#the fond yet pitying smile.

[marquezian]

Dovi reacts to Valentino refusing to shake Marc's hand in Misano, 2018

[indecisivemuch]

Lovesick & Lovelorn

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).

Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.

Word count: 3.3k

You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn. 

Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.

At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.

Hence, the letters.

In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.

You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.

“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.

“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.

“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.

After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.

As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”

“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.

Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.

“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”

“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.

Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.

Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.

You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.

The box…where is the box?

You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.

“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.

“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.

“Yes, that one.”

“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”

Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.

“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.

“Listen, Luke—”

“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.

“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.

“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”

“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.

“Nope.”

“...So we’re ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.

“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”

“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.

“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.

“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.

You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.

“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.

However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.

You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.

You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading: 

‘Dear Y/N,

This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.

You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer. 

Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.

I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.

You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:

The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.

2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.

The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.

It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.

Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.

I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you. 

In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it. 

It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.

Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.

If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.

Sincerely,

Luke Castellan’

Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.

“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.

“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.

Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.

“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.

“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.

“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.

“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips. 

Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids. 

You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.

You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.

--------------------

masterlist

Join my Luke Castellan taglist

taglist: @nininehaaa @perseus-jackass @tanifsblog @bubbly0 @hinata7346

[gay-dorito-dust]

(Idk if ur rq are open bc I can't find any indication of it being, but I hope it is and if it isn't km sorry and h can just ignore this until they are!!)

Maybeee bat boys x reader who zones out a lot and tends to make faces according to what she's thinking abt. Like a smile or frown. And sometimes when they ask her what's up she's all secretive and what not.

Thank you!!

I dunno if I did this right but here ya go!

Dick makes a game out of it and tries to guess what you were thinking about.

Even if you don’t tell him why you’re smiling or making a face of thought, he is surprisingly good at being able to figure it out regardless, but for every expression he gets wrong you’d have to give him double the kisses for the ones he gets right to make up for it.

He loves watching your face contort like a ventriloquist through a rapid fire of emotions depending on what your mind has decided to remind you of, and today it was the memory of Hayley in her Halloween costume of Nightwing, just to match with Dick in his Nightwing suit as he prepared to enter the bloodhaven annual Nightwing contest.

Basically a contest where people deduce if anyone had a similar ass shape to Nightwing himself, a contest you find ridiculous but the imagine of Hayley in her Halloween costume was the sweetest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on, that you couldn’t help but smile widely at.

You had albums full of Hayley in her Halloween costume with Dick photobombing in the background.

‘What’s on that pretty little mind of yours sweetheart?’ Dick would often ask.

‘Something silly.’ You’d reply with on the odd occasion as to keep him guessing, finding his attempts fun and only giving him pity kisses when he got a majority of them wrong. He had only got a handful right before but on all the other occasions he’s fails spectacularly.

‘Something silly like the time I lost the nightwing contest to Jason that one time?’ He answers wrongly but you couldn’t help but give him a pity kiss for being somewhat right but wrong simultaneously.

‘Sure darling.’ You’d say as you went back to zoning out on Hayley in her Halloween costume while dick burrows his face into your neck, murmuring about how of all people did Jason won the contest when they look nothing alike before going on about how Jason was a brick shit house in comparison to his muscular yet flexible body.

You’ll have to give him more pity kisses to ease his bruised ego by saying he wins all the Nightwing contests in your eyes. When in reality Hayley wins them all just for the fact of being adorable.

Damian found it weird at first for your face to be expressive, believing that it would make you an easy target for others to take advantage of.

Now however he finds it to be a way of expressing how you actually felt in comparison to the words that escape your mouth. He often discouraged zoning out as it would lead to unfavourable outcomes, but when you zone out and your face becomes soft Damian couldn’t help but find himself looking at you with a soft expression of his own.

‘What are you think about my beloved?’ He’d ask you as he hugs you from behind, resting his head upon your shoulder.

‘Nothing that you would find investing my love.’ You replied softly as the fond smile on your face grew the more you thought about the one time Damian chased Titus throughout the mansion because the Great Dane has somehow stole his robin suit and wouldn’t let go.

Damian kisses your shoulder. ‘Are you sure it’s not something I should be concerned about?’ He’d then ask.

You smile softly. ‘Not at all dami, just a funny thought is all.’ You told him while moving your head to kiss his forehead as though to calm his own thoughts. He hums, not believing you for a second from the mischievous glint in your eyes but was more than willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, just because he adored you so much.

‘As you wish my treasure.’ Your thoughts were your thoughts and Damian wouldn’t pry into them unless you wanted him to, so he just watched your expression carefully and deduced what you were feeling and link it to whatever memory would gain an happy, fond expression and leave it at that.

Jason loves your expressive face, he really does and will playfully pester you about what you were asking a face at while softly pinching your sides as you giggled.

Jason loved watching you as you zone out, perhaps reminiscing about a recent memory or other, and watching your face show how you felt about that particular moment.

‘Whatcha thinking about chipmunk?’ He’d ask from his place on the kitchen counter that he chose to admire you from. ‘Was it about little old me?’ He’d then ask cheekily as you playfully groan, shoving a hand to his face and pushing him away.

‘As if.’ You’d reply before walking away but Jason will continue to pester you about what you were thinking for the rest of the day. He’s just a little shit that you’ve come to love more then anything. Your thoughts were more than not occupied by how comfortable he had gotten with you over the course of your relationship and how happy you were for him.

Though you’d never say such a thing in front of him as he’ll use it against you however he could while giving you the softest, most beloved look upon his gorgeous face. Jason was your weakness and the only thing that you always thought about whether it be his autopsy scars, his white ruff of hair that you found immensely adorable and his plush lips that you want to kiss constantly.

Jason is more then content in just watching your face, but don’t be surprised that he kisses your furrowed brow when he sees your face become troubled, he wants his sweetheart to be happy not troubled because that’s what you deserve. You don’t need words to describe how happy you were for Jason to be able to read the emotion crossing your face, and Jason was more than happy to be of reassurance for when you needed it.

Bruce is amused whenever you made a face at something, or nothing in particular.

Like Damian he views it as a way of expressing your inner most feelings towards something or someone without having to vocalise it. It intrigues him as it’s not often that he comes across someone who wears their emotions across their face like you, after all Gotham if filled with some of the most guarded people to ever exist, him included.

It’s fascinating but even he got a little curious when you were smiling a little too widely one day, silently chuckling to yourself as you tried to get ready for bed.

‘What is making you laugh my dear.’ Bruce would ask as he sets aside his novel, moving to his side to look at you while the hand at your waist drew soothing patterns into your skin.

‘Nothing.’ You said as you chuckled.

‘Are you sure it’s nothing? Seems like you might be reminiscing of the time at the iceberg lounge where I mistakenly striped down to my boxers and tabletop danced.’ Bruce replied and all you could do is look at him with a somewhat shocked expression, you knew he was good but you kept forgetting just how good he was at deducting it always caught you off guard.

‘How-‘ you began.

‘Detective remember.’ Bruce chuckled slightly as he kissed your forehead.

‘But that was too specific of a memory for you to guess correctly.’ You rebutted, wanting to know how he knew about that particular memory.

‘It’s not too difficult for me to differentiate between the facial expressions you have towards each and every time you zone out my dear, so while it maybe impossible to believe but to me it’s as easy as breathing.’ Bruce replied as he brought you into his chest. He really did take the time out of his day to memories and learn the smallest of differences between your facial expressions, so much to the point where could tell whether the thing you were zoning out on was a good memory or not.

‘I’m not sure whether to be flattered or not.’ You murmured to yourself as you rested again his strong chest, tracing the many, many scars it possessed with featherlight touches and affection in the form of small kisses pepper against them.

Bruce only tightens his hold on you and kisses the top of your head as he hums. ‘Flattered preferably as the expression you make is sweet and warm.’ He tells you with his voice heavy with sleep.

‘Flattery it is.’ You said sluggishly as you cuddled yourself into his chest, clinging onto him for dear life as he kept you close, presenting the door his back out of his need to keep you safe and secure.

[suzukiblu]

"Lex Luthor's latest character flaw" poll winner, "deciding he wants grandbabies and giving Robin a cloning lab about it". Behold, a new WIP strikes!!

“What,” Tim says, staring blankly at the brightly-lit and airy sunroom full of very obvious cloning technology in the very expensive penthouse that Lex Luthor’s bodyguards just dragged a handcuffed Red Robin and Spoiler into after kidnapping them straight off patrol in the Diamond District in the middle of an active crisis situation with the League of Assassins and disabling all their tech and every single one of their trackers six and a half hours ago, down to the bastardized Kryptonian-tech ones in their back molars and two more in both of their suits that Tim didn’t even know existed, plus the one he put in Steph’s collar that she didn’t know existed. Babs is probably just about feral by now. Bruce is definitely feral by now. 

And Lex Luthor is drinking what appears to be a neon purple protein shake out of a rocks glass while sitting at a neatly-arranged desk in the center of the sunroom lab, looking idly bored and scrolling through whatever’s on his phone with his free hand. 

Alright then, Tim thinks carefully. 

“There you are, I was starting to wonder if I’d gotten al Ghul riled up for nothing,” Luthor says, barely glancing up from his tablet. 

“. . . which al Ghul,” Tim asks with wary dread. 

“All of them,” Luthor says, setting down his tablet to give him a pleasant smile. 

Well, now Tim knows why nobody’s dropped in a skylight to rescue them yet. And also why half of Gotham is currently on fire. 

“Uh,” Steph says, glancing around the sunroom lab. “So like, lead-lined glass in here, then, or . . . ?” 

“We’re in Connecticut, so no,” Luthor replies dismissively. “Anyway, the Boy Scout always gets suspicious of too much lead in one place. Which I personally find darling, since anyone in Metropolis without at least a lead-lined and soundproofed bedroom is essentially asking for Kryptonian voyeurs, whether intentionally or not on said Kryptonians’ parts. Also, privacy laws exist for a reason. As do patents, copyrights, attorney-client privilege, HIPAA . . .” 

“Connecticut?” Steph repeats incredulously. “What the frick is in Connecticut?” 

“Currently, us,” Luthor replies matter-of-factly. “Hope, Mercy, do me a favor and go check the security systems manually, just in case any invasive species of vermin have gotten into them. Also, yes, there is kryptonite, and no, there is actually much more than you’re theorizing.” 

“You have literally no idea how much kryptonite we’re theorizing,” Steph says as the bodyguards both leave with an affirming nod. Luthor gives her a pitying look, then turns his chair a few degrees towards Tim. Tim immediately expects the inevitable threat or ultimatum, and braces himself for–

“I’d apologize for all the fuss, but I don’t actually care about inconveniencing you and don’t see the point in pretending I ever would,” Luthor informs him. Tim stares blankly at him again. What is even happening right now? “Now then, what are your intentions in regards to ‘Supernova’, as I hear someone’s started calling himself now. ‘Themself’? I’m not sure if ‘Supernova’ is meant to be gender-affirming or more a ‘too old to stick with ‘Superboy’ but there are already three ‘Supermen’ active and the whole, you know, general stubborn individualism they’re so fond of. Or ‘he’s’ so fond of. Whichever."

Tim stares at him. 

“Is this supposed to be a trap for Supernova or a shovel talk for me?” he asks, because a) he’s not telling Lex Luthor anything about Kon’s gender or personal choices that Kon hasn’t publicly stated, and b) only Lex Luthor would actually kidnap two active vigilantes in the middle of a crisis he’d apparently pre-arranged to give a–well, no, Bruce would also do that, definitely. But this is not a Batman talk, either way. 

Batman’s “talks” all involve tests, for one thing, so actually so far this is an improvement. 

“It’s an engagement present,” Luthor says pleasantly. 

Tim’s brain crashes, then does the slowest reboot of his life. He’s recovered from concussions faster, he’s pretty sure. 

“They’re . . . not engaged, though?” Steph says skeptically. “Or, like, even dating?” 

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively.

[saetoshi]

i know who my first call will be to — sae misses home more than he thought he would

Itoshi Sae’s heart stays behind in Spain whenever he leaves for overseas matches.

An absurd notion, most certainly. Ridiculous, in every sense that exists to the word. So unbelievable, in fact, that he still has a hard time believing it himself.

Nevertheless, it remains the only explanation behind the ache in his chest whenever he goes to sleep in an empty hotel bed. It’s why his meal times are dull and monotonous; why he finds himself pushing past his bedtime to remain glued to his phone, listening to you recounting your day.

Sae isn’t sure if you know it — how he desperately yearns to remain by your side. And if you do, you’re good at hiding it (he likes to think it’s for his sake).

His grip on his phone tightens just enough, a soft hum rumbling in his throat as he absentmindedly agrees with something you said.

When you lean closer to the screen, Sae nuzzles into his pillow, holding it tight as he pretends it’s you instead. You cup your chin with your hand, looking away as you trail off mid-sentence.

“I miss you,” he says, quiet and soft and so, so unlike himself, filling the faintest gap of silence.

Your eyes flit back, meeting his own through the screen. Sae has to strain to catch the soft exhale that leaves your lips. Then, you smile — gentle and (somehow) pitying at the same time.

“You’ll be home soon enough,” you say, your tone full of warmth.

“I want to be home now,” he replies, almost petulant as the pillowcase slightly muffles his words. His gaze softens when you do. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” you whisper, lightly poking the camera in a manner that has him instinctively scrunching up his nose. You tilt your head to the side, studying half of his face as best you can through a phone.

“My flight back is on Saturday,” Sae says, studying your face in return.

“I know. Want me to pick you up?”

“I land around midnight,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to keep you up—”

“Sae.”

The tips of his ears burn, embarrassment painting his cheeks red when your eyes meet. After a beat, he huffs in complaint, his brows furrowing. Still, your gaze softens; and he melts almost instantly.

He sniffles, lightly shifting onto his side. “I want you to pick me up from the airport,” he clarifies, trying to will a little firmness into his voice.

“Hm,” there’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest, fluttering and clinging to every corner at your soft hum. It further roots itself into him when you grin. “I’ll think about it.”

“What’ll it take for you to say yes?” he asks, trying to bite back a smile. He nuzzles into his pillow when you lean back, pretending to be deep in thought.

God, he misses you so bad. He misses being near you with every bone in his body.

“A kiss, maybe. If you want.”

Sae rolls his eyes, fondness buzzing in his chest. “I thought you were going to be more ambitious than that.”

You shrug, nonchalant, “I’ll max out your card when you get home.”

“Mm.” Sae rolls onto his other side, switching his phone to his free hand. “That sounds more like you,” he mumbles, soft.

The corners of his eyes crinkle when you guffaw, quickly defending yourself against his claim. His expression softens impossibly so — he’s sure the press would have a field day if they saw him like this. (Part of him thinks he wouldn’t care if they did; you’re the reason behind it, anyway).

“I wanna go home.”

“You’re staying in France for, like, two more days. You’ll be fine, Sae.”

He rolls his eyes, picking at the edges of his phone case. “Have you washed the bedsheets yet?”

“Yesterday,” you reply, absentminded. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Sae murmurs, hushed. “Did you use the detergent I like?”

“Yeah?”

