "hey, hey, look at me." his hands grabbed at either side of your face. even in the darkness, you could make out his pretty dark curls and his enlarged brown eyes. "you're okay, 's just me, you're okay, sweetheart."

and you couldn't hold yourself back any longer. you threw your arms around him, holding him close as nervous sobs wracked your body, chest heaving out as if it were on fire.

"'s okay, you're fine." his hands smoothed your back, doing his best to reassure you but by no means did your shallow breaths slow. "you're safe, princess."

"can we go?" you pulled away, nervous eyes scanning the forests. "please, bells, i wanna go home."

he couldn't deny your scratchy voice or blotchy cheeks. "okay, okay let's go, angel." he helped you walk though you stumbled better than you walked. his eyes glanced down at the blood seeping through your jeans. "your leg." he didn't bother to inspect it, merely hooking his hands around your legs and lifting you up.

your head lolled against his shoulder, arms around his neck.

you began to feel dizzy but bellamy carrying you seemed much better than trying to run again. still, your eyes danced everywhere they could, searching high and low for a grounder, a surprise attack.

you must have run far for it didn't take long for the clear vision of the camp to fall into line's view. as soon as the gates opened and bellamy carried you inside, you found air falling back into your lungs.

"y/n?" the sound of octavia's voice was the first to fill your ears. you must have looked a wreck, covered in blood, carried limp in bellamy's arm. "oh my god, y/n. what happened?" though her voice was directed at her brother, not you.

"it was lincoln." your scratchy voice suddenly spoke, causing her brows to crease. "lincoln saved me."

her eyes fluttered and questions began rolling in. raven suddenly stepped forward, demanding to know where finn was, others began to question about clarke. suddenly, you couldn't breathe again. "okay, listen up!" bellamy's voice rang through the camp, silence followed. "everyone get back to your tents! we'll continue the search in the morning!"

he didn't wait for them to follow his orders, knowing they would anyway. instead, he carried you towards a tent.

everything was suddenly spinning, nothing seemed to make sense. black dots began to cloud your vision and you couldn't see which tent he had carried you to. you could see a woman, very vaguely and he was speaking to her, at least he looked like he was. his lips were moving but you couldn't register the words coming out of his mouth.

the girl must have been something to do with a medic because you could feel her lifting your head up and inspecting between the strands of your hair. you saw bellamy's face contort, but it was turning to mush, practically a mere squiggle now.

he stepped backwards and your hand suddenly reached him.

he looked back to your face, eyes softening. it was apparent that you weren't really there and how could he blame you? the blood loss was already obvious.

"don't..." it seemed like a chore to get syllables to pass your lips but nonetheless, you willed yourself to move, grasping his large fingers in your hand. "don't leave me."

"'m not going anywhere, princess." and to prove it, he sat against the chair next to you, letting the woman inspect your wounds. "okay? you can rest now, i'm right here."

through the haze, his voice was the only thing your mind could grasp to.

you slowly nodded as your eyes fluttered shut.

"you're safe, sweetheart." being the last thing you heard before everything went black.

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golden-cherry · 11 days ago

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deal - cl16 (50/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Reunited.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of fingering and cunnilingus), alcohol consumption, fluff and angst and everything in between

Word Count: 4.7k

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previous part

A/N: this is part one of the dream I had over two years ago. I'm so proud of what the story has turned into. I love you so much. feedback is appreciated!

Charles: I can’t wait to have you back in my arms tomorrow evening.

You smile at your phone, fuzzy blanket tucked underneath your chin and feet resting comfortably in Kikas lap.

You: Next time you go to training camp, I’ll come with you. Take some professional pictures for your Instagram like my job description says.

Charles: And here I thought you liked the picture I sent you. It‘s not really professional, but I gave my absolute best.

He gave his absolute best, indeed. Even though the both of you didn’t text that much in the last few days, he made sure to send you a picture of him in case you miss his face. Even though his face wasn’t visible at all in the photo that showed his abs, boxer briefs and thighs.

Not that you’d ever complain about that.

You: I loved the photo.

Charles: Next time I’ll let you take those pictures of me. But maybe with you in them as well.

You: Is that an offer to sit in your lap again?

You press the send button and put your phone back next to you on the couch, gaze now fixed on the TV. It’s a re-run from Vampire Daries, the episode where it shows that Damon met Elena first. It’s one of your best friends favorites.

When your phone lights up again, you take a look at the message that popped up on your lockscreen.

Charles: As long as you’re naked.

You raise your eyebrows at the blunt text, blood rushing to your ears as you stare at your phone. The last few days consisted of quick good mornings, tired good nights and longing I miss yous but this – this makes you hot and bothered.

A promise of what he’ll do to you once the both of you are back home.

Charles: I really can’t wait to start the new year with you by my side.

How can he go from a text that makes you wet to one that makes your heart skip a beat? You purse your lips and smile at your phone.

„What are you smiling at?“, the Portugese woman asks, hand in a bowl of popcorn. With one inelegant move she grabs as much popcorn as possible and shoves it into her waiting mouth.

„I’m not smiling“, you lie, grabbing your wine glass from the coffee table and taking a sip. You’re hit with a few popcorn pieces. „Hey! What –„

„Don’t lie to me, querida“, Kika grins. „I may have already had three glasses of wine, but I’m not stupid.“ She raises her eyebrow, waiting for you to answer, even though she already knows the answer to her question.

You toss her your phone and, like the best friend she is, she unlocks your phone with your pin. Your chat with Charles pops up immediately. “The last message,” you say, and Kika reads the chat carefully. When you remind her that you only want her to see the last message, she sighs.

“You two are even worse than Pierre and I when we're apart,” she jokes, slowly scrolling up. "It almost hurts how sappy it is." At one message, she throws her head back and laughs before looking at you with a pout. “'I miss you so much it hurts,'” she reads Charles' message from last night.

You roll your eyes in mock annoyance. ‘I know what it says.’ You lean forward and try to get your phone back, but Kika is faster than you and turns away.

“'Just one more sleepless night and then I'll finally have you back again.' My goodness.” Kika breathes out heavily. "I should show your chat to Pierre. He could definitely learn something from your sentimental messages.”

“Kika,’ you warn her, putting your glass back on the table and watching her scroll on.

“'The bed is so empty without you,'“ the brunette continues. ‘’When I'm with you again, I'll keep you in bed and taste your body until –”'”

“Okay, that's enough.” You grab your phone in a flash and sit on it so Kika doesn't get the temptation to take it from you. Blood rushes to your cheeks – and the warmth in your face is definitely not coming from the alcohol.

“Spicy texts,” she grins, raising her wine glass in a toast to you. "I wouldn't have thought of you as the kind of people who sext each other."

You take the bowl of popcorn and pop a piece into your mouth. ”We don't sext.”

Kika purses her lips into a narrow line and raises her eyebrows. “That didn't sound at all like it. I was scared I was going to come across a nude photo of one of you two.”

You throw a piece of popcorn at her. "There are no nudes, Kika." At least none where either of you is really naked.

“Phew. Thank God,” she grins and takes a sip of wine. She draws it through her teeth once before swallowing. Her gaze is curious when you look at her. ”I thought you two hadn't had sex yet. At least that was the case a few days ago. Did I miss something?”

You shake your head. “We haven't had sex.”

“But you've already kissed.” When your gaze wanders from her to the TV, she sits up a little straighter. She puts her glass down with a cool expression on her face to place her hands on your ankles. Her eyebrows raised, she looks at you in surprise. “Don't tell me –”

“We haven't kissed yet,” you quietly confirm her thought, as if you didn't dare to say the fact that you both have done a lot together, but haven't kissed yet.

Somehow the sentence leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Kika reaches for the remote and pauses the episode before turning back to you. “Why not, if I may ask? I mean...” She pauses to think about how to phrase her sentence without offending you. “Your texts are not exactly G-rated.”

You roll a piece of popcorn between your thumb and index finger. “If I knew, I would tell you,” you reply, examining the snack in your fingers as if it contained all the answers you need to define your relationship – or whatever it is between Charles and you.

The Portuguese woman purses her lips. “But – you want to kiss him, don't you? Or don't you want tiramisu anymore?”

You shrug. "Nothing has changed." You exhale quietly. "Absolutely nothing.”

Kika tilts her head and looks at you. "That's the problem, isn't it?”

You sit up straight, too, placing the bowl of popcorn between your crossed legs. “It's weird. It is weird, isn't it? We – after the party, when Charles practically dragged me out of the club, he –” You take a deep breath and try to sort out your thoughts so as not to jump from topic to topic. You run your fingers through your hair. “We didn't kiss. He fingered and ate me out, but when I tried to get close to him and touch him, he blocked me. Which is fine in itself – but I –”

Kika, noticing your frustration, grabs your hand and squeezes it gently. “You don't know exactly where you stand,” she finishes your sentence.

You breathe out and nod slightly. “I mean – isn't it strange that he wants my body but doesn't kiss me? Or doesn't let me touch him? Kissing is actually something you normally do before – before all the other things.”

Your best friend licks her lips. ”Actually, yes.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I didn't sleep with Raphael back then because I didn't feel safe in the relationship – and my gut feeling definitely didn't deceive me.” You shake your head slightly. “And now, with Charles, I feel safe. But he –”

Annoyed by the situation, you close your eyes and lean back against the armrest, putting your forearm over your face. You feel bad that you want to rip Charles' clothes off and kiss him until you can't breathe anymore when he obviously doesn't want it.

Or rather – wants something else. Unfortunately, you don't know what exactly.

“Hey.” Kika's voice is gentle as she strokes the back of your hand with her thumb. ”You two have only known each other for – what – two weeks? You were forced to be roommates before you were even friends. It's only natural that your dynamic would change.” She slides a little closer to you on the couch. “From the beginning, you were destined to be more than just people sharing an apartment. I saw that the very first night we met.”

You remember the dinner very clearly. When Charles was so rude to you because he had spoken to Annika, but you two had made up again. When you shared the tiramisu – the tiramisu that became synonymous with the attraction between you and the Monegasque between you and Kika. When you touched for the first time – only through your clothes, but you could still feel the warmth of his skin.

She purses her lips into a narrow line. “It was obvious from the start that there was more between you. Even if you couldn't admit it to each other back then.” She tilts her head. “Why do you think Charles wasn't so thrilled that you got along so well with Lando right away?”

You mumble through your arm. “When he came back from Maranello, he explained that he was jealous of our friendship and worried that we – Lando and I – might become a couple and we – Charles and I – would no longer be friends.”

“Bullshit.” Kika's voice sounds cutting.

Confused, you sit up and look at her, your arm falling into your lap. “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit,” the Portuguese woman repeats. “You're right that Charles was jealous, definitely. Even the people on the other side of the table could see that. But not about your friendship with Lando. But because you got along so fabulously within a few hours that Lando knew exactly what you definitely wouldn't eat off the menu.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “We talked about it when we ran into each other at the supermarket and he helped me find the groceries,” you explain to her, as if you had to justify yourself.

Kika gently pats your hand. “It doesn't matter where or when you talked about it,” she says at some point. “Someone you only knew for a few hours knew something about you that your roommate should have known. And you'd only known Charles for a few days, had argued twice, and then there was someone else who got along with you so well from the start and made you laugh?” She shakes her head slightly. "Charles was never jealous of your relationship with Lando and the possibility that he might lose you as a friend because of it.”

You're at a loss. "Then what?”

Your best friend takes a deep breath. “He was jealous that Lando took his chance before he did. His chance to be closer to you than mere friendship would allow.” She squeezes your hand again. “Charles definitely feels more for you than friendship, querida. And everyone except you can see it.”

You look at her, raising your eyebrow. “Did he tell you that? Or Pierre?”

Kika presses her tongue into her cheek. “No, but –”

“You see?” you reply and pull your hand away from her, propping your elbows on your knees. “I don't know what's going on in his head. And he's not telling me either. Which is perfectly fine. But how am I supposed to feel when he – when he apparently only wants my body but not me?”

She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again.

“I know that the breakup with Annika really affected him,” you continue. "And that's totally understandable. I mean, who wants to catch their girlfriend in bed with another man?" You run your fingers through your hair in frustration. ”I can understand it, really. But – I don't know – if you're really right, then I don't understand why he only wants my body and not me. He would kiss me otherwise, wouldn't he?”

You have the feeling that your thoughts definitely made more sense in your head. But now they are spilling out of you like a shaken bottle of coke.

“I – I don't know if I can take this. Raphael – when he didn't get my body, he looked for another one, or rather several others. He didn't want me, just my body. I'm afraid it's the same now.” You look away. "I don't think I can get over something like that again. It was already difficult with Raphael, but Charles – Charles means so much more to me than Raphael ever did. Charles is my home. My one and only.”

“Maybe he's also worried that you don't feel the same way about him,” she interjects. "Have you told him?”

“That I love him? No, I haven't.”

Kika blinks at you silently. ’You — you love him?”

You stare at her as if pink elephants were floating around her head. It's the first time you've said it out loud. And contrary to your expectations, your worries and fears, which you brought with you as a legacy from your relationship with Raphael, it feels right.

Tears well up in your eyes. “I love him.”

Kika can't stop the smile that spreads across her beautiful face. Like a little girl, she throws herself in your direction and wraps her arms around you, pressing herself against you. “I'm so proud of you, querida.” She kisses your cheeks. “So unbelievably proud.” She pulls away from you and wipes the tears from your cheeks with her thumb.

You look at her, confused. “Proud?” Your voice trembles with excitement. You actually said it. You can hardly believe it.

“Incredibly proud. You let your walls come down even though you were hurt so badly.” Now tears are welling up in her eyes as well. ”You let love into your heart. Passion. You're ready to be loved, sweetheart. The greatest adventure in the world. I'm so incredibly proud of you.”

The two of you embrace for another moment before your friend pulls away from you and jumps up from the couch. She grabs her laptop and googles shops that sell dresses suitable for tomorrow's occasion.

“We'll go shopping tomorrow morning and get you a dress that will take Charles's breath away,” she grins, cuddling up next to you under the covers. "We'll buy you a dress that he can't wait to rip off you." She smiles at you. ”And he'll kiss you. I'd bet money on that, too.” Before she clicks through the internet any further, she grabs the remote and presses play.

You wipe a tear from your eye before leaning your cheek on her shoulder to watch her browse. In the background, you hear Damon speaking in the series:

“You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure and even a little danger.”

It's as if he's speaking from your soul.

You carefully get out of the cab, trying not to wrinkle your dress. With your purse on your shoulder, you walk up the few steps to the house where Kika's New Year's party is taking place. Your dress is baby blue, with a slit that reaches to the middle of your thigh and a back neckline that definitely doesn't allow for a bra.

Kika did an amazing job dragging you through the various shops this morning, forcing you to try on countless dresses.

And indeed, you found the perfect dress.

“You look fabulous,” she smiles as she opens the door for you. There are already a lot of people in the background and music can be heard outside on the street. She kisses you on both cheeks. ”That dress was definitely the right decision. If Charles doesn't give you at least a New Year's kiss on the lips, I'll be happy to do it for him.”

Your girlfriend is wearing a black, sparkly dress with a cutout at the waist that accentuates her figure beautifully. She grabs your arm and pulls you through the crowd of people, all of whom are also wearing chic evening wear.

You look her up and down and whistle. “You look hot, Kika,” you compliment her as she stops in the kitchen. “Maybe I'll take you up on that offer. Where's Pierre?”

“I have no idea. He's probably lurking around somewhere.”

While she mixes you a drink, you look around before taking your cell phone out of your handbag to see if Charles has sent you a text.

But there is nothing. Since this afternoon, when he texted you that he was on his way back to Monaco.

Kika notices your searching look. “He's not here yet.” She waits until you have put your cell phone back in its case before she hands you the almost full glass. “But don't worry. He'll definitely come. After all, he promised you.” She points to the large clock hanging next to the double-door refrigerator. “And he still has two hours before the new year begins.”

The next hour and a half feels like an eternity – no, two eternities.

You chat with Kika and her friends, even Elena is there, and you win a round of beer pong with her, which looks pretty funny considering that all the guests are dressed as if they could go to the prom in a minute.

The music is loudest in the huge living room, and the bass vibrates right through to your bones as the three of you dance and drink and enjoy the evening as if it were the last day. Which, in theory, it is.

But no matter what you do, your thoughts are always with Charles. Is he already in Monaco? Or even on his way here to you?

You have to actively stop yourself from checking your phone every five minutes in the hope that he has sent you his location or a message. These last few days you have missed him so much that you would like to call him to ask him where he is.

And the more minutes pass, the closer midnight and the new year come – the more your stomach becomes queasy.

With your jaw clenched, you stand in the bathroom and wash your hands, holding your wrists under cool water to get rid of the heat, but somehow it doesn't quite work. Your thoughts revolve around Charles.

Charles, who you haven't seen in days. Charles, who you miss terribly. Charles, who you love.

Charles, who apparently isn't going to show up at this party.

When there's a knock at the door, you turn off the tap. “Occupied!”

The door opens and just as you're about to complain, Kika and Elena poke their heads into the bathroom. Their cheeks are red from alcohol as they join you and close the door again.

Kika puts her arm around your shoulder while Elena leans against the wall. “He'll be here,” the Portuguese woman tries to cheer you up, as if she can read your mind. Apparently, it's written all over your forehead.

You look at her, raising your eyebrows. “And what if he doesn't? There are only twenty minutes left until New Year.” You try to sound as neutral as possible, but you can still hear the tension in your voice.

“Who'll be here?” Elena asks, looking at both of you and taking a paper towel to moisten it a little at the sink.

“Charles,“ Kika answers for you. When you give her a dirty look, she just shrugs.

“Don't worry,” Elena smiles, stepping in front of you and taking your chin in your hand to wipe away the mascara under your eyes. “He's probably already outside looking for you.”

Kika nods eagerly. “Elena's right,” the model agrees. "Come on. You've been in here for far too long. We're going out there now and celebrating the New Year together," she says, leaving no room for discussion. She grabs your hands and pulls you both outside, where Pierre is leaning against the wall. The music is quieter here, more subdued, so you can even have a proper conversation.

“Where the heck have you been?” Kika pouts at him and puts her arms around his neck. "I haven't seen you in ages." She gently pulls him down to her and kisses him briefly before nestling against his side. "Doesn't she look great in that dress?" she asks, pointing at you and your gown.

