#the more I’m processing it and it’s kinda sinking in

[rosicheeks]

🤦🏽‍♀️🙃

[rafecameronssl4t]

IM BEGGING FOR MORE FRATBOY!RAFE CAMERON PLEASEEEE💔

Trap Queen || Frat boy!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: hehehe missed writing frat boy!rafe also had no idea what to title this so I thought this song kinda matched idk

Warnings: mentions of sex, idk if there’s anything else

Word count: 2,042

MASTERLIST (frat boy!rafe x reader au masterlist)

“I have no idea what her problem is with me,” you mutter under your breath, your eyes flicking toward Jada, who’s glaring at you like she’d love nothing more than to see you vanish. Her gaze lingers, intense and filled with something close to hatred.

You turn back to Rafe, irritation bubbling up as you try to make sense of the tension hanging in the air. Rafe glances over lazily, his eyes briefly scanning Jada before he scoffs, almost amused by the situation. He leans back casually, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between you and tossing it into his mouth without a second thought.

“Probably ‘cause she was trying to get into my pants before we started dating,” he mumbles through a mouthful, barely caring to mask the indifference in his voice. Your body stiffens, eyes widening as you process what he just said. “Are you serious?” you snap, crossing your arms and staring at him, bewildered.

“And you didn’t think I should know this?” Rafe slows his chewing, his brow arching slightly as he swallows. His reaction is calm, almost too calm.“Didn’t think it was worth mentioning. She’s irrelevant babe,” he shrugs, his voice annoyingly nonchalant. “I don’t give a fuck about her.”

You turn to look at Jada again, and this time she isn’t even pretending to hide the jealousy etched across her face. She’s whispering furiously to her best friend, the sorority president, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe with an almost desperate need for attention. The way her eyes follow Rafe, hungry and spiteful, makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

She’s clearly still bitter, and her gaze shifts between you and Rafe like she’s daring you to flaunt what she can’t have. It’s more than just resentment—it’s envy, glaringly obvious, and you can feel her simmering frustration from across the room. Frustration swells inside you, and without thinking, you reach for Rafe’s hand, gripping it firmly.

“Let’s get out of here,” you murmur, not wanting to feed into Jada’s petty game, but unable to shake the discomfort gnawing at you. Before Rafe can say anything, you grab his hand, pulling him up from the couch. His surprise shows for a second, but he follows your lead, letting you drag him away.

~

“Fuck off,” Rafe growls at the sound of a knock on his door, still half-asleep and annoyed as he shifts under the blankets. His arm gently moves you off him, and you let out a soft whine, instantly missing the warmth and security of his body pressed against yours. He sighs as the knocking persists, louder this time, more insistent.

“I’m coming!” he yells, frustration evident in his tone as he clumsily pulls his boxers up his legs, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He’s barely awake, his movements sluggish, but the incessant knocking has him on edge. Just as Rafe reaches for the door, he pauses, his hand hovering over the knob.

A frown crosses his face. It wouldn’t be any of his frat brothers—they’d all gone home for the long weekend. Suspicion sharpens his senses, and he leans toward the peephole, squinting as he peers through it. His gut twists the moment he sees who’s on the other side, Alice, your sorority president, and Jada.

“Shit,” he mutters, backing away from the door. He hurries back to the bed, his hand reaching for your shoulder as he shakes you gently. “Babe, hey. Wake up,” he whispers urgently, trying to keep calm as you groan, still half-lost in sleep. “Jada and Alice are outside,” he says, his voice low but urgent.

The words barely sink in before you’re wide awake, panic flooding your system. “What?” you whisper, your voice strained with disbelief as you sit up, your heart racing. In an instant, you’re scrambling to grab your clothes, your mind spinning. “What are they doing here?” you hiss, pulling your jeans up your legs in a rush.

Your fingers fumble as you try to fasten them, your breath quickening with every second. Rafe’s hands are already on your back, tying up the straps of your top with quick, precise movements. “Fucked if I know,” he mutters, glancing toward the door. The knocking continues, sharper and more demanding this time, as Jada’s voice echoes through the room.“Rafe, open up! We know you’re in there!”

Jada calls out, her tone laced with impatience, as if she’s holding some kind of authority over him.“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, cursing the situation. The last thing you need is Jada and Alice catching you here—especially like this. Your mind races with the possibilities of why they’ve shown up now, of all times. Rafe turns to you, his hands resting on your arms as he tries to steady you.

His eyes are calm but serious. “Just hide in the bathroom. I’ll deal with them,” he says firmly, his voice low and reassuring despite the situation. You nod, heart pounding in your chest, and quickly dart toward the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind you. Locking it, you press your ear to the wood, your breath held as you strain to hear what’s happening.

You hear Rafe sigh heavily before he opens the door, his voice low and tense as he greets Jada and Alice. The muffled sound of their conversation seeps through the door, but it’s hard to make out the words clearly. Your stomach twists as you wait, hoping that whatever they want, Rafe can get rid of them without making things worse.

Rafe opens the door just enough to stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a bored, unimpressed look on his face. He eyes Jada and Alice, his expression indifferent as he sizes them up. “Can I help you?” he asks dryly, making it clear from the start that he has no interest in whatever they’re about to say.

Jada and Alice exchange a quick glance, their irritation barely hidden beneath thin smiles. Alice, with her usual fake sweetness, steps forward, her voice dripping with insincerity. “Is Y/n here by any chance?” she asks, flashing Rafe the overly saccharine smile she gives to everyone. He sees right through it—he knows exactly how two-faced she really is.

Rafe lets out a short, amused snort, crossing his arms. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he replies with a smirk, clearly enjoying himself. Jada opens her mouth to say something, but he cuts her off before she can get a word in. “No, she’s not here. Why do you even care?” He raises an eyebrow, his voice sharp with challenge.

Alice, not backing down, continues with the same fake concern. “She wasn’t in her room while we were doing our rounds last night, and her roommate said she never came back,” she explains, though her tone lacks genuine worry. Rafe can barely stop himself from rolling his eyes. It’s clear they’re just fishing for information, and their excuse is weak at best.

“What, you have curfews on a Friday night?” Rafe deadpans, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He watches as the annoyance flickers across their faces, and he takes pleasure in knowing he’s getting under their skin. Alice forces a tight-lipped smile, her patience clearly wearing thin.

“Yeah, to make sure everyone is home safe and sound,” she says, her voice still maintaining that fake sweetness, though Rafe can hear the underlying frustration. “Right, sure,” Rafe mutters, clearly not buying it. He shifts his weight and straightens up, his disinterest obvious. “Well, like I said, she’s not here,” he says flatly.

The two girls stand in tense silence for a moment. Rafe can see a flicker of something—perhaps jealousy or frustration—behind Jada’s eyes, and it intrigues him. He watches as Alice turns, clearly ready to leave this awkward encounter behind, but Jada’s sudden outburst catches her off guard.

“What do you even see in her, anyway?” Her sudden outburst catches Alice by surprise, and she glances back at Jada with wide eyes. Rafe raises an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by her boldness. “Jada, let’s just go. She’s not here,” Alice mutters, her hand gently squeezing Jada’s arm, as if trying to ground her. Rafe can’t resist interjecting. “Yeah, Jada. She’s not here,” he mocks, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans casually against the doorframe.

Rafe’s disdain for Jada is palpable, and he relishes the chance to get under her skin. The flush of anger spreads quickly across her cheeks, her fists clenching at her sides as if holding back an explosion of frustration. The heat radiates off her in waves, her glare sharp and unyielding, her eyes narrowing with contempt.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she snaps, her voice bitter, teetering on the edge of desperation. Her gaze burns into him, full of resentment. “You think you can just parade around with her like she’s some prize to be won. What makes her so special?”

Rafe meets her gaze head-on, completely unfazed. He tilts his head slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. “Why are you so obsessed with my fucking girlfriend, Jada?” His voice cuts through the tension like a blade, catching her off guard for just a second. She falters, her posture stiffening at the unexpected challenge.

“This is clearly between you and me, so leave Y/n out of it,” Rafe continues, his tone sharp and unwavering. He steps closer, his expression darkening with warning. “You got a problem with me? Fine. But don’t drag her into whatever this is.”Jada’s eyes flash with frustration, her lips tightening as she struggles to maintain her composure.

She clearly wasn’t expecting Rafe to call her out so directly, and the protectiveness in his voice stings more than she wants to admit. “You think you can just blow me off like I’m nothing?” she hisses, her voice trembling slightly. “I see how you look at her, how you act like she’s so perfect, like she’s better than everyone else.” There’s a bitterness in her words, a jealousy she’s no longer able to hide.

Rafe raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “If you think this is about anything more than your own jealousy, you’re delusional,” he says bluntly. His tone is calm, almost amused, as if he’s thoroughly enjoying watching her squirm. “If you’ve got some fantasy that I ever wanted anything to do with you, that’s on you, not me.”

“Get over yourself. I don’t want you, and I never fucking did,” Jada opens her mouth, clearly intending to argue, but no words come out. For a moment, she’s frozen, her face a mixture of shock and hurt, as if she never expected him to be so blunt. The silence stretches, heavy and uncomfortable. Rafe leans back against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a lazy air of indifference. He knows he’s won.

“Why don’t you take your little jealousy trip somewhere else?” he says with a bored tone, as if she were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. His words only fuel her fury, but he doesn’t care—he’s already dismissed her in his mind. Jada’s fists tremble at her sides, her frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

She glares at him one last time before spinning on her heel and storming off, her heels clicking angrily against the floor. Alice glances at Rafe for a moment, but she’s smart enough not to say anything. She shoots Rafe a scowl that could cut through steel, her frustration evident. “Leave Y/n alone. Don’t test me,” Rafe warns, his tone lowering to a menacing growl.

There’s no way he’ll allow them to interfere in your life, not when they’re so clearly motivated by envy. Alice opens her mouth, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitates, measuring the threat in his eyes. After a moment, she seems to reconsider, her expression darkening with resignation. With a heavy sigh, she shakes her head and turns on her heel, hastily following Jada down the hallway. Rafe watches them go, a sense of satisfaction washing over him.

[goldfades]

pregnancy scares with luke hughes🤞🤞🤞 he would def be freaking out but it ends up being nothing!!!

you’re pretty sure luke hasn’t sat down for more than five seconds in the last hour. he’s pacing the length of the living room, one hand in his hair, the other holding his phone like he’s waiting for some kind of emergency alert to come through. it would almost be funny if you weren’t equally as on edge.

the unopened pregnancy test sits on the counter where you left it, staring at you like it knows you’re avoiding it. you don’t even have the energy to glare back at it—your nerves are too frayed. instead, you watch luke from your spot on the couch, clutching a throw pillow to your chest like it’s some kind of lifeline.

“what if it’s positive?” he blurts out suddenly, stopping in his tracks to look at you, his blue eyes wide with panic. “like… what do we even do? do we call someone? your mom? my mom? oh god, my mom.”

“luke,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm even though your heart is pounding like a drum. “we don’t even know yet. let’s not jump to conclusions.”

he stares at you for a moment, then runs a hand down his face. “right. yeah. no conclusions. totally chill over here.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, and he lets out a nervous laugh, sinking down onto the arm of the couch. it doesn’t last long—he’s back on his feet within seconds, muttering something about how his brain feels like it’s short-circuiting.

“okay, but seriously,” he says, turning back to you, his hands flailing slightly in that way they do when he’s overwhelmed. “what if it’s real? like, what if we’re—what if you’re—”

“pregnant?” you finish for him, your voice quieter this time. the word hangs in the air between you, heavy and uncertain.

he nods, his expression softening as he looks at you. “yeah. that.”

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “then we figure it out. together.”

“together,” he repeats, like he’s testing the word out. he nods again, a little firmer this time, and for a second, it almost looks like he’s calming down.

and then he notices the test on the counter. “okay, no, i can’t do this anymore,” he says, running a hand through his hair again. “you have to take it. right now. i’m dying over here.”