He makes a soft noise, “I hope you know I’m collapsing on our bed when I get home.”

“I don’t—”

“And I’m bringing you down with me.”

A soft, amused huff leaves his lips at your expression. His eyes narrow just a little, the action fond and affectionate in nature. When you sputter, Sae scrunches up his nose. He wishes he could kiss the frown off your lips.

“Whatever,” you grumble, softly clicking your tongue. “You’re lucky I miss you.”

“I miss you more,” Sae whispers, soft and gentle and so, so unlike himself. He supposes his demeanor is your fault — his heart turned to mush the moment he gave it to you. The thought is stupid and utterly asinine, truly.

Still, Sae doesn’t mind. He believes it more and more, letting it take root in his soul every time you brighten up at his tender, ‘I love you’s.

[d-targaryenshoe]

So Entirely Bridgerton - Benedict Bridgerton

Word Count: 1031

Summary: A woman becomes with child, yet the child's father might feel unsatisfied at times, will he not?

Benedict Bridgerton had never been one to do things by halves, and this included annoying you.

From the moment you met, it was clear that Benedict had an irrepressible, almost childlike energy that he often directed towards you, much to your chagrin.

Now, as you were well into your pregnancy, Benedict's antics had only increased in both frequency and creativity.

"Honestly, Benedict," you sighed one sunny afternoon, reclining on the chaise lounge in your sitting room, "Can you not find something to do?"

You rubbed your swollen belly absentmindedly, your expression a mixture of exasperation and affection.

Benedict, who was attempting to balance a spoon on his nose, looked at you with a wide grin.

"Who else should I annoy if not my wife?" he quipped, causing the spoon to clatter to the floor, making him sigh.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Perhaps the staff, or better yet, one of your brothers?" you suggested, picking up your embroidery and resuming your work.

"But they don't react quite like you do, my love," Benedict replied, coming to sit beside you.

He placed a hand on your belly, feeling the baby kick. "Besides, I'm doing my duty as a husband. Keeping you entertained and distracted."

"Entertained? More like exasperated," you muttered, though you leaned into his touch.

The truth was, despite Benedict's constant mischief, you loved him dearly.

His playful nature was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place, even if it did drive you to the brink of madness at times.

Benedict's eyes sparkled with mischief as he kissed your temple. "You married me knowing full well what you were getting into," he reminded you. "A Bridgerton through and through."

You laughed softly, your annoyance melting away. "Yes, I suppose I did," you admitted. "But right now, what I need more than anything is some peace."

Benedict sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the chaise. "Peace? How dreadfully boring," he lamented, though he gave you a fond look. "Very well, my dear. I shall endeavor to be the model husband for the remainder of the afternoon."

"I'll believe it when I see it," you teased, but you appreciated his effort.

Benedict might be a handful, but he was also incredibly loving and devoted.

His heart was always in the right place, even if his methods were bizarre.

For a while, Benedict did his best to remain still and quiet, but it was a struggle for him.

You watched him with a mixture of amusement and pity. You knew how hard it was for him to suppress his natural exuberance.

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Benedict could bear it no longer.

"Would you like to take a walk in the garden?" he suggested suddenly, sitting up. "The fresh air might do us both some good."

You considered the idea. A walk did sound nice, and it would give Benedict an outlet for his restless energy.

"Alright," you agreed, setting aside your embroidery. "But no running off ahead and leaving me behind. You'll stay by my side."

"Of course, my love," Benedict agreed readily, offering you his arm. "Lead the way."

You made your way outside, the warm afternoon sun casting a golden glow over the lush gardens.

Benedict kept his promise, walking slowly and steadily beside you, his hand never leaving yours.

You strolled among the flowers, enjoying the peace and tranquility.

"You know," you said after a while, "I do appreciate your efforts to keep me entertained. But sometimes, I just need a little space."

"I understand," Benedict said, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I only want to make you happy."

"You do," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "You always do. Even when you're driving me mad."

Benedict laughed, a sound that was full of love and joy. "And you, my dear, make me the happiest man in the world," he said, stopping to kiss you gently. "Even when you're scolding me."

You smiled, feeling a surge of affection for your husband. "Well, it's good to know we're equally matched in that regard," you said.

You continued your walk, enjoying each other's company and the beauty of the garden.

Benedict's energy was still palpable, but he channeled it into more subdued activities, pointing out different flowers and recounting amusing stories.

You found yourself laughing more than you had in days, grateful for your husband's irrepressible spirit.

As you rounded a corner, you came upon a bench nestled beneath a large oak tree.

"Shall we sit for a while?" Benedict suggested, guiding you to the bench.

You nodded, grateful for the rest. As you sat together, Benedict wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

"This is nice," you said softly, resting your head on his shoulder. "Just the two of us, enjoying the moment."

"It is," Benedict agreed, kissing the top of your head. "And it's a moment I'll cherish."

You sat in companionable silence, the sounds of the garden enveloping you.

You closed your eyes, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. Benedict's presence was a comfort, his love a constant reassurance.

"You know," you said after a while, "I think our child is going to have a lot of fun with you as their father."

Benedict chuckled. "I certainly hope so," he said. "I plan to be just as annoying to them as I am to you."

"Poor child," you said with a mock sigh. "They won't stand a chance."

"Or perhaps they'll be just like me," Benedict said with a grin. "And then you'll have two of us to deal with."

You groaned playfully. "Heaven help me," you said, though the thought filled you with warmth. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

You stayed in the garden until the sun began to set, casting a warm, golden glow over everything.

As you made your way back to the house, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you.

Despite Benedict's antics, you knew you were incredibly lucky to have him.

He was your partner, your confidant, and the love of your life.

[coolyiooo]

BSD Men : Hooking Up As Enemies/ Rivals

Pairings: Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Atsushi, Chuuya, and Sigma

❗WARNINGS❗: SMUT, MDNI, blindfold, scratching, degrading, praise, biting, pulling, breeding kink, whimpering, moaning, cock warming, overstimulation, choking, etc

🖤DAZAI 🖤

You never liked Dazai. If you were being honest the only thing you liked about him was his looks. Dazai was annoying, sneaky and treated you like shit which made the thought of him disgusting. He was never too fond of you either, yet he also found you pretty attractive. Thus you both somehow found yourselves having sex.

Dazai was on top of you with his cock thrusting deeply into you. He hit every sensitive part of you skillfully which made it hard for you to quiet your moans. Your wet, tight cunt made him grip onto the bed sheets. He didn't think you'd feel this fucking good and it was almost like you were made for his cock.

He was panting slightly "Squeezing me so tightly? And I thought you hated my guts ngh~ but now I'm literally in them~" he smirks

You felt embarrassed by his words and decided to flip yourself over to jump on his cock. You felt better seeing him beneath you and be in a more vulnerable position, but his smirk didn't go away

He put his hands on your hips and looked down to see his cock rub in and out of your tight pussy "Heh~ you look good jumping on my cock like a desperate whore"

"Shut up, It's because you weren't doing that good of a job so I had to take control" you struggled trying not to moan

"Is that so? Hah~ then let me make it up to you since I'm oh so sorry" He flipped you over again, this time pinning your arms above your head as he thrusted deeper into you making you slip out a loud moan

He smiles "You just didn't like me on top, huh? You didn't like how good my cock feels?" He teases you

You looked away from embarrassment and quietly said "Too.. deep- mmn~"

He smiles "Just be honest and say nobody has ever made you feel this good~"

You gave him a fiery look "Mmn~ Shut up and just fuck me"

He didn't like this attitude of yours and decided to just suddenly cock warm himself.

"Idiot, what are you doing?" You asked

"I just thought it'd be nice to hear you beg~ "

"Uh- there's no way" you gave him a disgusted look

He then does 4 deep, fast thrusts into you making you want more and whimper "Come on, tell me you want it~" he says in a low voice and a smirk

You grumbled and looked away. It took you a couple seconds to say something "please...don't stop"

"Hmm? Say it louder~" his smirk becomes wider

You looked at him with an angry look holding back from slapping him. You hate to admit it, but he really was the only man who's ever actually pleased you "please don't stop. I want more" you said trying not to sound too vulgar

He smiles and begins to fuck you relentlessly. His cock hitting deep inside you while throbbing. You both gasp a moan. His grip on your wrists tightened more as you arched your back. Your breasts becoming more perky and drawing his attention

"S-shit hah~ I guess your good with at least one thing" he groans

You started to smirk "Your throbbing so much mmn~ do I make you feel that good~?" You taunted

He then puts a hand around your throat as a way to shut you up, making you tightened more around him

He pants "Your about to cum aren't you?"

"Not even close" you managed to say

He tilts his head "Then this shouldn't be a problem for you"

His thrusts become animalistic and rough, hitting your g-spot which felt like every millisecond. You felt a huge wave of pleasure wash over you and felt your climax coming rapidly "AAH~! F-fuck- w-wait~!"You then came on his cock as you moaned loudly. Twitching and clenching around him.

He smiled while his cock throbbed "look at that~ cumming all over my cock? Ngh~ Didn't you just say I wasn't any good?"

You couldn't even form a sentence and just moaned loudly from over stimulation. Your pitiful moans drove him over the edge. He hated how amazing you felt and how he found his release so quickly "Fuck... Ngh~ fucking shit~!" He moans

With a couple more thrusts, he pulled out of you and came all over your body with a loud groan. His cum was on your stomach, chest, and face. You almost wanted to smirk at how much he came from having sex with you, but you were still calming down from your own climax, too out of breath to make a snarky comment

He smirks while panting "You look prettier with my cum all over you"

You looked at him "I liked you better when you were moaning loudly like a little bitch"

He laughs "That's rich coming from you~"

"Fuck you"

He chuckles "Feel free to come back anytime if you want more~"

"Why on earth would I ever want more from you? Oh I see.. it's you who wants more"

"Only temporarily obviously... Don't act like you don't like the idea of it, princess~"

💚RANPO💚

You and Ranpo almost had the same relationship as him and Poe. They're rivals yet enjoy each other's company. Like Poe you tried to find ways to surpass Ranpo but instead you try to become a better detective. You know it might be impossible, but it's your goal. It was like you and Ranpo were constantly in a competition without hating each other completely. You actually quite liked eachother, but you didn't want to admit that.

One night things escalated and one thing led to another.You were both on a bed as you rode Ranpo's cock. His hands were stuck to your waist and your hands were on his chest to keep you balanced. You were both in pure bliss, moaning and whimpering from the sweet sensation.

"Yea~ so good~ mmn~! More~" Ranpo moaned while throwing his head back

"Its good to know that I can at least put you in this state- mmn~! I'm the only one who can make you like this~" you teased

He just kept whimpering. His hands that were on your waist were trembling from ecstasy. You softly chuckle "Who knew that the world's greatest detective could be such a whimpering mess~"

He slowly starts to smirk "And no other man has ever felt this good huh~? Hah~ It pretty obvious"

You were taken aback from his blunt words. "Ah~! I can say the same when I'm also the only one who's made you like this~" he says while smiles

He sat up by using his elbows to get a better look at you. His tone was deep as he teased you "Don't act so high and mighty~ ngh~!"

You scoff and look down. You hated how right he always was, but then an idea came to your mind. You realized that if there's one thing that makes Ranpo weak it's praise, so you decided to use that against him

You spoke "Your one to talk.. your lucky you feel amazing~"

You saw Ranpo gulp and blush. He smiled softly from the comment. You decided to keep going. You made him sit up to wrap your arms around him and to moan in his ear. Your hand gently pulling on his hair "Your doing such a good job~ ngh~! Such a good boy~ ah~! I can't get enough of you~ mnn~! Your so big and deep~"

You felt his cock throb violently. His whimpers became more loud. It turned you on how you were becoming too much for him to handle. He laid his chin on your shoulder while moaning uncontrollably.

You chuckled gently "The simplest words are enough to drive you crazy~ it's so cute~ yet pathetic" you kissed his ear, making him twitch

He chuckle gently while looking at you "What's pathetic is that you did this expecting me to beg for more of you in the future, but the truth is it's you who will beg for me"

You looked at him offended until he spoke again "Don't be so upset it's not like I'm complaining- ngh~! Not one bit~!"He whispers in your ear "You do feel amazing~ this is the best I've ever felt"

His praise made you crazy. Your cunt twitched as you whimpered against his neck. He smiles "I see even the simplest words make you crazy too"

You began to jump faster on his cock. Both of you moaned louder as you both felt your orgasms coming quickly "Y-yeah~ I'm so close~ i-im going to- ah~! So close~!" Ranpo moaned

"Me too~! Mmn~! Keep going~!"

You both held onto eachother tightly. The sensation was undescribable and incomparable to anything you both have ever felt in your lives. With a few deep, fast thrusts. Ranpo whimpered extremely loudly as he came inside you. His whole body trembling an insane amount. His whimper instantly made you cum with him. Your cunt tightly squeezing the cum out of him and covering his cock with your cum.

While still holding onto eachother you both laid limp onto the bed. Your head on his chest. You could hear his heart beat rapidly. You were both panting heavily and slowly becoming sleepy

"We can do this again tomorrow" Ranpo said in a soft voice

You looked at him shocked but deep down you were happy. He smirks "I already knew you were going to ask so"

You pushed yourself off him "Fuck off"

He laughs while playfully poking your cheek over and over again "Just admit it! your obsessed with me~"

You slapped his hand away while blushing "Fuck you!"

💜FYODOR💜

Your from the ADA and somehow you've found your enemy to be attractive. You hated yourself for it, but the heart wants what it wants. You and Fyodor had an interesting relationship. He too also found you attractive and fascinating, but that didn't stop you from trying to put the guy in jail or him trying to eliminate you.

One night you were fed up and it lead you to finding him in the middle of the night for a hookup. He gave in easily which surprised you, but then again nobody really knows Fyodor, maybe he only agreed because it was part of some plan he has.

You were both on a bed. Fyodor was on top of you as he heavenly fucked you. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands on your hips. If he really wanted to, he would kill you in one second, but you just felt too good he couldn't bring himself to do it. His cock hit all your sweet spots and your wet, tight cunt perfectly rubbed his dick.

Your soft moans were music to his ears"My, my, someone sure is enjoying themselves, hm~?" Fyodor smirks

You clenched his hair "Your one to talk- ah~ your twitching so much agh~ I don't think any woman has ever touched you"

"hmm~ I don't sleep around like you, dear~"

Your eyebrows furrowed "I'm not a slut- mmn~" you moaned while arching your back

He chuckles "It seems like you are for me~ coming to my door and begging like one ah~"

You grumbled "Shut up- mph~"

He then used his thumb to rub your clit. You moaned louder and instinctively wrapped your legs around his body to push him deeper inside you, making you tighter "Your really clamping down ngh~ do I make you feel that good~?" He teases

You looked away in embarrassment "Use your words" he whispers in your ear tauntingly

You didn't respond. He shrugs his shoulders "If that's how you want to play, then..." His thrusts became faster and rough. His cock hitting deep inside you and feeling amazing. You moan louder. He tried to hide his moans and all you felt was his cock throbbing more.