Pierre smiles at you and kisses you on the cheek in greeting. “You look beautiful,” he says before kissing his girlfriend on the forehead. “But I still have the hottest date tonight.”

“And I don't think that's true,” you hear someone say behind you. The voice is warm and gentle and oh so familiar. When you turn around, he's standing there in dress pants and a shirt and absolutely perfect. ”Good evening, mon amour.”

You don't even try to hide your joy at seeing him again, which is why you immediately throw yourself at him. His muscular arms wrap around you and he lifts you up, before spinning you around briefly.

When he sets you down, his warm hands remain on your hips, while yours rest on his cheeks. “Hi,“ you smile at him, trying to blink away the tears of joy gathering in the corners of your eyes.

“Well, did you miss me?” he grins, his fingers spreading apart and now resting on your lower back, on your bare skin.

Goosebumps spread out at the place where he touches you. As if it is the first time. As if you can't get enough of him. You smile. “Well,” you try to play down your emotions. “I finally had a whole bed to myself,” you joke.

The Monegasque rolls his eyes playfully before pressing you closer to him. “In your messages, it sounded like you couldn't wait for me to lie next to you again,” he whispers, his warm breath caressing your face.

You look up at him. “Maybe I was lying.”

“I doubt that very much,” he smiles at you. "I'm so glad to be with you again." He leans down to you and gently kisses your cheek as your hands slide down to his chest. ”Next time I'll really take you back to camp. I never want to be separated from you for so long again.”

You purse your lips. “It wasn't that bad.” Cheeky lie.

He raises his hand and places his curved index finger under your chin to lift it up so that you look at him. His eyes sparkle in that beautiful green that you love so much.

“It was absolute hell.”

“Maybe you two should just get married,” Kika interjects. You both turn your heads in her direction and stare at her in puzzlement. Pierre nudges her in the side. ”What? Sooner or later it'll happen anyway.”

“Okay, my darling. How much have you had to drink?” Pierre asks her, as he throws you an apologetic smile and then wraps his arm around his girlfriend's waist to lead her away from you both. Elena gives you a quick wink and follows the couple.

Charles leans against the wall, but pulls you with him so that his hands are back on your hips and you are standing between his legs. “You look beautiful in that dress,” he smiles, letting his fingers slowly travel over the fabric on your butt before sliding up over your bare back. “Did you know that it's my favorite color?”

The smile on your face grows wider. “Maybe.” Your arms wrap around his middle. “I missed you so much,” you answer his question from earlier.

His hand gently caresses your shoulder blades before his fingers carefully find their way to the back of your neck, holding you there. “Never again without each other,” he whispers, as if it were a promise meant only for your ears.

You nod slightly. “Never again without each other.”

In the background, you can hear the other party guests beginning to count down the minutes to midnight. You both glance towards the door.

“We should get back to the party,” you say, pushing away from him, just a little, because you can't get any further with his hand on the back of your neck. “So we can start the new year together with the others.”

“I'm not interested in the others,” he says, but follows you back to the party. ”As long as I have you, I don't care about the others.”

His words make your blood rush to your cheeks.

It’s like his presence makes you see everything more vibrant. The air in the apartment seems to shimmer in golden light, a haze of champagne bubbles and glow of string lights wrapped around the ceiling beams. Things you haven’t noticed before, because you were so focused on Charles‘ absence. The both of you come to a halt next to Kika and Pierre, the first one handing the both of you champagne glasses.

„You ready?“, she smiles at you, raising one eyebrow.

Now is the time. The breaking point. The start of it all - or the end before it even really started.

You nod slightly. „I’m ready.“

You stand beside Charles, his free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you so close against him that not even a sheet of paper would fit between the both of you. But even though his hand is on your bare skin, he doesn’t seem close enough. You can smell his cologne – something crisp and familiar, laced with memories of late-night drives and inside jokes and pillow talks. You steal a glance at him, your heart stumbling over itself.

He laughs about something Pierre shouts at him, dimples flashing, his green eyes catching the chandelier light in a way that makes your breath hitch. You’ve known him for two weeks – two fucking weeks – but it seems like you’ve known him since forever. The way his voice sounds all raspy and deep when he wakes up. The way his eyes light up when he talks about something he’s passionate about. The way he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room who truly matters to him.

And yet, he has no idea.

All around you, the energy shifted. The crowd tightened, turning towards the big TV screen mounted on the wall, where the countdown was shown.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

Your pulse quickens. Your heart beats so fast, that you fear it’ll break through your ribcage. You inch even closer, pressing yourself against his side. You can feel his body heat through your dress, something you missed the last few days. It’s been two weeks of skirting around the truth, of stolen glances and unsaid words and hesitant touches, and you don’t know if you can bear another second o fit.

Charles shifts beside you. You can feel it – the way his body stiffens, the way his breath falters.

Seven. Six. Five.

Then, just as you lift your head, he leans down. It would take nothing to close the space between your lips. Just an inch. Maybe less. You can feel his breath on your face.

He says your name, whispers it in a room full of people who shout numbers, but all you can hear is him. His voice is raw. A plea. A warning somehow.

Four. Three. Two.

He closes his eyes, his forehead brushes against yours and the closeness makes your pulse stutter. Every little detail of him is magnified – the different shades of green, the tension in his jaw, the fingers tightening around your hip, curling into your flesh like he’s afraid of letting you go. Like you’d slip out of his reach if he loosens his grip.

One.

His eyes snap open, dark and conflicted.

You push yourself up, not even an inch, and Charles –

Charles pulls away.

Happy. Fucking. New Year.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc cute #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader

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chadleys · 1 year ago

Text

moon sick. | astarion

›› pairing: astarion x f!reader

›› wordcount: 2.5k

›› genre: smut, established relationship

›› rating: 18+, mdni

›› synopsis: whilst on the road, you get your period. astarion, being the loving, caring, supportive boyfriend he is, offers to help. he has no ulterior motives. obviously.

›› warnings: period sex, bloodplay, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk

you wake with a start, astarion’s cold arm a comforting weight across your waist. you can’t think what could have possibly woken you up so suddenly, as you listen for any untoward noises around camp. but there’s only astarion’s steady, gentle breathing behind you and gale’s obnoxious snoring echoing from the other end of the clearing.

as you settle back down on your bedroll, however, you become aware of something sticky and wet between your legs. could be that a wet dream concerning your beloved has you in such a state, but you don’t remember dreaming of him last night. no, now that your senses are returning to you, you remember that last night was reserved for another visit from your so-called guardian. so what … ?

you toss your end of the blanket aside and groan, throwing your head back against the pack you’ve set out for a makeshift pillow. doing so earns you another yelp; must have made contact with one of the stems of the many apples wedged into your supply bag.

astarion is on his feet in an instant, startling you; you weren’t even aware he was awake. not that elves ever truly sleep. it always slightly unnerves you to feel him levitating beside you in his meditative state. ❝ you’re hurt. ❞ his voice is rough, thick with inertia. ❝ i swear i’ll find whoever did this and bleed them dry. we should never have trusted that damned cleric; shar this and shar that. i’ll shove her blessed shar right up her — ❞

he’s already kicking his own pack aside to stomp his way out of the tent when you hiss, ❝ astarion! ❞

luckily he’s not too aggravated to stop and give you a glance back so you can explain in a low murmur, ❝ it’s my cycle … ❞

astarion stops short, one pale hand clutched to his chest. ❝ oh … i — ❞ he waves that same hand now toward the opening of his tent. ❝ i thought … ❞

❝ i know what you thought, ❞ you sigh, more weary knowing what’s to come over the next 7 days than you are of him, than you could ever be of him. ❝ but it’s not. so just come back to bed. please? ❞

❝ i thought you’d never ask … ❞ he purrs, back to his normal self.

unfortunately, you’re doubled over in pain before he’s even halfway back.

❝ i knew you were in pain. ❞ astarion’s back at your side in a flash. ❝ just tell me who and i’ll — ❞

❝ i am, ❞ you gasp, ❝ in pain. but … not because anyone hurt me. well, more like mother nature cursed me. ❞

a particularly bad cramp seizes you and your hand flies out, clutching the front of astarion’s silky tunic. you press your fingers in to feel his cold, broad chest. the sensation calms you a bit … until yet another bout of pain rolls through your midsection.

icy fingers find yours, ghosting over your knuckles. ❝ shall i … see if the druid can make you something? ❞

you shake your head, tugging at his shirt. ❝ just lay with me. please. ❞

astarion’s skin is blessedly cool against yours, as it always is. you lean into him, pressing your face against his frigid neck, soothing your burning cheeks.

his glacial hands find the edge of your tunic, and then the small of your back, which helps more than he could possibly know. you shudder against him, pushing, trying to get more of him.

❝ you know … ❞ astarion sniffs, delicate voice very close to your ear. ❝ i have heard of one thing that is guaranteed to relieve moon sickness. ❞

pulling back, you glance curiously up at him.

he has that rakish grin on his face that you’ve come to know all too well in the past weeks. his reddened eyes roll away from you. ❝ come now, pup. you must know what i mean … sex. ❞ your heart jumps into your throat at the thought; you’re sure astarion can feel it beating harder against his own chest.

suddenly, his mouth is just under your ear, teeth rasping against the exact place he’s fed from you dozens of times before. ❝ i can smell it, my love. ❞

you don’t answer immediately; while you can’t deny the thought appeals to you, if for no other reason than to rid yourself of these damnable cramps, you’re also apprehensive. astarion feeding from your neck is one thing — still intimate, but relatively normal by vampire standards. to have astarion feed down there, on that blood, feeding from your womb …

❝ you’re right, it’s a bad idea, absolutely disgusting. i don’t know why i — ❞

❝ do it. ❞

❝ eh … hm? ❞

❝ do it, ❞ you repeat, grasping onto him for dear life as another squeezing, crushing shock of pain settles in your stomach. ❝ please, astarion. i can’t take it anymore. ❞

it’s been many moons since your cycle has been this bad. traveling on the road without proper food or rest may finally be catching up to you, exacerbating things. not much you can do about that until you reach the city, though.

other than letting your vampire lover drink your blood, of course.

laying you gently back without another complaint, astarion slips the blanket off of you and reaches to undo your breeches.

anxiety overtakes you; there’s already blood on your trousers and the blanket, you’re going to have to wash them in the river as soon as you’re able. you can’t even imagine the scene underneath your pants … but you’re about to find out.

gently, astarion prizes the trousers from your legs, then gasps softly. ❝ oh, my love … ❞

prying your eyes from the ceiling of the tent, you finally look down. astarion is there, of course, looking lovely as always. except, however, the lines on his face look deeper, almost carved, and the dark circles under his eyes are darker, his eyes redder.

another spell of panic grips you; bright red blood is smeared across your inner thighs.

astarion looks dizzy as he takes you in, cold hands cradling the outsides of your legs. you’re about to apologize and shove him away, tell him this is a mistake, in fact you will ask halsin to make you something — and that’s when astarion mutters, ❝ you are exquisite, ❞ and dives in to have his first taste.

the feeling of his tongue on your thighs makes you shiver, and the cool night air wafting in from the tent flap isn’t helping. you grab the clean end of the blanket and drape your upper half, canting your hips up to tell astarion what it is you truly want.

because even through all the anxiety, there’s also a bubble of arousal blooming between your legs. astarion can’t tell, of course, not through all the blood down there, but you sure as hell can. you have the most perfect creature you’ve ever set eyes on between your legs; how could you not be aroused?

❝ all in due time, ❞ astarion chuckles, voice muffled against your thighs as he continues to clean you up. thoroughly. too thoroughly.

❝ you always tease, ❞ you whine, knocking one of your knees against his ribcage.

this time when his gaze flashes sharply to you, his eyes are the reddest you’ve ever seen them. it makes you shake.

astarion’s nails dig into your hips, deliciously, wickedly. you tremble, reaching for him. he chuckles and kisses the inside of one of your wrists, which leaves a smear of blood. ❝ always such a needy little pup for me, aren’t you? ❞

you don’t even have time to nod before he dives back in, his mouth exactly where you want it this time. his lips suction around your clit, tongue lapping out lower down to scoop a sizeable pearl of blood into his mouth.

this time, astarion is the one who shakes. he lays his cheek against your still-bloody thigh and shudders. ❝ you’re going to be the death of me, ❞ he sighs, and you can see him skirting his tongue around his mouth, flitting over his lips, savoring you.

you huff. ❝ you’ll be of me, too, if you don’t keep going. ❞

❝ so pushy, ❞ your lover mutters, but there’s absolutely no heat in his words as he obeys your command and buries his face back into your blood-soaked cunt.

for a while you just lie back and enjoy yourself, and let astarion enjoy himself as well. his arms are strong around your legs, holding you in place so you can’t squirm away. it feels way too damn good, you may have been tempted to try. but as it is, you can’t do anything but revel in the silky feeling of astarion’s tongue lapping up everything you have to give him, his fangs catching every so often on your clit, making you see stars.

at some point, you glance down at him and gasp. ❝ your shirt! ❞

you know how much he prides himself on his physical appearance, and now there’s blood staining the front ruffles of his normally immaculate tunic.

he glances down and tuts, frowning. ❝ oh well. it’ll have to go with the rest. ❞ just like that, he rips it off and tosses it with your soiled trousers.

he must be in heaven, you suspect, if he’s willing to discard his cherished clothing for you.

now shirtless, astarion gives one last gentle kiss to your clit and then slowly starts to climb your body. there’s blood dripping from his chin, staining the rest of the blanket wrapped around you. but more importantly, his broad chest is skating up the expanse of your bloody cunt as he comes, and your clit throbs seeing all that red coating his torso.

❝ astarion! ❞ you gasp, and he grins, mouth full of your blood.

❝ i’m loathe to ask you for a kiss, ❞ he whispers, so low you can barely hear him. ❝ just one. i promise. ❞

you swallow thickly, and he waits for you to lean up, pressing your lips to his in the softest kiss you can manage. blood squishes between you, and you can feel it coating your lips as you lie back down.

one lap of your tongue against your bottom lip and you grimace, spitting and rubbing at your mouth with the back of one hand.

astarion laughs heartily as you mutter, ❝ ugh, not for me. ❞

❝ more for me, ❞ astarion says, almost gleefully.

he’s obviously preparing to get back to it, but you keep him close with your hands on his shoulders. ❝ i want you. ❞

brows furrowed, astarion squeezes your waist. ❝ darling, you have me. ❞

❝ inside, ❞ you beg quietly, which you know enjoys immensely.

your next step might be a mistake, but you decide to chance it. bracing yourself with your legs wrapped around him, you thrust up, dragging your wetness along the front of his trousers. you can feel that he’s hard, and now there’s blood all over his pants. you’re hoping he won’t mind, considering his tunic is already ruined for the night as well.

luckily he doesn’t seem to, dark gaze sweeping down over the two of you covered in your blood, and then back up. ❝ i thought you’d never ask. ❞

his trousers quickly follow his tunic, erection jutting up between your legs.

❝ he looks happy, ❞ you giggle, as his swollen head prods at your blood-soaked entrance.

❝ to see you? always. ❞

having astarion inside of you is normally a relief, a release of all the rampant, pent up emotions this journey has bestowed upon you.

tonight is different.

with all that blood flowing south, your womb is aching, you're sore and swollen as astarion’s cock spears through your lips. every thrust sends a fresh flow of blood down his shaft, which earns you a tight growl from the vampire as he takes the backs of your knees in hand and shoves your thighs back toward your chest, eager to get even deeper inside of you.

and you’re eager to have him, nails digging into his chiseled back, the hard marble of his jaw knocking against your shoulder as his lips, slick with blood, find your ear again. ❝ are you feeling better, pet? does my cock soothe that ache inside of you? the ache that raged inside of you, until you met me? until i filled you up in every lovely way possible? ❞

his words make your brain go haywire, knees shaking around his ribcage, toes curling, your mouth rubbing comfortingly at his cool shoulder.

more than that, you do feel better. the more aroused you become, the more blood flows out of you, the less painful your cramps become. until you’re pushing down against him, trying to ride him at the same time as he’s shoving himself inside of you with reckless abandon. until you can’t remember why you started this in the first place, other than to wind up begging for him to finish inside of you.

❝ inside. please, astarion, inside … ❞ it’s hard to even think clearly enough to form words, your mind consumed with the sight of his beautiful body moving atop yours.

you assume he’ll make you beg, as he so often does; he loves hearing the desperate, pleading tone in your voice that tells him all he needs to know — you belong to him.

but he doesn’t. he fucks into you as hard as he ever has, his thick cock gliding against your engorged walls, making your eyes roll back.

and then the talking starts. the words that make you wish you knew whether or not vampires can actually have children. ❝ you want me to get you pregnant, love? want your belly to swell with my child inside of it? i will wait on you hand and foot, i promise. i would love seeing you walk around knowing you hold my heir, that you protected my seed so well that it grew into a child inside of you. ❞ astarion pauses momentarily to laugh, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. ❝ with all this blood, i know you must be fertile. ❞

both of you share a laugh, briefly.

and when you cum, together, he sinks his teeth into your neck with nothing but a quiet grunt, cockhead twitching and spurting inside of you.

you mewl softly, feeling the vampire trembling and shaking as he empties himself into you. your hands pet through his hair, soothe the back of his neck, across the scars circling his back.

the pain from before is nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a warm, fizzy feeling sitting low in your gut. astarion is bracing himself on his elbows above you, with obvious effort.

you pull him down to lay atop you; he’s not exceptionally heavy anyway.

❝ i love you, ❞ he sighs, nestling his face, chin still slick with blood, against your collarbone. ❝ and … promise me we can do that again. ❞

❝ i love you. and i promise. ❞

#hc #astarion hc #astarion smut #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 hc #baldur's gate 3 smut #astarion x reader #astarion x you

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leah-lover · 5 months ago

Text

Second chances.

Alexia putellas x coach!reader.

Part 1. Part 2

Summary : what happened that night.