“you’re dying?” you ask, a hint of exasperation creeping into your tone. “i’m the one who might be pregnant, luke.”

“exactly!” he says, throwing his arms out dramatically. “which is why we need to know, like, immediately.”

you roll your eyes but head toward the bathroom anyway, grabbing the test as you go. “you’re not allowed to say a word until i’m done,” you warn, and luke holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“not a word,” he promises, but the second the door closes behind you, you hear him mutter to himself, “a baby, though… that’d be kinda wild.”

you groan, trying to block him out as you do what the test requires, but by the time you’re done and waiting for the results, you can hear him outside the door, talking to himself at full speed.

“like, obviously, i’d teach them how to skate,” he says, his voice muffled but clear enough to make you laugh quietly to yourself. “they’d have to start early—i mean, that’s the key, right? i was skating at, what, three? two? can kids even walk at two?”

you open the door and lean against the frame, test still in your hand, watching as he paces the living room like he’s coaching his imaginary future kid through a big game. he doesn’t notice you right away, too caught up in his rambling.

“and names,” he continues, gesturing animatedly. “if it’s a boy, we could name him something strong, like—i don’t know, jack junior or something. no, wait, that’s awful. maybe something cool like—like hunter! or brody! oh my god, i’d totally have a brody.”

you clear your throat, and luke freezes mid-gesture, spinning to look at you like a kid caught stealing cookies. “uh, hi,” he says, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “how’d it go?”

“it’s still processing,” you say, holding up the test. “but, uh, sounds like you’ve been busy.”

his cheeks flush a deep red, but he grins, unabashed. “okay, but hear me out—if it’s a girl, we name her something badass. like, she could totally pull off a name like harper. or sutton. sutton hughes. tell me that doesn’t sound like a star.”

you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at him. “you’re already planning their whole life, and we don’t even know if there’s a them yet.”

“well, yeah,” he says, plopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh. “i mean, it’s kinda fun to think about, you know? like, little hockey practices, bringing them to the rink, teaching them how to chirp jack in the most creative way possible…”

you sit beside him, the test now lying face down on the coffee table, its results still unknown. “you’d be a good dad,” you say softly, watching as his grin softens into something a little more genuine.

“you think so?” he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“yeah,” you reply. “a chaotic one, maybe. but a good one.”

before he can respond, the timer on your phone goes off, signaling the test is ready. both of you freeze, the moment suddenly much heavier than the lighthearted banter that preceded it.

“you wanna look, or should i?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

luke swallows hard, then gestures toward you. “you. i’ll just—” he flops back dramatically against the couch cushions. “—be over here, dying inside.”

with a nervous laugh, you reach for the test, flipping it over. your eyes scan the result, and your shoulders sag with relief. “negative,” you say, holding it up for him to see.

luke lets out the loudest, most exaggerated exhale you’ve ever heard, his head falling back against the couch. “oh, thank god,” he says, a hand over his heart like he just avoided a near-death experience.

you laugh, watching as he sits up, still a little wide-eyed. “i thought you were ready to start a hockey dynasty,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

“oh, don’t get me wrong,” he says with a grin. “i’m glad it’s not happening now, but, like… someday? sutton hughes is definitely gonna rule the world.”

you roll your eyes, laughing as he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “you’re impossible,” you mutter, but there’s no real bite to it.

“and you love me for it,” he quips, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you don’t reply, but the smile on your face says enough.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[michanvalentine]

Let’s talk about the bite scene. I’m sure it’s already been discussed to death, but through an unexpected detour (I’ve discovered I enjoy making videos about my BG3 adventures), I found myself analyzing frame by frame of Astarion baring his fangs.

First of all, the scene is pure tragicomedy. Tav/Durge wakes up abruptly to find this guy hovering over them with a furrowed brow, eyes squeezed shut, and mouth wide open, ready to sink his teeth into their jugular. Or close enough. Because Astarion in that moment isn’t scary, he isn’t even infuriating—he’s just plain ridiculous. And honestly? Kinda ugly to look at! xD

And it’s tragic because this incredibly agile guy, with such a delicate touch and extreme dexterity, has no idea what the hell he’s actually doing. He’s a vampire, for gods’ sake—this should be the easiest thing in the world for him.

Instead, he’s there, hesitating, gauging how and where to bite, with his EYES CLOSED, for crying out loud. He’s not even looking at what he’s doing, as if he’s the one who’s afraid.

And that’s exactly it—Astarion is disobeying Cazador’s direct orders, and the consequences could be terrible. If, after granting him a taste, you choose the dialogue option to use force to push him away, Astarion’s expression once again speaks volumes.

Just for a moment, as he’s pushed aside, it’s a sea of emotions. There’s deep fear—fear of having disobeyed, fear of being struck by Tav/Durge for it—and overwhelming astonishment at having tasted, for the first time in his unlife, the blood of a sentient creature. And in that, he discovers a fleeting moment of peace, of happiness.

And all of this is overwhelming for him—more than he can process. For many, this scene is infuriating, and rightly so—the game even gives you the option to drive a stake through his heart right then and there. But for me, in that moment, Astarion just evokes so much, so much tenderness.

[syluslnd]

hii i have a few requests i hope you dont mind 🥺🫶 feel free to pick to do any if they have not been done yet, they are kinda mostly prompts though 😭

sylus with a streamer/gamer s/o. like those fics where the fans go crazy when sylus shows up in the camera out of nowhere or hearing his voice. and sylus just being supportive about their hobby 😞❤️

sylus reaction when they have a cosplayer s/o, especially when they come home every day and they meet a new character daily or every other day 😭🤣

sylus reaction when s/o gets period stains during their date

sylus with s/o who cant cook but not the those exaggerated types where they burn the whole kitchen, they just didnt learn how to cook, but can do the bare minimum of helping like slicing and stuff and very easy recipes (projecting because i can't cook but am helpful 😭)

when you get your period mid date

The evening had started off perfectly. You and Sylus were sitting across from each other in one of the fanciest restaurants in town, your skin-tight dress fitting you like a glove. The low lights, soft music and clinking of glasses around you added to the elegance of the night. Sylus looked especially handsome tonight, his gaze on you steady and smoldering and his signature teasing smile made your heart flutter.

Everything was going smoothly—that is, until you felt that familiar pang low in your abdomen. You froze, hoping it was just nerves. But then, you felt a sinking dread as the sensation intensified. Trying not to panic, you excused yourself, offering Sylus a nervous smile. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Take your time, sweetie” he replied with a slight smirk. “Don’t go missing me too much.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, giving him a quick wave before heading to the bathroom. But once you were inside, your worst fear was confirmed: a noticeable stain had appeared on the back of your dress. Panic bubbled up in your chest as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, mortified. This wasn’t just any dress, either; it was a pale color, practically a magnet for accidents.

Not knowing what else to do, you took a shaky breath and pulled out your phone, dialing Sylus’s number with trembling fingers. He picked up on the first ring.

“Miss me already?” His voice was laced with humor, but you could practically hear the smile on his face.

“Sylus” you whispered, cringing at how shaky you sounded. “Can you… um… can you come to the bathroom? I need your help. It’s an emergency.”

There was a beat of silence. “Are you hurt, kitten?”

“No! No, not hurt” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Just…my period..I’m stained!”

“Got it. Stay right there, I’m coming.” He hung up and you leaned against the counter, waiting anxiously. But as the seconds ticked by, you began to feel more and more self-conscious. What was taking him so long?

After what felt like an eternity, the bathroom door finally opened and there stood Sylus—with a designer shopping bag in his hand. You blinked, trying to process the sight.

“Sylus, what…?” You trailed off, completely baffled.

He smirked, holding up the bag. “What? Did you think I was going to leave my sweetie hanging?” He stepped forward, setting the bag down on the counter. “Got you a new dress. I figured you wouldn’t want to be seen with… you know.” He gestured vaguely, clearly trying to spare you any embarrassment.

Your jaw dropped, both at his thoughtfulness and at the brand-name logo on the bag. “Wait, you actually bought me a new dress? From there?” you asked, pointing out the door, toward the designer store just across the street.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Seemed like the right call. Plus, I got to take my time picking something pretty for you.” His smirk widened. “Had to make sure it’d look perfect on my kitten.”

You let out a small laugh, overwhelmed with relief and gratitude, though your cheeks burned at the thought of him going out of his way for this. “Sylus, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“How about you say you’ll wear it and let me get back to showing you off to the rest of the place?” he teased, handing the bag to you.

You reached for it, heart racing as you peeked inside. The dress was stunning, a rich, deep color that would look amazing on you, with a soft fabric that looked comfortable enough to help you feel more at ease.

“Sylus” you murmured, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Thank you.”

He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss over your forehead. “Anything for you, sweetie” he replied, his voice softer, his teasing tone gone for just a moment.

You felt your chest warm and you tried to look away, but he gently turned your face back toward him. “Hey, don’t get all shy on me now” he said, his smirk returning. “It’s cute, though. Didn’t know I could get my girl so flustered.”

You laughed, half-embarrassed and half-touched and stepped back toward the stall to change. “I’ll be right back” you promised, disappearing inside and slipping on the new dress. When you stepped out, you felt a little self-conscious, smoothing the fabric over your hips.

Sylus’s gaze met yours, his eyes lighting up with admiration. “Beautiful” he said simply, letting his gaze linger as if he were committing the sight to memory.

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze but a smile crept onto your face as you looked at him. “Think we can go back and pretend like none of this happened?”

He chuckled, offering his arm with a grin. “Of course, kitten. I’ll even let you hold onto the bag—it’s yours, after all.”

You laughed, taking his arm, feeling a surge of confidence as he led you back to your table. Sylus didn’t just make you feel taken care of; he made you feel cherished, like every little detail about you was worth his time.

And as you settled back into your seat, he gave you a wink. “Next time, just call me sooner. Anything to keep my kitten comfortable, you know?”

You smiled, knowing he meant every word. The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, stolen glances, and soft whispers and for the first time, you didn’t feel an ounce of insecurity—you were just glad to have Sylus by your side

[doiliedaze]

Breathe in, Breathe out

Domestic! Sevika x reader

Warnings: suffocation training ☺️↕️ size kink kinda, pussy slapping, think that’s it!!

Genre: smut

───────┈ · ·

A/N: when I tell y’all I got myself a little flustered cause I need her so bad🙏🏿 reader is a bored bimbo housewife 🫶🏿

───────┈ · ·

You love trying new things, so when you’re cooped up in the house and Vika isn’t there you do everything! You cooked, re-organize, touch up your nails, have a fashion shoe for the cat, imagine Sevika fucking the shit outta you.

You being you, you love pushing your limits. You try to handle everything she gives you but damn near tap out everytime she choked you so tonight you’re gonna practice till it’s perfect.

When Sev arrives home, you do your usual greetings, kissing by the door, showing off that you’re wearing just her shirt and talking her head off as you follow her around the cozy apartment.

Watching her shower was enough to get you wet but it wasn’t about that tonight. She knows your stares and she can always read what’s going on in that little brain of yours, “what’s my girl thinkin’ about mhm?” She says softly as she steps out the shower.

“Nothing Vika” you whisper as you play with your ring.

Her naked form walks over and places you on the sink counter. Her buff arms on either side of you. “You okay baby?” Sevika’s eyes flicker with concern. You rub her face, “I’m fine I just…Sev can you build my tolerance?”

Embarrassed and not wanting to explain yourself you play with the plush of your thighs. Heat seeping into your face and you’re glad she can’t see it.

Her hand tilts your chin and her eyes tell you to continue talking.

“Y’know how whenever you choke me I can never handle it? Well I want to so I thought maybe if you like trained me I could handle it!”

She snorts at your explanation causing a whine to come from your lips.

“You’re so dramatic, how long did it take you to muster up the courage to ask?”