You felt your climax coming quickly"I- I'm gonna- ah~! slow d-down~!" You held onto his shoulder tightly Just as you were about to cum, Fyodor pulled himself out. You looked at him confused

He smiles sinisterly "Beg for it, dear~ just like how you did earlier today"

You scoffed "You really think I'd beg for you?"

"Judging by the way your body quivers, and how you wrap your arms and legs around me. I'd say you will"

Your eye twitched. He brought his face coser to yours. Your foreheads almost touching He tilted his head to the side slightly "No man has ever made you feel this grand~"

You chuckle "I bet you didn't even think sex would feel this good, mudak"

(Translation: asshole )

"Hm? I guess we're done here then" he was getting up to leave, but you grabbed his wrist. His eyes looking at your face that was in defeat

You grumbled as you looked down "Please..Fuck me. Please don't stop"

He held your chin to make you look at him "Why should I?"

"B-because... It feels good" you said trying not to sound disgusted

He smiled widely. All of a sudden he plunged his cock inside you again. You both moaned in satisfaction from the pleasure of being one again. He continues his fast, rough pace. Somehow the pleasure being more intense than before. You loudly moaned from the sensation. You felt your orgasm approaching again

"Ngh~! look at you screaming for me~ let's do it together shall we?" Fyodor grunts

You couldn't form sentences. The more Fyodor looked at the state he's put you in, the faster he felt his climax coming. You both couldn't hold on any longer from the pleasure

He gripped your hips harshly "Ngh~! T-trakhni menya~" he grunted before he came deep inside you

(Translation: Fuck me)

The instant you felt your cunt being filled by his hot cum, you came with him while moaning. Your bodies were only washed over by ecstacy. Twitching and breathing heavily was all you two could do. He looked down to your cum filled cunt "Kak chudesno.. taking it all in" he groans softly

(Translation: how wonderful )

A few seconds after he said that, he pulled out of you and plopped next to you trying to catch his breath. You looked at him while panting "Don't look so pleased.. you look pathetic when you cum"

He chuckles and smirks at you "If I recall, you were the one that was begging for me twice tonight. Seems hypocritical, don't you think?"

You looked at him irritated. You knew he was right. You protested "Well this is the first and last time we'll ever do this"

He got closer to your face and in a deep voice, he said "unfortunately, we both know that's not the case"

💙ATSUSHI💙

You were part of the Mafia and Atsushi was part of the ADA. You two have fought eachother every once in awhile, but something about him made you soft, maybe it's because he's actually very sweet, but there's no way you'd ever admit to that. He always got in the way of your plans and it frustrated the hell out of you

Not like he thought of you any different. He didn't like how much of a horrible person you can be, but sometimes he's seen a soft side of you that he believe can be turned into good. You both just found each other fascinating and irritating, yet here you are on a bed.

You were both naked. He was on top of you with his forehead on your shoulder. He thrusted into you at a normal speed, almost tender and soft but he still hit the deepest parts of you. Your wet cunt soaked his cock and made it easy for him to slip in and out of you. One of your arms were in his hair and the other on his back. You both moaned from the pleasure

"Mmn~! W-we shouldn't be doing this- ah~!" He moans against your skin.

He looked worried, but he was just overwhelmed by the pleasure

"Yea, but it's too late to back out now Mmn~! it feels good, doesn't it~?" You responded, tilting your head slightly to get a better look at him

His grip tightened on the sheets "Y-yeah it feels ah~! A-amazing~! But- ngh~!"

"We can stop if you want- ah~ it's just I'll be unsatisfied mmn~"

He moves his head away from your shoulder to get a better look at you "N-no, I can't stop now~ mph~! Even if I wanted to~"

His thrusts became faster making you both moan in ecstasy as you reach closer to your climaxes"Why? Ngh~! Why you out of all people? Ah~" he asks mostly to himself

You scoffed "Mmn~! I ask myself the same thing"

"You've killed and tortured mmn~ yet I can't bring myself to stop~!" He was clearly feeling some type of guilt, but the body wants what it wants

You responded "Not like your any better- ngh~ your such a pushover agh~ your so fucking sensitive" you paused for a second before finishing your sentence "B-but I just can't stay away~ ngh~"

He looks into your eyes slightly surprised. He knows you have a soft spot and he wishes you brought it out more. His thrusts became needy and more vulgar. His thighs slapping against your thighs, hitting your g-spot over and over. You arched your back as you clawed his skin

He felt his release "I c-can't hold it anymore~ ah~! too good~! I-im- ngh~ something's coming~!" He moaned loudly

You held tightly onto him "Just like that~ i-im going to cum~!"

A few more strokes into your wet, warm cunt. He didn't want to make a mess on your body he pulled out and came onto his hand with a loud whimper. His hand was covered in so much of his own cum and you wished it was all over you or maybe even filling up inside you. You came right after him while moaning.

You both stood still in place panting heavily. Atsushi looks at his hand and clean it up with a tissue that's by the bed. He gave some to you too.After you cleaned yourselves up, you looked at him while blushing "Do you mind if I come back tomorrow?"

He jolts slightly from the question and looks away "We shouldn't, but.." he gulps before looking at you "Yeah, I'd like that"

🧡CHUUYA🧡

You knew Chuuya by working long enough at the ADA to learn about him. You knew he was part of the Mafia and his ability, but you both had a difficult relationship. You both didn't hate eachother, but it was hard to get along. You don't know why or how y'all started to fight with each other so often, but it's a regular thing. Regardless of your relationship, you found eachother attractive and thus found yourselves hooking up on this night.

You were both on the bed. Chuuya was on top of you as he thrusted roughly into you. At this rate when you wake up tomorrow you won't even be able to close your legs. Your arms were clawing his back which he found such a turn on. You both moaned from the euphoric sensation

"D-damnit it~ why are you so tight for, huh?" He struggled to say without moaning

You chuckle "Heh~ you can't handle me or what, bitch-? AH!"

Chuuya suddenly sunk his teeth into your neck to shut your snarky comment. You tightened from the bite and he twitched "Agh~ It seems like your the one that can't handle me"

You pull his hair roughly making him moan loudly "Ngh~! F-fucking hell!"

His pace became faster which made you squirm a bit and moan. He held your hips still with his hands "D-dont squirm so much! you'll make me- ngh~!" He moans

You smirk "Your throbbing so much Chuuya~ what's the matter? Mmn~ Does it feel that good~?" You taunted

He grumbles "Shut up ngh~ your literally soaking the sheets"

You decided to flip over and get on top of him "Hey! Who said you could- NGH~!"

You cut off his sentence by jumping on his cock. He gripped harshly on your hips as he closed his eyes tightly from the sensual pleasure

"Mmn~ You look kinda cute like this, Chuuya~" you moaned looking down at his pathetic state

His eyebrows furrowed as he grumbled "Ah~ don't ever call me that"

"Fine mnn~ your adorable~" you poked his cheek

His cheeks blushed red as he suddenly flipped you over and got back on top of you. His thrusts were vulgar and deep. You both moaned loudly. The bed shook violently. Your arms were wrapped around eachother. Your arched your back when you felt his cock hit your g-spot and moaned loudly

He smirks "Screaming from my cock~? Fuck~ so fucking good~ seems like your actually good at something"

You digged your nails into his shoulders "I-im gonna- ah~!" You moaned

His eyes were drunk with pleasure "Yeah~? me too ngh~ where do you want it?"

You grunted "O-outside, you idiot- mmn~!"

After a couple deep thrusts he pulled out and stroked his cock, shooting hot, sticky cum all over your body with a loud grunt. You saw his cock throbbed aggressively as it squirted cum. The sight alone made you cum with him. Your body twitched as you moaned from your release

You were both breathing heavily. He plopped next to you and got some napkins from the table next to the bed and gave them to you to clean yourself. You both laid there and stared at the ceiling still trying to calm down from the climax

"We're never doing that, again" Chuuya pants

"Fuck no. Never again" you responded

What a god damn lie

💛SIGMA💛

You and Sigma know each other for being part of the Decay of Angels and didn't really get along. Sigma had a hard time trusting people especially since you were part of the Decay of Angels. Right from the beginning he never fully trusted you and because of that he was very distant and cold towards you

You weren't any different though. You were also being used for the decay of angels and didn't really trust Sigma. The relationship between you two was secretly hating the other with no real reason, but one day you were both really frustrated and needed a distraction

It kind of just happened yet you couldn't really understand how it happened when you were both on the couch naked. You were straddling him while jumping on his cock. His hands were caressing your thighs. Your hands were in his hair sometimes pulling it and making him groan. Your tight, wet, warm cunt rubbed his cock addictively as you kept jumping on it. The tip of his cock hitting the deepest parts of your pussy. It felt amazing

Sigma looks down to see his cock slide in and out of you "Ah~! f-fuck~ j-just like that~" he moans

"So good~ I didn't expect you to be this amazing~" you responded while arching your back

He furrows his eyebrows "S-shut up~ mmn~ I know your just fucking with me mph~ using me as a toy"

You looked into his eyes "So are you- ngh~ don't act all innocent agh~! your loving this aren't you?"

He looked slightly stunned for a second "W-well.. ngh~! I guess we're both even- ah~!"

Suddenly your pace became faster. His cock throbbing aggressively as his whole body twitched from every touch from you "Your so sensitive~ mnn~! have you never been touched before~?" You asked teasingly

He blushed more and looked down "W-why would it matter? Your talking too much- ngh~!"

You wrapped your arms around his neck "Don't be so embarrassed~ ah~ it's actually pretty cute~" you smirked

He became embarrassed "C-cute? I said to s-shut up didnt I?"

He was tired of hearing your talk, after all, he just wanted a distraction. You listened to his small request and stopped talking. You thought of a kinky idea and decided to cover his eyes with your hands. He couldn't see, but he focused more on the pleasure of your cunt. He let out a loud whimper and unintentionally used his hands to move your hips faster. His cock throbbed and ached as he felt his climax coming

"A-ah~! Mmn~ f-faster~!" He moaned while his head fell back exposing his throat more

You moaned more from the quick pace and smirked by how cute he was "So lewd~ ah~!"

"G-gonna c-cum~! Don't stop~!" He whimpered loudly

You kept doing with what you were doing also feeling your climax coming. After a few more thrusts, Sigma gasps before cumming deep inside you with a loud whimper and digging his nails into your skin. You tugged on his hair when you felt his cock shoot cum, making you cum with him and moaned. Both of you quivering from the insane amount of pleasure rushing throughout your body.

You laid limp against him and roved your hand from his eyes. Both of you were breathing heavily. You moved your head slightly to get a better look at his face

"If you ever need another release don't be afraid to come to me" you quietly said

He looks down at you with blushed cheeks. He stared into your eyes with a small amount of worry for awhile before gulping and responding. He nodded "Alright"

[reiderwriter]

For some reason my comments don't come through on your posts, but I want to first say I absolutely love your writing and I'm so happy your requests are open!! 🥰😭 So I've had this idea of a fluff mixed with spencer angst where reader is maybe interning at Diana's facility (not a dr yet, studying) and becomes close with Diana by reading, chatting, etc and Spencer over hears it from time to time and the dialogue between spencer and reader gets too close for Spencers comfort, but Diana wants her around more. Thank you again for your hard work okay bye!

A/N: I've never written a fic with Diana in it before, so this was a bit of a challenge for me, bit I enjoyed writing it a lot! Hopefully, this is somewhat like what you wanted!! ❤️

Warnings: Spencer is a bit dense (real) and puts his foot in his mouth (metaphorically, of course).

Diana Reid's son was exactly the way she described him, down to the tiny curls at the base of his neck and the glimmer of intelligence in his eye. 

After four weeks interning at the care facility while working on your medical degree, you'd spent a considerable amount of time with your favorite patient, and her stories about her son were legendary. 

At first, you weren't sure whether to believe the woman when she said her son was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs, and a job in the FBI. She wouldn't be the first schizophrenic patient to muddle up her facts, but she certainly was the sweetest. 

So when you recalled your conversation with the head nurse later that day, she laughed and confirmed every story about Doctor Spencer Reid. Your mouth hung open in shock because surely nobody that incredible could just be out walking the streets. 

Another month of conversations about the man, and you were half in love with him. He wrote his mother letters every day - hand wrote them, even - and she's shown you a few. He'd talked about his friends, his team, his jobs, and how he was saving lives. And when one of the latest ones dropped in the news that he'd be free for a visit soon, you found yourself overflowing with anticipation. 

Of course, you felt like you already knew the man. You knew what his first words were, what his favorite toy was growing up, and even about the exploits of his first date, as pitiful as it was. What you didn't know was if Diana was passing along similar information about you. 

The day Spencer Reid finally showed up, he took your breath away. You were mostly in awe of Diana's ability to describe her son perfectly, though you'd grown fond of her perfectly professional English Lecturer tone of speaking over the last few weeks. She was practically lyrical when talking her son into existence. 

“His hair curls beautifully. He's my little adonis. He keeps it too long though, I'm always telling him he needs to cut it because it hides too much of his face,” she'd told you one day before picking her book up and ignoring you for the next half hour. 

“My Spencer is delightfully tall. He's a little bit spindly like a spider. He's not the most grateful, that's for sure, we used to call him crash because he was always bumping into things. Poetic, right?” 

You knew from the second he walked through the door that this man was him. 

Tall, slightly hunched, clutching his satchel strap in his hand, terrifyingly handsome and making your hand jump into your throat. Definitely him, and definitely a problem. You'd have to check the code of conduct about falling hopelessly for a patient's beautiful son. 

If you had any doubts, this was Spencer in front of you though, when he bumped into a chair just as he was about to reach his mother, it was confirmed. 

“Diana, I believe your Crash is here,” you smiled and giggled, watching her turn quickly to greet her son. 

You, too, gave him a warm smile, but he seemed a little hesitant to return it, instead greeting his mother softly and sitting with her while you retreated slightly to give them some privacy. 

You hovered in the space, as Diana had been talking about introducing the two of you all week, and you didn't want to distress her if she couldn't find you close by. 

But though Spencer was closely attentive and soft with his mother, he took brief pauses to stare almost frustratedly at you. You weren't sure what it was, but something about you was setting Spencer on edge, and that in itself was unsettling you as well. 

“Oh, Spencer, you must meet our Y/N. Y/N, come here, this is my son, Spencer.”

Slightly more apprehensive now, you held out your hand to shake his, “I've heard so much about you  it's nice to finally be seeing you in person, Doctor Reid.” 

He didn't shake your hand, though, but awkwardly waved it off quickly, leaving you to awkwardly replace it by your side. 

“Nice to meet you. Are you a new attendant? I asked all updates about my mother's companions to be confirmed and passed on to me, patient and carers included.” 

His tone was business-like and clipped, and you could see a gentle annoyance settling on his features. 

“I'm sorry, Doctor Reid, I thought Diana would have told you in a letter, or the administration would've passed it on. I'm a medical student on an internship.” You felt like you'd been chastised by an irate parent though he'd at no point raised his voice or indicated in his words any sense of anger at all. His eyes burned across your skin, though, and you felt a flame heat your skin under the weight of his stare. 

“You're mother has told me a lot about you though, she reads me your letters sometimes, between our discussions of Marjorie Kempe.” 