4 years ago

“ stop staring at me and focus on the meeting.” you subtly text your girlfriend from across the room. You were sitting behind the computer so that you can control the slides and she was sitting with the rest of the team. You shoot each other a quick smile and redirect your focus towards the presentation. Once the meeting is over you grab your laptop and head towards the entrance. You were then stopped by Jorge vilda. “ As a part of my coaching staff I expect you to be present at my meetings not just with your body but also with your mind.” you look at him confused. “ giggling and smiling at your phone while I was talking is not acceptable.”

“ sir it was just one text.” you try to justify yourself. “ Well tell your boyfriend that while you are in camp this team is your number 1 priority.” you didn't have a chance to say anythiçng because he left as soon as he finished talking. You brush off his comments and text your girlfriend about her whereabouts. You then head to her room as she instructed you. When you enter you put your laptop on the table and find your usual place next to her body. You nuzzle on her chest and just lay there as she strokes your hair.

“ tough day?” she asked alexia.

“ something like that.” you respond. You then turn around so that you can face her.

“ Your free kicks were amazing today at practice. You might even be the number 1 in the upcoming games. your reaction time is also over the charts. It's near perfect.”

“ This is becoming my favorite thing in camp.”

“ what me telling you about how good you are?”

“ no, you sharing the bed with me.”

“ You know I can't stay for long. If he finds out about us we both are out of jobs.”

“ how would he know? Please just tonight and I won't ask you again. I really need you.” Once alexia asked something of you you couldn't say no. Besides, you really missed her. “ okay but just for tonight.” you then kiss her and cuddle with her for the rest of the night. *

Since you didn't come back to your room your phone died. So as soon as you sneaked out of alexia’s room, headed to yours and plugged it in. Once you got out of the shower you unlocked it to find 10 missed calls, and 6 messages from none other than vilda. You panic as you open the messages.

Why are you not answering? Why are you not in your room? Where are you? I can't keep looking for you all night? Fine if you don't answer i will go look for answers myself?

Your heartbeat was faster than it had ever been. You take a deep breath change out of your robe and pick up your phone to call him.

“ conference room now.” he says as soon as he picks up leaving you no room for debate.

Once you go to the conference room in which you were alone with him. He pointed to a chair so you sit there he doesn't though he kept standing. You found yourself speechless.

“ I employ you with my team because I trust you. I think you have good judgment. But you failed me.” you feel a lump form in your through. “ You failed me not only with your choice of lifestyle but also who you choose to corrupt and involve with you in this messed up situation. .” you close your eyes so that you won't cry while he still stands in front of you. “ I gave you a job, a good one. I thought you were my right hand and that you would replace me when i decide to leave. But forming an indecent relationship with one of my players is off limits.” you feel a knife jam in your heart and a tear leaves your eye. “ Your relationship is wrong and shouldnt have happened. You are lucky I like you so I am gonna give you a chance to change. Break up with her and apologize to me and you can keep your job and she won't be called up anymore.

His last sentences changed your stance from scared to angry.

“ Who the hell do you think you are?” you snap.

“ I am the one who gave you two jobs and I am the one who can take it away from you. Plus I am trying to correct your choice of lifestyle because it is wrong.”

“ choice of lifestyle. You have to be fucking kidding me. I love alexia putellas, i love a woman. Does it bother you that I love her? Well go fuck yourself because nothing will tear us apart. And if you take this job away from me I will sue you even if it's the last thing I will do in life.” you were angry and furious.

“ Nobody wants you here. The players feel uncomfortable because of your new relationship as confessed by the captain last night. So sue me if you want you won't win. Now hand over your badge, get your stuff and leave. You are fired." His blast words left you lifeless. “ as confessed by the captain last night” last night you were sleeping with alexia so it had to irene. You move on autopilot and almost break her door as you knock so hard. Once she stood in front of you you didn't find it in you to scream or fight.

“ why?” you ask, sounding defeated.

“ He asked me where you were and he threatened to kick me out of the team.” she said calmly.

“ So you rat me and your friend out. You couldn't have told him I went for a run. We are friend irene. I didn't think you would betray me like that. I trusted you with the thing I love most in life and you took it away from me so that you could protect yourself. You could have lied.” you say crying.

“ It was all bound to be exposed with time.”

“ Is that what you are going to tell yourself so that you can sleep at night? You didn't have to tell him that my relationship made you uncomfortable. You didn't have to tell him anything. You ruined my life irene. I lost my job because of you. I will never forgive you for that. never. “ you turned your back and left. You went to Alexia's room after. Once she saw your red eyes she took you in for a hug. In her warmth you cried. You cried because of Irene's betrayal. You cried because you lost your job. You cried because you lost everything.

“ I love you. I love so much amor.” the way alexia said it felt weird to you so you got out of her hold and looked at her. She wiped the tears from your cheeks and took your lips for a searing kiss. She kissed you with so much passion and hunger it left your lips red.

“ Alexia, what's wrong?” you ask concerned.

“ He talked to me and asked me to choose between you and the team and I chose the team.” she said with tears in her eyes.

“ why is it that everybody say things so calmly like its nothing? Is my love for you worth nothing?”

“ My whole family, my father’s legacy, everyone depends on me to make them proud. I need to stay in the team for them.”

“ And what about me? Is everything we dreamt about gone in the wind?”

“ This is more painful than I could have ever imagined. I never thought we would have to leave each other. But my family comes first.”

Her words cut through your heart and left nothing behind. You kiss her again for the last time; go to your room, collect your things and leave the hotel without talking to anyone. You felt your heart turn to stone as you saw the hotel in your rearview mirror. That day you lost your job, your life, your dream, your purpose, your love and also your heart. That day destroyed you without mercy.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #espwnt

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nothomegal · 1 year ago

Note

HIII I MISS YOU :(( straight to the point, I need a yandere pyramid head fic!!

I´m sorry for the disappearance ;v; Can't post much due my studies.

Anyways, I ADORE your suggestion! And boy if our little (Y/N) is going to have a rough time with a yandere creature like Pyramid Head ._.)

Welp, let's start the story!

"Innocent lamb"

(Yandere!Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Summary: the entity's realm was hell for some, heaven for others, and an inconvenience for the rest... But when one of the creatures encountered you, he made it everyone's problem, even the entity's that brough him there in the first place. But he meant no harm to you. He likes you. He wants you. He needs you. And he wͦ̀ͯi̸ll̩ͩ have Y̛̗̰͇͚͓͈̣͕̰͓̗͛ͤ̀̇̍ͥ͒̓͝Ơ̵̔_̰̅U̵̷̡̧̡̨͖̟̹͙̙͓̥̗̫̣̙͉͕͉̣̬̇ͭ͗̉͂̅̍͗̇̇́́̈͟͞

Warnings: yandere/obsessive behavior, violence and violent acts, quite angst(y) mood in general, (understandably) terrified reader darling :(.

Word count: 4.2k

The moment they entered the trial, all four survivors knew right away who the killer was. Either its the dread they all felt as soon as their feet made contact with the ground that gave it away, or the fact that the entity had placed all of them in the same spot next to two generators just to have any chances to make it out alive.

But they know it's in vain, they know they're doomed for a long long death by bleeding out.

They know it... Because (Y/N) is with them.

Said survivor had to bite their lip to avoid crying, as guilt and terror embraced them. Just because the monster had this unholy obsession with them it didn't mean they were okay with it, if anything it scared them more.

He, Pyramid Head, the Executioner... Or however you want to nickname him, is said to be one of the most powerful creatures the entity had the pleasure to bring, so powerful in fact that the spider-like being had to make a deal to bring him.

So it's not surprising that they are absolutely horrified, but who wouldn't? This monster, an embodiment of pain and punishment, almost a god, has been hunting them relentlessly ever since he laid his gaze or... Helmet? On them.

At first it was all jokes and gags;

'Aww look, (Y/N) has a boyfriend!'

'Watch out, here comes your crush (Y/N)!'

'Uh-oh, the triangle man seems jealous, look how pissed he is at Nea for healing you!'.

But the jokes stopped when it got clear how truly messed up and sinister said 'crush' is.

They still remember it, it was a regular match against that one masked knife wielding guy that runs a lot, he's called 'Legion' they think. The trial was going relatively well, just like many previous ones. Until it suddenly got an 180° turn when one of the walls to the realm was literally destroyed by a hulking mass of muscle and a giant knife. To say both (Y/N) and the killer nearly had a cardiac arrest was an understatement, things got so ugly that the entity had to intervene and cut the trial short.

That incident could be a fuel for a new wave of jokes, could... If it didn't happen again. And that next time was even worse, the beast nearly made his way into the survivor side of the realm, somehow bursting through the barrier the entity had created to keep the survivors separated from the killers to avoid any pity fights after trials.

Ever since that event, Pyramid Head was strictly kept in 'his' realm, aka Midwich Elementary School.

Sometimes, after escaping through the gates and running back into the camp through the fog, (Y/N) could swear they can hear the monster roar in the distance. Loud, distorted and fierce howls resonating somewhere behind the dense fog, as if the creature was desperately trying to yell out their name. Either to let them know how badly he wants them or a promise to break free and get them... Both possibilities giving them chills.

The entity of course wasn't okay with this, it was pissed! But it also could do so little... The great deal now had turned into a major curse. If the deal is broken, the Executioner won't hesitate to damage the realm to get what he wants. But if it remains, the monster will find new ways to bend the rules and make it everyone's problem.

Why the entity doesn't just give (Y/N) to the beast or gets rid of them ones for all? No one really has the answer. Some think it's due the entity's pride, or the possibility of the executioner going ballistic. For now, it's more of a silent (and petty) battle between two stubborn beings, each of them refusing to back away from their goal.

Goal. The entity's goal, though still confusing, is more or less clear; force people and creatures to play these twisted games and feed on those who get sacrificed. But the executioner's goal? It's straight up a mystery. (Y/N) know it has something to do with them, but... Why them exactly? Why not Cheryl? Didn't she come from the same place as that beast? What the monster even wants them for?

What will he do when he finally gets his hands on them? Wh-

A rough shake snapped (Y/N) out of their internal break down.

They blink a couple of times, tears of fear nearly sliding down their cheeks as their body shivers. They were scared, more than the other three survivors combined.

The survivor holding them by their shoulders, David, sighs when he finally notices them react.

—"Look, I know you're scared..."— he starts talking, his voice surprisingly calm.

—"I'm-... I- I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry-..."— you choke out in a weak wobbly voice, guilt eating you from inside.

—"No no. Just listen for a sec. I... Well, we all can tell that you aren't enjoying it neither. So, let's not break down into a soap opera, okay? Don’t think of this as hopeless match, but as another chance to woop that asshole's ass and escape."—

—"And also leave him empty handed!"— Feng announces from her place while already working on a generator.

—"Yeah, screw that triangular piece of shit! Let's try out Dwight's strategy this time. You remember it, do you?"— he asks you, not letting go of your shoulders yet.

The surprisingly positive and reassuring words of their teammates towards them really soothed and even cheered (Y/N) a bit. With a small smile they quickly wipe their eyes before nodding.

—"Good, see? We're already starting on a good note!"— he lets go to then pat your back, basically pushing you forward. —"Now go help with a gen before putting the 'plan' into work."—

Though the push hurt a bit, (Y/N) didn't care at all about the pain, too focused on keepings all the negative and pessimistic thoughts away.

For the first minute and a half everything was going well, (Y/N) and Feng were working on one generator while David and Jonah were working on the other one. The four of them were dead silent, straining their ears for any of the sounds the creature makes, such as heavy footsteps, the scraping of his gigantic knife or their own heartbeat. Weirdly enough, everything was calm... Too calm.

(Y/N) nearly choked with air when a cold chill ran through their spine.

Spine Chill. The beast... Is watching them.

They attempt to subtly alert Feng by carefully tapping her leg, but as soon as their fingertips touched the other girl’s skin, their heartbeat started to get louder and louder, until…

—“WATCH OUT!”—

(Y/N) exclaimed as they pushed Feng, just in time to dodge a bunch of sharp and rusted metal pieces coming out the ground.

—“Holy-...”— she mutters.

Now that the monster is here, the four survivors decided to put in action the mentioned strategy.

They all let go of the generators and run away in different directions, (Y/N) being the most desperate while running since they know exactly who the beast is targeting.

His pattern is always the same; chase after until sending them into a cage to then down all of their teammates and then come straight back to all caged and helpless (Y/N) and then… Stare or touch them until the others bleed out or the entity has enough.

The difference in the current case, is that (Y/N) is not playing just cat and mouse. In fact, chasing them is the worst the killer can do. All of their abilities are chase oriented, another teammate lurking around has all the boon ones, while the last two have all is needed to rush through the generators. If everything works out, the monster will get himself in a situation where he's be forced to leave (Y/N) alone.

The chase was intense, at least for (Y/N). Despite never catching a clear view of the Executioner, they could feel him close behind, following them methodically like a wild animal on a hunt, waiting for the right moment to strike while keeping up the tension.

It was hard to maintain the focus, every single hallways in The Game looked the exact same. Did they vaulted that window already? Didn't they pre-dropped that palled over there? Did Feng placed it up again? Are the other two working on the generators? Have they taken this left path before?

So many questions where swarming their mind as their legs kept carrying them on, only momentarily relaxing when two generators finally made that distinguish noise.

Two done! Tree left.

A breathless laugh escaped from them. Great! This is already going better than all of their previous encounters with the Executioner, which would always end with the first generator barely reaching 30%.

However, their smile was quickly swept when they realized they no longer hear their heartbeat or thundering footsteps tailing behind. It was silent, dead silent, with no other sounds that their own breathing.

A wave of anxiety flushed through (Y/N) like a tsunami wave and started to drag and drown them deeper into their own worries.

What the?... Okay, this was not part of the plan. The Executioner had never left the chase with them, never. So the fact that he finally did, and apparently a while ago, made them shake.

With nothing else to do, they gather the courage to start moving again. Where? Somewhere! Anywhere but to stay in place and be an easy target to the beast that so desperately wants them.

They keep running, stopping only for a brief moment before turning a corner, making sure they don't hear any muffled breathing that at times resembled growls. They learned the hard way with the Shape that some killers like to wait around corners, and they don't want to commit the same mistake right now.

Their heart jerked when they heard a scream resonate from their left, and a faint reddish aura in the shape of a human gleamed for a second before disappearing.

David is down.

And it seems like he's not getting picked up, which could either mean that the monster is setting up a trap or chasing someone else. Whichever the case is, they shouldn't go-

They hear a bunch of footsteps come their way, and in a set of panic they crouch behind a bunch of boxes, silently praying that their disguise is mildly good.

They can't see much from their spot, but they can clearly recognize the shape of Jonah running away from something massive.

As soon as the two figures passed by, (Y/N) gets up and takes off running towards David to check on him.

After some wondering around the labyrinth-like place, they finally reach their injured teammate, who was still on the ground and groaning from pain.

—"{David!}"— you whisper-yell as you start running towards him.

He weakly lifts his head just enough to see them. When he recognized who it is, he starts to frantically shake his head.

—"NO! GET THE FUCK OUT!"—

Huh? What-

As (Y/N) is about to reach David, a path of sharp metal pieces and razor wires had emerged right in front of them, just when they're about to make contact with the floor again, making in impossible to dodge.

The second their leg got tangled into the sharp metallic mess, everything went too fast. They don't even have time to pull away as something sliced them on their side, sending them directly on the ground.

They send a guilty and ashamed glance to David, who had an frustrated expression.

—"{Sorry...}"— you mouth.

(Y/N) has no chance to see David's answer as a massive hand suddenly curled around their throat and forced them to look away from the other man.

Their eyes wide at the sight of the beast menacingly hovering over their helpless form, holding their body in place between him and the ground. The muscles of his extended arm were tense, his breathing heavy, almost like he's holding back the anger and displeasure caused by them giving attention to someone else.

Their heart skipped beats, their breath uneven, their eyes watered as they tightly closed them, not wanting to witness whatever this thing was about to do. They can feel the warmth coming from his body, his breathing slowly stabilizing, as if staring at them and watching them slowly submit was enough to calm the monster. Ironically, it did the complete opposite to (Y/N), as their own heartbeat raised from the anxiety of having to face the unknown, attempt to predict the unpredictable and prepare to witness another massacre unfold around them at any second... Just to then end up caged and at the mercy of this-

—"LEAVE THEM ALONE ASSHOLE!"— David angrily yells from his place, struggling and trying to stand up. —"You're fucking terrifying, of course they don't want to look at you!"—

They can feel Pyramid Head's hand tense and start shaking, his fingers twitching and pressing further into their skin. (Y/N) was beyond terrified now, just a little bit of pressure and the creature could crush their throat like a cardboard tube.

David, though clearly using all of his strength, ended up falling back on the ground, as if some invisible weigh is actively pushing him down.

—“You freak! Absolute sick fuck! Let them go already!”—

As the waterfall of profanities continues, (Y/N) slowly places their hands around the monster’s wrist to attempt to push his hand away, unfortunately he didn’t budge at all.

Suddenly, David’s stops screaming and the very next second (Y/N) feels something warm and slippery press against their cheek.

They jerk in place at the uncanny sensation and shoot open their eyes, a breathless gasp escaping them at the sight of a… Wh-What even is that? A freaking tentacle? A tongue?…

The dark pink muscle wiggles in front of their face for a moment before licking another stride, wiping some of their tears and blood in the process, making (Y/N) shiver in discomfort.

They shoot a confused glance to David, desperately wanting to know if he’s witnessing this too. The man had an expression of pure ‘what the fuck’; eyes narrowed, brows furrowed and mouth slightly gaping.

This eye contact was brief though. (Y/N) got startled for a loud growl that reverbed from the beast's chest and helmet. The hand finally leaves their throat as the beast stands up to his full height and starts making his way to David, leaving them alone, as well as his knife?

(Y/N) throws their teammate a scared look, but David responds with a forced smirk.

—"Ah, now you decide to drag your big ass towards me."— he mutters through gritted teeth.

The monster seem to not react to his taunts. With each step that he takes towards David, his mask of confidence seems to crack.

Nevertheless, the man didn’t back out from his insults, he never does.

—“What’s wrong? Why so pissy, huh?! Jealous that (Y/N) prefers us?!”—

Saying their name was a sore spot to hit, and the way Pyramid Head reacted confirmed that.

The monster roughly grabs David by the neck, completely ignoring the fact that he’s not even holding his weapon. Instead he uses his bare hands to silence him.