“Longer than I’d like to admit…”

To reassure you, Sevika kisses you softly. Y’all lips moving in sync, and she pries your legs open. Instinctively you take off your shirt and press yourself against her.

She tries to pull away from your lips, eager to keep her tongue down your throat you bite her lip hard causing a shaky groan to spill out the taller woman’s throat.

Your clit throbs in want so you move your hand off her bicep to touch yourself when she grabs your hand. “Not tonight.” You pout at this but you listen.

Sevika let’s go of your hand trusting her wife to obey her command. Her metal hand wrapping around your throat and her eyes asking if this is okay and you nod.

The cool metal starts to add pressure around your neck causing you to sit up some. You close your eyes and steady your mind as you’re already getting overstimulated. To ease you Sevika leans back in and kisses you.

You spread your legs further for her, in the process knocking things over. Your wet cunt presented for your beautiful wife. She slaps it hard causing a jolt in your hips and a moan to escape.

Her grip on your neck has tightened ten fold and you’re feeling pressure that’s slightly uncomfortable but beyond pleasurable. She’s splitting you open in a way. She plunges two thick fingers into your eager pussy, and tongues you till drool trickles down your chin seeping into the valley of your breast.

Her eyes evaluate if you can handle more and before she can pull away and ask you nod as much as you can.

With that she applies more pressure in her grip around your neck, you scratch at her bicep, digging in deep to drawl a little blood. A weak moan came from you woman motivating you to continue. Your free hand travels down her body and you strain yourself to play with her neglected clit. It is protruding and pretty, always wet for you.

You scoot closer causing her fingers to go deeper into you just so you can slip your fingers into her fat cunt. Her grip and movements stagger as she shakes, she’s a quick to cum when you touch her.

You try to build another orgasm in her as you feel her pussy pulsate around you but her fingers pump faster as you shake and arch off the sink and into her. Your orgasm crashes over you and you choke as you try to moan.

Sevika let’s you go and pulls away from your grasp as you both catch your breath.

There’s cum down the both of your legs, chests heaving and saliva everywhere. You look up at her and brokenly say, “round two?”

───────┈ · ·

A/N: this is actually my favorite outta everything I wrote!! Got myself a little hot and bothered lol!! Enjoy lovelies🫶🏿

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout

(Dividers- @dollywons)

[kamaluhkhan]

GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you wanted revenge on luke castellan)

read part one — THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis!reader (afab, she/her pronouns)

summary: you were very angry and possibly still in love with luke castellan. kill him or kiss him — you still weren't sure what he deserved.

warnings/disclaimers: spoilers for season 1 of pjo + lots of book references. reader + luke are around 21 for most of this. rough? smut (p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, etc...) 18 + MDNI ! injuries + blood + violence. reader and others drink alcohol + smoke. lots of angst!!! luke + reader have matching tattoos. twilight + other pop culture references. reader kinda gives 'hell is a teenage girl in her 20s' vibes. maybe slightly toxic dynamic between reader + luke but we love complicated relationships ♡

author's note: thank u so much for all the love on part one!! i got a bit carried away with this one oops, but i hope y'all enjoy it :)

♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo

(i. he had a savior complex) 

if you were less consumed by anger, you might have noticed the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you. 

no one was supposed to go into the forest alone, but you were 17 and reckless and not at all concerned about breaking the rules, especially if it meant proving clarisse larue wrong.  

you ventured into the woods, farther than you'd ever been before, with nothing except your knife and a chest full of determination to prove that you were strong and brave just like any other demigod, regardless of if you had a cabin or not. 

you were younger then, less disillusioned, and more willing to buy into those fantasies of power and glory, spoon-fed to demigods as truth. one that you hoped to cross off that afternoon: being worthy of attention if you could sink your blade into the next monster that dared to cross your path.

everyone would see that you’re not just some little, powerless girl with no reason to be at camp. 

and, sure, there was a small but not insignificant part of you that hoped your mother was watching, that she’d finally notice how much of a hero you could be.

you could have died that afternoon. you put up a decent fight, but soon enough you found yourself fallen to the forest floor: blade down, broken arm, bleeding out. a manticore inches away from sending you to the underworld. 

you weren’t angry anymore, the adrenaline had left your body. you just were a scared child, silently praying to deities you hoped wouldn’t look away like they always do. 

i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it. 

you closed your eyes, waited for your fate, and just when you thought all hope was lost — 

the sound of a sword ripping through flesh, an injured growl, and then nothing but your ragged breathing. 

your eyelids fluttered open.

it wasn't your mother, or any of the other gods, who jumped in to save your life.

standing in the middle of the clearing, gripping his sword, was luke castellan. 

he tucked annabeth’s invisibility cap into his back pocket and brought you to the infirmary.

"she's okay, though?" luke asked. he was watching you carefully, ashes from the manticore dusting his orange camp shirt. his arms were crossed, and it seemed that he managed to defeat the monster relatively unscathed.

lee fletcher, son of apollo, nodded as he set your injury. 

"nothing more than a broken arm and minor concussion. make sure your girl gets lots of rest, okay? no more monster hunting. probably has to sit out capture the flag tomorrow, too.”

you ignored the churning in your stomach when lee assumed you were luke’s girl. luke didn’t bother correcting him. 

lee left to get you some ambrosia to speed the healing process, leaving you and luke alone in the room. 

“you know, i’m not a damsel in distress you have to follow around, waiting to save. i’m not your girl.” 

“seriously?” he raised an eyebrow, but his cheeks became slightly flushed. “you would be dead if it wasn’t for me. i heard what happened with clarisse, but gods — you didn’t have to go and get yourself killed to prove something.” 

he was right, of course. part of you wanted to argue with him for always having to be the hero, but the fight lingering in your throat wasn’t enough to act on. you just sighed and looked away, feeling too impulsive and powerless and exhausted down to your bones. 

you felt the bed dip beside you, and then a hand on your shoulder. it was warmer than usual, but the calloused skin still felt familiar on yours.

“they’re not worth it, okay? that’s what you’re always telling me.”

luke’s voice was lower than before, a touch of bitterness laced through.

“yeah, well you never believe it,” you replied, voice hollow. “so why should i?” 

clarisse entered the infirmary before he could answer. luke was instantly on his feet, blocking you from her view, hand on the hilt of his sword.

“what are you doing here?” he practically growled. 

“i heard what happened,” clarisse explained, looking past luke to catch your eye. you waved at her with your newly applied cast. “i’m sorry about what i said earlier, if that had anything to do with it.”

at that point, you were still trying to figure out where you stood with clarisse. she had arrived at camp just before the new year. you’d been so used to new campers being younger than you, and it was nice to have someone the same age to be friends with. 

it wasn’t until the start of march, around two weeks ago, that ares had claimed her. ever since, there had been a newfound animosity between you, leading up to your explosive argument earlier that day. part of you had a feeling she was just trying to fit in with her siblings. it was a subtle thread woven throughout the camp, especially with the ares kids: this hierarchy of power according to the gods, with you on the lower end because your mother was only a minor goddess. 

needless to say, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before; it was just that the words pierced through your thick skin when coming from a friend. 

but the very fact that she came to visit you, that she apologized and seemed to regret that you’d gotten hurt, healed you more than the ambrosia lee was just coming back to give you. 

“thanks, clarisse,” you said after a mouthful of ambrosia. 

even with an established truce, luke didn’t move away from you. in fact, he puffed his chest out a bit more. 

“if you say anything like that to her again, i swear to all the gods —”

“i just said sorry, castellan,” clarisse scoffed. “now get out of the way so i can sign her cast.” 

clarisse attempted to move closer, but luke stayed planted where he was.

“you are not getting anywhere close to her,” luke warned. 

“easy, tiger.” you got up to put your hand on his arm, but luke jerked away from your touch. your fingers brushed against his skin however, and even that brief moment was enough to shock you with its temperature. you tried again, this time bringing a hand to his neck, and he let out a hiss upon contact. his pulse seemed quicker than normal.

“are you feeling okay?”

“i’m just fine,” he huffed, and stormed out of the infirmary.

a few days later, you were training with clarisse, when silena beauregard ran into the arena and interrupted you.

“it’s luke,” she coughed, out of breath. “he’s in the infirmary—”

you sprinted towards the big house before silena could finish her sentence. 

when you reached the infirmary, luke was being held back by lee and a few others, screaming that he needed to go find you or you’d die. he was holding his sword, and campers wrestled to remove it from his grip. the sleeve of his shirt lifted up slightly, and that was when you noticed it: a gash across his bicep, shallow, but turning a sickly green. the rest of his skin was flushed, his eyes frantically searching for someone — you — and he was breathing heavily between sentences.

it turned out that he’d gone the entire week with the wound festering. one of the manticore’s spikes must have grazed luke, and he hadn’t thought much of it because he was so focused on making sure you were okay. 

manticore poison could fuck with someone’s mind if not treated right away. worse: it could be fatal. 

despite your heart beating out of your chest and the chaos you walked into, you kept your voice gentle, but firm.

“luke.”

for a moment, everything stood still. luke froze, and the campers took the opportunity to get a better hold on him.

he blinked at you and shook his head. “no. no. you’re not her. i heard her screaming from the forest and - and she’s in trouble. i need to —”

“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him. 

you approached him carefully and, despite some whispers of warning, you gestured at everyone to let go of him completely. they might have had a point, because as soon as they did, the tip of his sword was dangerously close to your chin. 

“you’re not her,” he insisted. “you’re just some monster trying to trick me.”

you stood in front of him then, and slowly raised your arm to show him your cast. a few people had signed it — beckendorf, chris, clarisse, silena. luke had signed his name too, of course, along with a poor attempt at a cartoon tiger that made you all laugh. 

“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”

there were a few moments when you held your breath, feeling the celestial bronze dig into your skin a bit more. and then:

“it’s…you. you’re….okay?” 

luke’s speech was slightly slurred. he dropped his sword like it suddenly weighed a thousand pounds; it nicked you on its way down. you didn’t care though, because luke almost fell to the ground, too. 

you gripped his wrist to steady him. 

“you’re probably not okay, though,” you explained, well aware of the urgency of the situation. his pulse felt weaker by the second, his skin burning against yours. 

“i’m….i’m fine. i just need to — she’s gonna die if i don’t —”

“i’m right here. i’m here because you already saved me, remember? you saved me, but you got hurt.”

 he shook his head slowly, and his eyes started to flutter close. 

“no, i’m okay,” he breathed, his voice smaller than you’d ever heard it. “i need to make sure y/n is okay. she needs me….” 

you swallowed the lump in your throat, seeing him start to fade away right in front of you. 

you refused to lose hope. 

no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.

“i’m here, luke.” you gripped his wrist even tighter to remind him.

“but —” 

“just rest for a minute, ” you insisted, guiding him towards a bed. “for me, okay?” 

as soon as you managed to get luke onto the bed and, more importantly, calm, everyone else sprung back into action. 

chiron was away for the week, so will solace — one of the younger apollo campers, but probably the best healer at camp — used some healing magic, while lee misted luke with cold water to cool him down and another kid dripped some nectar onto his wound.

luke hissed when the liquid seeped into his skin and reached out for you. you felt like the flesh might melt right off your bones, but you let him squeeze your hand for as long as he needed. somebody came around to put a bandage on your chin, too.

you'd always resented the gods, but that was the first time you'd really lost your faith in them. watching luke fight for his life even after saving yours, other demigods joining the battle, and you thinking: this is the life you cursed us with. you imagined the gods, with power to twist fate in their favor, simply enjoying a feast on mount olympus, hermes sipping nectar and not even aware that another one of his children is dying. you supposed your mother wasn’t any better either. her neglect felt like revenge for something you didn’t even know you had done.

after a while, the skin around luke’s wound lost its greenish hue. you released a deep breath when both lee and will declared that luke seemed to be on the mend — he just needed to get some rest, and, best case scenario, the poison should have run its course by morning.

you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.

you estimated it was around 2 am when you heard luke’s voice again.