“My letters? Mom, we've talked about this. Those are private.” You looked at the quiet disappointment on Diana's face and felt protective over the woman all of a sudden.

“Please, I'm sorry for overstepping, but your mother is just very proud of you. She talks about you a lot actually, and your job-” 

“With all due respect, Y/N, the last time my mother talked to a new friend about me, he traveled to Virginia and shot one of my friends, so this really is a conversation I'd rather not be having.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as he turned back to his mother and started talking to her gently again about personal security, effectively dismissing you from the conversation. 

You'd had stupid hopes for Spencer Reid, and that's all they would ever be. 

Reid talked on, and you left him alone with his mother, though she seemed distracted by your departure. 

“Spencer, that wasn't nice. Look at that poor girl. She's close to tears.”

“What? Mom, are you even listening to me?” 

“No, and I likely won't until you go and apologize to Y/N. She's a pretty girl, Spencer, and she was very excited to meet you.” 

“Pretty…. Mom, please.” 

“What, do you disagree? You think I don't know you well enough to know when a girl would suit you well? Or do you think I'm blind to the fact that you were stealing glances at her before she introduced herself.” 

Spencer went quiet at having been caught, and he hated to accept that maybe his mother was right. 

It was true as well that the care facility had informed him of medical interns coming and going in the next few months, and really, she wasn't to blame for his mother being fond of him. 

He was glad, though, that neither of them had noticed the ten minutes he'd spent just outside the large sitting area watching them talk. He'd been obviously taken aback to see someone new so close to his mom and his mom similarly comfortable. He felt even worse for the fact that for a solid minute and a half, he'd stared at the girl with no other thought in his head than the sound of his heart skipping a questioning beat. 

He'd pulled himself out of it eventually, but only when another nurse had come along to ask him if he'd actually be visiting his mother today or just dropping in to check on her. 

And then he'd bumped into that infernal chair when he was so fixated on getting to them, and she'd opened her mouth and called him crash, and his heart had sank. 

He reminded himself it was neither of their faults and inwardly cursed himself for being so unfriendly with someone who'd taken such good care of his mother recently. 

He promised himself that he'd talk with his mom and then go and find the woman, and apologising for being such a brute. 

“Spencer, are you listening to me, or are you busy daydreaming about my nurse?” 

“Mom!” 

“You're plain as day, kiddo, you'll never get anything past me. Now please, leave me be, I'm reading. Come back later if you must, but for now, take this to Y/N for me, please. She left it with me to read this morning, but I'm not in the mood for Medieval Romance right now.” 

It was a blatant lie, but a dismissal nonetheless, and Spencer quietly took his chance to search for you in the halls. 

The head nurse humorously pointed him in the right direction without him asking, much to his annoyance, but he persisted and lightly tapped on your shoulder to greet you. 

“Oh, Doctor Reid, hello again.” You smiled a little smaller this time, still polite, but he watched the way it didn't reach your eyes and felt like a jackass all over again. 

“My mom told me to come return this book to you.” He held out the book, and you quietly took it, folding it into your arms and hugging it tightly against your chest as you both stood there silently after the exchange. 

“I'm sorry, as well. I wasn't exactly very friendly back there, because-” 

“It's okay, Doctor Reid, you really don't have to explain. I overstepped, it's my fault and it won't happen again.”

“Are you kidding? My mom hasn't looked that relaxed in years. Please keep overstepping.” 

Your smile widened slightly at the compliment, and Spencer's tongue kicked into hyper drive immediately at the sight, even as his brain powered off. 

“You're pretty,” he blurted out, stopping only as his brain caught up with his tongue before firing off again. “My mom said you're pretty. I agree as well, though, you have a nice smile, and it's better when you don't force it. Not that I'm telling you how to smile, though. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but my mom made me come over here and talk to you, even though I'm pretty sure that's her book and not one you loaned her.” 

He took a moment to catch his breath as you blinked at him in confusion, heart beating rapidly even as you heard the blood rushing through your ears. 

“If you're free now, would you want to grab a coffee? Unless you have a boyfriend. Or husband. Or girlfriend or wife, I guess, I don't mean to presume. But if you're free, as in time, and free as in, like, relationship wise, I'd like to buy you a coffee to thank you for listening to my mom.” 

He finally stopped, and you stared wondrously at the reddened skin of his cheeks as he held his breath, waiting for your reply. 

“You want to take me out for coffee to thank me?” 

“Yes.” 

“And on a separate note, I'm pretty, and you want to know if I'm in a relationship?” 

“I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me, I'll just see myself out. It was a stupid idea anyway-” 

“No, wait, Spencer! Let me… let me grab my coat. My lunch break is in half an hour, and I'm sure it'll be okay to take it early.” You held his arm for a second, stepping slightly too close for comfort before realising yourself and taking a tiny step back.

He stood and blinked in your direction, as though wondering seriously for a moment what your lunch break had to do with him. 

“Are you going to stand there staring at me, or are we going to go out?” 

“You're serious?” 

“I guess…. I guess I am.”

“And you're… you're single.” 

Your mouth went dry as his skin finally completed its transformation from vampiric to tomato red. You desperately hoped your own embarrassment wasn't equally as readable on your face. 

“Quite single. Medical students don't have that much time to date.”

“Neither do FBI agents.” 

“Perhaps a subject we could talk more about later?” 

“Definitely.” 

[sayoneee]

☆ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE

percy jackson is a nuisance. a nuisance you have always been fond of, some way, somehow. (5.6k)

contains: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader. post tlo (spoilers). kind of melancholy but it gets better (kind of). book percy.

kashaf’s note: guess whos alive!

TO QUESTION, to ponder, to seek out the gods is sacrilegious. the gods preferred their divinity to be kept strictly within the confines of worship — whether by completing their ‘menial’ tasks or by committing sacrifices, they, in their infinite wisdom, are not allowed to be objected to. 

“so, my mom’s a god? of love?” 

you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and mentally counted to three. opening your eyes, you make eye contact with the newest addition to camp, and your newest responsibility. bruised and scuffed, the poor kid blinks back at you confusedly as you mull your options. “yes, and no,” you decide.

“our mom’s a goddess, and love is just the most common of her jurisdictions.” 

the new camper looks around the cabin, taking it in, you follow their gaze, lingering on the painted swans on the wall behind you, and bouncing to the pearls adorning the vanity, littered with various seashell trays holding gold jewelry (the first time you had entered these very walls, your throat had tightened at the pure ostentatiousness of it all).

they glance back at you, confused. you sighed again, “yes, our mom is the goddess of love.”

“oh.”

the candles residing in conches flicker as if waiting to pass judgment, and silence blankets you and the new camper once more (this is potentially your fiftieth time attempting to explain the same concept, yet you’re no better at it than when you first started — shaking and solemn). 

needless to say, it’s more than just difficult to explain this tacit rule to new campers — after whatever tragic event transpired for them to realize that the greek gods of myth and legend indeed exist, they simply don’t have the mental capacity to learn the unspoken rules of the whole being a demigod thing.

you could be warmer, somehow, you suppose, with your mother being the goddess of love and all — in all honesty, you’re still not sure how you became the aphrodite cabin counselor, over selina (the entirety of camp half-blood’s favorite daughter of aphrodite) but the counselorship would have ended up in your hands anyway, after everything (the sight of her once-beautiful face as she coughed up blood in clarisse’s lap swims across your memories). 

you pinched the bridge of your nose again, sighing as the candles snuffed out all at once of their own accord (judgment has been passed), “take the empty bed in the corner, we get up at like the ass crack of dawn so you might wanna catch up on your sleep.”

you watched the kid sit on the bed (looking every bit out of place as you did when you first arrived amidst the sheer indulgence the cabin is), and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest as the child (the entire camp is full of children, but the vast majority of you have never gotten the chance to be the children that you are) stared wide-eyed at posters of movie stars, like tristan mclean, adorning the walls.

with one last glance and forlorn smile at the kid, you walked out of your cabin, your expression hardening at the sight of other campers. the walk to the arena is a short yet bleak one, in the silence you can hear drew’s screaming ringing in your ear (drew is preferable to hearing your other half-siblings, ethan, or even luke; drew is alive).

in the middle of the sword-fighting lesson being taught, you slipped into the arena, undetected for the most part except for the pair of sea-green eyes trained on your figure as you came and stood next to him, clearly hanging back.

“this is usually your shit, jackson,” you say, ignoring how pitiful your racing heart is, and watching clarisse at the helm, steam blowing out of her ears as new campers fell over themselves trying to parry and block with wooden swords.

percy turns to look at you, and from the corner of your eye, you can sense the storm brewing across his face. “maybe i’m not the attention whore you think i am,” he snorts, and there is a small trace of bile in his voice, but you don’t focus on that.

instead, your face burns at the memory of your last argument after you dove in front of ethan’s knife (you still wince when you remember the way his visible eye widened when he realized it was you who caught the blow), and percy’s bitterness as will patched you up, what the fuck is wrong with you, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.

and your weak but indignant reply, i literally saved your life, asshole. are you that much of an attention-whore that you need to be the one on their deathbed right now?

“i’d say you kind of are,” you say, turning to meet his gaze (for a brief, stupid, second you wonder if somehow he was a son of zeus because of how the air suddenly became charged with electricity), arms folding across your chest. “the whole making the gods pay child support is a bit attention-whore-esque.”

percy laughed, a sound you and the other campers haven’t heard in a while (it’s different from before but it is still a sound that in your weaker moments, you admit to craving to hear). “someone had to do it,” he says, sobering up immediately.

“luke tried,” you whispered (the name is still taboo around camp), shivering as you felt percy stiffen beside you. a beat passes and the resulting silence is suffocating.

percy offers you a sad, tight smile before walking out of the arena. you watch him go with a strange pain in your chest and a longing for the before, the laughter leaping across the sun-drenched strawberry fields, the joking i told you so’s during meals, and the softness of the campfire sing-a-longs.

it’s hard not to blame the gods, for that is blasphemy, but on most nights, you find yourself uttering your mother’s name with a tangible acidity, and you find that you’re not alone in this sentiment. the once-reverent echoes of aphrodite, promise me true love, promise me victory, promise me beauty, have now faded to lifeless whispers — formalities instead of prayers. 

even your own prayers are different now, you pray for the sea — if your mother is allowed to be ambiguous with her gifts (curses) then she must expect the same ambiguity in your prayers in return. when you’re done half-heartedly muttering your prayers and sacrificing your food, your gaze meets a familiar pair of sea-green eyes across the campfire, glowing like a beacon in the dark. 

standing up, you find drew, looking every bit as perfect as ever. you lean down to whisper, “lights out at eleven, i’ll be back.” 

drew nods, squeezing your hand before she begins herding the rest of your half-siblings back to your cabin, solemn and toneless (an empty shell compared to the once vibrant and snarky drew from before).

the walk to the beach is silent, although you know that you’re being followed — you didn’t survive the war being complacent. when you finally do arrive, the mysterious figure reveals himself in the moonlight (again, you’d be a fool to not recognize the son of poseidon’s careful footsteps).

percy looks every bit of a character straight out of a tragic romance novel that your mother probably inspired, and again your heart squeezes painfully at the sight of him — under the scars and the jaded attitude, he is still the same percy jackson with stars in his eyes when he first introduced you to his mother. 

“why do the naiads call you that?” percy asks abruptly, tilting his head to the side as if studying you as he approaches.

barely audible accusations of apatu’ria bubble at the surface of the lake like seafoam; the whispers have followed you since you arrived at camp, and you have never known why.

“call me what?” you ask, feigning ignorance as iterations of deceitful replay across your mind.

percy blinks, confused, “isn’t your mother related to the sea somehow? don’t you know they call you apatu’ria?”

you fiddle with the gold bracelet on your wrist (a gift from selina), percy’s gaze follows the movement as you hesitate. “well, yeah, like i know what it means but i don’t know why they call me that.”

percy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “they call me ‘prosklystios’ a lot,” he said (in the way that he knows you, better than you know yourself).  

“so what, we’re just reduced to epithets of our parents? what an honor,” you mumbled sarcastically, staring out at the lake, watching its surface ripple as the accusations grew more fervent. you paid it no mind however, the burden of being a daughter of aphrodite had already claimed its weight on your shoulders. 

“careful,” percy sighed, his gaze focusing on you instead of the water, “might’ve just won a war but that won’t stop either of us from being smited if big guy in the sky thinks we’re being impertinent.”

distant thunder rumbled overhead as if proving his point.

“speak for yourself, pretty boy,” you say, eyes looking toward the firmament littered with stars, incognizant of your admission, “if i got the gods to basically pay child support without being sent to tartarus, i would do whatever the fuck i wanted.”

percy being percy, of course, did not register that last bit of your sentence, a shit-eating grin forming across his face, a slight red hue tinging his cheeks, “you think i’m pretty.”

you turn to look at him, ignoring how your heart hammers at the way he’s smiling down at you, you roll your eyes. “percy,” you say slowly. “my mom is the goddess of love, everyone’s gorgeous in her eyes.”

“yeah, but not everyone’s gorgeous in your eyes.” 

gods, he was so aggravating but the way his eyes twinkled and the genuine elation on his face almost made you admit defeat. 

you crossed your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him, “this is why i never compliment you, you always let it go to your head.”

“aw, c’mon, you love me for it though,” percy says, still grinning widely, his unruly black hair falling into place perfectly.

“you’re an actual attention-whore,” you say, spinning around on your heels and trekking across the sand, leaving percy alone to stare out at the water. you walk back to camp, ignoring percy’s calls of wait punctuated by his laughter as he jogs up behind you. 

“i hope mr. d catches you out past curfew and the harpies eat you,” you say deadpan, once percy has caught up to you. 

“you’d miss me too much and would come to be my hero, again,” percy smirks at you, following along as you head toward aphrodite cabin (you’re secretly very glad for his presence, you hate walking around camp when it’s this deserted — the memories that you tried so desperately to bury try to claw their way to the surface).

“just because i caught a knife for you, once, does not mean that i’ll ever do it again,” you say, folding your arms across your chest as you stand outside the door of your cabin. “getting stabbed is not a ten out of ten experience.”

percy softens, his impish grin still there, but the intensity of his gaze is enough to make you melt, “good, can’t have you dying on me.”

you snorted, “even if i did die, i’d tell nico to raise my ghost so i could haunt you forever.”

percy’s still smiling, his eyes are still soft, and he’s so close to you right now. “go out with me,” he says, suddenly, earnestly.

blood rushes to your ears. “what?” you blinked, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.

percy shrugged, leaning forward to press a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head. you barely registered the action in your mind, trying to regain your ability to form coherent sentences as you watched him. percy looked away from your questioning gaze. “better go before the harpies eat me,” he said before jogging in the direction of his cabin. 

he leaves you standing in front of your cabin door, frozen in shock for another five minutes, before you shake it off, and head inside, convincing yourself that you had imagined the entire encounter. the familiar scent of jasmine envelops you as you linger in the doorway. drew is still awake on her bed, her back pressed against the wall and her head in her arms. she doesn’t bother to look up at your entry until you’re sat next to her, curling an arm around her bony shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. 

the two of you sit in silence as drew attempts to calm her heartbeats to sync with yours, her head resting on your shoulder as you rub soothing circles into the planes of her shoulder. you fall asleep in a tangled mess of limbs, a desperate attempt to close the gaping hole selina left in her wake. this is sisterhood, you think when you wake up and drew’s head weighs like lead on your shoulder.

the bright morning does little to assuage your burdens — you know it’s going to be a long day as soon as you hear campers giggling. rule number one of being a camp counselor: no matter how benign, giggling is the number one sign of trouble.

you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning to the younger half of your half-siblings currently in the process of attempting arts and crafts. “what the fuck do you guys keep giggling about?”

your half-siblings only giggle harder. 

after what seemed like eons, the new camper finally comes up to you — a kid no older than eight, who motions for you to bend down before they begin stage-whispering in your ear, “is percy jackson your boyfriend?”

you immediately feel scandalized, jerking away like you’ve been burned, “no, who said that?”