Nasty, wet and crunchy sounds resonated through the room and hallways as the creature began to tear the man’s body limb by limb, piece by peace, unbothered by the pained screams of his victim or the low groan of displeasure that resonated from above for again not playing by the rules.

(Y/N) froze in horror at the sight in front of them. Blood, chunks of flesh and bone pieces where flying everywhere, never before they’ve witnessed this type of gore, not even during the ‘mori’.

Though it felt like the massacre lasted hours, it was actually second. The monster threw the whatever remaining he had in his hands and slowly turned back to (Y/N), who was still frozen and unable to look away from what was left from David. They know they will meet again in the fire camp, in one piece and alive, but god they felt sick...

Their shock breaks only when the thundering footsteps began to resonate again, shaking the ground underneath them with each the creature took. He grew closer, and closer, with them being able to do absolutely nothing aside from attempting to crawl away.

But that pity attempt was stopped when the same sharp wires and rusty metal pieces emerged from the ground and wrapped around their body, pulling them slowly underneath and sinking them further into the ground. And before they realize it, their body is already trapped in that rotten metallic cage.

Cold metal spikes just inches away from their flesh, so close to penetrate their skin, a wrong move and they would undoubtedly get hurt. But even if they wanted to move, they couldn't really. The space in the structure was small, claustrophobic even, each spike perfectly adjusted to keep their form in place. In some twisted way, it felt like a hug, a very cold, unwelcoming and unnerving hug.

They flinch when they hear a scream resonate from somewhere, which was cut by a loud slam.

Feng was caught.

It seems like the Executioner didn't bother to down her, rather getting rid of her directly, most likely because he's aware that Jonah is not keen of going for rescues...

And speaking of the man, there is his aura flashing before (Y/N)'s eyes as his body fell on the floor.

He's down... Which means that-

Before they even finish their conclusion, the tall figure of the monster appeared. Just by looking at them his behavior seemed to change; movements more erratic and pace uneven, almost like he's hypnotized.

He makes his way to them, slowly, as if purposely building up the tension.

(Y/N) wanted to look away or close their eyes, but whenever they did so the cage felt painfully small. It hurt, literally, so they stare at that beast grow closer with wide shaky eyes that struggled to keep their focus on him. This is something Pyramid Head was always good at, he could always make you fear, even the toughest bravest ones would inevitably succumb to the terror his presence brings.

Ones in front of them, the creature stops in place and simply stares, like he always did.

(Y/N), though still scared, was a tiny bit relieved that this is what the rest of the trial would be; them being pinned like a butterfly with the monster observing.

It would be just that.

Just this bizarre staring contest.

...Right?

WRONG.

The creature suddenly let go of his weapon and grabs the edges of the cage with both hands quite violently.

Now the little hope and comfort (Y/N) had was thrown out the window, as now they realize they no longer have any idea of what will happen next.

And by what it looks like, the entity is not planning to intervene, as if curious itself to see what will happen next.

Pyramid Head remains like this, his big hands tightly squeezing the imperfect metal bars, bending them slightly and making the already miserable looking material groan from the pressure he was applying.

It looked like he wanted to destroy that cage, rip it apart and get to them, but didn't do it by holding himself back... Why? What's even the point of this build up? What's even the point in wanting them?!

—"{Wh-...Why?...}"— you choke out in a very quiet voice. —"{Why a-are you d-... doing this?...}"—

(Y/N) knows is stupid to ask, Pyramid Head can't even speak! But they can't help themselves, they're too scared, their anxiety is unbearable and their thoughts are too out of control. They need answers, anything that could even hint for a possible explanation of the killer's intentions.

They began to second guess their decision to speak when the creature froze in place, even his breath was now inaudible. This was the first time (Y/N) spoke directly to the monster, but they didn't expect him to react at this fact, not like this, or at all.

But he did, he did acknowledged that little detail, and he will make sure they acknowledge it too.

The creature soon moves again, by slowly leaning closer and slightly tilting his head to the side, almost like trying to get a better look at them.

His breathing got heavier, low huffs and growls resonating from that metallic helmet of his. It really looked like he was actively holding back some major urge or desire, but what it is?

(Y/N) wanted to ask again, but decided against it as there is little Pyramid Head could do to answer, and even if he could, why should he? Maybe it's more amusing to him to see them helplessly wondering in the dark and unable to comprehend what's going on.

Or maybe, there is simply nothing to explain?... Maybe he does what he does just because? Human mind is way too used to seek for reasons and explanations for anything and everything, often forgetting that sometimes the answer is way too simple or straight up null, could that be the case?

The same groan coming from the cage bars pulled (Y/N) out of their thoughts. They forget how to breathe at the sight of the structure slowly collapsing as the monster starts to rip the bars with his raw strength.

A scared yelp escaped them as they try to back further into the cage as much as they can, ignoring the sharp edges that scratched or pierced their body. They barely felt pain, none at all actually, the adrenaline and basic survival instincts keeping their body resilient and ready to run. The sad part is, is that there is nowhere to run, nothing to do. It's sweet that their body tries so desperately to keep their hopes up and reassure their survival, but their mind is more than aware of the cold desolated reality...

The front part of the cage was eventually ripped off and thrown against the floor violently. (Y/N) can only cover their eyes with their hands and quietly sob as they wait for whatever the monster had planned to do next.

Even when no further actions are made, they refuse to look. They no longer want to face this thing, they no longer want to suffer this torment. Regardless if they believed in any religion or no, they mutter silent prayers under their breath, but not no save them, but to make it end and to know how sorry they are for any evil or harm they've did in their life that leaded to such tragic conclusion.

But this is where the catch is... They've committed none. At least from the Executioner's perspective.

Despite their whispers being so silent to a non-existent point, Pyramid Head heard them loud and clear. And the more he heard their voice, the more he felt the inside of his chest burn and the desire for them grow even more. (Y/N) is not perfect, they're human after all, and all humans have their fair share of flaws and defects... But unlike the rest, (Y/N) has the ability to acknowledge said imperfections and genuinely try to make up for them, to fix them... Regardless if they get something in return or not.

This, this is the true purity in a human being. An innocence and kindness so genuine that it would be a sin not to worship and protect... And who is a best fit to take care of it other than the fearsome Pyramid Head?

(Y/N)... So pure... So innocent... So kind... He must keep them save.

He must keep them...

He wants them...

W̴͕̳͈͔̭̝͠ͅ a̶̩̰̲̎̓͊̈̓̕ ǹ̴̢͇̬̘̗̯̜̍̋͊͠͝͠ ṭ̶͇̃̔͝ s̶̭̩͔̹̝̼̅̍̆̉͌͝

As the monster is about to reach them, a spider like legs burst out through the floor and wrap themselves around (Y/N).

The trial... Is over.

And while the absolutely livid roar gets overshadowed by the groans of the entity as the black fog surrounds the whole place. (Y/N) only keeps quietly sobbing as they cling to the spider leg sticking out of their chest. And though they knew the entity is the main responsible of their current torment, they were too overwhelmed with emotions to properly process their actions.

Surprisingly, the spider-like being didn't disappear right away, probably feeling pity for their situation and allowing them to cry for a brief moment, most likely to compensate this unplanned mess they have to deal with.

To everyone's surprise in the camp, when (Y/N) finally arrived they where unconscious, either passed out after such emotional roller coaster or the entity wants them take some genuine rest. Whatever the case it, it didn't matter, what matters is that their fellow friend is back save and sound, right?

As one of the survivors decided to take them closer to the bonfire for warmth and comfort, they could swear they heard some weird noises from afar.

It resembled a demonic cry filler with rage, so distant yet menacing. Everyone instinctively shivered.

And though (Y/N) successfully 'survived' yet another trial with the executioner, almost everyone had the gut feeling that the next encounter they have with the beast, it will not end good...

They all take a glance at their still unconscious form.

Poor (Y/N)...

#nothomegal ask reply #nothomegal fic #nothomegal oneshot #pyramid head #pyramid head fic #pyramid head x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #gn reader #dbd fanfic #dark romance #dbd x reader

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sovksluv · 1 year ago

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i promise, angel

𖤐 . pairing - Luke Castellan x fem!Hera!reader

𖤐 . summary - luke changes your lastname

𖤐 . content includes - luke being cute and lovesick, forbidden child because who doesn’t love attention, can’t really thing of anything else

𖤐 . word count - 1386

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303

𖤐 . a/n - ugh this is so cute i was kicking my feet the whole time 🤭🤭

you had a small feeling bubbling deep inside you all day, one that had only grown as the day went on. from the moment you woke up to right now, where you and your stunning boyfriend Luke were lying on a beautiful field, amazed at the bright shining stars above you.

it was you guys’ seven year anniversary, which you had spent the whole day celebrating. you and Luke met when you were sixteen, and you had just arrived at Camp Half-Blood for the first time. you were claimed the second you made eye contact with him, by your mother, Hera.

it was an indescribable feeling that washed over you that day. you had already met other people before Luke, but when your eyes met his for the very first time, that’s when you felt it. not only did you feel the presence of your elegant mother, but you swore you met the love of your life right then and there.

you don’t think Luke realized as quickly as you did, though, considering it took almost two whole years for him to finally ask you out. and that’s what you’re doing here in the field with him, relishing in the seven perfect years you spent with each other. you didn’t think the day could get any more perfect, but that feeling from before still gave you hope.

while you ogled at the stars above, you felt the gaze of your lover on the side of your face. your head slowly turned towards him, finding a soft smile rested on his lips. “what?” you giggled, grinning widely while your boyfriend shamelessly stared at you.

“am i not allowed to stare at my gorgeous girlfriend?” he joked, carelessly exaggerating the label. you felt your heart flutter, gaping at the man you'd loved since you were just a teenager, assuming you wouldn't last more than a year.

you flashed him a pearly smile while he carefully reached his left hand towards you, tucking your hair behind your ear. it sent goosebumps down the right side of your body, emitting a squeaky giggle from you. “weeeell… i never said ya couldn’t look at me,” you shrugged, still brightly grinning at him.

Luke sat up, grabbing your hand to pull you too. he wrapped his right arm around your shoulder and tucked your body into his, kissing all over the top of your head. “i wanna show you something,” he mumbled in your ear, standing up on his feet and offering his hand out to you.

tilting your head, you looked at him suspiciously, “what?” your hand lifted cautiously to his. he rolled his eyes, grasping your hand and pulling you up with him, right into his arms. “just come on, it’s not like i’m gonna kill you,” he chuckled, lacing his arm around your waist as he guided you to your next destination.

he led you back to the trail you left off from, walking further down it until you stopped at a lit pavilion. the lights that surrounded you made your skin glow with an ethereal beauty. Luke gawked at you, unable to tear your eyes from the mesmerizing girl that was standing in front of him.

“Luke, this is beautiful,” you gasped at the scene, carefully taking it all in as you felt him take both your hands in his, holding them comfortably. “it is, isn’t it?” you hear him say, your head turns back towards him, finding him already looking at you. a warm blush creeps up onto your face, and you feel that familiar bubbling in your stomach once again.

he whispers your name, not breaking eye contact, not letting go of your hands. “Luke,” you whisper back, reciprocating the squeeze he left on your hands. he smiles at you, not a cheeky one, but a genuine smile. a smile that tells you all you’d ever need to hear, without even uttering a single word.

he lets go of your hands, gently making sure they are by your side before he reaches to his back pocket, pulling something from it but not showing you. your eyebrows furrowed, confusion etched on your face until he moved again.

slowly, Luke lowered, his right knee resting on the ground. your eyes widened in shock as he looked up at you, revealing what was behind his back to be a white velvet ring box. “Luke.” you warned, as if there was any possible way he could be messing with you.

but he wasn’t. he bashfully stared at you with a goofy grin on his face, holding up the box in front of you. your heartbeat sped up, hands shooting to cup your gaping mouth. “Luke,” you murmured, muffled by your own hands.

he just kept staring at you, slowly opening the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring, one that reflected on the lights around you. you were so in awe, feeling tears pool in your eyes as your heart exploded. Luke’s voice muttering your name again was barely heard, but you still looked at him.

“i have loved you sniff since the moment i laid eyes on you.” he quickly wiped under his left eye before continuing, “and i knew- i knew right at that moment that i sniff was gonna marry you one day,” you smiled widely and he smiled back, tearfully chuckling.

his name left your lips once again but he interrupted you, “no, no, wait, let me finish, okay? I’m almost done, angel, i promise,” he sniffed again, still holding the delicate ring box with his shaky hands. you nodded, signaling him to continue.

he called your name once more, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for your upcoming answer. “will you do me the greatest honor in the world sniff of becoming my wife?” he finished, a hopeful, lovestruck look pooling in his eyes. his heart stopped, the wait, which was only a few seconds, felt like hours, years even.

but then you squealed, loudly, freaking out at his question. “yes! yes, yes, yes! a million times yes! oh my Gods, yes!” Luke was still in shock, partially frozen, unsure if the words he heard were real or not. he quickly shot up onto his feet, barely having any time to balance himself before you basically threw your body at him.

your arms locked around his neck, practically choking him with how hard you held him. with your face buried into his neck and the ring box held tightly in his left hand, he wrapped his right arm around you, tugging you even closer to him, if that was possible.

you kept your hold around him but slightly pulled away, cupping his face you shoved your lips on his, kissing him so aggressively that he almost fell backwards. Luke kissed you back with just as much ferocity, pushing your head closer using the back of his wrist.

after a while, you finally pulled away, desperate for air. “yes, Luke Castellan, i will marry you,” you grinned, breathlessly. he smiled widely, pulling from you as you lifted your left hand to him. he carefully pulled your ring from its confinements, then he held your hand in his and placed it on your ring finger.

“it’s perfect,” you whispered, entranced by the gleaming diamond that decorated your finger. you were so quiet Luke almost didn’t hear you, but he did. his hand cupped your cheek, moving your head to look at him.

his eyes were glassy and his smile left wrinkles in the corners of them. he slowly leaned down, capturing your lips once more. one hand slid further down your jaw, keeping your lips close to his, while the other found the small of your back, leaning your lower body closer into his.

the kiss was delicate and un-rushed. you closed your eyes and savored it, wrapping one of your arms around his neck while the other, the one adorned with your new accessory rested on his chest, gripping his shirt and tugging him closer.

you both slowly pulled away at the same time, lovingly staring into each other’s eyes. you brightly smiled at him again, feeling your mother’s presence all around you. Luke repeated your name one last time, like he had all night, but ended with his last name trailing right behind it.

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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago

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y'all know the ghostface mori from dbd?

that's how cbf!simon takes a picture with you during sex on your own phone to send to your ex.

this wasn't supposed to be smut, but it is now. so. oh well.

cbf!simon had met him before, obviously, and didn't even acknowledge his existence the first time— only spoke to you, with his large body shielding you from your then-boyfriend. he was a worthless slip of a boy who walked around unawares with you in his arm, sat with his back toward any entrance and he even let you walk on the edge of the sidewalk.

unacceptable.

the only reason his face hadn't ended up on a milk carton was because when simon questioned your relationship with him, you swore that it had only been dates, and pecks on the cheek.

regardless, when he watched you get ready for a movie date night, simon decided that enough was enough.

he started coming around more, goading your boyfriend while still not addressing him.

"love, you got one of my old shirts around here somewhere?"

"pet, you remember that one lake i took you to and camped overnight? heard it's drying up, that true?"

it's comical if it wasn't just so fucking pathetic how your boyfriend just took it, like some sort of cuck. if it had been simon, he would've ended up on the stretcher in the very first meeting.

and then it clicked.

it should be him, not this meritless imbecile.

so, while he was waiting for you in the living room to take you out for dinner, the very first sentence that your boyfriend hears from simon is, 'ya wanna know why she's not sleepin' with ya? cuz i'm the one fuckin' her every night. sorry, pal.'

simon had been sitting on the couch, legs manspread, and his arms stretched out, lax, on the backrest when he said it.

the very definition of unbothered.

when you come out in your pretty burgundy button up, and tight black pants, simon was very glad that he ran that fool out the door— he doesn't deserve you.

you get a 'this is over' text in minutes, and simon tells you that he wasn't good enough for you anyway. just get comfortable, wear his shirt you love to sleep in, and put on a movie— he'll be back with a couple bottles of wine.

2 and a half bottles of wine later, and you find yourself under him, his tongue entangled with yours as he bullies his fat cock into you for the first time ever.

simon coos into your ear when you hiss at the pain of the stretch, whispering that you can take him because you and him are meant to be.

"it won't hurt the next time we do this, pet."

your mind is warm and fuzzy with the alcohol that courses through your system, and it gives you courage to ask, "promise?"

simon finally bottoms out, and your mind goes blank at the feel of him hitting a spot inside of you that no one's ever reached before.

"i promise. for you, anything. i swear it." he's babbling, but he doesn't care because you're finally his, and if he has any say in the matter, you'll only be his.

your pretty pussy will only ever know him.

he starts to move, long, slow thrusts, and the burning sting starts to melt into a toe-curling pleasure at the edges, and the liquid fire that started in your belly starts to spread through your veins— a scalding ecstasy burning you from the inside out.

you try to wrap your legs around his waist, but he's too wide, built like a tank— so you give up, and plant your feet down, opting to meet his hips with yours. the flared head of his cock rubs so deliciously against this one spot inside of you, and your vision begins to spot as your belly tightens, muscles tensing for what's to come—

when simon pulls out roughly, and a sob escapes your lips. you were so close, god, why is he being so mean to you?

simon lets out a pained grunt as his cock twitches and slaps the side of your thigh with his heavy hand, chuckling.

"i know you were, love, i swear i'm not trying to be mean, i almost just came in this sweet cunt. i'm not done with you just yet. turn around, on your knees."

your reaction is visceral, and you flip over so fast your stomach churns. you lower your head until the carpet is digging into the soft skin of your cheek, and sensually arch your back.

presenting yourself to him, your glistening, swollen pussy begging to be filled.