“cold,” was all he said through shivering teeth. 

you wordlessly grabbed as many blankets as you could, and tucked them around luke. you waited a few minutes to see if it helped.

“so - so cold,” he shivered again. you reached out to check luke’s pulse, and all you could find was the faintest heartbeat. his skin looked pale in the moonlight and now felt ice cold despite his high fever earlier. 

no one else was in the infirmary then. you were wracking your brain to remember what you had learned in demigod survival class about hypothermia. something about warm drinks? you ran to the kitchen and made him a cup of hot chocolate — with cinnamon, just how he liked it. 

you whispered his name once you were back at his bedside. his eyelids fluttered open. you tried coaxing him to take the drink, but he wouldn’t even hold the mug. you didn’t think twice about climbing into bed next to him, gently sitting him upright against the headboard so that you could offer him tiny sips. you noticed then that he was still only wearing a tank top, so you took off your sweatshirt — which happened to be one of luke’s — and slid it on him. 

when the hot chocolate was done, luke sighed. some of the color returned to his face, and his teeth stopped chattering. 

“thanks, karma.”

you just hummed in response, setting the mug down on the nightstand beside you and twisting underneath the blankets. luke settled back down next to you. he brushed his thumb over the band-aid on your chin. 

“what happened? did clarisse —”

“easy, tiger. it’s nothing — just a little scratch,” you replied. 

you spared him from the whole truth. sure, there was a moment earlier when you didn’t know whether or not luke would hurt you. it was only a split second, because that wasn’t your luke. he shouldn’t have had to live with the guilt of something he did by accident, as a result of a poisoned mind.

“anyways, i should be thanking you. you’re the one who almost died saving my life. you were hanging by a thread just a few seconds ago. it seems like you’re not completely out of the woods yet.”

“well, i guess the fates are still deciding what to do with me.” he cracked a smile. 

it was a bit morbid, given what you’d been through the past 12 hours, and the fact that the manticore venom clearly hadn’t left his body completely. the possibility of his death had not completely disappeared, though you supposed that, as demigods, the risk always remained higher. 

fuck the gods. they weren’t your protectors. they weren’t your family. 

the campers who put their whole heart into healing you and luke, the boy who risked his life for you — they were your family. 

you took luke’s humor as a good sign. the luke castellan you knew — confident banter, radiant grin, heart of gold — was coming back to you. 

the luke castellan you would not allow die, even if you could still feel the cool bronze of his blade linger on your chin. 

(ii. he had an ego)

according to annabeth chase, it was statistically improbable for a demigod to reach drinking age. something always kills them first - a monster, a blade, a fatal flaw. the likelihood of survival only gets exponentially lower with each passing year.

she repeated that information to luke on the morning of his 21st birthday.

“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.” 

annabeth shrugged and hugged him before walking back to the athena table to finish breakfast. 

"you hear that, tiger?” you pointed a syrupy fork at luke. “you are literally saying fuck you to fate, just by being alive." 

"that’s the way i like it," luke quipped, and stole a blueberry from your plate. 

"hey man, happy birthday." chris patted luke’s shoulder on his way to sit across from you and luke. "so, i just talked to chiron and he agreed to let us go out tonight." 

you smiled between bites of your pancakes, reaching over to offer chris a triumphant fist bump.

“nice work, rodriguez.” 

"we're going out tonight?"

you pressed your knee to luke's under the table. 

"of course we are," you hummed. "we have a lot to celebrate." 

so, you, luke, chris, and a few of your friends — beckendorf, silena, and clarisse — went into the city to celebrate. one of luke's favorite bands was playing, and you had managed to snag a few tickets. you'd all entered a bar confidently that night, the fake ids you were at once so giddy and paranoid about no longer needed. 

there were few times when you could all just kick back and have fun, without having to worry about the responsibilities of being senior counselors. that night, you were all itching for a taste of freedom. or, at least, some alcohol. 

"happy birthday to the one and only luke castellan: a hero by any other name!" 

everyone raised their shot glasses, echoed beckendorf's words, and threw back their drinks. 

the night became louder, more vibrant. yet, even as you laughed and drank and danced with your friends, there was a heaviness lingering in your chest.

for most demigods, birthdays were bittersweet. each one served as a reminder of time running out because of exactly what annabeth said that morning. most half-bloods don’t even live past their teens, let alone the age of 20. you had the blood of gods flowing in your veins, and your lives were influenced by sinister, divine forces from ancient times. you were the new generation of heroes, protagonists of those greek tragedies that made mortals weep.

there was no guarantee that this would last forever, but all of your friends —  the people you loved — had beat the odds. 

so, who would blame you for getting a little sentimental? 

beckendorf and chris had wandered off to play pool, in hopes of winning some bets and free drinks. clarisse was flirting with some girl who caught her eye, and silena went to grab some water after having danced for a bit. you and luke were still in the crowd, swaying to the music. for one glorious moment, you were just a group of twenty-one year olds enjoying a carefree night out. 

under the flashing lights, you stole a glimpse at luke. he wore a simple white tank top and ripped jeans, paired with a leather jacket and some rings he borrowed from you so he could, in his words, look more punk-rock. his curls were messy, his skin glittering with a thin sheen of sweat. the chain he layered with his usual camp necklace caught the multicolored light and highlighted the sharp angles of his collarbones. 

whatever aesthetic he was going for, luke looked good. based on various eyes following him throughout the room, you assumed others thought the same as well. it made you just a little bit furious, feeling that he wasn't only yours to admire. 

“you good?” luke’s voice cut through the noise, but he had to lean in close.  

his fingers brushed against the section of waist exposed by your cropped top. you’d gotten so warm that you had to tie your flannel around your waist, but luke’s touch sent a shiver through your body. it made you somewhat dizzy, feeling the cold metal of those rings on your skin. even moreso, when you realized how much you wanted to kiss your best friend, sink your teeth into his smirk and taste the mint chapstick and tequila on his lips. 

to be fair, you and luke had crossed that line before, and you were in the fields of asphodel ever since. 

not quite friendship, not quite romance. something deeper, more volatile and electric. 

you didn’t want to make things blurrier than they already were, though. whatever you acted on that night could have just been dismissed the next morning as a drunken mistake.

so, you just nodded at him and turned back towards the band as though you were never thinking about anything more than the music. 

after a few more songs, luke commanded your attention once more.

“hey, didn’t you once say you wanted to start a band?”

“what do i look like, a child of apollo?” you joked, but luke raised an eyebrow at you, clearly wanting a serious answer.

it was slightly alarming, how well he knew you; through your childhood dreams and down to your core. 

“in another life,” you conceded. “maybe.”

“in another life,” luke echoed. he leaned in close again. “you’d be a pretty hot drummer, and i’d be front row at every show.”

your lips could have touched if you moved your head just an inch, but he pulled away before you did. he was giving you that classic son-of-hermes smirk, the one that made everyone swoon. 

the thing was, you were sure that luke knew the effect he had on people. you had seen him continuously bask in the praise of chiron and other campers, always preening for the crowd's attention, as if he had to do anything more than smile. everyone loved luke — he was handsome, charismatic, strong.

and, yeah, you weren’t immune. your fatal flaw: not loyalty, or anger, or recklessness, but luke castellan’s charm.

you had to keep yourself grounded. it would be a bad idea to cross that line again on his birthday, right? 

luke licked his lips as you kept staring at him. you could tell he was waiting for you to do something. 

maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the rhythm of the music vibrating through your bones, but you started thinking — fuck it. 

before you could act on that impulse, some person with bright red hair stepped between you and luke. she introduced herself, telling luke she saw him from across the room, and she'd been watching him all night, and would he by any chance want to dance with her?

luke seemed flattered, interested even. he flashed her the very same smile he had just given you, which left a bitter taste in your mouth. you excused yourself before you had to hear them flirt even more. 

you walked over to silena at the bar. she had a half-empty glass of ice water melting in front of her, her attention somewhere else. you sat down beside her and followed her gaze to what — who — she was looking at. 

“if confessing feelings to someone is hard for aphrodite’s daughter, then there’s really no hope for the rest of us,” you tell her.

silena whipped her head towards you. her cheeks were flushed a light pink. 

“i - i don’t have feelings for clarisse.”

“lena, please. we all know. well, except maybe clarisse.”

“what?” she blinked at you, eyeshadow shimmering in the light.

“yeah,” you said with a small laugh. the irony of it all: the head counselor of cabin 10  denying that she was in love with someone. “we talk about it all the time.”

“well,” silena huffed, cheeks now a bright red. “i guess i should tell you that the rest of us talk about you and luke.” 

you reached over to grab her water, your throat suddenly dry. 

“what about us?” you asked after finishing the drink in one long sip. 

“about how you obviously both have feelings for each other. half the camp already thinks you’re dating.”

you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen. 

“well, we aren’t.” 

that reality hurt more than the sharp pain piercing your brain from ingesting too much cold, too fast. you couldn’t even spot luke in the crowd — he and the redhead had probably gone off to some private corner. 

“people think love’s a joke,” silena sighed. “but they don’t realize how much power it can have over a person. it can make people —”

“cowards?” you suggested.

silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”

neither of you said anything for a while, two love-sick half-bloods slumped over a sticky bar counter.

suddenly, silena sat up straight. she tied her black hair up into a ponytail. perfect, of course, along with her makeup. you were sure you had sweat off the glitter she had applied to your cheeks earlier. 

“i am not a coward.” 

without another word, silena got up and glided towards clarisse, and you were left with an empty stool next to you. 

part of you was proud of her for following her heart. the other part couldn’t stop picturing someone else’s tongue down luke’s throat. 

“can i get a ginger-ale, please?” you asked no one in particular, hoping that the bartender heard your request for something to ease your nausea. 

“you sure you don’t want anything stronger?” 

someone slid onto the barstool next to you. he looked around your age, wearing a navy and red rugby shirt. he had what looked like a pretty expensive watch on his wrist, and he was already leaning in way too close for a stranger. 

“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.

“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.” 

you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.

the guy next to you didn’t care. he snapped to get the bartender’s attention. “two vodka tonics, please. that’s your drink, right? i’m usually pretty good at guessing.”

“dude, i said i’m fine,” you repeated through clenched teeth.

the bartender set two drinks in front of you and rugby shirt pointed towards them.

“well, i already got you a drink, so you at least owe me a conversation.” he slid the drink closer to you.

"i don't owe you anything." 

"oh, come on," rugby shirt cooed. "i don't bite." he slipped his hand underneath your skirt, nails scratching along the skin of your upper thigh, through your fishnets.

you growled at the contact and stood up abruptly, more than a little coincidentally knocked the glass over. the liquid splashed onto him. his flirtatious grin melted right off his face.

“jesus christ —you bitch,” he spat. “this is what i get for trying to be nice?”

“that’s what you get for trying to grope me,” you snapped. “but i could do a lot worse if you’re in the mood.”

his face was a pissed-off shade of red, his mouth formulating a response when —

you felt luke’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. you side-eyed him, and ignored the hickey blooming at the base of his neck.

“is there a problem here?” luke’s voice was firm, steady. 

it seemed like all the fight left rugby shirt’s body, and he put his hands up in surrender. 

“oh, sorry dude. i didn’t realize she was taken.”

you rolled your eyes. figured that this guy would only back off if there was a jealous boyfriend in the mix. 

“it’s fine, i’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“that’s for sure,” the guy continued. “your girl practically bit my head off for being nice and buying her a drink.”

your fingers tightened into a fist.

“that is not —”

“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”

“luke, what are you —”

“let me handle this, baby,” he hummed. “trust me, she’s normally a good girl. she just gets….harder to control after one too many drinks.” 