(when you’re being lulled to sleep by the sound of drew’s imperceptible snoring in your ear, your subconscious spends its time lingering, dwelling on could’ve been’s, and should’ve been’s, the obsession as stubborn as when you refused to believe that percy had actually died on mount st helens.)

the kid continues to smile ‘innocently’, “everyone says that you guys hold hands at campfires.”

sudden flashes of percy’s unyielding grip on your hand and his broad smile, as he forced you into a sing-a-long with him, rise to the forefront of your mind, but that was before — when annabeth still had a steely look in her eyes, when travis and connor’s antics still garnered laughs from everyone (and a rare amused glance from mr. d). now (the after), there is no such jocularity, and percy is kept at arm’s length, reduced to offering you sad smiles across the campfire.

“we do not hold hands at campfires,” you say, struggling to keep the disdain out of your voice.

“but there’s a ‘we’,” the kid says, scrutinizing you up and down.

you have to mentally count to three so that you don’t end up arguing with a literal child (it’s not a great way to prove that your sanctity is still intact). “there’s no we.”

the kid shrugs in an if you say so gesture, giving you one last weirdly knowing look before turning back to their arts and crafts. a weighty silence settles, punctuated only by the sounds of scissors and rustling papers. 

stares and loud whispers follow you around camp, more so than usual for an aphrodite kid — clarisse finds you in the midst of it all, lost in thought when her cabin is supposed to be pulverizing apollo cabin at volleyball, a sharp glint in her eye. 

“you’d tell if me you were dating prissy, right?” she says, her hand faintly closing around your elbow, pulling you out of your reverie. 

“what are you talking about?” you say, eyebrows raising in shock. this wasn’t your first rodeo — just before the war this summer, camp gossip had credited you to be going out with connor stoll, but this was different. clarisse was the fifth person today who had asked you if you were dating percy. 

“so you are dating him?�� clarisse looks offended, or well, as offended as clarisse can be, “and you didn’t tell me.”

you can feel eyes on you, watching your every move as other campers subtly pause their activities to listen in. 

“clarisse,” you say slowly, reaching out to hold her forearms and looking her in the eye, “i’m not dating percy.” when she opens her mouth to interrupt, you add, “and i would definitely tell you if i was.”

clarisse exhales, shooting you a disbelieving look, but mercifully leaving you alone with a quiet, “okay.”

you know what she’s thinking, so you offer her a taut smile, patting her on her shoulder as you brush past her. you headed toward the lake, with a feeling that you’d find the answers you were searching for.

the lake is empty except for one solitary figure on the sand, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. you hang back for a minute or two, taking in the sight of percy with his eyes closed, and the peaceful look on his face. 

a grin settled across his face as he addressed you, his eyes still closed, “i know you think i’m pretty, you don’t have to stare to prove it.”

you ignored his words, and he opened his eyes to watch you angrily march across the sand to stand face to face with him. 

“are you the reason why everyone thinks we’re seeing each other?”

“yeah, why?”

to say that you’re taken aback is an understatement — you had anticipated some more denial but this was unexpected. and sudden.  

you jab a finger at his chest, “everyone’s getting the wrong idea, so you need to stop whatever it is you’re doing like right now.”

“but they could have the right idea,” percy says, looking amused.

your heart scrapes painfully against your chest, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“we could be dating, for real,” percy says, excruciatingly slow, elongating each word. 

the earth stops spinning on its axis for a minute, and time seems to freeze — for a split second you worry kronos has risen again before you calm your racing heartbeat and exhale slowly.

“i need you to be so for real right now,” you say, your eyebrows furrowing.

“i’m being so deadass right now.” 

“no, you’re not,” you say, turning and walking away. your heart squeezes pitifully in your chest, as you call out, “find me when you stop joking,” before leaving him alone on the shore.

when percy approaches you again, you think he’s finally come back to his senses, though a weaker, more primitive urge inside you hopes that he hasn’t (it’s for the better, you try and fail to convince yourself).

he interrupts your conversation with drew (though the two of you weren’t doing much talking), smiling charmingly at her before asking if he could steal you away for a minute during breakfast. drew shot you a concerned look, waiting for your reassuring smile before assenting.

“you’ve come to your senses?” you ask after percy leads you away from the mess hall.

“i’ve always had my senses, thank you very much,” percy grins.

you roll your eyes, trying not to smile, “oh yeah, i could totally tell when you played rock, paper, scissors with a hundred-handed one last summer.”

“hey,” percy says, throwing his hands up in the air defensively, “i won that one.”

“on a gamble,” you countered, smiling (you missed this, missed him, and the feeling that everything will be alright enduring).

“not the point.”

“then what is?”

“go out with me,” he repeats, sudden, and earnest.

your heart stuttered pitifully. “not this again,” you sighed.

“why not?” 

“why?”

“you know why,” percy tries to make eye contact with you. still, you avoid his gaze, watching the other campers heading into the mess hall give the two of you weird looks. 

“no, i don’t,” you say firmly, before walking away, ignoring his protests, leaving behind a group of onlookers that you could care less about, and percy, who was staring at the spot you had just been standing in.

you returned to your cabin, to the familiar jasmine scent and pearl adornments, and promptly collapsed on your bed. more than anything, you just wanted your mother. you wanted your mother to smooth out your hair as you cried, offer you advice, and get rid of the stupid curse.

the door opens quietly and you immediately sit up, dabbing at your face and hoping that your eyes haven’t turned red and swollen already. drew shut the door gently behind her, her expression softening the slightest fraction at the sight of you.

“do i look that bad?” you ask, trying not to sniffle (and failing miserably).

a whirlwind of emotions cross drew’s face and you manage a watery grin. “okay, y’know what, don’t tell me then.”

drew sits next to you on the bed, handing you a box of tissues, “wasn’t planning to.” 

the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder as she lets you have a minute to clean up before going straight for the jugular. “i heard what happened.”

you laughed, a choking noise that dissolved into weak coughing. drew patted your back. “so, the entire camp knows now?”

“no,” she says, before changing her mind, “well, yeah.” 

“great,” you groaned, “my life is so over.”

drew tensed, tearing her gaze from the posters of hot people on the wall, to look at you, her brown eyes ablaze with fury and her silver earrings (also a gift from silena) jangle, “shut up, you’re the senior counselor of aphrodite cabin, and they’re all losers unworthy of your time. your life so isn’t over.”

(this is the drew from before, the drew that comes and goes in flashes so sudden that you try to piece her together like a puzzle that never seems to connect.)

“the curse,” you say, your throat tight. 

drew’s eyes widen imperceptibly, her blue eyeshadow sparkling in the candlelit cabin, before her expression settles into a scowl. “what about the gift?” her voice sharpens as she stresses the last word, sparing the smallest glance toward the roof of the cabin.

you can’t continue, and you don’t have to — she knows what it is that you’re thinking of (she always has, from the minute you met her, two cold and shaking children alone in the dark).

she shakes her head emphatically. “silena,” her voice chokes, before dropping to a whisper, “silena left us — you can’t leave us too.”

“i know,” you whisper back, your eyes filling with tears. “i know.”

“oh, honey,” drew says sympathetically, drawing you into her arms, and smoothing your hair away from your face as you let out a sob against her shoulder. “break his heart,” she says. 

“i can’t,” you mumble.

“you have to. he’ll die if you don’t, and a broken heart is better than dying.”

“i can’t do that to him, he’s so unbelievably good, drew, he deserves everything and more.”

“ignoring how ridiculously sappy that sounded, look at what happened to beckendorf,” you pretend not to notice how drew stumbles through his name (he looked at silena as if she had personally hung the stars in the night sky), “maybe he wouldn’t have gotten over it, but he would’ve been alive.”

you remember how silena had proudly said she was going to put an end to the archaic rite of passage your cabin was infamous for around camp; beautiful, idealistic silena with stars in her eyes (who liked beckendorf to the point she’d blush profusely at the mention of his name), who had no idea that this would all come crashing down around her some short months later. 

at your silence, drew continues, still stroking your hair, “look, not to make this harder, but even i’ll admit jackson’s one of those guys you meet once in a lifetime—”

“thanks, drew, that was really helpful,” you interrupt, chuckling dryly.

“oh, shut up, i had a point,” drew says, swatting your shoulder playfully.

you sigh, letting her continue.

“so, like i was saying before i was so rudely interrupted, because jackson’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime type of guys—” here, you coughed pointedly, making drew glare at you before continuing, “—you should be like more willing to see him happy and like living a long ass life because you’re so in love with him.”

“so what, either i reject him and ruin our friendship irreversibly or we date and i break his heart and ruin our friendship irreversibly, or we date and i don’t break his heart and he dies tragically and there’s a possibility that i die tragically too?”

drew shrugged, making a tiny braid in your hair, “pretty much.”

you turned your head in her lap to look her in the eye, “how are you so apathetic about this?”

“someone has to be because you’re not thinking this through rationally.”

you groaned, “aphrodite has to hate us.” (you haven’t called her ‘mom’ genuinely except to her face during the winter solstices.)

“no, she lives for this kind of thing,” drew rolled her eyes, braiding another piece of your hair, “she definitely thinks she’s doing us a favor.”

you groaned again, “what if i just avoid him until summer ends and he goes back to school and forgets this happened.”

“i didn’t think love made you this stupid,” drew says, amused.

“shut up, i can’t wait until you have the same dilemma, and you’re the one asking for advice.”

“doubt it,” drew says, wryly.

you rolled your eyes, “okay, but what if i tell him about the ‘gift’,” you make air-quotes, “and let him decide?”

“yeah, but what if that just makes it backfire and makes you die tragically either way.”

“well, at least he’ll know about the possibility? it’s better than just being like ‘oh i can’t date you even though i’ve liked you since i was twelve’ with like zero explanation whatsoever.”

you hear muffled footsteps coming from outside of the cabin, and the door swings open loudly to admit lacy, who looks flustered and out of breath. you and drew quickly sprang up off your bed at her arrival.

“your boyfriend’s asking for you,” she says, looking at you.

drew raises her eyebrows at you, an unspoken are you going to see him? behind it. 

you furrowed your eyebrows back at her, conveying no, shut up.

drew shrugged at you as if saying if you say so.

lacy looks between the two of you, confusion apparent before cautiously interrupting, “he’s waiting outside, by the way.”

you panicked at the thought of possibly confronting percy, “lacy, whatever you do, don’t tell him i’m in here.” you paused, “wait, tell him i’m taking a nap or something, please.”

more shuffling noises can be heard from outside, and drew groans, smacking her forehead with her palm, “what is wrong with you?”

you ignored her, focusing on lacy, whose confusion intensified as she looked between the two of you. “tell him i’m sleeping and he should try coming back later.”

she nodded, before opening the door and stepping outside.

drew stared at you, “y’know, i thought people were exaggerating when they said love makes you stupid but after looking at you, they were so right.”

you scowled at drew. she raised her arms in surrender, “just calling it like i see it.”

lacy returned a second later, “um, he wasn’t outside when i went to tell him.”

that was decidedly odd, but you chalked it up to him being busy or something, and shrugged, “i’ll see him later, it’s fine.”

it was actually not fine, because you didn’t see him later. or the next day. or the day after. well, you saw him but you didn’t see him. percy had somehow uncovered a hidden talent for making himself appear everywhere and nowhere all at once. he was there at meals, laughing with tyson or grover, he was at sword fighting practices, leading the class or giving clarisse a partner, he was at campfires, sitting next to annabeth and connor. yet, the minute you tried to approach him, it was almost as if he’d vanish, like an immortal was running interference.

you’ve taken to wandering by the lake on most nights — your only company the voices of silena (go talk to him, her urging is as present as if she was really there, memories of the time the two of you hadn’t been talking for a week resurging) and luke (what’re you doing out this late, kid? a phantom hand reaching out to ruffle your hair, and the feeling of ice being poured down your back envelops you). 

as the sun sets, the tall and lanky figure — a figure you could recognize on the darkest nights — stands overlooking the lake in true jay gatsby fashion, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. you stop and stare for a second (maybe a minute, an hour, time has truly escaped you), and suddenly you’re small and shivering in the dark again. 

percy doesn’t look at you when you approach, though he fidgets with his camp necklace. 

“hi,” you say, unsure of where to begin. 

percy sighs, “look, if you’re here to ask for space, i get it, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day.” he doesn’t turn to look at you or even glance at you through the corner of his eye once. 

“what?” you ask. “what are you talking about?”

“trust me, i get it, you don’t have to try to spare my feelings,” percy says. you want to will him to spare you just a glance. still, he avoids your gaze, focused on the horizon before you. “we’ve been friends for so long, i thought you could be honest with me.”

his words, though not said harshly (percy isn’t capable of being harsh, not to you at least) cut through you like a knife. 

“you heard me when i was talking to lacy, then,” you say, with horror as the realization dawns on you slowly.

percy finally looks at you, and the sheer hurt in his iridescent eyes makes you inhale sharply. a lump forms in your throat.

“i did,” he confirms quietly. “why didn’t you say something earlier?”

fighting in a war hadn’t prepared you for man’s greatest folly, something that you, arguably, should’ve been good at. the lump in your throat is difficult to dislodge, yet percy is patient as you swallow uncomfortably.

“i never meant it like that.”

percy’s eyes flash, and you feel sick to your stomach. “have you ever wondered why so many of the other cabins hate us?”

his previously pained expression morphed into a look of confusion. you continued, “in aphrodite cabin, our rite of passage is to break your first love’s heart. silena—” your voice breaks. “—silena tried to put an end to it, and then both she and beckendorf—” you choke up again, and percy’s expression becomes solemn, “died tragically. we didn’t know the consequences of not doing it were real until then, and we realized it was a curse.”

you watch percy seemingly wrestle with his thoughts, taking a step toward you. 

“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” there is no judgment in his voice, yet you still feel embarrassment pooling in your stomach.

“can you honestly tell me that you’re okay with this? with the gods dictating another aspect of your life?” (somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear luke’s voice repeating the same sentence.)

“you didn’t ask for this either.”

“it’s not our job to question them,” you say, trying not to let a tear slip.

“maybe we should,” percy says, still looking straight at you. 

“careful,” you say, as thunder rumbled distantly overhead, “this is what luke was saying.”