"'s tha' wha' ya want, love? hm? f'me to stuff ya full of my cock? beg me, then. beg me like the pretty slut you are— to fuck ya the only way i can. only me and no one else."

the words spill from your lips like water does a faucet, slurred with pleasure. "please fuck me, si, fill me with your cum, i promise i'm a slut jus' f'you, only you can fuck me the way i need, i swear i'm yours, only yours."

something in simon snaps when he hears you profess how you're only his. he sinks to the hilt in one smooth stroke, bends his left leg to deepen his angle and fucks.

you don't even try to stop the sounds that come from your mouth, too far gone, cock drunk. every thrust of his hips punches the air from your lungs, and your arousal is renewed with fervor, this time painfully so. it hurts, how bad you want to come, you just need a little more, a little—

"y'wanna come around me? lemme feel you then." simon's hand curls around your waist and his fingers start to draw cruel, tight, precise circles on your neglected clit, and your climax slams into you so hard, you might just start crying from the relief.

"thaaaa's it, pet. cream all over me with tha' tight cunt o'yours."

simon doesn't stop rubbing your bud, nor does he stop thrusting into you, dragging out your pleasure, almost to the point of oversensitivity.

"'m not pullin' out, y'hear? you're mine now. and i'm gonna cum inside what's mine, clear?"

you dumbly nod, bobbing your head up against the rough carpet, and he picks up the pace, his hips slamming into your hips, jarring your spine.

he finally comes in you with a growl, spurting thick ropes of hot seed onto the entrance of your womb.

your body is limp under his, and while still inside of you, he languidly reaches to the side for your phone. he knows the code for it too, and when he unlocks it, smirks at your background photo.

it's a selfie of you and him— you are posing with two fingers by your face, and simon's arms around your shoulders.

he finds the camera icon and opens it.

it's time that idiot knew you were simon's too.

simon leans forward, his front to your back, and pulls your head up by your tangled, sweaty hair with one hand, and holds the phone with the other directly in front of your face.

"say cheese, pet."

the bright flash of the front camera goes off, and then asks you what that dumbass' name was.

he snarls when you say it, but quickly finds it in your contacts and types a quick message.

'delete this fucking number. if i ever see you around here again, i'll kill you.'

then simon presses send. and then he also sends that picture to his own phone. that fucked stupid look on your face is something he needs as his screensaver.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #cod smut #cbf!simon

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ma1dita · 26 days ago

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asking for trouble

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader words: 7.8k prev -> when the curtains close | next -> as above so below summary: (post-TLT, compliant to TLO) The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all) a/n: non-descriptive mentions of blood and war, main character death. angst. a boyfriend that yall may or may not agree with. one chapter left after this!! i imagined the last scene to play out with luke in a room where they have the immersive exhibits at a museum

—

[august 15th; camp half-blood kitchens, long island, new york — 9:49 pm]

Everything begins and ends with love if we are fortunate enough.

There’s a stillness that fills the air the night before what historians and future demigods alike will deem the Battle of Manhattan. It’s stifling—suffocating in the silence of the camp kitchens as you cover a sheet cake with blue frosting, piping the edges with a steady hand as you check the clock, time always ticking over your shoulder.

Almost lights out.

The circumstances are different now though, and surely no one will be able to sleep soundly tonight. Fate is hard at work unraveling the future, the gods and their spawn alike are preparing for war, yet you’re here putting sprinkles on Percy Jackson’s birthday cake.

It’s the most nonsensical thing you’ve done all week amidst the war preparations, taming the whirlwind of mixed emotions that shook camp in the days before. Perhaps it comes with the knowing that everything will change, and the only way out is through. Only the lucky ones get to go home after this.

“Are you really not coming with us tomorrow?”

Clarisse chuckles at your question from her position against the doorway, crossing her arms and watching you stick candles on the top of the sweet dessert. Her hands flex over her sleeves, tugging at the fabric like she needs to hide away from the rest of the world, “You make it sound like it’s a walk in the park instead of what it really is.”

“Is that why then?” You look up from your piping bag raising an eyebrow at her, “We need all the help we can get, Risse.”

“It’s a death wish. I don’t know how you do it grandma, but the world will keep spinning no matter if 5 shows up or not,” Clarisse mutters, rolling the words around in her mouth, “How do you do it? Knowing that he’ll be there…I-I don’t want Chris to put himself through that again. We’re going to lose anyway—something, if not everything.”

You know that too.

There’s something ironic about how the children of war won’t be joining the fight of their lives, but Clarisse La Rue is as stubborn as a mule when she doesn’t get her way. Only something truly special would send her running to the battlefield at this point.

“A part of me feels obligated to be there and help fix it, Risse. This is the path I chose.”

She scoffs, her sneakers knocking against the side of the kitchen island. The daughter of Ares is wistful, hesitant… and nothing like herself tonight. You suppose conflict shapes someone like her like how insanity lines the essence of your being. Intangible, but the base of every choice—the driving reason connecting you to your godrents.

“Yeah, I know that, but I still don’t get it. You don’t have to be here anymore,” she says thoughtfully, moving the cylinders of sprinkles around on the counter by height order, then by colors of the rainbow, “you could’ve chosen the easy life without all of this…I mean, if I ever got out of here alive, I wouldn’t look back.” The statement is sharp in the silence as if she’d attacked you with Maimer. Your eyes meet hers as if there’s a big secret she’s missing out on. You always look at them like that now, with a faraway gaze of a place none of them can reach.

“Who’s to say? Getting old and aging out of here is harder than you think, you know… College, rent, taxes…” you list off with every squeeze of the piping bag, spelling out Percy’s name with white frosting. Clarisse bites her lip, resting her chin against the palm of her hand as she watches you.

When she closes her eyes at night, she often dreams of being home in Arizona, dry heat prickling at her cheeks and dust swirling at her ankles. That’s what her future will look like, she thinks—and she’ll let herself be selfish if it means she gets what she wants. What do you dream of? Do you think about a future for yourself if you’re so worried about saving everyone else’s?

“But you still came back. Is this easier than that?”

Not easier, but familiar. Nothing you ever want comes easy after all. There is a comfort in walking the grounds of a camp counselor job you used to dread instead of filling out job applications; easier to you means fighting with the gods and slaying creatures of old instead of paying student loans and making rent.

“I think you’ll find out that you do stupid things for love, Clarisse La Rue.”

She’ll never tell you this, but you’re the strongest person she knows. You’ve shown her that strength doesn’t always mean brain or brawn. Sometimes strength is loving someone without expecting anything in return, and the gnawing feeling in her stomach eats at her in an unsatisfying way—like Tantalus reaching for the grapevine, fingertips grazing the leaves for eternity.

Instead, Clarisse wipes down the counter with a Clorox wipe as you make your way towards the door, cake in hand. Tonight, she and her siblings will sleep with the knowledge that they’ll get to see another day. Call her selfish, sure—but that’s how she loves them. Alive.

“I still stand ten toes behind the fact that Michael Yew can be knocked down a fucking peg,” she mutters. There’s a small smile on her face and when she looks up at you, she sees your face is illuminated by moonlight. Clarisse hopes this won’t be the last time—silently praying to her father to extend his hand onto you.

“I’ll see you when I see you, La Rue.”

Whenever that is, she thinks. This is easier than a goodbye. What matters is showing up. What matters is that they try. That’s what she reminds herself as she turns off the big light and heads toward Cabin 5.

Does any of that still matter in the end if they aren’t alive?

Her siblings are already asleep when she tucks herself into bed despite the music and laughter coming from 12. Light from across the way filters through her window, a warm glow cast across her face leaking through even when she shuts her eyes. It warms her, reminds her of the orange of the stupid shirts they wear, sunsets on Fireworks Beach, and the molten lava that drips down the climbing wall.

Home might not be what she remembered it to be after all these years. Clarisse decides to sleep on it, hoping that when they wake, there’ll be something worth fighting for.

[august 15th; cabin 12, long island, new york — 10:08pm]

Camp Half-Blood is quiet as you walk through the dark forest, minding your step over the brambles and checking off your mental list of responsibilities before day breaks. The air is especially cool for a summer night, melancholy being your only jacket as you move on auto-pilot. Your fingers tighten around the tray you hold, pushing the door open to Cabin 12 which currently houses most of your campers. It’s lively and bright in here—you would think they’re all celebrating a Capture the Flag win instead of being sent off to their deaths for the greater good.

Tomorrow, they’ll wake up soldiers.

The wood creaks beneath your boots and it’s drowned out by the sound of soft chattering and laughter, a few of them still scuffling over sleep spots, and then—”HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY!”

There are only enough people in here to comfortably fit in a few of the strawberry trucks tomorrow—some went home to their parents to avoid the chaos and some chose not to fight at all. And the ones that remain— all 40 of them, that is, are spread out on the floor in sleeping bags writhing like worms. All the whooping and cheering is accompanied by Michael leading his siblings in song (and Connor and Travis ruining it by chanting CHA CHA CHA!).

Percy is just shy of sixteen now, but the sheen in his blue eyes still reflects the tranquility of open water and something tender that you saw in him when he came to camp at twelve years old. Later, through mouthfuls of cake and smears of blue buttercream on his cheek, the son of Poseidon looks up at you thoughtfully, “Is this a pity cake?” He tries to make light of the situation by acting like the fate of the world doesn’t depend on his life or death, and you take a deep breath.

Even demigods fall victim to fate, and the gods still push on. But what of their children that fight for change in the world they set the rules for; their children that fight their battles for them and lose their lives for immortal beings that live forever?

“This is a birthday party, not a pity party, Percy Jackson. There's no pity for the damned,” you chuckle. Damned if we do, damned if we don’t. All of the world’s problems seem so permanent when you’re 15 years old. It’s just fucked up that his will actually alter the course of humanity.

“And if this is the end of the world, I just wanted to make sure we’ve told you happy birthday first.”

“Well thanks,” Percy mumbles over a spoonful of buttercream, face reddening when Annie throws a paper towel roll at his face, “Hey!” It reminds you a lot of when you and Luke would fight in the dining pavilion, chicken tenders and mac n’ cheese flying through the air, and apples cut just the way you like.

You blink.

It all boils down to him or Luke.

“Wipe your face, Seaweed Brain!”

Percy rolls his eyes, smiling down at his plate regardless of the weight he carries upon his shoulders. The more you want to live the more you have to lose, you think as you brush your knuckles against a spot of frosting he missed. You don’t look at the blonde boy and see a hero of the Great Prophecy—still, you see him as the little boy who was mesmerized by you conjuring strawberries on his plate on his first day at camp, innocent and honest.

Looking around the room wistfully at that thought, you start to see the memories of their childhood blanket all of themlike ill-fitting clothes; it’s all you can notice. The feeling is so big it swallows you whole. Annabeth is still the little girl who’d rattle off obscure facts from Snapple bottle caps from her time on the road, drawing pictures of buildings with your eyeliner after sneaking into your room. Silena still makes blush out of berry juice and would call you about boy problems as if she’s not a child of the goddess of love herself. Will is still the boy who sings as he lights up fireflies and draws smiley faces on bandages. Katie, the girl who makes flower crowns for your birthday and eats strawberries with you soaked in morning dew. You look around and see scraped knees that you’ve kissed better, sleepy eyes you’ve sung to, and hearts you’ve kept warm—this is your glory, your greatest achievement being the family you’ve found in the woods of the Long Island Sound.

“You see it too?” Grover mumbles, nudging you and you sigh, squeezing his shoulder. Sometimes you forget the satyr is older than you; he stands tall as your pillar of support, unwavering in his promise to protect these kids.

“We’re getting old, man.”

“You’re only 23. There’s so much left of you,” he deadpans. Laughter comes out of you in waves as you shake your head smiling.

“And what a pleasure it’s been to grow up with you.”

Grover bids you a good night as you walk up the stairs to your old room, phone in hand while you dial a familiar number. Your boyfriend answers before the end of the first ring.

“Hey, I didn’t think you’d still be up!”

Settling against the windowpane near your bed, a soft smile graces your features and you realize he’s not there to see it. It’s always been easy with him—Dex was unbelievably kind, and he had a heart that he’d share without you having to ask. He was unlike any man you’d ever encountered before, and over the past year and a half you found it easy to love him.

Worst of all, he’s utterly devoted to you. At least every part of you that you were willing to give him, even if it wasn’t all of you per se. Plus, you saw the ring in his desk drawer last week.

It was too…good to be true.

You recognize that this was your way out like Clarisse said, your escape from the turbulence that was your life as a demigod. But it was hard to believe that you were deserving of it. He’d never know of the ichor that runs through your veins, and the life you’d have to leave behind to truly be with him. You suppose every love you’ve ever had was sacrificial. You just wonder if because of that, easy makes it hard to feel real.

Maybe if you survive this one you’d tell him the truth. But for now, he’s rambling in your ear about his sudden work trip upstate. Morpheus and Hypnos are already at work then, redirecting the city dwellers out of Manhattan. It must be later than you thought already and in a few short hours, Apollo will be shining his rays across the Island for what you hope won’t be the last time.

“I wish I was with you right now,” you mutter in a hushed tone, and you hear him laugh breathily through the static sound of the phone. It’s easy to imagine him twirling the telephone cord between his fingers, flopped over the tiny loveseat you went halfsies on with your first big paychecks. The apartment you both moved into after graduation is more accurately a shoebox—but it’s yours, and the love you have for it is immeasurable in comparison to the square footage. You hum, listening to the sound of his voice, “Maybe I can catch you before I go—stop by and say hi before I drive up.”

He won’t. By morning, you’re not even sure if he’ll remember you—all traces of Greek gods and their counterparts wiped clean from memory until it’s all over, whenever that is. You’re mindlessly walking in circles around your room, bare feet padding against the floorboards. He repeats your name and you realize you haven’t been paying attention, the tail end catching your ear, “Hmm?”

“Or you could come to me. I’m sure your dad won’t mind. It’s time I meet him, don’t you think?”

And out of anything happening tomorrow, that especially sounds like a nightmare so you make a noise of disagreement, “I can’t. You know I can’t, honey. I’ve got…” your voice trails off as your lilac eyes land on a faded photo strip thumbtacked to your wall, “unfinished business to deal with.” There’s nothing left but inky silhouettes on the sun-damaged paper, two past lovers huddled together. But you know what it’s a picture of. Rye Playland, you and Luke at fifteen, cheek to cheek and covered in wisps of cotton candy.

“Mm. Sounds important. Does your unfinished business have a name?”

Dex sounds playful now, teasing despite the silence on your end of the line. A beat passes, and then another, and he can hear the sound of your hands rifling through the things in your desk drawer. The dragon scale necklace is cold in your palm.

For good luck, you think.

It’s been a while since you’ve worn it—keeping it safe in the only home you and Luke shared, and as soon as it touches your neck, you feel a little less empty inside. It feels like a safety blanket, protecting you from whatever might come next. You almost feel guilty to be relieved.

Thumbing the cord absentmindedly, you mutter, “You don’t even know the half of it, Dex.”

“Maybe one day you’ll tell me.” Sometimes, it’s like he knows— Dex must be the ivy that grows over the walls you’ve built up around yourself, and he can see glimpses of who you try to hide behind your stone-cold resolve. He wonders if you’ll ever tell him about the names you call out at night— an indistinguishable language he’ll never fully understand. He wonders where you’ve gotten your constellation of scars and where your mind goes when you sit next to the window and stare at the skyline.

Oh, he wonders.

The glow-in-the-dark stars are faded now on the ceiling when you look up at them, fighting to give their last bits of light. You wonder too, if there’s any fight left in you; a bit of Luke always remains—he’s everywhere you look. You can feel him as night falls upon New York, bidding you goodnight before it crumbles tomorrow.

“Maybe. Good night, honey.”

Dex yawns into the receiver. You know his feet are kicked up onto the coffee table even though you always tell him he shouldn’t, and that his glasses are already off for the night. You really think he could be a nice guy to end up with, all things considered. Dex was the epitome of normal, and after almost two and a half decades of existence, it’s quite evident that you are anything but.

Normal might be quite nice.

He yawns again. Hypnos must have reached his window, “I love you, you know that?”

“I do. Me too. Good night.”

It’s the truth.

You love this man and the spaces he’s filled within the chaos of your life. You love all of him, from the perfectly normal way he makes breakfast for you every morning (and laughs when he burns the toast), and takes the train to work at a middle school in Harlem (“6th grade ELA takes a lot out of a man,” he jokes). He picks you up from your job at the therapist’s office downtown if you get out too late, as a gentleman would (though you’ve fought monsters that he’d scream at the sight of). Once upon a time, normal was exactly what you used to wish for.

There’s a moment where your breath hitches and you sink against your pillow and you wonder if he would love all of you—demigod and all. Could he get used to this— summers at Camp Half-Blood with chariot races and gladiator-style fighting, pegasi and harpies roaming the grounds, and watersports with woodland nymphs? Dex never even questions your green thumb or how Pollux made him hallucinate your dead brother when he came to visit (“It’s what Castor would’ve wanted! The full twin-terrogation!” he insists. You convinced your boyfriend he got food poisoning that night). Could you come clean about knowing how to slay a chimera, or why you never get drunk, and have the stamina of an Olympian (the athletic kind, but not too far off from the truth)?

But it shouldn’t be called coming clean. That makes it sound like you’re ashamed of who you are—which you’re not. You’ve just been hiding this part of you from a normal human that you love very much.

Gods, is this how your dad felt when he was seeing your mom?

Somehow insanity has always felt bearable—love, however, has always been such an ordeal.

The phone bounces onto your bedspread once you hang up the call. There is no more time to worry about playing a part. Tomorrow, everyone comes as they are—whatever happens after will be a problem if you reach another day. Fate has its way of making itself known, you know that by now. Blinking, you take a deep breath, and very intentionally, with your feet criss-cross applesauce, you pray—for what, you still try to figure out as the minutes tick by.

Better late than never.

Here at camp, you were always the last one up after lights out, anyway. Tonight of all nights shouldn't be any different.

[august 16th; 34th street and herald square, manhattan, new york — 9:17 am]

“Where do you think you’re going, mister!”

Your little brother flinches, immediately turning tail and walking across the deserted street to meet you in the middle. He’s taller than you now, craning his neck down to look at your angry glower as you thrust a finger into his face, “You’re sticking with me.”

“Jake said he’s taking 9 and 12 to the Holland Tunnel,” Pollux calls out, shuffling his feet and you punch his arm hard, “OW! —It’s what Percy wants.” He swats your hand away for good measure, his arm guards clanking against yours when he dodges another swing at his head.