“i am this close to throwing my next drink at you,” you insisted. 

you weren't naive. you knew luke was putting on an act, but you weren't sure why he felt the need to appease this jerk and put you down in the process. 

you hated the way he was acting now — arrogant, condescending, borderline sexist. you wanted to storm off, you really did, but that would mean having to tear yourself away from luke, and.... you didn't hate the firm hold he had on you. 

he chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the guy knowingly, like they were the closest friends. 

“see what i mean?”

“that’s quite the firecracker you got there,” the guy complimented, as though you were a prize luke had won. “those are the ones you gotta keep on a tight leash, though.”

oh, your patience was wearing thin. if luke didn't take care of this guy soon….

“don’t i know it.” luke laughed when you barred your teeth at him. “look, we all came here to have a good time. why don’t you go join your friends again, and i’ll send over some drinks.”

rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded. 

“alright. thanks, man. and sorry again for the….confusion.” 

luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.

"no hard feelings. i'll be sure to keep her on a tighter leash, though."

rugby shirt walked away, laughing. you were just about ready to bite luke's head off.

you shoved luke away from you. your whole body felt like it was on fire. 

“luke castellan, i don’t care if it’s your birthday, if you ever talk to me like that again, i swear to all the gods —” you faltered when luke’s lips curled into a smirk. 

that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.

“what?” 

“i’m just waiting until you’re done chewing me out,” he said, clearly a bit amused. “you done?”

you hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “for now, i guess.”

“good, because we have about 2 minutes before our misogynistic frat buddy over there notices that something’s missing.”

he lifted his hand to show off the real prize of the night. 

“you did all of that….. to steal the guy’s watch?”

“well, duh. he was being a jerk and i’m the prince of thieves, karma. gotta use my powers for good.” 

luke winked at you as you stared at him in awe. 

“we really should go though. the others are waiting for us outside.” 

you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.

"what about the redhead?"

luke flushed, adjusted his collar to hide the hickey. "i kinda lost interest when she said i was hot for an asian guy."

"oh." you ignored the triumph in your gut. "sounds like a jerk, too." 

"whatever." luke shrugged. "hard to find the good ones, right?" 

luke turned towards the exit.

"wait.” you tugged him back, and luke looked confused for a split second. “you're one of the good ones, luke castellan. did i ever tell you how incredibly happy i am that you were born?" 

luke grinned. "you could stand to say it more often."

his smile was infectious. you liked this side of luke: protective, mischievous, a bit of a trouble-maker. 

it made you want to kiss him all over again.

(iii. he lied without flinching)

you couldn’t find luke anywhere. 

he wasn’t at the climbing wall, or the arena, or the forge. luke seemed to have a knack at vanishing when you needed him most.

when you finally found him, he was outside the big house, in what seemed to be a somewhat heated conversation with chris and a new camper, ethan nakamura. 

ethan nakamura, son of nemesis. you were shocked when your mother’s symbol — swords crossed underneath a set of scales — appeared over his head after two weeks of staying at the hermes cabin. 

you were still getting used to having a younger half-brother. 

“hey,” you greeted the trio, slightly out of breath from running all over camp. as soon as you joined them, a silence fell over the group. “i was looking for you everywhere, tiger. what’s going on here?”

“actually, we were just —”

“nakamura,” luke spoke ethan’s name like a warning. 

“i’m just saying, maybe we should consider —”

luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance. 

“i already said no. end of discussion.”

“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.

the trio was silent again, and you eyed each of them suspiciously.

“okay, seriously. what’s —”

“we’ll talk more about this later, guys,” luke interrupted. his tone was commanding. ethan and chris dispersed. 

once they were gone, you furrowed your brows at luke, not sure what they would be talking about that could make him speak so harshly. 

“what was that about?” you asked for the third time.

“nothing important.” luke gave you a smile that seemed to stretch a bit thin. “you said you were looking for me everywhere. wanna go makeout in the hermes cabin? i’m pretty sure it’ll be empty this time of day.”

you shook your head, no matter how tempting the offer. the scene you walked into made you so uneasy that you completely forgot there was something important you needed to tell luke.

“percy and annabeth just iris-messaged me,” you explained. 

“oh,” he quirked an eyebrow at you. “is their quest going alright?”

you repeated everything the kids had told you: medusa, the chimera, ares. clarisse maybe being the lightning thief. luke had to sit down on the stairs leading to the big house when you spoke that last part. you understood why — clarisse was your friend. 

sitting down next to him, you sighed.

“you don’t think….you don’t think it could be true, do you?” 

clarisse was hot-headed, sure, maybe a bit impulsive, but a war between the gods? that didn’t seem her style. 

you hoped luke would assure you, but instead he said:

luke ran a hand through his hair. “it would make sense.”

“what?”

he leaned in close, voice low.

“clarisse was there with us during our field trip to olympus in december. the gods are arrogant enough to leave their stuff in the throne room, and there’s not really any security. she could have easily snuck in when everyone was sleeping. clarisse….” luke let out a heavy breath. “clarisse is the lightning thief.”

“no. no. she wouldn’t —”

“it makes sense, karma,” luke insisted. he placed a hand on your knee. “clarisse is angry at the gods.”

“we all are,” you pointed out.

“well, sure, but her dad is ares. how else do you get the god of war’s attention if not starting a war?”

you took a second to process luke’s reasoning. maybe he did have a point. it was just that sharp pain in your chest keeping you from believing it. 

“we don’t know anything for sure,” you decided. “and until we do….we don’t tell anyone. especially chiron.”

luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile. 

“sounds like a plan.” he moved in closer and whispered: “now, how about we sneak away, and i do that thing with my tongue that makes you squirm?” 

you felt something tighten in your lower abdomen. you and luke were still in the sneaking-around-camp stage of your relationship; you both got a thrill from it.

at the time, you figured luke was just offering you a much needed distraction.

he kissed just below your ear to sweeten the deal — and how were you supposed to resist?

you didn’t even question how luke knew when the bolt was stolen, let alone how he seemed to have the theft already planned out perfectly.

(iv. he hid behind a pretty face and perfect teeth)

 it had been a little over a week since people around camp — including percy, annabeth, and grover, who had gotten back from their quest — found out about you and luke, together. apparently your friends had a bet going, meaning that everyone other than silena was less than thrilled about your announcement. they warmed up to the idea since then.

it still felt a little bit surreal calling luke castellan your boyfriend. 

luke often played the role of the perfect demigod, the one everyone should strive to be. he paid extra attention to new campers and made them feel welcomed. he did his chores on time, stepped in if more hands were needed for kitchen patrol, and spent hours going through reports for chiron. he taught sword-fighting and encouraged younger campers to keep practicing. he did participate in the occasional prank, that mischievous child of hermes streak impossible not to indulge in, but it only made everyone adore him even more. because luke was responsible, but not boring. he was incredibly skilled and driven, but also gracious. he was sensible and charismatic. 

you watched that luke — camp half-blood’s golden boy, the hero everyone either wanted to be, befriend, or date — and you were in awe. mostly, you wondered how he managed to bury the anger and resentment you knew was churning inside him, the same anger and resentment you sometimes let slip through. 

no, you were not as careful as golden boy luke, who showed no malice towards the olympians. to chiron, to everyone else, luke castellan respected the gods, honored them in everything he did, and taught others to do the same. 

that was not the luke who sucked a bruise onto your neck while suggesting something even you might consider blasphemous. 

“we can’t just - uh,” you had to catch your breath when luke slipped his thumb underneath the band of your sports bra. “we’d get in trouble, tiger.”

you felt him chuckle against your skin.

“since when do you care about that?” 

“since the king of the gods would probably strike us with lightning, or turn us into some horrible monsters, or curse us if we were caught fucking in his cabin." 

"that’s only if we get caught." 

luke gave you that flirtatious smile, the one he now reserved only for you.

it was that smile that led to luke settling between your legs, fucking you with his tongue and fingers, his other hand digging into your thigh to keep you from writhing too much. 

zeus’ cabin was, of course, empty, since his only known child was turned into a pine tree. you and luke had tucked yourselves into the one corner where the giant statue of the god couldn’t see you, setting a sleeping bag down on the cold marble floor and your discarded clothes scattered throughout. the dome-shaped ceiling was decorated with an enchanted mosaic sky that seemed to move. the only sounds that echoed throughout the room were moans as your orgasm washed over you.

"you're so, so pretty," he mumbled, wet lips brushing the skin of your inner thigh. he stayed where he was, awfully concerned with lapping up everything.

you whined his name when you found him taking too long, already a bit sensitive and wanting him inside you.

it might have been your conscious, but you swore you could hear a storm brewing, the threat of thunder and lightning looming.  the mosaic sprouted some clouds, growing darker by the second as if a countdown to your doom.

luke, on the other hand, was acting like you had all the time in the world, and then some.

he paused after his name tumbled from your lips again, and you tugged his hair. he propped his chin on your stomach to get a better look of you. luke was gorgeous, with his mess of black curls, deep brown eyes a little more dangerous than usual, smirk shining with your cum.

"yes, sweetheart?"

“get up here and kiss me,” you groaned. 

once again, luke took his sweet time. his mouth left a trail along your thighs and your hips, your stomach and ribs. it felt like he was worshiping every inch of your skin, scarred and uneven and tattooed as it was. luke took extra care in appreciating the sword engraved on your sternum, the tattoo that matched the one he had on his collarbone.

“hi,” luke whispered once he was face to face with you. 

“hey, tiger,” you matched the softness of his voice, contrasting the harshness that followed when luke crashed his lips into yours. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and once he sucked all the air from your lungs, you had to pull away. 

you informed him: “there’s a condom in my back pocket.”

“always prepared,” he noted with a smile, reaching over to get it.

you kissed luke again as he entered you, your nails scraping down his back. when he pulled away to look at you, you couldn’t meet his gaze. instead, you were mesmerized by the sharp contours of his body and the healed wounds that lingered, every scar that you knew by heart like they were your own. you had a favorite, too — the faint cut on his hip from when he, thalia, and annabeth were on the run and they had to jump a fence.

if luke hadn’t been thrusting into you, you would have bent down to kiss it. 

“eyes up here, beautiful.” 

when you complied, luke smiled and ran his thumb along your jaw.

“good girl,” he praised. “you okay if i go harder?”

you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.

“yes,” you finally answered.  "please."

luke brought his hand down to wrap your leg around his hip before he started moving faster. your head fell back against the marble floor, but you didn’t care about the impact. you just focused on how good it felt to have luke inside you, his strong hand on your hip, his warm breath on your skin. 

after feeling you tighten around him, luke let go a bit more. he dropped his head between your neck and shoulder, his curls brushing against you. as he reached his peak, luke bit your shoulder, hard,  to keep himself from groaning too loudly. you could have sworn that you heard thunder at that exact moment. in fact, it seemed to shake the entire cabin.

luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too. 

there was no room for pillow talk as the two of you rushed to get dressed and get out of there before the king of the gods lost his patience and struck you with lightning, turned you into some horrible monsters, or cursed you. maybe all three, maybe something worse.

you slipped on your underwear and pants, but couldn’t find the top half of your outfit. 

“do you see my shirt there?”

luke had just pulled on his boxers when he turned and passed the item to you. you weren’t sure why he paused for a second while doing it. then, he whispered:

“shit.” luke’s eyes were glued to your shoulder, where his teeth had broken skin. his cheeks flushed a bright red. whether it was shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know; but you were slightly taken aback. “i’m, i’m sorry, i — i didn’t mean to hurt you. i never want to —”

you placed your hands on his cheeks. 

“hey.” you whispered at him softly, and it was enough for him to stop rambling. you could tell he felt guilty, though, since he refused to meet your gaze.

“luke, baby, look at me.”

when he finally did, your heart ached. 

it wasn’t like you hadn’t done similar to luke. you’d never broken skin, sure, but luke seemed to enjoy — really enjoy — whenever you used your teeth in the heat of the moment. you just assumed he knew you wouldn’t mind the same.

but, one bite, and luke was almost reduced to tears, all because he was afraid of hurting you. 