“i don’t care,” percy says, “if you or i die a tragic death, we’ll just have to go through tartarus.”

he said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that your breath catches in your throat.

“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, trying to suppress the tinge of hopefulness in your voice.

percy looked at you in disbelief, his face was so earnest, “why wouldn’t i be?”

you laughed, more out of shock than anything else. percy continued, “i think your mother would think we’d make a cute couple, so maybe she won’t curse us with a tragic end.”

you’re grinning now, tears forgotten, “more like she’ll give us a tragic end because she likes us.”

percy shrugged, “i think we’ll be fine as long as we’re together.”

he kissed you, finally, which was long over-due, and you felt like everything was finally falling into place. 

“took you guys long enough.” 

you turned around to find the source of the interruption, making eye-contact with clarisse, her arms folded and a smug expression on her face. beside her stands most of your friends, all adorning matching wicked expressions. your heart stops beating for a second before your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“how much of that did you guys hear?” percy asked, suddenly looking bashful.

“most of it,” drew replied with a smirk.

percy looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face as your friends surrounded the both of you, hoisting you on their shoulders.

“maybe the two of you need to cool off,” annabeth said with a laugh.

connor grinned at her, before calling out, “dump them in the lake!”

you groaned, begging, “annabeth, please.”

“this is payback for all the pining i had to witness over the years,” she said with another bright laugh.

percy shrugged at you, a grin on his face as if saying accept your fate. you gave in, shaking your head as you laughed at their antics.

[pinkydevil16]

Dark!Coriolanus Snow x Reader: gilded cage

18+ smut, possessiveness, toxic af, 

Snow was a manipulative bastard and yet he was so charming that now he sat in front of the capitol as President, something which terrified Y/n to her core as he held out his hand towards her. Much like her husband she wore all white, a beautifully crafted white dress with roses embellished all over the skirt identical to the one Coriolanus wore on his breast pocket. Stepping forward Y/n placed her bejewelled hand in his, their wedding bands touching as he wove his fingers between hers and stood. Kissing her hand as she bowed to her husband, the President of the capitol and all the districts, an honour bestowed upon him yet Y/n had no doubt this would happen some day, just not so quickly. Coriolanus turned to the audience, pulling Y/n close as he placed a kiss on her forehead, hearing the crowd cheer for their President and his Victor from district 12. His first victor, his first love and his little pet. 

Y/n could feel his hand on her back as many of the Capitols elite and powerful congratulated him, each one grinning ear to ear as he thanked them, tapping his fingers to signal Y/n to talk. Her hand coming out to introduce herself and thank them for voting for her husband, although she was sure it had been rigged in his favour. He was fond of cheating, he cheated so she could win her games a few years ago, cheated the system to keep her in the capitol and most certainly cheated to become President. Although she wasn't permitted to call it cheating when they argued about his manipulative nature, no that word made him angry and he'd shout that he only did what was necessary. That she'd be dead without him, some nobody from district 12 that even her parents would forget to mourn, at first his words had stung, had given him a chance to comfort her and apologise. Hold her in his hands whilst she cried that the world wasn't fair, let him whisper sweet things of how he was only saving her but over time his sweet words hurt more than the insults, they cut deeper. Reminded her how she'd been caught by the snake, locked away from her family and treated as though she was lucky for being slowly destroyed by Snow. 

"It is so wonderful to see the Capitol's darling doing so well, President Snow you did a beautiful job with this one." Y/n could feel her eye twitch, the comment angering her, they all spoke about her like she was an animal he'd tamed and made perform. Not that they were wrong, unfortunately she was an animal to them, a dirty, pitiful nobody who Snow had dusted off, put in pretty dresses and showed off to the rich. A doll dressed up for the masses, just like the victors after her, although she was in a gilded cage, locked away from all but her husband, they were in a similar condition. The victors village, another genius idea from her husband, so the Capitol could visit them, see how they coped after the games. See them reunite with their families and congratulate themselves on allowing those outside the capital to thrive under their watch. It disgusted Y/n, another element of control that Coriolanus enjoyed exploiting, it had only been 5 years since her games yet so much had changed. The arena was harsher, more cameras, more blood shed and now the reason to win, protect your family and give them everything they could ever want. Not like in her games or those before where you were sent back to your district to starve, to work yourself to the bone whilst the blood stained your hands. 

"I am so proud to be apart of the Capitol, it has been an honour to marry Coriolanus, i fell for him the moment i saw him as i stepped off that train. He was the first gentleman i'd ever truly met, he gave me the most beautiful rose and since then he had my heart." Y/n repeated the same story she'd told for the past 4 years, almost like a robot as the words came out, her cheeks hurting as she smiled and looked at Snow. His blue eyes staring down at her as he gave her an approving smile, loving how she followed the script he had for her, not allowing her to speak freely. He called her his dove but she felt like a mockingjay, repeating his words over and over. That word was also a big no, he despised the birds, claimed they were failures of the Capitol and she should never compare herself to such a disaster. 

"You have been married for almost 4 years now, shall we start preparing for babies soon?" One of his Academy 'friends' joked, whilst Y/n's blood ran cold she could almost feel the burning desire in Coriolanus as he laughed and joked back something Y/n couldn't hear over the pounding of her heart. She knew he wanted children, he'd always wanted to be President more and she'd played that against him, reminded him that he had to think of his career. Placated him as he stood in the mirror, her perfectly manicured hands wrapped around his middle as she pressed against his back. Goating his ego, he had work to do, he was going to be President and become the most powerful man in Panem, President Snow. He loved to hear those words come from her mouth, it stroked his ego to no end and would distract him from his desire to have her round his baby. Instead he would demand she bend the knee to her President, would exert as much power as he could over her, make her thank him for everything she had and everything she would ever be given, all thanks to him. But it was better than carrying his child, nurturing his child and watching that child grow up to be him. It didn't matter what influence she could have on the child, she could spend hours upon hours teaching them morals, teaching them to be good, she knew they'd be like him. Tigris had once told her of how Coryo was good, was misunderstood and told her tales of their childhood that made Y/n almost feel pity for Snow, almost. But each story still lead to where he was now, a possessive, controlling and paranoid man. 

In the first year of being victor she'd been so jumpy, hearing things, thinking she was being followed, driving herself into madness with fear. She'd had countless accidents with hurting people from being spooked, and thought she'd never recover from the games, that it was just in her head and she was losing it. Until he'd finally talked to her, confessed his feelings and told her he knew she felt the same, that he'd been there the whole time. That he'd been protecting her, had seen how she'd not been able to cope without him and suddenly all her fears rolled into own person, Coriolanus Snow who had been orchestrating her downfall since she left the arena. Suddenly her Mother and younger brother were being put in the new 'Victor Village' unveiled before the 11th hunger games, with Y/n and her family waving happily to the districts and a speech of how wonderful life was to be a victor. 

"You did so well my dove." Y/n looked up at Coriolanus as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, his hands barely touching her arms as he did. Pulling away he smiled down at her before lightly grasping her chin, pulling her into a searing kiss which she reciprocated after a small, sharp grip to her arms. Coriolanus pulled back, grinning as he stepped away and turned to begin removing his suit jacket, hanging it carefully to stop it creasing.

"Can i see my family, please Coryo. It has been almost a year since i last saw my mother." Y/n could feel her voice getting weaker as she spoke, seeing him slouch slightly as he let out a sigh making her wring her hands in front of her before he abruptly turned. Y/n looked down at her hands as he approached, aware of his body towering over her, almost like she was a small child asking a parent for something. 

"Do you think you deserve such a reward? My sweet dove." Y/n let go of her hands and placed them behind her back, forcing herself to look up at him as he stood with his arms crossed. This was a test, much like all the others he'd presented to her over the years. She thought one day she'd have mastered how to answer but her palms still became clammy, her chest tightened and she felt dizzy the same as the first time he'd asked her such a simple question.

"I think i deserve whatever you give to me." Y/n could see him preen at the obvious submission, a cat like grin taking over his features as he moved fast, leaning down and hoisting her into his arms as Y/n yelped in surprise. 

"And if i think i deserve more for such a reward? What would you give to me, what would you do to see them?" His hands held her thighs in a deadly grip as he walked them through the apartment, her hands gripping his shoulders as her eyes darted around trying to gauge her surroundings. 

"Dove." His tone held a warning as her eyes dropped back to his as he slowed his pace and pressed her against a wall, her eyes moving to where their bed sat behind him, the sheets newly changed and perfectly arranged. Moving her eyes back to his as she tried to hide her fear, recalling what his old friend had said, she knew what he wanted. He'd always wanted it, and now nothing she said could be put inbetween. He was holding her family against her for a family of his own, although even if she hadn't asked, she'd still be in the same position. Being told to ask for it. 

"I don't know." Y/n stuttered out, aware of how hot she was becoming, the panic seeping into her bones at the thought of being a mother, she could see it in his eyes, feel it against her thigh as he looked at her like prey.

"That's okay my precious dove, i don't expect my beautiful wife to have to think about things. Why don't i just take what i deserve and you look pretty whilst i do?" Coriolanus pressed his face into her neck, pressing her against the wall with his body so his hands could push her dress up and around her waist. 

"You make those pretty noises for me and take me just as you normally do. But this time i'm going to fuck a baby into you just as i have wanted to do since i met you." Y/n let out a small yelp as she felt his fingers reach into her underwear, her mind dissociating as he whispered words she couldn't hear into her ear. 

"No! You don't get to do that!" Coriolanus shouted all of a sudden, pulling Y/n back to where she now laid against the bed, her dress gone and her husband angrily stood between her legs, hands gripping the bed til his fingers were white as he seethed.

"I'm sorry." Y/n forced out, it wasn't often he noticed her mind was elsewhere, too consumed by his pleasure and how her body responded. She allowed her body to relax, whilst her mind ran through fields, dove into lakes and occasionally put her back into the game except now she was fighting against Coriolanus. Raising a hand she lightly touched his face, guiding him down until she could kiss him, soothing his anger as she wrapped her legs around him. Guiding him to where he wanted to be, allowing him to enter her as he sighed at the loving embrace, pulling back to push his head into her beck. Placing small kissing against her hot skin, hands roaming along her as he moved against her. Y/n was given reprieve as she closed her eyes, imagining she was swimming in the lake with Coriolanus, a memory she fondly looked back on. Two friends swimming together, and in her memory she could remove the look in his eyes, the way his hands touched her and instead it was a beautiful memory of a time when she felt safe. 

"You are so beautiful, i knew i had to have you. Since the minute you were picked you were mine, you were my tribute, to save and nurture. To protect. And now you are going to repay me, with a beautiful child for us to love. Although i do fear i will never love our child as much as i love you. But everyone will know you are forever mine, no one will ever hurt you." Y/n placed a hand on his hair, running it through his curls as she let out a sigh, spurring her husband on as he raised his head.

"I cannot wait to see you round with my child." Y/n nodded, pulling him down to her lips as she raised her hips to meet his thrusts, knowing his own words were spurring him more than any action she could do. He was in control.

Y/n sat next to Snow, their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren all stood behind them as he unveiled the 75th hunger games, the 3rd Quarter Quells. And his last hope of ending the rebellion. But all Y/n hoped for, was that the Mockingjay would sing and she could be free at last.

[sixosix]

requested by anon!! hope u enjoy, warning for profanity, fluff

As soon as Wanderer’s eyes laid upon the ball of fluff in your palms, he had said with a disdainful glare to “discard of that at once.”

But you aren’t having any of it. The little kitten curled up by your chest is looking up at you so adorably that you simply can’t discard it, no matter what your boyfriend might say. In fact, the shade of the cat reminds you of his eyes—but saying that would provoke him further, and you’re already on thin ice, letting the cute stray run around your shared home while he makes a face at each sight of its fur.

You coo as the kitten licks your nose when you hold him up to your face. “Do I name him after you? Can I name him after you? I’m naming him after you.”

His eyes narrow, glaring at the impossibly tiny space between you and the animal. “You are not naming it after me.”

“Kuni,” you negotiate. Not that he has a choice anyway because you already have your mind set on it. “Kuni, baby, are you hungry? Do you want some food?”

Your Kunikuzushi bristles, hackles rising. “Seriously? You’re doing this?”

The cat, as if beckoned by his voice, paws at him. “Meow,” the little kitten says softly. Wanderer, to the cat’s dismay, doesn’t respond; he simply rises from his seat and leaves.

So it’s established that you’ve long accepted that Wanderer is not fond of your new pet.

A crying shame because the cat adores him. You don’t know if there’s anything deep to his hatred for your new stray or if he’s just jealous that your undivided attention is no longer on him, but you took pity and decided to own the responsibility of taking care of it.

Which makes it a surprise to come home one day and see your boyfriend nestled against your bed with the kitten curled up on his chest, meowing as he smiles faintly and rubs its head with a finger.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re hungry again?” he murmurs. If you had been in another room, you wouldn't have heard it yourself. “Don’t get too greedy.”

Your breath hitches, too afraid to shatter this moment by bursting into the room. Then again, you should’ve realized that the cat has been sticking too long around him too often without something at play. Perhaps the reason why it’s so fond of your boyfriend is because of secret tender moments like this.

“Your owner will get mad at me if I overfeed you,” he says conspiratorially, rubbing his finger against the cat’s chin while it purrs and nuzzles its face further into his palm for more.

Your heart melts, a tiny noise escaping your lips at the sight of the ever-so-haughty Wanderer on the bed, all but cuddling with your pet.

Wanderer’s eyes snap the crack of the door, perfectly meeting yours as if he knew all along that you were there. “Not a word.”

You gasp, enough to startle Wanderer and make him jump but not enough to wake the sleeping kitten on his hat. Lambad’s Tavern is a little empty, with only an adult or two hanging around to drink their sorrows away or loosen up to their heart's content. And you and your boyfriend are tucked in the far corner, where no one would bother to peep.

“Kunikuzushi!” you cry out, hands hovering around his head in panic. “Kuni, careful, what if Kuni falls?”

Kunikuzushi the human(?)’s face twists in confusion. “You should have never named it that.”

“Kuni,” you hiss as his movements have caused the cat to stir, yet miraculously not wake. “Don’t let him fall, ‘kay? God, I can’t bring myself to even leave my seat.”

He sighs, long and heavy. “I’m not going to drop him. Have more faith in me, will you? I have a better sense of balance than any of you in this Tavern combined.”

“But what if he falls and you accidentally attack him by trying to save him?”

“I’m not gonna wind blade the fucking cat.”

You’re staring at the kitten, who is, unfortunately, looking all too much at home on Wanderer’s hat as if it’s more comfortable than his own bed at home. It’s even worse that Wanderer spoils the cat rotten and lets him sleep wherever he wants. Now, wherever he walks, he has a tiny animal asleep on the top of his head.

Wanderer huffs, squeezing your mouth with a hand to prevent you from arguing. “If you love the cat, you will get us food and avoid waking it up with your yapping, got it?”

“Aw,” you smile, “you don’t wanna wake him up?”

He scowls. “Are you going to let us starve?”

The sight of him and the kitten looks too adorable. You can’t resist from agreeing to whatever Kuni the human is ordering you to do. You rise from your seat, leaving but not forgetting to kiss the cat’s head and Wanderer’s cheek, who flushes brightly and grumbles but doesn’t complain.