“We are Cabin 12, you shithead. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second.” Your staff is heavy against his shoulder and Pollux can’t help but let his gaze wander to where Jake Mason and the other children of Hephaestus are waiting for him a block over. Manhattan is a warzone, and the difference between fighting empousai and fighting his older sister right now is very similar in theory—hard to do alone. The tunnel is halfway across the city from the Empire State Building—if something were to happen to either of you…

"M’not here to fight,” he sighs, “with you at least. I need to do my part, sissy.” The old nickname is an arrow through your heart and you grab Pollux’s hand, “I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I couldn’t get to you in time.”

“HEY 12! You coming, or what?”

The two of you look towards the small army down the block, both of your hands intertwined like grapes from the same vine. You’re not sure if you can let go; you’re not sure if your father could lose another child. But Pollux’s face is almost set in stone—he’s never been more sure of himself. Your lip wavers, forcing itself into a stiff smile and he softens at the sight, “I’ll be okay.”

“And if you’re not? Then what?”

He shrugs, “Then… then I’ll get to see Castor.”

You nod, breathing shakily, and flinching when Jake calls for Pollux again, “Well. If you are okay…You come find me. After this is over, you come straight back home to me. You got it?”

Pollux hugs you, hard—the force of all of him sending you sprawling into his arms and it knocks the wind out of you. As the twins have grown, it’s been rare for them to show you any affection. They’d usually recoil or whine about how mushy their older sister is, and each time it makes you laugh. But right now, you stand there gripping onto his t-shirt, breathless; the ringing in your ears gives way to words he mumbles into your hair, “I love you,” he says, in case you didn’t already know.

Just in case this is goodbye. You take it in for a moment longer, running a hand through his blond hair and cupping his cheeks as you finally step away, “I love you. I’m so proud of you, P. We all are.”

“Haven’t done anything yet,” he grins, backing away slowly, a skip in his step as he nears the small troop of Hephaestus kids. You wave them off, blowing a kiss as they band together and turn in the other direction.

Why is it that you can only be proud of someone if there’s something to prove it?

You think about all 40 of your campers fighting for their lives in the greatest city in the world. The sound of hellfire, roaring monsters, and screams that could only come from your kids. Fatigue wears you down with each swipe of magic towards enemy forces, monsters writhing in pain at your feet, demigods reduced to insanity and blood-curdling screams. It disgusts you even more so that no one can witness the weapon you've been forced to become.

After all, no one knows any of you were there. Life continues on outside of the bubble containing the Battle of Manhattan. And only the ones fighting will be able to remember this. Only you will remember the blood you spilled to wrestle for your destiny.

The rest of the city continues to sleep, safe from the people who swore to protect it.

[august 17th; empire state building, manhattan, new york mount olympus, in the sky above new york??? — 11:22 pm]

Running up 492 flights of stairs was another type of hell you didn’t expect to put yourself through, but it was faster than waiting for the elevator to Olympus. It’s quiet besides the steady rush of blood pumping in your ears, your boots slapping against the tile to reach your friends who might be in danger at the hands of someone you know well. But it’s too late to give up when you’re so close—you realize you’re praying to anyone who’ll listen as you push through the pain of always being a little too late.

“Ugh!”

Air pierces through your lungs painfully as you trip up a landing, hands clawing against the banister. Have you been running in place this whole time, quick to start but hard to follow? Your lip quivers, eyes trailing up the stairwell faster than your legs can take you.

Whatever the outcome, you’ll be better for it, you hope.

It’d be easier to give up. To stay away and not watch Percy fight for his life against him. You dry heave as you press your head against the wall, wondering if it’s worth not seeing what will become of this wretched prophecy. It’s hard to survive loving the villain when the rest of the world is dying because of it. Your legs feel like jelly underneath you, and not a single soul in Manhattan knows you’re here—until you feel the strength of an old traveler lift you up and revitalize your soul. Looking down to see your boots retie themselves tightly, the feeling in your chest reminds you of him. Everything leads back to Luke, and you think wherever he is now—Hermes knows that too.

“Thank you,” you mutter. He’s handpicked your prayer through the tempest that hangs over Manhattan so that maybe your hands will be gentler in smiting his lost son. You find yourself with the nerve to run up the last dozen flights of stairs, pushing past the entryway to see Thalia Grace under a statue of her stepmother, “THALIA!” You barely make it to her fallen form before her free arm tries to push you away from the rubble.

“Get out of here! I mean it—” Thalia spits out your name through gnarled teeth and bones crunching under the heavy hands of Hera. The statue lays over the bottom half of her body, holding her legs down like how one forms a fist, and the daughter of Zeus pushes through pain and millennia worth of her dad’s karmic debt in giving her life—the essence of being a forbidden child still has a hold on her, even now.

“I’m not gonna…leave you…”

With everything in you, both demigod strength and sheer desperation, you push at the unmoving stone and your fingernails begin to splinter from the pressure.

But you know what it feels like to get left behind.

Desolation slowly sets in your bones, a hollow feeling that spreads through your core as sweat rolls down your cheeks, and when you sniff to wipe it away, Thalia’s lip quivers. She’s writhing in pain and everything is coming to an end down the hall from where you stand.

“We’re so close, Grace. I’m not giving up on you when we’re this close. I need you in there with me so you just hold on, okay?”

The marble is cool to the touch under your moist hands, and her face is fixed in a grimace as she looks up at you and sees you for who you are—another demigod who was never given a fair chance at fate but with a spirit of a hero waiting for the right chance. Thalia coughs before slapping your hand away, “LISTEN TO ME! I’ll be okay. He needs you to be there. We’re almost out of time!”

You barely register your body moving as you get up and start to run, looking back at Thalia by the time you’re at the top of the landing. There are no words that you could imagine to string together when your eyes meet hers in the distance that separates you two—the feeling of grief bearing down as you both know the end is near and inside those doors.

As you turn back around, you take a moment to wonder if you might’ve had different people in mind for who’s up there waiting for you.

[august 17th; the hall of gods, mount olympus, the sky above new york— 11:48 pm]

Finally pushing through the heavy doors of the Hall of Gods, your eyes burn like salt in a wound as you travel toward the center to see three figures laid out on the marble mezzanine. There’s a cramp in your calf by the time you reach them, your legs giving way as you skid to a stop in front of Luke’s corroded body. The pain doesn’t register for you, split skin going numb as you stare into the eyes of a storm you fell in love with almost ten years ago.

A stranger is no longer wearing your love’s skin. Percy and Annie’s eyes feel heavy against your back as they watch you sigh in relief, a landslide of emotion rolling off of you when you see he’s still breathing, even faintly, as if he waited for you to make it back to him.

“It’s Luke,” Annabeth chokes out, “the scythe transformed into Backbiter and I knew it was him. He was fighting for us.” Her voice makes you flinch, makes this more real—it echoes as the wind carries it through the hall. Without a doubt in your mind, you know it’s him by the way he looks at you with tired eyes, soft and amber—the light pushing away the shadows and he reaches out for you. His skin is paled by the River Styx, face weathered by the Titan as you gently guide his head onto your lap. A pathetic cry slips from your mouth when you realize there’s more pressure in the fingers he brushes against your cheekbone versus the one holding the blade embedded in his chest.

Fuck, what do you even say?

He’s dying right in front of you and you can’t think of a single word to say.

The clock is ticking and every breath of his comes out weaker––he speaks before you can find the words, breathing out, “I missed you,” like it was a relief to say it. And it all comes spilling out like a secret you’ve been safeguarding since the day he left— a mix of your tears and his blood smearing across your cheek as he reaches out to wipe them ever so gently. You find yourself smiling in the face of death itself—smile even if the both of you can feel death’s hand on him saying that time is finally up because the act of meeting each other here in the middle makes the years you’ve gone without him worthwhile.

The reunion is also the loss; a nasty habit you’ve both fallen into over the years. But this time, Luke’s finally able to give you the world he wanted to see just before he leaves it.

You clutch him close without intending to let go, purple eyes scavenging for confirmation that this is your Luke, the one who pushed you through the brambles of the North Woods, wind in his hair and mischief in his smile. He’s citrus and musk, cunning smiles, something sacred kept within cabin 11, calloused fingers pulling at your t-shirt, and the voice out of tune at nightly sing-a-longs—and he loves you still.

Loving you was the only thing that never changed.

“Shhhh, don’t waste your energy. The gods will…” you swallow a sob despite yourself, “I…my dad’s going to be here soon. He’ll help us.” There’s a lump in your throat that carries the weight of everything unsaid. Who would help you now that everyone else is getting what they wanted—a brighter tomorrow without the villain? But the prophecy unveils itself so cruelly, and the one who hurt you is the hero in this story, just as he’s always dreamed. It so happens to be at the cost of loving you.

Luke’s eyelids flutter like butterfly wings descending softly. You press a kiss onto his forehead like you used to while waiting for him to fall asleep. The chuckle that rumbles his ribcage is faint against the hand of yours that’s holding him together and the war is finally over and no one even knows that besides the four of you in this room.

“I'm running on borrowed time,” Luke wheezes, “I think my life ended the day I left you.” His thumb weakly traces the tear tracks cascading down your face, and he’s reacquainting himself with every feature of yours while he can touch it—to hold and be held by you after so long feels like drinking up ambrosia, his last bits of strength telling you what you’ve always known.

Is there a word stronger than love?

One that would explain how close and how far you feel to him at this moment and you don’t want to say the wrong thing but there are no wrong words when it comes to the right person. Hoarsely, through wavering lips, you chuckle, “Then it's time to stop running, baby. I’m here now.”

It’s exhausting to carry the weight of tomorrow in your arms and to know it’ll be made possible only by letting him go. You’re holding him too tightly, claws sinking in to feel—to ground yourself and keep him tethered to this reality, just in case a different answer falls out of the sky.

But falling with Luke Castellan, falling for him, has been nothing like you wanted. You've said your goodbyes more often than you can count.

This part is just about letting him go.

“I think I’m doomed,” he laughs, coughing harshly. Blood soaks his airways, retribution for the lives he took. It drips out of his mouth and you still look at Luke like he’s asked you to marry him. What a soft, funny thought.

Love must be more violent than war, to feel like this—to know he’s wrecked your world and still come out the other side smiling at him like he put the stars in the sky. His fingers are slipping out of yours as you hold onto the knife that keeps him here and Luke mutters, “I’m so s-sorry. You deserved better in this life.” You hear Annabeth sob from somewhere behind you but you can’t look at anything else but his eyes, not daring to miss another moment of him.

“Can’t be all that bad,” you say with a watery chuckle, wiping his mouth with your thumb. There’s more of a mess now with your feeble efforts but the action comforts you more than him; caring for Luke is something you cannot unlearn.

“This life gave me you. I don’t want to know anything else. Do you hear me?”

You want Luke to know this—to understand that even if this is how fate has handled the both of you, there is no other hand you would hold but his.

“You’re my whole life, Trouble.”

“I know, angel. I know. It’s always been me and you.”

You and me, he mouths, an echo of himself left to relay the message as his eyes lose their warmth, empty now and unseeing. And then he's home in your arms again as you hold every broken and bloodied piece of him together until he's no more. The parts of him he leaves behind blur into you, rivulets of his lifeforce weaving through your fingertips even when you put pressure against the knife you both hold, hands cradling the spot under his armpit, and to Percy and Annabeth it looks like you're holding his heart, clutching it between your fingers.

Protecting it until his last beat—when he finally gives it over to you.

It was always yours, anyway.

Before, in the in-between, and now after, his heart is yours.

Time stops for Luke Castellan, the man born to die, in the Hall of Gods that day— in the arms of his partner and in the presence of his little sister and truest friend.

Lips against his ear, no one tries to pull you away, even when the gods of Olympus march in expecting a battle to only find a dead hero and a story that needs to be told.

You’ve never seen him so still before.

Luke’s always been the one with something to say, hands fidgeting to hold yours. Still, you hold his hand even if he can't feel it, still smile even if he can't see you, still whisper words of devotion even if he can't hear it. By the time you feel your father’s hands on your back and hear Percy say, “We need a shroud. A shroud for the son of Hermes,” you imagine that he’s miles away from where he lays motionless, dead weight in your grasp. Nothing can pull you away from the mantra you set to remind him that he’s yours even when he leaves again. Luke’s soul will soon journey where you cannot follow, and you whisper to him in the stillness amidst the noise, “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

When the Fates come to collect the body, their ancient hands spin around the two of you as they unweave your hold on him. You weren’t given a choice—his material body dissipates in front of your eyes and you swear you feel the tug from deep within your core as you watch them float Luke away. It’s so much different now from when he used to fly around your room with his stupid winged Converse—even the gods avert their eyes when you let out a sob that shakes the ornate hall. Hopelessly you watch, sat down on the marble and unable to move or follow—as if maybe he’d still answer to your sweet nothings, and not leave you hanging once more. You slump against your father’s side, catatonic and at a loss for words—they leave with him, floating away into the distance.

Humanity’s biggest problem and resolution has always been love—this was never a story about the lack thereof.

[august 18th; 12:00 am, death, pre-judgement? — the seven minutes after]

The path that Luke Castellan takes after he dies is most peculiar and unlike any path he’s traveled before. And yes, there have been several times that he’s come close to death—under Ladon’s claws in the Garden of Hesperides, and when he relinquished his physical self by bathing in the River Styx, but neither of those times where he’s cheated his way out can compare to the real thing.

He once read in one of Annabeth’s textbooks that there are seven minutes of brain activity that wanes in your consciousness before you die. There’s a distinct thrumming in his ears when he comes to, and Luke discovers he’s completely in the dark with no sense of direction and most importantly, no visible way out. The old him, were he still alive—would be panicking by now, short terse breaths and sweat upon his brow. Old Luke would have fidgeting hands and eyes that rocket around for an exit. But this Luke, whoever he is—whatever he is now, finds himself eerily calm. Everything glows in a vignette, and familiar scenes materialize before his vision, a kaleidoscope of color and your shrieking laughter surrounding him in the familiarity of your happiness with him—it feels like lifetimes ago. He realizes he’s smiling.

Versions of you swirl in the space he stands in, taking up space wherever he can look, wherever he turns—you’re there.

And he remembers.

Memory is a choice after all, much like love is. And no one can take that away from Luke Castellan except death itself.

The scene flickers for a moment, eyelashes fluttering against morning light peeking through the windows of Cabin 11.

It’s Luke’s first morning at Camp Half-Blood after the storm that brought him and Annabeth there. You’re standing over him with a half-beaten pillow and a menacing grin that grows as he spits out feathers. It’s his first impression of you, Kool-aid tipped hair and hands shaking with a crushed Redbull can in your other fist.

“Good. You’re still breathing. Wasn’t sure for a sec.”

A voice yells out your name and you make a run for it, barefoot and giggling and looking back at him every few steps—his breath catches in his throat again like how it did on the first day you both met.

The scenery changes and he’s sitting next to you on the dock of Canoe Lake.

“I dare you.”

“No way,” he hears himself say, and then he sees you fling algae at him in ropes, cold and slimy that it makes his voice crack, “He—ey! You’re gonna get us fired and it hasn’t even been a full day since we got the job,” he says, clearing his throat as you bite your lip.

“What’s one last hurrah?”

“You’re always gonna be Trouble, aren’t you?” he says, getting annoyed by the orange fabric that temporarily blinds him. Chuckling, you pull your shorts off and look back at him, eyes glinting in the moonlight and he can’t help but ogle at the rest of you, gulping hard. You catch him staring and he averts his eyes, looking back at the treeline to see if anyone’s come to find you both. A resounding splash echoes in the silence between you and Luke turns back to find your head bobbing visible above the water and not much else.

“I double-dog dare you, Castellan.”

He jumps in.

The dark blue of the water turns into light reflecting the pinks and purples of the sky above Montauk Point at sunset.

“We’re alive! Told you we’d be fine,” you yell, clicking your seatbelt off and jumping out of the car before Luke can even put the hatchback in park. It was his first drive anywhere—you’ve finally graduated from looping around Farm Road.

“Hey wait up!”

He calls out your name, but you’re already kicking up sand as the distance between you grows until he locks up the car and chases after you. You didn’t stand a chance, slipping and sliding in the sand as the son of Hermes quickly grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder as you scream bloody murder. When he sets you down, your arms are looped around his neck and you’re smiling against the pink and tender scar on his cheek.

“Think we can break into the lighthouse before the guards come, angelface?”

The sound of crashing waves turns into chattering cabin counselors and when Luke looks around again, he’s at the Big House, with everyone else pushing their chairs in and walking towards the door. He holds his hand out and you grab it with no words or instruction—like a key nestled within its lock, exactly where it’s meant to be.

“Last order of business, kind of…” Your dad drones from his spot near the windows. Luke tries to let go of your hand but you don’t let him, “Don’t panic,” you mutter.

“This… fraternization won't become an issue for all of us, will it?”

Everyone’s frozen near the doorway, staring at your intertwined hands. Luke clears his throat and turns toward Mr. D, “I’ll see to it that it doesn’t. Sir.”

You could almost hear a pin drop, and no one knows what to say next—not even Mr. D.

“Yeah, I’ll keep Castellan in line.”

That’s the confirmation everyone was waiting for; a mixture of groans and the clinking of drachma fill the air as Chris holds his hands out and takes his spoils of victory with a charming smirk on his face. Clarisse throws the coins at his head.

“I feel like I should take a bow or something,” Luke snickers into your ear, before placing a kiss against your temple.

You’re still in his arms and still look good in orange, but when he pulls back to look at you again, you’re both hovering above the ground near the dining pavilion. His knees are shaking when his winged Converse flap madly underneath you—a flurry of uncoordinated movement that makes you want to piss yourself.

“You’re lucky I have a strong core, babe,” he grins—and he’s thrilled at the fear on your face as you clutch onto him for dear life, one arm around his abdomen and the other around his neck, both legs latched around his waist.

“I swear to the fucking gods if you drop me, Castellan…”

His right foot jerks in a slightly different direction, making him laugh as you squeak.

“Castellan, huh? That scared, Trouble? Not gonna drop my baby.”

The wind around you whirls like a tornado as Luke tries to show off, getting higher and higher until, “LUKE!”