“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”

luke didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed with concern. you kissed the crease on his forehead and reassured him once more that you were fine. 

 “if anything, consider it payback for the hickey i left that took a week to fade away.”

luke smiled softly at that, and you knew he was coming back to you. 

“you know, annabeth suggested that i go to the infirmary because of how it looked. i had to tell her i got it during sparring practice.”

“it wasn’t that bad,” you laughed, and so did luke. 

thunder rumbled throughout the cabin once more, and you swore the clouds were growing darker by the second. 

you were about to finish getting dressed when he grabbed your waist.

“look, if i’m ever too rough whenever we’re —”

“sparring?” 

“sure,” he smiled, thumbs rubbing circles on your bare skin. “whenever we’re sparring, just promise that you’ll let me know.”

“of course,” you hummed. “only if you do the same.”

“of course,” he echoed, and he pecked your lips. “i think it’s hot, you know? when you feel like you can let go. when you mark me. i like everyone knowing that i’m yours.”

you bit back a smile, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

“well, i think it’s hot when you mark me, too. especially when you bite me,” you admitted. 

“don’t tell me you’re still into the whole vampire thing,” he teased.

“oh, please. you were as obsessed with it as the rest of us. don’t you remember?”

as if either of you could forget marathoning entire seasons of buffy the vampire slayer on dvds rented from the nearest video store. you'd watch episode after episode with your friends, the six of you squeezing onto the small couch in the big house, sharing one bowl of popcorn and endless cups of coffee to stay awake.

you shivered out of the memory when he brought his fingers up to trace the bite mark he had left on you.

zeus could have sent more thunder. he could have created a whole godsdamned storm, but you wouldn’t have cared.

luke was so close that you had nothing better to do than to close the distance between you.

luke got bolder as the kiss became more heated — he sank his teeth into your bottom lip, his tongue sweeping over the crimson liquid that emerged, the tang of copper invading your mouth.

“easy there, angel,” you referenced, and felt him smirk against your lips before moving to nip at your neck. 

you trailed your hand down the front of his exposed stomach, outlining the contours and curves. with the moonlight reflecting in, accompanied by the crackle of lightning, it almost looked like luke’s skin was glittering.

“you’re so beautiful," you cooed, nails scraping against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen. "how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

“you won’t.” 

“i'm the lucky one." a shadow passed over luke's face, and you swore you felt his grip tightening on your hips. “i never want to hurt you,” he finished the sentence you had interrupted earlier.

at the time, you didn’t think he was even capable of such a thing. 

for better or for worse, that was the night you realized something.

you liked golden boy luke. or, at the very least, you tolerated him.

the rule-breaking, sin-committing, blood-sucking luke?

he was the one you were irrevocably in love with. 

except your life wasn't some neatly written, scripted coming-of-age story about fictional vampires and slayers. 

it had monsters, too. you just didn't realize who they were until it was too late. 

(v. he made you look so naive)  

there was blood on your hands, but you weren’t sure who it belonged to.

yours or luke’s — it was a toss-up that made you more than a little nauseous. 

luke had stolen the lightning bolt. luke had tried to frame percy and start a war between the gods. luke had begged you to join kronos’ army with him. you almost killed him because of it until you realized that he left percy to die. 

you summarized everything to chiron and mr. d once you had made sure that percy was getting help in the infirmary. the scorpion poison was still putting up a fight, but percy was strong. annabeth was there with him.

dread simmered in the pit of your stomach just thinking about having to tell her everything, too — to see the look in her eyes when she hears just how much her big brother betrayed her.

“and you have no idea where mr. castellan could have gone?” chiron’s voice was stern, moreso than usual. 

you shook your head, not particularly paying attention. you could still feel blood seeping from the blademark luke had left. 

“that’s awfully convenient,” mr.d scoffed.

you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“i’ve heard around camp that you and this luke were quite…. close,” mr. d said, pointing his can of diet coke at you accusingly. 

a wave of anger surged through you. it had been building in your gut ever since luke revealed his betrayal, and you didn’t care if it was a god who was on the receiving end of your wrath. 

“seriously? i saved percy and told you everything, and you’re here suggesting what? that i’m somehow a traitor, too?”  

“seems like the plot of a pretty twisted love story.”

your lips curled into a snarl, and you were about to pounce until chiron dismissed you.

you were in a trance for the rest of the day. chris was gone, too. ethan didn’t seem surprised. silena sobbed, clarisse comforted her, beckendorf cursed luke’s name. other campers kept asking about where their favorite counselor had gone, until they started growing weary of you.

because if golden boy luke was evil, what were the odds that his hot-headed, impertinent girlfriend was, too?

luke left you there, looking like an absolute fool for believing in him, trusting him, loving him.

you couldn’t unsee his blood on your hands. you might as well have been lady macbeth, desperately scrubbing out stains that would never leave.

vi. he was a vice you could never shake

calling all riot grrrls and punk rockers — this show is for YOU!!! come see the SIRENS OF NEW YORK perform THIS friday at joan’s bar ;)

the flyer was an obnoxiously vibrant shade of red and plastered throughout the neighborhood, and it did a good job. one of queens’ best dive bars was packed with people waiting to see the band perform: stella yamada on guitar, mohini banjaree on bass, sally mcknight on vocals — and you on drums. 

it was nice and still a bit new, this relatively normal existence with relatively normal people.

you couldn’t cut off the demigod side of your life completely. there was still a war brewing, and you were in regular enough contact with camp. 

but, you’d been away for a few years, trying to live the life of a non-halfblood in their early 20s. you had an apartment, a cat and a nice enough roommate. you were in school and working as a bartender to pay for rent and tuition. you had friends who, for lack of a better term, were normal. people who worried about paying off student loans and finding their passion in life, whether it be law school or feminist prose or angry girl music of the indie-rock persuasion. people who spent their time in classrooms or tattoo parlors or their friends’ bathrooms at 2am while bleaching their hair after a bad breakup. 

sometimes though, usually late at night when you couldn’t sleep, you had to admit to yourself that you missed your old life. 

you missed home. you missed playing capture the flag and training in the arena and having breakfast in the dining pavilion. you missed your friends, the ones you’d grown up with. 

you missed —

no. you tried not to let your mind wander towards him, or the consequences of what he did. you both drew blood the afternoon he confessed his sins to you, but he was the one who twisted the knife. he was the reason you couldn’t stand your life as a half-blood anymore. 

you just tried to focus on the mortal, mundane things that now composed your everyday life, like the stage you would be performing on in 30 seconds. 

before every show, your bandmates went through different degrees of anxiety. you didn’t get stage fright like them. they called you fearless, but the reality was that you had just gone up against much worse. 

and yet, that night, you almost froze mid-set, just as you started a cover of the joan jett’s “you don’t know what you’ve got.”

ironically, luke had gotten you a cd of this album for your 15th birthday. 

i was caught so unaware, when you made other plans.

think of the devil, and he shall appear.

it couldn’t have been him there, though. last time you heard of him, luke was growing kronos' army somewhere on the west coast.  

you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken. 

i can’t stand to hear your name

you had to shake off the feeling of him watching you. 

it was just that — a bad feeling, right?

 you missed another beat, and mo turned around to give a concerned yet frustrated frown. joan had hinted that there might have been an agent in the audience, and you couldn’t afford to mess up. 

oh baby, you really blew it.

the song ended, and your blood ran cold.

it had to be a trick of the light, seeing luke in the crowd, but just the thought of being in the same space again made it impossible to be up on that stage, so exposed. 

as the band was getting ready for the next song, you slipped away, out the back door and into the alley for some fresh air. with shaky hands, you brought a cigarette between your lips and pulled out your lighter. it was a terrible habit, you knew.

those were always the ones hardest to quit and you needed a vice to keep you grounded. 

so there you found yourself, shivering in your black tank top, just cropped enough that the fishnets you wore underneath red leather pants were slightly visible. the bricks were cool against your back and you exhaled into the soft evening twilight when you realized it hadn’t been a trick of the light. 

“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”

you rolled your eyes, because of course luke would do that. you were on opposite sides of an impending war between gods and titans, a world-ending conflict that luke directly enabled, and he led with a light-hearted comment like you were still the best of friends. 

as if you hadn’t been on the receiving ends of each other’s blades ever since luke revealed himself to be a traitor. 

“give me one reason why i shouldn’t kill you right now. ”

“because i’m alone.”

“you could still be here to kill me,” you reasoned. “or at least try.”  

after everything, you wouldn’t put it past him. you known him to do a lot worse, all to people he claimed to, in a past life, care about. 

luke tried again. 

“because you always liked a fair fight. i came alone and unarmed.” 

you scoffed, dropped your half-finished cigarette to the ground, and snuffed it out with the toe of your chunky patent boot before walking over to stand in front of luke. he put his hands up in surrender as you approached him. 

“if you’re not here to fight, then why are you here?” you demanded, fingers brushing against the switchblade in your pocket. you always kept a celestial bronze weapon on you in case you came across any monsters in the city. you looked at the one in front of you, and wished you had brought a bigger knife.

“i just….i wanted — needed to see you.”

your eyes grazed luke carefully.

he looked rough. deep shadows under his eyes, hair disheveled and partially matted down, shirt wrinkled like he’d been on the run for days. his hands caked with blood and dirt, his face, too. a nasty bruise on his elbow, and what looked like another one disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. 

you bit down the urge to care. you had to remind yourself that luke was dangerous, cruel, and heartless. you couldn’t stand to look at him for one more second, at least not without biting his head off, or at the very least the cut on his lip. 

“no. you don’t get to just —”

the door slammed open, echoed throughout the alley. stella poked her head out, guitar still strapped to her shoulder. from inside, you could hear the crowd cheering.

“jesus christ, y/n! where have you been?” 

“sorry, stel. i needed a smoke break and then i ran into a — ” your voice caught on the word friend. “luke.”

his name left a poisonous taste in your mouth, and you swallowed its bitterness. 

she saw luke then, who gave her that charming smile of his you hadn’t seen in forever. he extended a hand towards her, but stella just scowled at him and turned back to you.

“are you coming to finish the show?” stella demanded. 

“i need to deal with this,” you told her. “i’m sor—”

stella huffed and slithered back inside before you could finish apologizing. 

 “great,” you laughed cynically. “now one of my best friends is pissed at me, and i might get kicked out of the band. my luck just gets worse every time you force yourself back into my life, castellan.”

you weren’t quite sure how to make of the way he looked at you — maybe apologetic, possibly desperately, definitely some sort of disguise. 

“i know….i fucked up, karma.”

you glared at the use of his old nickname for you, feeling a shudder run down your spine.

“yeah, you fucked up. and now everyone, the whole world, is suffering the consequences. me, annabeth, your mom —”

“please,” luke begged once more, voice shaking now. “if you ever loved me —”

“don’t.” you barked. “if you ever loved me, you’d accept that the next time we see each other, it’ll be fighting on a battlefield. until one of us is on the ground, bleeding out, or never again.”

luke stared at you. you glared back at him. 

“sorry i’m late, lukey. did i miss much?” a sickly sweet voice cut through the tension. 

you turned and saw a cheerleader. she looked relatively normal, but the mismatched legs — one bronze, another furry — along with the red eyes and fangs gave her away. 

“you said you were alone,” you pointed out, tilting your head towards the monster. “looks like you brought company.”

“i didn’t,” luke insisted. “kelli’s been hunting me down.”

kelli pouted. “i thought we were playing hide and seek. but it’s over now — i win. please don’t be mad, baby.”

baby. you could have laughed. 

“i guess you moved on, castellan.” you meant your words to come across as mocking, so you hoped luke couldn’t sense the resentment behind them.

kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed. 

“he sure did,” she cooed and moved closer to luke, running a long red fingernail down his chest. he pushed her away abruptly, and kelli pouted once more. “we miss you, luke. i miss you. please come back home with me.”