[stayinlimbo]

cat walk

pairing: lee minho x reader ft. soondoongdori requested?: yes; 100 followers celebration genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, i am only using my own cat experience, lowercase intended, slightly unedited word count: 935 note: thank you @infinity-tiny for the request. i definitely took some creative liberties with it but i hope you still like it ♡

if anyone had asked minho what he thought he’d arrive home to on a seemingly normal friday evening, he probably would’ve described his typical welcoming committee consisting of you shouting out a “hey min!” from somewhere in the living room or kitchen, and, if he was lucky, his cats poking out from their usual hiding spots to greet him. 

it most certainly wouldn’t have been this, yet here we are. 

minho’s hand hasn’t even released the front door handle before soonie’s pleading eyes bore holes into his soul. the cat’s large body is draped comfortably over your shoulder, but minho can tell that soonie would rather be literally anywhere else than where he currently is.  

the sound of rustling diverts minho’s attention towards the ground next to your feet. doongie’s sprawled out form rubs against a pair of shoes strewn to the side of the entryway as he noisily meows at the sight of his owner’s (father’s) figure barely stepping past the threshold. 

minho flicks his eyes back up as soft clicking noises reverberate around the narrow hallway, watching the final child hesitantly making his way towards your free, outstretched hand holding his favorite treat. 

“what are you doing?”

dori’s cautious steps halt at minho’s voice, making you quietly groan out in frustration.

“hey min, happy to see you, now shhh for a minute please,” you hastily whisper, gaze focused on the brown tabby. the soft clicking resumes and dori finally comes close enough for you to scoop him up in your arms alongside his older brother. 

you whirl around to face your boyfriend, who at long last has properly entered the house and closed the door. a radiant grin illuminates your face at the sight of him. if minho’s being honest, it tugs at his heartstrings a bit. you missed him and you’re so happy to see–

“hold soonie and dori for me, will you? i need to grab this bag real quick,” you rush out, not giving him much of a choice as you’re already transferring the two cats into his arms. 

okay, so maybe not. 

minho watches you jog over to a bag he didn’t see at the end of the hall, laughing at the tiny slip in your footing when you turn around to come back towards him. you plop down next to doongie, giving him a quick pet before fishing in the bag and pulling out a leash and a cat-sized reflective vest.

hold up. 

“you didn’t,” minho blanches, watching you put doongie’s head and paws through the green vest’s openings, hooking the leash to the rings that are now attached to the cat’s back.

“i did. soonie,” you reply, reaching up for your next (unwilling) participant. minho crouches down next to you, reluctantly complying with your demands. 

“you’re going out now?” he questions. poor soonie is not as cooperative as his younger brother, and it takes everything within minho to not save him out of pity for what is to come. 

“yes, they’re more frisky in the evening—dori—so i thought ‘why not?’”

“but it’s dark outside,” minho tries to reason, passing you the final feline. it’s of no use, you are too far gone. 

“that’s what the reflective vests are for. duh,” you counter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile as you let dori leap out of your hold. “there, don’t they look ready for the outdoors?”

the cats are all sprawled in different positions on the floor. soonie still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doongie is preoccupied with swatting the bag now, and if dori could make himself any smaller, he would turn into a perfectly shaped ball. 

no, ready isn’t the word minho would use. 

you must see the hesitance still lingering behind his eyes because  this time you sift through the bag to retrieve a human-sized reflective vest and pull it over your sweatshirt. 

“if it makes you feel any better, i’ll be wearing this the entire time with them to be extra safe. please, please, please let me try this,” you beg, looking at him with your best imploring eyes. 

minho has to give it to you, you’ve gotten better at this. you must’ve been practicing after the last time he told you “no” to something he can’t even remember at this point. 

he lets out a sigh at your unwavering gaze, finally giving in to your pleas. “...did you at least get me one?”

“of course i did, who do you think i am?” you scoff lightly, digging through the bag and extending your hand towards him with his very own green reflective vest. 

as minho slips on what, in his opinion, is the ugliest vest he’s ever seen in his life, he can’t help the smile blooming on his face growing wider. although this may be one of the weirdest methods (and he means it) you’ve used to get the family all together, he can see the commitment and energy you put into making sure everyone would be safe. 

you don’t need to know right now that he tried this years before he met you and that the cats will give up entirely about ten steps away from the walkway. he’ll let you discover that on your own. 

and as you call “hurry up, let’s go!” to him halfway out the door with soonie and dori in your arms, doongie trailing slowly by your feet trying to bite the loose leash dangling in front of his face, minho knows he wouldn’t trade this for the world. not when he has the ones he loves most all in one place.

────────────────────────────────────────────

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz

[patrophthia]

congrats for the 1K!! would love to read a fic where reader has been loosing her vaseline lip therapy boxes and she asks theo where it’s gone, he says he doesnt know abt them but he took some 2 see why reader likes it sm & now hes obsessed aswell 🥹 thx uu

hi omg thank you! i always see you on my notifs and am so glad you finally sent in an ask!!!

dirty little liar | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, shy theo and he’s so cute about it

part of my 1k celebration event !

Theodore Nott (your beloved boyfriend) is a dirty little liar. He wasn’t a good liar at the start of your relationship, and he sure as hell wasn’t one now; sitting pretty on the Slytherin’s common room sofa with his bag a few inches away from him, the flaps open after his attempts at pulling out a quill.

You’re slightly frustrated when you find him, brows furrowed as you scan your surroundings for the small tub you’ve grown so fond off. “Theo, have you seen my lip therapy?”

Theodore cocks his head at your words, feigning cluelessness as to what your ‘lip therapy’ was. “No?” He supplies, sounding unsure of himself.

You don’t really think too much of it though, this was the third time this week you’ve asked him this very question. Each time pretending as if he doesn’t know what it was you’re looking for.

“Are you sure?” You ask again with a slight disappoint glint in your eyes.

He hesitates, wanting to let up yet he’s played this game for too long to let loose of it so easily. “Mhmm,” he hums.

You sigh, taking a seat besides him on the sofa. Your thigh bumps into his bag slightly, knocking out the contents within its pocket. You frown a bit, picking up the items that spills out of it.

Gum. Quill. A few sickles. Eye drops. Another quill. Vaseline lip therapy.

Wait, Vaseline lip therapy?

You hold the small container in your hand, looking up at Theodore suspiciously to only find him looking back at you with a sheepish smile. You have half the mind to throw it at his face and call him a filthy liar while the other half of you want to shut down and take in the utter betrayal from your boyfriend’s actions. Instead, you stay calm and ask him to: “explain yourself.”

Theodore bites the corner of his cheeks, eyeing the tub in your hand carefully. “Uhm— you’ve always had it— it was always laying around, and I knew you used it so kept it for you.”

“You kept it for me?” You ask him, untrusting. Theodore nods. “Then why did you say no when I asked you if you’ve seen it.”

He’s dead. Not figuratively. He just really fucked up, didn’t he? “I forgot?” As if it couldn’t have gotten worse, he gives you the worst lie you’ve ever heard.

“Right.” You’re nodding, and he thinks he might actually get away with it. But things are never that easy, is it? “Tell me the truth or we’re through.”

Surely, you don’t mean— nope, your face is too stern for you to be bluffing. He’s shy when he answers you truthfully: “you’re always using it I just— I wanted to know why you liked it so much so I tried it and just forgot to place it back where I found it.”

“And the other two?”

“Malfoy and Zabini saw me using it and stole it for themselves,” he grunts, clearly annoyed by his friends behaviors. You laugh and he’s the one to frown now. “What?”

“Nothing,” you giggle, “you’re just cute.”

The tip of his ears singes red, cheeks heating at your words. “So you’re not mad at me?”

You laugh again, rolling your eyes playfully as you tossed the small container in his direction. He catches it with ease, eyes shifting between you and the tub. “Just mad enough to remind you that you owe me three of these little replacements.”

When you stand up, his dark eyes are still on yours; lips jutting out slightly as your warmth slips away from the sofa where you sat mere seconds ago. And when you lean down, placing a short kiss on his lips (one he was quick to return) out of pity, you can’t help but comment on how it: “seems like the stolen products were doing its job.”

— from bee: i need to apologize for long it took me to write this, im really sorry bae omg TT

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I would love to read more about the dynamic between poly!marauders and reader. Like maybe some domestic fluff just showing the interaction between the boys and with reader. I love the way you write true poly with the boys together too 🥹🤍

Hi lovely, thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Shit!” Sirius hisses, another piece of popcorn splintering off his string. It’s nearly all cranberries at this point, and half the length of either yours or Remus’. “How are yours not breaking?”

“Patience,” Remus preaches, eyes on his needle as he slides it smoothly through yet another popcorn kernel. 

“Sounds made up,” James scoffs. The remains of his own popcorn are littered about his lap and his fingers are stained pink with cranberry juice. His problems lie in inaccuracy as much as impatience, constantly getting ahead of himself and pricking his fingers rather than his target. Fortunately, Rugby Captain James Potter is no stranger to pain, so he only extends the injured finger towards where you sit on the floor for you to kiss each time before resuming his work. 

“Completely agree.” Sirius is quick to hop on James’ half-constructed bandwagon. “They’re conspiring against us, keeping the real secrets of success to themselves.” 

“They’re focussing on their work,” you say, grinning when Sirius’ foot nudges your shoulder meanly, “which is how they keep from messing up.” 

“Cruel,” he murmurs, but you only hum, a wordless You know I’m right. And he does, because he goes quiet. 

James could never stand silence. “It’s almost cold enough for a fire,” he remarks after nearly five seconds of it. “Maybe we could have one tomorrow?” 

“You just want to chop firewood,” Remus accuses. 

“I don’t mind,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands, and Sirius nods emphatically. Another piece of popcorn shatters in his hands, bits of it hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t deter him.” 

“I don’t even get to chop it anymore since you started buying it at Tesco,” James complains, shooting Remus a resentful look. “Now I just want to watch fire. It’s the last caveman’s pleasure you’ve left me.” 

You glance over, and Remus is looking downward, trying and failing to quell his smile. “Fine,” he relents. “We can pick some up tomorrow and have a fire.”

“Yes!” James leans around Sirius, planting a smacking kiss on Remus’ cheek. “Thank you.” 

“S’no problem.” Remus has gone all soft and blushy. You and Sirius exchange a fond, knowing look. 

“Hey, do you think we could pick up some of those gingerbread house kits while we’re there?” you ask the room. “We didn’t get a chance to do those last year.” 

“Patience,” Remus reminds you, recovering. “It’s hardly the end of November, we’ve got a whole month for that.” 

Your mouth pulls dissatisfiedly. “Yeah, but last year we thought the same thing and then we ran out of time.” 

“You know what we should do?” James perks up. “Have a competition! Whoever makes the best gingerbread house in under an hour gets—”

“No,” you all say on top of each other. 

You shake your head. “It’ll take all the fun out of it, Jamie.”

“You can’t put a time limit on creativity,” Sirius agrees. “Hey, I got three in a row!” He beams, holding his garland up for Remus’ approval, and the other boy appraises it for a second, nodding sagely. 

“Well done.” 

“Sorry,” you tell James, who’s still pouting after the hasty shut-down of his idea. “We can race at something else if you want to, but that sort of stuff is supposed to be more…”

“Peaceful,” Remus supplies, and you nod relievedly. 

“Exactly.” 

“S’fine,” James sulks. He sticks his needle through a cranberry, a pitiful whine escaping him when it comes out the other side harsher than he’d expected. He extends his hand toward you palm up, and you take it, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his finger. “Mm, now here.” He leans down, tapping the corner of his mouth. You smile, pecking him sweetly on the lips. He tastes like the peppermint chapstick he uses this time of year, which you love and Sirius abhors (he thinks all mint tastes like toothpaste). “Alright,” James says, lips curving against yours, “now it’s actually fine.” 

“Scoundrel,” Sirius accuses. “My poor darling, do you feel used?” 

“Not terribly,” you admit, but it’s no deterrence to Sirius, who reaches down to haul you into his lap. Your garland trails after you, overlapping with his. You settle in contentedly. 

“Who’s the scoundrel now,” James objects. “You can’t just move her about like she’s got no will of her own.” 

You’re perfectly happy to be wherever they want you, but you aren’t going to say that. “Does anyone fancy a hot chocolate? I just got those peppermint marshmallows.” 

Sirius makes a face. “No thanks. James, make the girl a hot chocolate.” 

“Why me?” James objects. 

“I’ll have one too,” Remus says. 

“It’s her idea, why doesn’t she make them?”

“Because she,” Sirius says, weaving his arms under yours to resume stringing up his garland in front of you, “is occupied. Go on.” 

James grumbles, but sets down his work. 

“Sorry,” you say, making your eyes extra big. It’s half sincere apology, half completely unapologetic beguilement, and James cracks quickly, kissing your cheek to show he’s not really upset. Then he kisses Sirius too, just for fun. 

“I wanted a hot chocolate anyway,” he says, heading into the kitchen. 

You fall into an easy silence as he works, the kettle gurgling in the background while you relax against Sirius’ chest, nearly finished with your garland. You wonder if you should offer to do his for him, even though you know the other two will definitely make fun of you for letting him off the hook. You think you will anyway. 

“Oh!” Sirius straightens, causing you to shift against him uncomfortably. He ignores the slighted look you send him, bringing a hand to your shoulder to hold you more securely against him. You’re easily pacified. “If you want to have a competition, you and y/n should have a race for who can wrap the most presents.” He looks at you. “You’re always saying you love wrapping, yeah sweetheart?” 

The endearment only slightly softens the look you’re giving him. Must everyone try to ruin your holiday rituals with racing and competitions? You know he’s only brought it up out of selfishness, too; Sirius hates wrapping gifts, and this is just another way for him to push the labor off on James and you. 

James, unfortunately, lights brighter than the tree you’d set up earlier that day. “Yeah!” He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet. Remus eyes the boiling water he’s pouring out at the same time warily. “What do you say, lovie? Maybe a couple of days before Christmas we can divvy up the presents that aren’t for us, then we just see who finishes first!” 

“Didn’t you already lose that competition the other night?” Remus quips. Sirius erupts in laughter behind you, but James only shoots him a hostile look (or his version of a hostile look, more of a squint than anything) before his eyes flit back to you hopefully. 

You roll your eyes, but this is one competition you think you might actually win. “Fine,” you say, smiling when he pumps his fist. “But I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, Potter. My gift wrapping skills are legendary.” 

“Oh, my love,” James croons, grinning as he carries in two mugs of hot chocolate. “My sweet, naive girl.” He passes one to Remus and the other to you, dropping a kiss on your temple. “I won’t go easy on you this time.”

[gallaghersgal]

TA lip making you cockwarm him while he grades papers because you couldn’t be patient and kept begging for him 🚶‍♀️

olive, i think this genuinely killed me. like im 6ft under. nsfw 18+. cockwarming, degradation, name calling, mean dom lip but he's secretly a softie, trust.

you're seated in lip's lap as he sits at his desk grading papers. it's a precarious perch but with the way you cling to his body it doesn't feel unsafe. his cock is brushing deep inside you, you've felt it go soft with time, as he made you wait and wait and wait for what you really wanted. you shift your hips just a bit, grinding until his tip just barely kisses your cervix. a pathetic whine falls from your lips, morphing into a startled yelp when a sharp smack! lands on your ass.