He catches you by the fingertips again and now there’s sand beneath your feet. You’re still spinning in his arms and his mom is singing along to a song playing on the radio you brought to Westport Beach. May claps lightly and you tug her up with a soft smile, “Come on Miss May! Take your son out for a spin.” Tugging at the damp white t-shirt you wear over your underwear, you take a seat on the picnic blanket and watch them with a smile you haven’t given Luke in years.

“Mother-son dance,” May whispers in his ear, humming a few notes of the wedding march.

He closes his eyes and soaks it all in, slightly swaying.

That thrumming is in his ears again, a steady beat against his chest and he feels it everywhere—a pounding rhythm that cannot be ignored. He opens his eyes and you’re snuggled against each other, tangled beneath the sheets. You’re still asleep and Luke just…watches you before the morning starts (whenever this is) and it all has to end. You’re breathing against his neck, lips slightly agape as warm air brushes his pulse. He moves hair out of your face and you pull him in unconsciously, skin to skin with no atom of space left between you.

Luke blinks.

You’re in your college apartment.

He blinks again.

His childhood bedroom.

Again, please.

In Cabin 12.

Please, just one last time.

You’re drooling against his neck in his tiny bunk in Cabin 11 and the noise is getting louder now—a static sound that morphs into the sound of your voice throbbing like a heartbeat, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It’s the last thing he can hear before he has to go.

“I wanna see your eyes / Is it a crime to say I still need you?” - Adrienne Lenker

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

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butterflyscribbles · 12 days ago

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Wachowski Family HC List

Part 1: The Wachowski Origins

Buckle up bc I’m going way back straight out of the gate….the Wachowski family wouldn’t exist without two certain soulmates coming together after all.

- Let’s start from the very beginning….Tom and Maddie have at least known each other since grade school. In high school, they were part of the same friend group but Maddie had been dating someone else at the time. Tom had girlfriends “come and go” as his mom put it, but was single most of senior year.

- Tom was already en route to becoming a sheriff, having it run in the family and with his other two “lunatic” brothers on their way in to very different directions, he was on the way to being the lone and youngest Wachowski left to “defend Green Hills” once his dad retired. I lowkey feel like it’s actually something he never really wanted to do. It was more of a family obligation. However, he did like helping people (and he didn’t want to go to college) that was really the biggest draw for him lol.

- Maddie was the resident biology and animal nerd in her class. Her dad was a park ranger that worked closely with Tom’s dad at the sheriff’s office, especially for hunting/fishing license issues and animal control type calls. Watching her dad work was where she developed a love for nature and decided she wanted to be a vet.

- It wasn’t until one night senior year at a house party, Maddie’s boyfriend at the time dumped her just before prom. Tom, being a close friend and the upstanding “punch first, questions later” kind of guy we know he is, started a fight with the jerk that broke her heart. He skeedaddled with her from the party before Tom’s dad showed up to break everything up. ✨That was spark #1✨ They continued talking and hanging out more after that (it was also since then Rachel has been giving Tom the side eye).

- High school graduation came and went, Maddie went off to college and Tom stayed in Green hills and started training to become a deputy. He and Maddie kept in touch even when she was off studying. When she came back into town to visit her family, they would hang out and catch up.

- Tom’s dad passed away not long after he graduated and things were a bit rough for Tom at this point. His oldest brother didn’t even show up to the funeral and his other brother didn’t help much with the process. Maddie was a beacon of light in this darker point of his life.

- One weekend while he’s out driving with her during this time, they come across a fawn by the side of the road that (very clearly) lost its mom. Tom was an emotional wreck, not wanting to leave it behind. Maddie calmly helped scoop it up in some spare blankets in the back of his car and they took it to her dad so he could find the proper wildlife rehabilitator to send it to. ✨That was spark #2✨ They started dating the next day.

- Skip ahead a bit, they’re big in love. They move into a small condo type deal together once Maddie graduates college and starts veterinary school. Tom is working his three jobs to help her pay tuition: as a police officer, part time at a local sewing shop his mom used to work at, and taking odd jobs around town mowing, doing car repairs, landscaping work. He’s exhausted, she’s exhausted, but they love each other sm….they’re married 2 years later after he proposes on a camping trip (guess who was already on Earth and witnessed the proposal but was too young to even know what it meant at the time).

- Jump again, they buy their house after Maddie has been working as a full time vet for a while and Tom is promoted to sheriff.

- Maddie’s parents are both still alive and together though her dad is retired. Her mom wrote for the Green Hills newspaper for a good while on top of taking care of her and Rachel. Tom’s mom is also still kicking. She left her job at the locally owned sewing store when Tom’s dad passed and mostly just makes her living selling crafts and vegetables from her garden at the local farmers market while also giving local children sewing lessons. Tom is doing most of the supporting for her while getting some help from his one older brother who actually got his life together a bit and got a job in insurance. He moved back to Montana, but not to Green Hills. Tom hasn’t heard from his eldest brother in over a decade.

- They’ve been living in their house for about 8 years before the events of Sonic 1. They’re “too busy for kids” but they adopt Ozzy from a litter that was dropped off where Maddie works.

- Then we all know what happens next…

#sonic movie #scu #sth #tom wachowski #maddie wachowski #scu headcanons #I should have had that tag ages ago how should I have known the brainrot was gonna be this bad #anyways part 1 of several #I love the wachowski couple sm #they give off the energy that they have just known each other forever #and that they are friends first and foremost honestly #they’ve seen some shit even before Sonic came into their lives #I’ll never have time to write all of this into a fic so take it and fly if you so desire my prettys

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tsxkkis · 7 months ago

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# tsukishima kei ‐ better for you

a/n: a request for anon that definitely took me too long to write T-T i'm terribly sorry for the delay .... also this strangely reminds me of my first ever fic on this account (which was also abt tsukki) so it's kinda silly :33

summary: tsukishima is jealous and not exactly good at hiding it.

warnings: none, pure fluff

tsukishima has been awfully quiet since you arrived at the training camp.

it's not like that was an unusual behavior from him - he was naturally a quiet, introverted person, so anyone with a basic knowledge about his personality would assume it's perfectly normal. but you knew better.

he was your boyfriend, after all. even if quiet and rather reserved, he would continuously taunt you with his snarky comments and witty remarks, almost twice as much as he would his teammates. but for the last two days or so, his demeanor changed; there was something that ticked him off, and, contrary to his beliefs, he was not good at hiding his jealousy.

figuring out the reason behind it was a no-brainer.

tsukishima adjusted his glasses as he observed yet another guy walking up to you, and he could already recite the way this conversation was about to go from memory. he stood next to yamaguchi, back resting on the outer wall of the gym, eyes staring daggers into the fukurodani jersey of the boy trying to hit on you. but of course, he didn't do a thing about it, instead opting for a low, annoyed huff.

you could see him from where you stood, and a sigh left your lips as you saw his eyes dart away from yours the moment they met, the blonde boy wasting no time in walking away to a spot where he wouldn't have to see the situation in front of him.

the boy in front of you, whose name you've found out to be komi, fukurodani's libero, kept on babbling about something, but you've stopped listening a while ago, quickly excusing yourself to follow after your boyfriend.

'wait.' you said, voice just loud enough for tsukishima to stop in his tracks, head turning around to face you, waiting for you to continue what you wanted to say. you caught up with him, eyes squinting a little as you looked up because of the sun positioned right behind his head. 'are you really jealous of all these guys?'

'no.' he rolled his eyes, a classic sign of frustration from him, almost as if he intentionally tried to show you that despite his words, he is indeed annoyed with them.

'i can clearly see that you are.' he didn't answer you this time, silence taking over as he avoided eye contact with you, acting more childish than ever. you couldn't help but smile, hand reaching out for his with a gentle squeeze. 'you know that they could never steal me from you, right?'

silence.

'oh, come on, you're sulking like a five year old baby right now.'

'says the one who acts like a baby all the goddamn time.' his remark made you crack a smile, happy that you got him to talk. 'it's annoying. and it's not like i don't trust you either. it's something different.'

'hm?'

he let go of your hand, taking a few steps forward, the setting sun hitting his face as he stared into the magine in front of him; the hill he had to run up and down at least five times that day, barely noticeable roofs of homes situated not far away.

'don't you think that at least one of them could be, you know.' you already knew what point he was trying to make, and yet hearing it from him made your heart break a little. 'better for you?'

a moment of silence passed, the chirping birds being heard from away.

'no.'

he could hear the sound of your shoes hitting the ground with each step you took towards him, your arms gently wrapping around his torso from behind, face nuzzling into his back.

'look at me, tsukki.' hearing your words, he slowly turned his head around, only to be met with your lips already on his in a sweet, short kiss. 'listen carefully, alright?'

'i'm.' kiss. 'not.' kiss. 'going.' kiss. 'anywhere.'

he couldn't help but smile at your actions, breaking out of his aloof persona for a split second, hand searching for yours to hold it tenderly.

'besides,' you added, lips curving up into a sly smile. 'none of them could give me the same level of sarcasm that i love so much.'

you continued smooching his lips, cheeks, forehead, nose, trying to cover his entire face with kisses.

'alright, alright.' he mumbled quietly, pulling you away as he adjusted his hair. 'don't be so touchy here, though. not that i don't like it, it's just-'

'i knew it!' you recognized the voice behind you immediately, and tsukishima's shocked face only confirmed your suspicions.

'let's leave the lovebirds before kei kills us with his death stare, bokuto.' another familiar voice was heard, and as you turned around, you immediately noticed the spikey black hair and kuroo's tall frame.

as they ran away, shouting a familiar rhyme of 'y/n and tsukki sitting on a tree', you couldn't help but laugh, resting your head on your boyfriend's shoulder. he didn't look half as content as you, lips in a straight line as if he just got caught doing something so utterly embarrassing he would never recover from it.

'if they continue this, everyone will know.' he mumbled, back to his usual, annoyed tone.

'look at the positives, kei.' you nudged him on the shoulder, smiling up at him. 'at least now no one will flirt with me anymore. no more frustrations for you.'

and maybe you were right.

or maybe you weren't, as he found out later, when the information of your relationship got to the ears of his overly excited upperclassmen.

taglist: @moonswolfie @wyrcan @kitsune-kita @haechansbbg @luvvrgirll @serotoninbarbz @sugaraddict301

#tsxkkis #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #karasuno x reader #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff

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jgracie · 23 days ago

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dating percy jackson ♡ headcanons (fem reader)

warnings scary quest in which percy almost dies | masterlist

Dating Percy is like dating your biggest fan, because he is. You are dating your biggest fan

It takes him a while to realise he likes you and that all the things he’d do for you aren’t just because you’re his friend, but once it finally clicks it's all he can think about

From that moment, he becomes #1 loverboy

“Percy, what are you doing?” Annabeth asked, watching as Percy frantically sifted through his many blue t-shirts. Acknowledging her presence, Percy breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled two of them out of his closet and held them up next to his face. “Gods, Annabeth, I’m so glad you’re here! Now, I’m about to go see Y/N at the beach and I need you to tell me which compliments my eyes better: the teal or the aqua."

It's very endearing and he doesn’t even try to hide it! But of course you’re the only person who doesn’t notice, thinking he just really wants to be your friend, because Percy’s nice and friendly with everyone

He follows you around everywhere trying to find out more about you so he can plan the perfect first date

You’re an Apollo kid who works in the infirmary? Percy’s first in line for Will’s first aid summer course. You harvest strawberries with the Demeter and Dionysus kids? Percy’s there before everyone else with 3 wicker baskets on each arm

Eventually, you do end up becoming really good friends because he’s just always there and really fun to talk to and super nice and good with kids and maybe he’s a little cute, you’re allowed to have cute friends!

You would’ve been teetering the thin line between friends and dating for ages if it wasn’t for Annabeth, who devises a plan to get you alone and somehow managed to get the whole camp in on it

That’s how you both ended up at the beach, Percy with a note in his jean pocket that read, “tell her or I will - A”

Turning to you, the corners of Percy’s mouth couldn’t help but lift as he watched you admire the way the waves lapped over the shore. That moment would be ingrained in his head forever, because it was the moment he fully understood he had to have you. His nerves betray him. When you ask, “what’d you wanna tell me?” Instead of saying some heartfelt confession that’d make you swoon, Percy states a simple fact: “You’re my best friend.” It turned out fine though, because you knew what it was. You felt the same way.

Once you start dating, you are practically attached at the hip. Wherever you go, so does Percy and vice versa

When dating Percy, you truly get the best of both worlds because not only is he your boyfriend, he is also your best friend and truly someone you can lean on when needed

Loyalty is his fatal flaw so expect a concerning amount of loyalty. He would find ways to justify you murdering a whole family if he had to

However, what comes with loyalty is protectiveness and jealousy. He doesn’t get that jealous because he knows that you two were literally written in the stars by Aphrodite herself, but he still can’t help but get a little jealous when he sees you with some other guy

Just kiss him a little and maybe stay the night at Cabin 3 and never speak to that guy again and he’ll be fine

Inherited motherly traits from Sally. Always checking you for cuts and scrapes after capture the flag, makes you a lunchbox before quests and then insists he goes with you to make you more food when needed and definitely not because he’s worried you won’t come back alive!

He knows you can handle yourself and all but he can’t help it. Out of everyone at camp, Percy’s your number one guy when it comes to dangerous quests

One of his biggest fears that kept him distancing himself from you when he was crushing on you was that he didn’t want you sucked into all the dangers he goes through on a daily basis. He’d rather watch you date someone ‘safe’ from afar than put you in harm’s way

You’d choose him over a literal God though, so he has no choice but to be stuck with you. Power couple!

After a really bad quest, one where he almost died, Percy sat you down at his cabin for a talk. Part of him didn’t want to tell you what happened, but he knew it’d be unfair on your end if you were left in the dark. “Look, I understand if you don’t want to stay with me. If it weren’t for Grover’s quick thinking, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me, and it’s not right for you to be stuck with a guy who’s basically friends with death. You deserve someone more sta–” You shut him up with a kiss, “Percy, when I agreed to date you, I didn’t just agree to all the good things, I agreed to the uglier parts of your life too. Sure, I was really worried while you were gone, but that’s just part of being a demigod, and it's a price I’m willing to pay for all the amazing moments we have together, so don’t even think about me leaving you.”

Anyways, he introduces you to Sally and Paul as soon as humanly possible. They already know too much about you considering you guys never met, but that’s just because Percy would rant to them about his crush on you on a daily basis

He's so incredibly happy watching you get along with his family. All of his favourite people gathered in one room <3

He also loves to see you interact with Estelle! Percy is a huge fan of kids so he can’t help but stare as you play peekaboo with his younger half-sister

Percy also introduces you to the ocean and everything about it. You liked it before, as it was beautiful and reminded you of camp, but Percy painted it in a whole new light

He’d constantly take you on trips under the sea, using his Poseidon kid powers to allow you to be able to see and breathe underwater like he does

This also means lots of making out underwater. After that one time you two got caught kissing by the Stolls suffering major consequences, he hasn’t been able to risk it

Overall, dating Percy is very fun & your relationship never ever gets boring :)

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x fem reader #percy jackson headcanons #pjo x reader #pjo #hoo #cynwrites

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sexilene · 9 months ago

Note

MORE 80s SLASHER JOHN B!! PLEASE I BEG

YESSS OFC!!! (sorry about any misspellings, ignore em lol!)

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - pinv, slight gaslighting, violence, death, spanking, drowning, dark!john b but also kinda sweet john b in a concerning way lol- ₊˚⊹

john b watched you from afar, sitting on a picnic table in the shade making yarn bracelets with some of the kids in his group, his eyes never leaving your figure for more than a few seconds. you were chatting away with one of the other counselors and a few of the little girls in your group. the little girls were teasing you and the guy, richie, by asking if you were boyfriend and girlfriend and to "kissss" each other.

"no way am i kissin' him! i happen to think that boys are pretty gross don't you think?" you smile playfully, placing your hands on your hips.

"awwe come on! i'm not gross am i?" richie pretends to be offended and places his hand over his heart, making the little girls giggle.

"mm hmm, you sure are!"

you squeal when richie suddenly lifts you over his shoulder and walks towards the shore of lake like he's going to throw you in. john b decides that's enough and jogs over before richie can throw you in.

"hey man, put her down…wouldn't want any accidents right? the nearest emergency room isn't for a few miles, and the camp hasn't got the best first aid." john b warns, squinting his eyes and tilting his head, almost like he's implying something else.

"we were just kiddin' around johnny!" richie laughs as he sets you down, your feet touching the sand again. john b clenches his jaw at the nickname and nods like he understands.

"s'alright johnbee, got him just in time!" you smile, trying to relieve the tension between the clearly upset brunette and the cocky red head.

"alright girls! how about we go see if we can use the finger paints now?" you ask the group of little girls who nod and agree, two of the girls taking your hands and leading you back up the hill, leaving john b and richie there.

the next morning, the older kid group and their counselor decide to use the canoes for a morning activity. as they make it out onto the lake one of the kid's ores smacks against something causing all the kids to look at the water. the boy in the front then points to the object, yelling out a loud "HOLY SHIT!". there, floating face up, is richie's blue, dead body, with some froth present around his nostrils and mouth.

you stand outside with the other counselors in pajamas after keeping all the kids away from the area and doing activities elsewhere. the paramedics take richie away in a body bag and your heart sinks, john b stands behind you, the warmth of his body and just the smell of him somehow calming you down a bit.

"what do you think could have happened to him?" you look up at john b with wide teary puppy eyes, worried he might have something to do with it since the…incident.

"i dunno sweetheart, he must have gone out for a late night swim, probably accidentally drowned…" he wraps his arm around your front and you bring your hand up to place over his.

"let's hope we can get through the summer without the parents pulling their kids out," he whispers.

"johnbee?"

"hmm?"

"you didn't- you know…" he just sighs and attempts to pull you back into his embrace, but you won't get any closer until he answers your question. when he only looks at you and doesn't say a word you start to walk away from him, and back to your cabin, confused and frustrated. but of course that doesn't go well with him, he won't tolerate you walking away from him like that, so he follows you and enters your cabin room behind you and shuts the door.

"lisetn to me, hey hey, look at me. i know you might still be a little scared of me but you don't need to be. okay?" he starts off gently, trying to level with you as calmly as he can be.