“that’s not my home.”

out of everything luke had said, those were the words that got through to you. you glanced at him once more — his hands curled into fists, jaw clenched, and eyes locked on yours, panicking and pleading at the same time. 

you had to give in to those pleading, panicked brown eyes. 

luke didn’t have any weapons on him. all you had was a tiny pocket knife and some combat skills you’d been maintaining through kickboxing classes with your roommate, but you were willing to put them to good use.

you stepped in front of luke. 

“listen — kelli, was it?” the empousa growled at you. “call me sentimental, but i can’t let you take him.”

kelli gave you a snarl, and you whipped out your switchblade. admittedly, it looked a little pathetic compared to her deadly fangs and sharp claws. 

“aw, cute!” she mocked, and then pushed you backwards. 

you expected to tumble into luke, but he had disappeared. seemed like you did make the wrong choice, to trust luke again. 

again — the worst, most sinister habits were the hardest ones to break. 

it briefly crossed your mind to chase him down after this for leading you into a trap. for now, you had a shapeshifting cheerleader to take care of. 

you managed to side-step kelli’s next attack, and sliced across her arm in the process. she shrieked. her hair bursted into flames, as if your day could get any worse. you tried to get another jab in, but kelli managed to be quicker this time. she punched you in the jaw, then kicked you, hard, with a hoofed foot, causing a dull crack to your ribcage upon impact. the kick sent you spinning towards the brick wall; it stopped you from falling, but knocked the air out of your lungs. you spat, your mouth thick with the taste of blood. your ears were ringing, and you couldn’t locate your knife. 

you were definitely out of practice. 

“kelli!” 

you both turned your attention towards luke, standing at the entrance of the alley with his sword in hand.

“luke!” kelli said like he was her long lost lover. she batted her eyelashes at him, the murderous grin she had given you melting away to something more enticing. “you came to help me finish her off.”

luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”

luke threw the sword towards you. despite a split second of surprise, you caught it; made a sharp diagonal cut. before kelli knew it, she was reduced to nothing but dust.

you dropped luke’s sword and fell to the pavement, adrenaline coursed through your veins from the first near-death experience you’d had in months. even with your body bruised and broken, fighting was a thrill like no other. 

luke came to kneel in front of you, sneakers crunching over the ashes of his ex-girlfriend.

“you said you were unarmed.” your voice sounded muffled. you spat out another mouthful of blood.

“half-bloods are walking monster bait. i’d be an idiot if i didn’t have any celestial bronze on me.” 

to emphasize his point, luke tucked your switchblade carefully back into your pocket. he moved his hand to the hem of your shirt. it was your instinct to keep him from lifting it up, and he stopped when he noticed your hesitation.

“i’m just trying to see how bad it is,” he informed. his lips then formed a bemused grin. “besides, i’ve already seen everything.”

“shut up,” but you smiled weakly even if it made your cheek hurt.

the skin where kelli had kicked you was turning an alarming shade of purple. luke tried to touch it, but you let out a sharp breath when pain emanated across your ribcage, and he recoiled. 

“okay, we need to get you —”

“i’m fine,” you groaned. you struggled to stand up, but you urged yourself to walk away. in your mind, the scales were already balanced. 

the moral, logical side of you was in danger of yielding to the wicked desire you always tried to suppress — to be with luke, even once more, just like old times. your quest for vengeance could only be stopped by your hunger for something more, and you needed distance from him before you gave in too much.

“i don’t need your help,” you insisted. “i protected you from kelli, and you gave me the sword that saved my life. we’re even.”

you started to limp away, but luke grabbed your side before you could get too far. you yelped at the contact.

“sorry,” he winced. “just — let me at least get you to a hospital.”

“what do i look like, a rockefeller?” you scoffed, and then grimaced when it felt like a giant was crushing you from the inside out. “i can’t afford that. i have some emergency nectar and ambrosia at my place, anyways.”

“let me at least get you back there, then. please.” he grabbed your hand. “i owe you.”

looking into those deep brown eyes, something in your stomach snapped. 

bad habits were always the hardest to break.

“fine,” you coughed. “but one wrong move, and i swear: i’ll go full vampire slayer and pierce a wooden stake through your heart.”

luke nodded once, lips curling into a smile. “seems fair.”

you groaned as luke wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you steady, his hold terribly familiar as he carried you back home. 

(vii. he loved you — and you weren’t sure if that was a fact or a weapon)

your apartment was only a few blocks away. luke must have gotten stronger, because he was able to carry you up the fire escape to avoid too much attention.

“i’m not sure if my roommate is home,” you whispered as luke set you down on the carpet by your bed. “so we should try and be quiet.”

you told him where you kept the supplies. he snuck away and emerged from the bathroom a minute later with clean hands and a first-aid  kit.

luke knelt down in front of you. 

“can i take your shirt off?” 

you nodded, trying to keep your eyes from fluttering closed. you were so bloodied up, more so than you initially let on, so you let luke do whatever he needed to do. he took off your shirt, assessed your injury and apologized when the pressure from his fingers made you wince. he wiped the blood off your lips and coaxed your mouth open to feed you some ambrosia, offer you a sip of nectar. 

there was no doubt about it: luke was taking care of you.

at first, you imagined your bones stitching themselves back together, and maybe some pieces of your heart, too. 

what were the odds that he was manipulating you, though? certainly not zero.

and then you noticed something when he reached over to place the canteen of nectar back with the kit. he was moving slowly, his breathing shallow and fresh blood seeping through his shirt.

“wait. what happened?”

“nothing,” he winced. luke was always good at hiding his pain.

“luke.”

“it was a few days ago. a hellhound bit me when i was trying to escape from….”

kronos’ army. he didn’t need to say it for either of you to remember. 

wordlessly, you switched your positions, led him to prop himself up on the bed frame while you crouched in front of him. 

“can i take this off?”

luke nodded. 

the first thing you noticed was that his muscles were more defined, yet his body was more beat-up than you'd ever seen it. there was a pretty nasty bruise on his shoulder. your eyes traveled down to the bitemark at his hip, and the haphazard stitching job luke must have done to himself. it looked like it could be infected, and with the activity from today, it was no wonder the wound reopened.

like he had done to you just seconds before, you took care of him.

“so…how are our friends?” he exhaled as you ran a cloth over his skin to clean off some of the blood.

our friends. it didn’t feel right that luke could still call them that. 

“i’m guessing you know what happened to chris….” luke grimaced, and you hoped he felt a little guilty at sending one of his best friends into a madness-inducing labyrinth. “clarisse and lena broke up, and neither of them will tell me why. beck is doing fine, always coming up with stuff in the forges. i guess that’s as good as anyone can be now, inventing new weapons for a war none of us wanted.”

you couldn’t help but add that last part. 

“and the kids?” luke asked as though you were divorce parents and he lost the custody battle. 

you looked up at the gray streak in luke’s own hair, remembering that he had manipulated annabeth and percy to hold the weight of the world, a burden that they couldn’t seem to shake.

it made you more than a little uneasy, luke showing any sense of caring for the people he seemed to leave behind and hurt so easily. you wished he hadn’t been so tender and attentive, like all the fighting and animosity had been a bad dream. 

luke just had to make everything so complicated.

“they’re fine, all things considered.”

you didn’t offer anything more, anything less. 

he was quiet for a moment.

“you seem to be doing alright, though?”

you ignored the question completely that time, focusing on getting the job done. you gave luke some ambrosia and nectar, watched as the infection magically disappeared. the wound didn’t completely heal, and there were many bruises that lingered. you were about to give luke some more when he shook his head. 

"you should save the rest for emergencies," he suggested, chin jutting towards your diminishing supplies. "in case something happens."

"is that a threat, castellan?" you asked, only half-joking. 

"no." luke reached out to touch your face, perhaps a move to reassure you, but then he redirected himself. "besides, i'll be fine. just need to cover it with some gauze." 

"you should take a shower before, then. i'll see what we have to eat." 

you helped him up, and sent luke into the bathroom. you changed into clean clothes before going to look for some food.

the ambrosia and nectar made your body feel more powerful than it had in days, even before getting kicked around by a demon cheerleader. no wonder the gods felt invincible, if that was their diet. meanwhile, all you had in your kitchen was a half-empty box of cinnamon poptarts and packets of instant coffee. 

you could hear your roommate singing from behind her closed door. you were quiet in toasting the breakfast pastries, and then slithered back into your room to look for something that would fit luke.

luke didn't hear you knock, so you just entered and closed the door behind you gently. on the bathroom counter, you set a pair of sweatpants that an ex had left behind, along with an oversized shirt of yours. before you could leave, there was a knock on the door. luke heard this one, and poked his head from behind the shower curtain. you gestured at him that you’d take care of it. he nodded, and closed the curtain again.

"yeah?"

"do you have any tampons in there?" your roommate's voice was muffled through the door.

"yeah," you replied. "i'll be out in a minute."

"do you mind if i just come in now? i'm bleeding out, out here." 

you were about to protest, but the doorknob started to turn, and you panicked. you slipped behind the shower curtain with luke, who looked at you wide-eyed. you placed your hand over his mouth before he could say anything. 

you were lucky earlier, that stella's mind was so preoccupied she didn't notice how beat-up luke was. you didn't want to take another chance. you didn't need your roommate asking questions. 

once the sounds of shuffling through cupboards stopped, and you heard a small thank you followed by the door closing, luke bit your palm.

"ow!" you hissed, pulling away from him.

"she's gone,” luke shrugged. “you don't need to muzzle me anymore.”

you rolled your eyes. “i put some clothes out for you, and a clean towel.”

luke caught your wrist before you could leave. 

“wait. my shoulder is killing me. do you mind…would you maybe help me….” 

his question trailed off, and you furrowed your brow when he pointed the shampoo bottle in your direction.

“you practically carried me down 3 blocks and up 4 flights of stairs, but you’re too hurt to wash your own hair?”

“i guess the pain just caught up with me.” his cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat. “sorry, i shouldn’t have —”

something pinched in your chest, hearing him stumble for forgiveness, even if it was so mundane. you caught yourself saying:

“i’ll do it.” 

before you could decide if it was a bad idea or not. you got rid of your shorts and tied your shirt up around your waist to prevent the clothes from getting too wet. luke blushed even more at your panties and exposed stomach, as if he wasn’t fully naked — which you were, of course, trying to ignore.

neither of you said anything as you focused on the task at hand, massaging shampoo and then conditioner into luke’s curls until they were rid of the grime trapped within. all you heard were luke’s soft sighs as your fingers scraped across his scalp and steady stream of water hitting the bathroom tiles. luke seemed so relaxed that his eyelids fluttered closed, and he almost toppled over. with your own sudsy hands, you brought his hands to sit at your waist, steadying him. 

the space was a little foggy, slightly too warm. you and luke had been intimate before, but never like this. it was almost enough to make you forget.

once all the soap was washed away, you brushed your fingers over the scar on his face, down to the sword tattooed along his collarbone, before you realized what you were doing.

“sorry,” you whispered, pulling your hand away.

“it’s okay,” he hummed, and he moved his hand up to brush against the very same tattoo you had on your sternum, touch burning through a layer of cotton.

you wanted his hands elsewhere — around your neck, between your legs.

the water was running cold by then, and it jolted you back to reality.

you had to keep your desires in check. luke was manipulative and cruel and ruthless — you were enemies, not friends or lovers. you weren’t supposed to want him carnally.

you reached behind him to turn the shower off without another word, and left the bathroom so he could get dressed. 

neither of you were armed, but the situation was dangerous. you were barely healing from the claw marks luke left on your life and yet…. 

part of you wanted him to dig his fingers back into those wounds — to feel him again, even if it bled you dry in the end. 

luke’s sword, backbiter, leaned against your windowsill, a menacing reminder of who he had aligned himself with. luke was essentially kronos’ right hand man. he was your enemy.

what were you doing, bringing him into your home, taking care of him and letting him do the same to you?

leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?

now that you thought of it, if his guard was down, you could probably grab your own knife and just —

you heard luke clear his throat and you turned to see him standing in your doorway, shirtless and sweatpants hanging low. it was embarrassing how much you wanted to lap up the drop of water traveling down his chest.

luke must have noticed, so cleared his throat again. your body felt warm all over when you met his gaze, and he gave you an annoyingly confident smirk.