"cut it out," lip scolds. "so fuckin' needy. quit movin', you're gonna take what i give you, like the whore you are. y'understand me?"

you remove your face from its hiding place in his shoulder just to throw a frustrated pout in his direction, but he only shakes his head and threads his fingers through the hair at the base of your skull to pull you back tightly. you know better than to talk back but something in you wants to defy him. there's something to be found in the thrill of the chase, what you need so tantalizingly close, with him right where you need him and yet just out of reach. not without a great difficulty, you manage it, remaining quiet.

"you're gonna be good, right?" lip asks, his voice carrying a rough edge that has your walls pulsing around him. you feel him twitch inside you, watch him bite his lip before he adds, "gonna sit right here on my cock, an' do as i say?"

"y-yes," you manage, gasping when his grip on your hair tightens. he cocks his head as if asking, wanna try that again? "yes sir."

lip doesn't quite smile at your obedience, but there's a hint of fondness on his face. in that same stern tone that always has you willing and ready to do whatever he asks, he continues. "'ve got a deadline to meet, you know that. so you're not gonna keep squirming around, and whinin' an' shit. cause if you keep it up, swear t'god, i won't fuck you for a week. don't need t'do that to my poor needy baby, now do i?"

"no sir," you respond. "i can be good."

"good, good girl." he releases his grip then, giving soothing scratches to the area and smushing a quick kiss to your brow.

you're so eager to please, but when he tries to guide your face down to rest on him once again your stomach twists in sudden anxiety and you resist the pressure, letting out another small, needy whine. his hand moves from the back of your head to hold your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his own. you'd opened your mouth to speak but quickly close it again, frozen with intimidation, your eyes hiding from the intensity in his gaze.

"never fuckin' listen, y'stupid thing. i gave you clear instructions," lip growls, but when your glassy eyes brim with tears he finds an ounce of pity within himself. he ducks his head to meet your downcast gaze, and with a softer tone he asks, "what's the matter, sweetheart? need'ya to use y'words."

you stare at him for a few moments, whether it's to test his patience or relish in his fond softness you aren't sure. but time passes with his blue eyes locked on your own, in tune with your body and wary of any boundaries he might be inadvertently breaking, and you manage to spit it out. "kiss?" you ask softly, to which he huffs out a laugh.

his lips meet yours in a slow and firm kiss, giving you one, then two more before he separates again. the pad of his thumb traces over your bottom lip, pulling it into a pout. "that wasn't so hard, now, was it baby?" he coos, fingers moving to dig into the soft flesh of your hips. he adjusts you in his lap, makes sure you're comfortable, then one large hand is cradling your head and guiding you back to the crook of his shoulder.

"wasn' bad," you repeat softly. "thank you."

there's a kiss landing against your temple, and his lips move softly against your skin as he murmurs, "just a few more papers. then 'm all yours."

let's have a sleepover at mine | submissions closed

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader[2.6K] a bad dream, a concerned steve, mentions of cheating and self doubt-- and this is definitely not inspired by the way i woke up this morning.

Honestly, you thought you’d gotten over it. 

But upon seeing Steve walk up your driveway, you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t wait for him to get to the door, to ring the bell and ask you if you knew any pretty girls that would like to go on a date with him. It didn’t matter that that had been the routine for years now, one that normally has you rolling your eyes and batting at his chest until he caught your wrist and pressed a kiss to your palm. 

You didn’t wait for any of that. You rushed at the boy before he could make it past the hydrangeas that grew in your front yard, crashing into him in a hug he didn’t expect. Steve caught you anyway, the breath knocked out of him, his arms right around your ribs. 

“Hi,” he said through a laugh, hoisting you closer, your toes barely touching the ground. “Did you miss me or something?”

You mumbled some sort of reply into his shirt, hiding your glassy eyes and hot cheeks as much as you could. You’d seen your boyfriend the night before, it would have stupid to miss him— but after that dream, well. You felt pathetically desperate for him. 

You couldn’t even call it a dream. Not when you’d woken up tangled in your sheets with tears already burning at your eyes. It would’ve been embarrassing if the feeling hadn’t clawed at your chest for the rest of the day, images that your silly mind had conjured up, playing over and over in your head. You’d tried baking, you’d read for a little, you’d even sat down and tried to watch a movie about space and hairy aliens. 

Nothing had worked. 

And now? Now that you were in Steve’s arms, the feelings only intensified. Because this Steve was real and he’d never hurt you, you were sure of it. But still, could see his cold eyes in your dream, the humourless laughter, the pitying staters of your friends—

“Hey,” Steve’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, tearing you away from the familiar nip starting in the corners of your eyes. “You okay?”

You sucked in a deep breath and gathered yourself before you pulled back, peering up at the boy and giving him your best smile. It was more of a press of your lips, but you nodded and took his hand. “Yeah!” You said a little too brightly. “Yeah, yeah, shall we go?”

Steve looked at you suspiciously but he didn’t dig. Not yet. Instead he let you lead him back down the driveway, only taking charge when you came to his car. He opened the door to the passenger side for you, stopping you before you dropped into the seat with his hand on your chin. He grinned when you turned shy for him, his eyes fond. 

“There she is,” he murmured before he leaned over the top of the car door to meet your lips. A sweet kiss, a quick peck that you wished went on longer but you were sure your neighbours would have had something to say. “I didn’t even get a chance to tell you how pretty you look.”

You ducked your chin, wrinkling your nose. Four years on and Steve Harrington still made your tummy flip. It was a full on gymnastic routine in there when the boy looked at you with those eyes. You gazed back up at him, suddenly wishing you could skip the cinema in favour of clinging to him all night instead. 

“Yeah?” You asked. The sudden need for validation, for reassurance, was like a tidal wave. “You think?”

Steve frowned at that, confused by your question. Normally, he’d talk all sweet to you and get another kiss in return, a big smile and a happy hum, all the things he wanted to see from his girl. But right now, you looked a little forlorn. Smaller, quieter, with an uncertainty in your eyes that he didn’t understand. 

He pushed a hand to your jaw, coaxing you to meet his gaze, his thumb skimming over your bottom lips, your cheek. “What’s wrong?” 

Embarrassment burned at your chest, a white hot flush that creeped up along the back of your neck. “What? Nothing.” You were going to have to be more convincing. 

“Yeah, there is,” Steve accused. He was still eyeing you, gaze roaming over your features as if he could find the secret there. He didn’t mean to sound rude, but he knew you too well to fall for your lies. You blinked at him, a sad excuse for a smile stretching over your lips. “Baby—”

“C’mon, we’re gonna miss the movie, Steve,” you tried, smiling a little more brightly as he continued to frown. 

He didn’t say anything, just studied you a little more before he realised you weren’t going to talk yet. So he leaned in again and pouted at you, all sun kissed cheeks from yesterday's day at the pool, new freckles and too long lashes. “Gimme another kiss first,” he bargained. 

So you did, leaning up to meet him this time, pushing up on your toes as you gripped the top of his car door. Steve caught the back of your neck with his hand, holding you close so he could kiss you a little deeper, a little longer, like he could banish away your funny mood with the stroke of his tongue over the seam of your lips. 

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked once more when he let you pull away for a breath. His nose nudged your cheek, bodies kept apart by the door frame. “We can stay home, if you want.”

Steve watched as you considered and he could see you mulling over his question. But then you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth and shook your head, that same far away look still in your eyes. He’d been looking forward to seeing the new Indiana Jones movie since he’d first seen the trailer but he’d wait it out, for you. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assured him, already ducking into the car. You looked up at him from the seat with big, doe eyes, buckling yourself in. “I’m fine. Let’s go, come on.”

But you weren’t fine and Steve knew that. ‘Cause you spent the drive over to the shopping mall with your gaze set on the streets that were blurring by you. But when Steve curled his hand around your bare thigh instead of the gear stick, you grasped onto his fingers and didn’t let go until he had to park. Even in the cinema, as Steve bought the tickets and the popcorn for you to share, you clung to his side, chin pushed to his bicep and hand twined with his as he passed over his card, not even looking at the cashier as he peered down at you, the same concern making his brows draw together. 

And when Indiana Jones was fighting off another enemy and chasing after his hat, Steve made sure to offer you his hand across the seats, bringing yours to his lips when you took it before dropping them back into your lap. You played with his fingers the entire movie, tracing the lines on his knuckles, laughing when everyone else did but entirely distracted the whole time. 

You didn’t talk much on the way home. The streetlights came and went as Steve drove you both back to his, the yellow-amber glow giving way to navy shadows that made your sad eyes look even sadder and Steve felt a heavy ache in his chest over it all. He started to worry, that maybe he’d upset you somehow, that maybe you didn’t want to be with him anymore. It had to be him, right? 

But you tilted your head up for a kiss when you stood by the front door, waiting for him to unlock it. And Steve obliged, happily, ducking his head down to meet your lips, trailing his affection to your cheeks, your jaw, your nose and chin as well. He kissed you until you whispered his name, thick with fondness, smiling a smile that looked a little more real than before. He gave you one more, a lingering thing that was sweeter than the butter popcorn he’d bought before he was leading you up to his room. 

It eased Steve a little as you toed off your shoes and fell onto his bed, a clumsy shuffle up to his headboard so you could curl yourself into the mountain of pillows there. The boy was quick to follow, crawling up the sheets until he was crowding over you, manhandling you in a way you didn’t object to, letting him nudge his way into your arms until he was between your thighs and resting his chin on your stomach. 

He closed his eyes when your fingers found his hair, lashes fanning over his cheeks, humming at the scratch of your nails on the nape of his neck. And then he blinked at you, his own hand squeezing at your side until you met his gaze. 

“Are you gonna tell me what’s been eatin’ at you?”

Your face scrunched at the question, as if it was an awful thing to answer. But the heavy weight you’d felt at six am that morning came crawling back, forcing itself between the cracks in your ribs until you felt your eyes water. You took your hands from your boyfriend's hair and covered your face with them instead, wishing you could hide away under the duvet until you could wake up and start the day again. 

“It’s so stupid,” you told Steve mournfully, words muffled in your palms. 

“Babe,” Steve sat up and you felt the bed dip and shift as he flopped down next to you. His hands found your wrists and he tried to gently pry your hands from your face. “Baby—” 

You whined when he tugged a little harder, ignoring the way he laughed a little, but you gave in, only to bury your head in his shoulder instead. 

“Hey, come on,” Steve coaxed softly. “What’s wrong, huh? Is it— is it me? Is it something I’ve done?”

Your heart ached with the worry in his voice, an awfully sorrowful thing that made your eyes turn a little more glassy than before. You burrowed closer, needling your arms through Steve’s so you wrap yourself around him. “No— well, yeah in a way.” You heard his sharp inhale and you panicked. “No! It’s not, it’s not like that! God, Steve, it’s so lame, forget I said—”

Clearly reaching his limit, Steve nudged you away only to pull you back in, this time settling you on top of him, your legs thrown over his lap until you were coaxed into straddling him, chin to your chest as he tried to meet your gaze. His hands found the sides of your face , big enough to cover the line of your jaw too and he urged your head up until your cheeks squished between his palms. You pouted. 

“Honey,” Steve breathed out and his eyes were wide, caramel brown and panicked looking. “Please, you’re gonna make me burst a blood vessel here— it’s not lame, okay? Whatever is bothering you this much is not lame.”

You relented, leaning to the side so Steve could take the weight of your head and all the silly little worries that rattled inside of it. His thumb stroked over the apple of your cheek and he waited, one side of his mouth ticking up in a smile when your idle fingers found the front of his shirt. You clung to him. 

“I had a dream, alright?” You spoke to his collar, nose pressed to the boy’s throat, all cologne and laundry detergent. “It’s so stupid. It was awful though, you cheated on me with this— this girl and I don’t even know who she was supposed to be. But she was super pretty and you were so mean about it and—” 

You cut your own rambling off with an embarrassed groan and it only turned into a distressed whine when you heard Steve laugh softly. You rolled off him, letting yourself flop to the side so you could hide your face in his pillows but the boy followed suit. Fingertips dug at your ribs until you squealed and flailed, rolling over to battle away his wandering hands. But Steve was over you, hands on either side of your face as he carefully kept his weight up, his eyes bright and searching your own. 

You squinted back at him, heat clinging to your neck and your cheeks and you didn’t want this, you didn’t want him to make fun of you. Why was he smiling?   

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that it was dream me that was a dick and not actual me.” Steve grinned at you, even when you huffed back at him, but you didn't try to squirm away. “Babe, you shoulda told me, huh?”

“I told you,” you whispered. “It’s lame.”

The boy leaned in, nose bumping your own, foreheads touching. Your breath hitched at his closeness, the feeling of being almost kissed was one that never went away. His lips just touched yours, a barely there thing. “It’s not lame, it’s sounds pretty fucking awful, actually.”

“It was,” you agreed mournfully. “I woke up sweating.” 

Steve laughed at that, a huff of warm air over your lips and you couldn’t help but smile back, a lightness taking over that suffocating feeling that had been stuck in your chest all day. You shook your head at yourself, at your own silliness, letting your hands reach up to slide under Steve’s shirt so you could press your palms to his waist. You wanted him on you. 

“S’that why you’ve been holding onto me all night, huh? Like I’m gonna run away?”

You frowned, head rolling to the side so you could bite affectionately at his bicep. “More like make sure no one stole you,” you mumbled. 

Another laugh, still as soft, still as warm. “You know that won’t happen, right? Like, hell would freeze over before someone else caught my eye.”  

You were silent, eyes trained on Steve’s arm. 

“Babe,” Steve leaned in further, his thighs pushing yours apart so he could lie between them, one of his hands pushing back your hair, his thumb running over your brow bone. Every touch made your body hum. “Baby, you know that right?”

You conceded then, nodding as you turned your head back, lips parting as he caught them between his, a kiss that was much more heated than the others. This one had intent, a meaning behind it that he was trying to make you understand. 

“Would never do that to you,” the boy whispered, his words tumbling onto your lips. You swallowed them whole, used them to close up the yawning crevice that was intent on making your ribs crack. “Ever.”

“I know,” you whispered back and your hands were clinging higher, fingertips pushing into the lines of his back, the muscle that covered his shoulders so you could press him down closer. “I know that. That’s why I said I was being lame.”

Steve tsked at your language again, the awful way you spoke about yourself. But he let you drag him down, giving up on keeping his full weight off of you and he grinned into your hair when you wrapped yourself around him, legs circling his waist, arms around his neck. 

“Dream Steve is an asshole, huh?” He mumbled into your jaw. He pressed a kiss there, a whole line of them until he reached your ear and nuzzled his nose to the spot underneath. He snorted when you nodded your agreement. “Want me to have a word with him?”

You grinned something stupid, squealing when the boy rolled you both over, victorious underneath you when he saw your smile. A real one. You nodded, settling into Steve’s lap as he held your hands, fingers twined between your own. 

“Yes please."