"ohkay…" you sigh and turn to look at him, you really don't want to have this conversation with him right now after being overwhelmed with so many things happening at once.

"i'd never do anything to hurt you, m'just trying to keep you safe that's all."

"i know…" you whisper

"good. that's why i do the things i do…i have a responsibility to watch out for these kids and when i think someone is dangerous then-"

"i don't want to hear you say it…" you interrupt him and shake your head with tears springing at your waterline. john b knows how you get when you feel conflicted or rather overwhelmed, he's seen it before when you get stressed while dealing with the kids.

"okay, alright…hey c'mere," he pulls you into a hug, his bulky body effectively enveloping you as you press your cheek to his chest.

"you really scared me that night-"

"didn't mean to bub, i promise not to do that again." he sighs, shaking his head though you can't see him.

"i really liked you."

"liked?"

"i- still do, s'just that-" you ramble.

"hey hey stop, breaaathe…breathe for me. let's do something okay? something to calm you down a little, y'gonna let me do that for you?" he soothes, bending down to meet your teary eyes. the minute you make eye contact with him you nod.

"words." he chides, needing to hear you confirm that you wanted it.

"yes, yes john b.." you whisper shyly.

"'m gonna take these off, aaand these pretty panties," he whispers gently, taking you through what he is currently doing. sliding down your little pink sleep shorts and white cotton panties, the fabrics pooling around your feet. john b then takes off his loose-fitted cropped sleep shirt and tosses it to the side, nodding his head over to your bed. he takes your hand and guides you over, taking a seat and lifting you up onto his meaty thigh.

"just gonna sit you on it and its gonna relax you alright?"

"its not gonna fit,"

"fit last time." he laughs through his nose and pulls himself out of his plaid pajama pants, you looked down at his dick, much bigger than you remembered and your cunt already began to clench around nothing. picking you up like nothing, you wrap your arms around his neck, john b impales your drippy wet cunt on his huge cock. the stretch making your eyes roll back momentarily and muffle you your cries on the skin between his shoulder and neck

"shshsh, its in, its in…" he coos, rubbing your back. "just turn your brain off bubba."

as soon as he can feel that you've relaxed and adjusted to his size he starts to move your hips back in forth with a gentle grip of his huge hands.

"i did kill riche, i had to do it to protect you baby…it's my job." you mewl at his confession and clench around his dick, earning a low groan out of him. he knew you wouldn't really register what he was telling you but at least he wouldn't feel guilty since he did just tell you the truth.

"jus' don't want you to hurt me," you whine.

"never, never…love you so much," he assures you, now using his strength to bounce you up and down slightly.

"don't gotta think about anything bub, just let me do all the work." he looks down and the bulge that presses against your lower stomach, making him hiss and squeeze the meat of your ass roughly.

"reall-really like you jombee…" you cry, tangling your fingers into the back of his hair, trying to keep yourself grounded as he bounces you on his fat cock.

"need to hear you say you love me, baby." he grunts, smacking your ass cheek harshly.

"love you, love you somuch, i really wanna cum please!" you squeal as he continues to use your sloppy wet pussy.

"i know bub, whenever you want, m'right there." john b stops bouncing you and lets you sink back down on him fully, then presses his thumb down hard on your clit. you mewl out pathetically as you cum and pulse all over him until he fills you up from just feeling you cum on him.

"fuck, so pretty, my pretty puppy." he smiles and presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wipes away the tears that happen to fall down your face.

"y'feel better now? hmm?"

"mm hmm…" still seated on him, leaking cum around the base of his dick, you hazily drop your cheek on his shoulder.

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katsu28 · 9 months ago

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i want you here

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: you finally gather the courage to ask your boyfriend if he'll move in with you (3k)

a/n: steve girlies i have returned!!! been straying away from my roots lately but i’ll always come back to my favorite guy <3

Steve was on the couch when you came home, only looking up from the cooking show he was watching when he heard the key jingling in the door.

He’d been camped out at your place for hours now, having taken the morning shift at Family Video today which meant he got off work early. He’d beelined right here, using the key you’d given him to let himself in and wait until you got home.

He found himself doing that more often than not these days, preferring to spend his time at your apartment over his own place so he could see you right when you got home. Sometimes it was just what he needed to make his day a little brighter than normal.

Sure, it was just a ten minute drive from his to yours, but those ten minutes always seemed like forever.

“Hey sweetheart!” He chirped, muting the program in favor of twisting around in his seat to face you, his arm hooked over the back of the sofa. When you only let out a vague noise in response, his smile turned sympathetic.

He patted the cushion next to him, prompting you to come over and collapse face-first onto the sofa, stretching out your sore muscles with a tired groan.

Steve’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck immediately, fingers rubbing along your shoulder blades like it was second nature. “Bad day?”

“Understatement of the century.”

“Ouch.”

“Hold me?”

“Surprised you even had to ask.” He patted his lap a few times and you sat up, curling up with your head on his thigh comfortably. When you were satisfied with your position, you gave a content sigh. “All better now?”

You nodded, shifting your focus back to his amused smile. “How was your shift? How’s Robin?”

“Oh y’know, the usual. Scanning, restocking, same thing different day,” He shrugged, hand waving in the air vaguely before coming to settle just above your heart, fingers rounding out absentminded circles against the material of your shirt. His touch radiated warmth through your entire body, making you more at ease than you’d been the entire day since you’d kissed him goodbye this morning.

Steve always had that kind of effect on you.

“Robin’s doing good, her and Nance are planning a trip to New York sometime in the summer, asked if we wanna join them. I said I’d ask you tonight, but we can talk about it another day. They’ll understand.”

“No, it’s okay. Sounds fun, we should go,” You insisted, smiling softly up at him just to see the pink bloom on his cheeks.

“Yeah?”

“I’d be completely okay with a vacation.” You must’ve sounded more tired than you meant to, because Steve frowned.

“They’re really working you hard these days, huh?”

You shrugged, letting your head loll to the side until your cheek was pressed to the soft blanket covering his lower half. Steve was concerned, you could hear it in his voice clear as day. “S’fine. Means they know I’m reliable, so if a higher position ever opens up maybe they’ll think of me.”

“As long as you’re not overworking yourself.”

“I’m okay, Stevie.”

He didn’t look like he believed you one bit, but he nodded warily, sensing that you just wanted to change the subject. So he did. “Hey, you remember my neighbor, Mrs. Anderson?”

“The one who power walks around the neighborhood every morning?”

“Yeah, her! She popped into Family Video today, and it turns out that she divorced her son of a bitch husband because he was fooling around with some floozy from his fencing class—had been for months!” He exclaimed, looking like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. You played along, raising a surprised brow at the news, more interested in the way he was telling his story rather than the story itself.

Call it creepy, but sometimes you just liked to watch your boyfriend talk.

“And he had the nerve to ask for more than his share of their money because ‘he had to start from scratch’. I mean honestly, if you’re gonna fuck up your marriage, at least have the decency to just walk the fuck away.” He continued, shaking his head with a disgusted grimace. You fought the urge to laugh at his reaction. “Anyways, she’s doing good, she’s got a date tonight with some guy she dated for a bit in high school who reconnected recently and wanted to get a good movie, so I gave her Doctor Zhivago. Seemed kinda fitting—y’know, reuniting lovers and all that.”

You snorted. “Did you seriously just use the word floozy?”

“Really? That’s all you got from my story?”

“I just didn’t know that word still existed.”

“Were you not listening to me? I might’ve just kickstarted a new relationship! I should see if Keith would let me start up a new service at the store.”

“Service? Like, you recommending movies to customers?”

“Yeah!”

“Isn’t that already technically part of your job description?”

“I mean technically, but who knows, maybe I could get a raise. A few cents, a buck or two, I dunno.” Steve was mumbling now, more so to himself than to you, rubbing a large palm against his cheek in contemplation.

You inhaled a deep breath through your nose, gearing up to ask Steve if it was okay if you took a quick nap, but one whiff of fresh laundry distracted you. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you squinted up at your boyfriend.

“What?” He asked, looking simultaneously confused and like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Did you—did you do laundry?”

Steve let out a huff of air, shoulders sagging in relief. All traces of annoyance from the former Mr. Anderson and his fencing floozy were long gone. “Yeah, I did. I figured I’d make myself useful for once, get some stuff done around here so you wouldn’t have to when you got home. I hope that’s okay.”

It was more than okay. Beyond okay, if you were being honest with yourself.

Steve had been doing that a lot recently, taking care of little things around your apartment while you were away at work. Putting clean dishes away, changing that pesky flickering light in the bathroom that you couldn’t reach, fixing a wobbly table leg. Things that, among others, you’d been too tired to take care of when you got home.

“Do you wanna move in with me?” You heard yourself asking, shifting yourself into a sitting position, knees pressing against his.

Steve’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “You want me to—you want me here?” He sounded taken by complete surprise, honey eyes wide as he blinked at you slowly.

Sure, was your name on the lease, but there were already traces of Steve everywhere in your apartment.

A collection of his hair products mixed in with your skincare on the bathroom counter, a few mugs with cheesy puns littering your collection in the cabinet. A handful of sweaters of his in the drawers of your dresser that you’d stolen and he’d never taken back.

His work schedule tacked onto the fridge with a magnet one of the kids had made for him, almost lost within the various notes he’d written you over the years. Chicken scratch and awful doodles on Post-It notes, receipts, Family Video notepads, anything he could get his hands on, then tucked into your pocket, stuck onto the bathroom mirror. Anywhere and everywhere he could, just so you’d smile and think of him.

You look really pretty today.

Do you have a bandaid? I think I scraped my knee falling for you.

Someone call the cops because I think you’ve stolen my heart.

You wanted more of him. You wanted all of him.

“Of course I want you here, Steve,” You murmured, rubbing your thumb along the ridges of his knuckles soothingly. “I wanna come home to you at the end of every day and have dinner with you every single night, breakfast every single morning. I want your toothbrush in the cup next to mine, your clothes in the closet, your weird stolen DVDs from Family Video under the TV.”

Steve’s lips parted like he was about to say something, then closed again before any words could come out.

Maybe you’d overstepped by asking him to move in. Maybe you’d been entirely misinterpreting where you were in your relationship, and he wasn’t on the same page as you, and that’s why he wasn’t saying anything.

“D’you think—is that…something you would want?” You asked hopefully, feeling a bit shy now.

“Yes.” He replied immediately, nodding so quickly his hair flopped over his forehead. “God, yes. Please.”

Your smile grew unbelievably wide at his enthusiasm. “Really?”

“Yeah. Yes, really,” He insisted, nodding again. “I’d love nothing more.”

“Well, it’s settled then. We’re gonna live together.”

He beamed, and you swore it was like pure sunshine injected straight into your veins. You’d get to see that smile whenever you wanted now. “Holy shit, sweetheart! We’re gonna live together!”

Steve moved in very soon after that, only weeks between the day you had the conversation and the moment the last box was shoved into the backseat of his car.

He dusted his hands off on his jeans, slamming the door shut with a sense of finality before making his way over to come stand next to you.

“You gonna miss this place?” You asked, tilting your head at the looming house in front of you. You’d never tell Steve, but his house always gave you the shivers. It was nice, of course, but it was too nice. Too staged, like everything was just for show, and not the place that made your Steve into the person he was now.

“Not a chance.” He replied. His arm snaked around your waist, fingers coming to twine through yours in your jacket pocket. “Not when I have you to look forward to everyday for the rest of my life.”

“That’s so fucking cheesy.”

Steve leaned more into you, bumping his hip against yours. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”

“Are you excited?”

“Do you want me to jump for joy and run around the yard to show you how excited I am? ‘Cause I will.”

“Please don’t.”

Steve stuck his tongue out at you childishly. “Party pooper.”

-------

“Dude, I thought you lived here already. You’re over here all the time anyways.” Dustin scoffed, popping a grape into his mouth. The younger boy had agreed to lend a hand in your unpacking endeavors today, though you suspected he was more here for the promise of dinner after everything was said and done. The same could be said for Eddie, who hadn’t shown up yet.

“You literally came to my house last week to use my pool?”

“Yeah, but I thought Y/N had just, like, kicked you out for the day. Like you were in the doghouse or something!” Dustin explained, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Steve squinted at him, brow furrowed. “But yeah, congratulations on the new home, welcome, whatever!”

“Babe, we should change the locks. Gotta keep the local riffraff out.” He whispered loudly, to which Dustin flipped him a playful bird. “Speaking of riffraff, where’s Eddie? I thought he’d be here by now.”

“Probably still sleeping.” Dustin shrugged, taking a seat on the couch.

“It’s the middle of the day!”

“You know him, he’s like a fucking bat. Sleeps all day, stays up all night.”

“Henderson! Language!” Steve chided, flinging a grape at the boy. It bounced off Dustin’s arm and rolled across the floor, disappearing under the coffee table. You turned your gaze on Steve, raising an expectant eyebrow at him in an expression that he recognized immediately. The grin on his face disappeared and he nodded once. “Sorry. Getting it now.”

“You’ve got him on a tight leash, I like it.”

“How do you think I lured him here in the first place?” You hummed, shooting Dustin a cheeky wink.

Steve made some sort of noise of protest from under the table, quick to insert himself back into the conversation. “Hey, I have my own free will! Lemme tell you, I—ow, shit!”

“Better watch your language there, Harrington,” Dustin snickered.

“This is my home now too, I can kick you out anytime I want!”

“No you can’t! Y/N would never let you, she loves me.”

Steve reemerged with the offending grape clutched between his fingers, glaring at Dustin. “Fifty bucks says she loves me more.”

“I’ll take that action!” Both boys turned their attention on you, waiting for you to settle the score.

You shook your head, lips pressing into an unassuming line as you raised your hands in surrender. “I’m not getting involved.”

-------

Dustin proved little help on the unpacking front of things, as did Eddie when he finally made it over, both of them too enamored with rifling through the boxes looking at everything rather than actually taking them out like they were supposed to. Steve wanted to scold them, but you’d convinced him not to with a simple kiss. He was always easy to persuade like that.

Most of the boxes had been emptied and littered around the main rooms by the time the sun set, so despite your helpers’ very unhelpful demeanor, things had gotten done anyways.

You’d ordered a few pizzas as a thanks, but Eddie had shuffled Dustin right out the door with the excuse of an emergency Hellfire meeting (which he not-so-quietly whispered was a lie, and that he wanted to give “the two lovebirds some alone time”), much to the dismay of the curly headed boy.

Missing out on free pizza was a top ten betrayal scenario for him. Maybe even a top five, but Eddie had let the door slam behind him before Dustin was able to finish that thought.

“Meals til we go to the store, I guess?” Steve offered, picking a green pepper off his slice to discard onto your plate. You were sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, Steve leaning on it across from you with his elbows propped up as he passed you every single one of his peppers and claiming your pepperoni in return.

“I have food in the fridge, y’know.”

“Oh, right, right. No yeah, I’ve seen it. Leftover takeout and a bag of shredded cheese?” He raised an amused brow, cocking his head. You scowled. “Very self sufficient, babe.”

“I’ve been meaning to go shopping!”

“And tomorrow we can. Together. Because we live together now.”

“Is that something you’re gonna be saying all the time from now on?”

“Until the end of time, sweetheart.” Fondness dripped from his tone like syrup, nearly giving you a cavity from how sweet he was being towards you.

He met you in the middle, kissing you happily in the middle of your kitchen like he’d done so many times before. Only this time it felt different, because it was now Steve’s kitchen too. His home.

-------

You were the first one awake the next morning. That was usually how weekends went when Steve was there—you’d wake up before he did, but you wouldn’t rouse him from his deep slumber. You usually just watched him sleep for a bit, in the least creepy way possible.

It was just…Steve was so pretty in the mornings, and today was no exception. Sunlight poured through the curtains, washing over his sleeping form in a golden glow that made him look goddamn heaven-sent.

Sometimes you couldn’t even believe how lucky you were to have the privilege of loving him.

Steve’s arms were tucked under his pillow, face smushed into it and hair a fluffed up mess, and there might’ve even been a little bit of drool gathered at the corner of his mouth. You thought he was pretty nonetheless.

You must’ve been staring a little harder than you meant, because Steve inhaled a deep breath, sniffling a few times before blinking awake slowly. He yawned big and loud, flipping over onto his back with a sigh.

“Well good morning, roomie,” He hummed, voice heavy with sleep. He smiled lazily at you, reaching out to trace a line along your arm, past your elbow, your wrist, all the way down to your hand until his fingers were laced tight with yours. “Y’know, it’s not nice to stare.”

“That’s your fault for being so easy on the eyes.”

“Oh yeah? I could say the same for you.” Steve’s grin only grew bigger, even though he probably couldn’t really see you clearly without his glasses on. “Okay, wait. Hold on, hold on, I can’t see you properly. Where’s my—'' He felt around the bedside table blindly for the aforementioned glasses, nearly knocking them to the floor before grabbing them and shoving them onto his face.

He shook his head, blinked a few more times to get used to the change, then focused back on you. “There you are. Hi, my beautiful roommate.”

You swiped the pillow out from under Steve’s head, swinging it at him so it thumped against his chest. “Call me your roommate again and I’ll kick you out of my bed.”

“Jesus, ow—did you not hear the part where I called you beautiful?!” Steve yelped, snatching it out of your hands and jamming it back under himself. “Plus, I think you mean our bed now.”

“You’ve already slept in it enough times to call it yours too, even if you hadn’t moved in.” You pointed out. Steve sighed loudly. “What?”

“You’re supposed to say yes, I love you, my favorite person in the world.”

“I love you, my favorite person in the world.”

“Well, now it feels like you’re just mocking me.”

“Maybe I am.”

“That’s rude. Anyways, breakfast? I’ll make one of those fancy egg scramble thingies you like.” Steve was already swinging his legs out of bed before you responded, because he knew you’d say yes. He lifted his arms high over his head, stretching out his stiff muscles with the loudest of groans before letting his hands slap back down into his lap.

When you didn’t reply, he turned around. “There you go again with the staring! Honestly, if I’d known you’d shamelessly ogle me this much, I would’ve thought twice about moving in, you creeper.”

“You know you love it,” You sing-songed, aiming a teasing smile over at him. “Now go make me breakfast, roomie!”

“God, you were right. That does not have a nice ring to it.”

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