“so, here’s the thing. i’m pretty sure you’re either thinking about wanting to kill me, or wanting to fuck me.” 

you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, but couldn’t help but play along. 

“sounds like you’ve accepted your fate either way.”

“well, i do have a preference,” he quipped. “i just don’t particularly care as long as it's in your hands.”

it didn’t get past you that luke was checking you out, too, eye trailing over the exposed skin of your legs and lingering on where the t-shirt hugged your chest. 

how bad would it be to, for one night, indulge? no concern about what was right or wrong, about titans or gods; no worries about what a prophecy foretold or which side of a war you’re on. 

just you and luke: giving into your own twisted desires, and dealing with the consequences later.

another droplet trickled down luke’s torso. it disappeared underneath the band of his sweatpants, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

you strode over to him, about to crash your lips into his when —

luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“no kissing,” he warned. 

“what’s the matter?” you smirked. “i thought you liked it when i bite. worried that you’ll turn away from the dark side if i do?”

luke swallowed thickly.

you were taunting him, relishing in how his breath caught in his throat and gaze seemed fixed on your lips.

it was cute, how luke tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but couldn’t hide the slight tremble in his voice. 

“no kissing. that’s my only condition.”

“okay.” you took off your shirt, positioned yourself on the bed to punctuate your point. “as long as you’re fine sleeping with the enemy, castellan.”

luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate. 

he caged you in with his arms, settling his hips between your legs. his lips traveled down your tattooed sternum, nipping and sucking and re-bruising your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties. luke pulled it up with his teeth, the elastic snapping back when he let go. you whined his name and he looked up at you with dark eyes. 

“can i?” his breath fanned over your navel, his nails digging into your hips as he waited for your answer.  

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel luke smirk against your inner thigh before sinking his teeth into it. you whimpered, and luke salved his tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. he positioned your legs over his shoulder for better access to where you needed him most.

luke manipulated his tongue and fingers in all the ways he knew ruined you. in return, you gripped his black curls, tightly, and uttered praise in all the ways you knew ruined him. 

“just like that, pretty boy,” you encouraged, practically melting into the mattress. it felt so good — dangerously good — to be devoured by luke. “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

luke’s moan vibrated throughout your body and he became harsher, bringing you over the edge. he left a few more bites on your body on his way up to meet you and when he did, luke’s lips and chin were still shining with your release.

you leaned forward slightly to lick it up. you ghosted your mouth over his, and luke groaned when you pulled away.

“no kissing,” you mocked and ran your thumb over his tattooed collarbone. 

luke tightened his grip on your hips, surely leaving bruises for later. his eyes feral, his curls a terrible mess, when he grumbled:

“you’re such a —”

you twisted your calf around luke’s leg and you flipped your positions before he could finish his sentence. he grunted as his back hit the mattress. 

“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll still take care of you,” you drawled, starting to trail your tongue down luke’s body, occasionally incorporating your teeth or sucking brutally, imprinting a constellation of bites and bruises. his skin smelled like your pomegranate mango body wash, and it was more than a little intoxicating.

you weren’t soft or gentle, because you knew how luke liked you — rough, raw, a little ruthless. luke once told you that the wounds you left on his body weren’t the type that left him bitter; they were the type of wounds he wished would never heal.   

in a moment of weakness, you left a kiss — just one — on the semi-healed wound on his hip. luke sighed at the gesture and reached a hand down to gently brush his fingers against your cheek. 

“i missed you so much, karma,” luke almost sobbed. 

slightly shaken out of your lust, you weren’t sure whether to smirk at the hold you had on him, or sob at the reality that you missed him too. 

sensing your hesitation, luke removed his hand and told you to continue.  

you made quick work of luke’s sweatpants. luke, already hard and throbbing, didn’t last long with your lips wrapped around him. you swallowed him whole, and then some. 

“always such a good girl for me,” luke praised when you were face to face with him once more. his thumb swiped over your wet lips to gather what you missed. you granted him access to push into your mouth, and luke groaned when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his thumb clean. your teeth scraped the skin on his way out. 

what followed was a brief squabble over who should be on top. you won out. 

there you were, luke sitting up against the headboard, you on his lap with his length nestled in your cunt. you scraped your nails down luke’s chest, and then curled your hands around the base of his neck. he gripped either side of your waist, thumbs pressing circles into your skin encouragingly. luke looked up at you in awe, desperate sighs leaving his mouth as you rutted your hips against his. it felt sinful and wonderful, feeling luke buried deep inside you again, stretching you deliciously. the two of you exchanging animalistic grunts as you used the other's body, chased your high.

when you rolled your hips into his at just the right angle, luke’s moans turned into whines. 

“fuck it. please — kiss me.”

you stilled your hips, and luke whined some more. “are you sure?” you asked, breathing heavily.

luke nodded and gently moved you to lay on your back with him hovering over you. he leaned close, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. 

“please,” luke pleaded once more.

his brown eyes looked down at you with such hunger and passion, something deep within you ached. 

you kissed each other harshly, then. you still tasted him on your tongue and yourself on his. his sharp nose cut into your cheek, mouth attacking yours and vice versa. your nails pierced the skin of his shoulder as he resumed thrusting into you at a vicious pace. luke kept gnawing on your bottom lip until he made you bleed. you groaned, and he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to savor your coppery taste.

yes, luke could also be rough and raw and a little ruthless — which you always loved. but you knew, regardless, you were safe with him in that moment. all he wanted was for you to feel good.

you yanked his curls to force luke to look at you. he whimpered at having to detach himself from your lips.

“i missed you too, tiger,” you finally admitted, calling him that old affectionate nickname you promised yourself you would never use again.  “i missed you so fucking much.” 

luke gave you that troublesome smile of his. you connected your lips once more. you wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer, and luke wrapped an arm around your back to do the same. 

it wasn’t long until you both reached your peak, collapsing back onto the soft mattress, chests heaving. you each lied down on your side, facing each other. you admired luke’s mess of curls, his swollen-kiss-bitten lips, the rose-petal bruises you had left.

you wished the post-sex haze lasted longer, but then luke had to disturb it by saying:

“what you said earlier — i never think of you as my enemy, you know.”

you sighed and covered your face with your hand. “luke —”

“never,” luke insisted. he inched closer, took your hand in his and held it to his chest. 

you were overwhelmed by his heartbeat, strong and fast, so you pulled yourself away.

“we’re fighting on different sides,” you pointed out.

you could’ve said more, but all the things that have been said and done already hung heavy in the air, reoccupying the space between you and bursting your brief moment of peace.

“but we’ve always been fighting for the same thing.”

maybe that was true.

in theory, you weren’t against overthrowing the gods. but you couldn't reconcile with everything luke had done, what he was willing to do. you couldn't let your friends and thousands of innocent people die in the name of divine beings who valued power and control over all else. you couldn't hurt or betray people you loved for the sake of revenge, regardless of who your mother is. you couldn't turn that love against them, the way luke had, in search of justice. 

deep down, you knew it wasn’t right to have him there in bed with you. if it was so wicked, sinful, treacherous — then why did you want him to stay?

“i’m not sure they have a word for what we are,” you concede, returning to the conversation moments ago. 

"i guess not."

you let luke bring you into his arms that time. you rested your head against his chest. his heartbeat still steady, but a little slower. you idly traced your fingers across the marks you left on him, and you avoided the ones you didn't.

"how's your shoulder?" 

"it's okay," luke sighed. he lifted your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "whatever we are: i love you." 

those weren’t the words that were meant to make you sick, but your stomach churned — with nausea or desire, you weren’t sure.

you moved to straddle his hips. your eyes glanced over a scar you didn't register until now. the cut you had sliced across his cheek that afternoon he tried to kill percy, and then ran away from camp. you had a similar one that he had given you during that same struggle. 

matching tattoos, matching scars. there really was no word for what you and luke were to each other. 

"i love you too.”

at some point throughout the night, with luke’s strong arms wrapped around you and your legs intertwined beneath tangled sheets, it occurred to you that luke must have tracked you down for a particular reason.

maybe he was here to convince you to join kronos' army, to help him overthrow the gods and burn the world as you knew it; maybe he was here to break your heart all over again, just for the sick thrill of it; maybe he did just want to have one more night together, enemies or otherwise. maybe, maybe, maybe.

luke’s soft snores lulled you to sleep, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the scales of justice.

you'd figure it out in the morning. then you'd decide whether or not he deserved a blade to the heart.

[bunnylovesani]

Kiss Me Through The Phone

Summary: You call your jerk of a stepbrother to remind him to pick up some milk on the way home but the conversation takes a sinful turn.

Content warnings: Stepcest, dubcon, masturbation, fingering, squirting

WC: 2.9k

“What do you want?” Sam’s short-tempered voice rings out of your phone’s speakers as he picks up your call.

“Just calling to say mom wants you to pick up a carton of milk on the way home.” You exhale. Your mother had been married to his dad for several months now but talking to Sam still made you frustratingly nervous. 

“Fine. Is that all?” He snaps back. 

“Yeah. When are you going to be back by the way?” You innocently chirp, worried that he’d been gone for so long. 

“Why do you care?” He scoffs and you shrink down onto your bed. He had a special gift for making you feel invisibly small. 

“Jus’ wondering Sam.” You shrug. “You’re barely ever home. Gets lonely sometimes.” 

“Princess wants a playdate, is that it? I’ve got better things to do than rot away in that hole of a house.” The mean tone in his voice pinches at your heartstrings and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You quickly wipe them away and regulate your breathing, not daring to let him hear your sniffles- you’d never hear the end of it. 

“Okay. I’ll stop bothering you then.” You whisper disappointedly, heart sinking even more when you’re met with silence. 

“I’m only down the road at a friend’s house. I’ll be back later tonight.” He sighs, as though revealing the simple information was a burden to him. 

“You will?” You almost begin to float at the thought of him spending the night for once. 

“Yes. You can bother me then.” He sneers. 

“Okay!” You have to cover your mouth with your hand before the “can’t wait!” slips out of you. You anticipate that he’ll hang up but the seconds on your screen continue ticking on. 

“What have you been doing today?” He asks with a faint curiosity and you’re taken aback by his unusual question. 

“Oh! Um, I went shopping earlier.” You reprimand yourself for the stupid response. No wonder he thought you were nothing but an airhead- why couldn’t you have said you were reading classic literature or listening to metal?

“My old man give you a new credit card?” He questions and you blush with embarrassment. Your new stepfather was endlessly generous and as much as you loved being spoiled, you were concerned with the impression it left on Sam. “It’s alright. He loves you like you’re his own. Angel of the family. Probably glad he’s finally got a kid that isn’t a total mess now.” He adds before you can interject.

“Don’t say that, Sam. You’re not a mess.” You remark earnestly. You weren’t about to admit it but you thought the absolute world of him. 

“Whatever. What’d you buy?” He brushes the subject off and you hear him exhale- he must be smoking again. 

“Oh, I-uh. Well, I…” You stutter, remembering exactly what it is you’d bought earlier. 

“Spit it out.” He retorts impatiently and you eye up the pink bag of lingerie sitting by the edge of your bed. “What? You buy something secret?”

“I mean, kinda. Not really. It’s stupid.” You shake your head in panic. “I bought some new bras and panties.” 

Once you blurt out the delicate information, there’s an uncomfortably long pause.

“Cute. Bet you’ll look real pretty in it.” He chuckles lightly as he exhales again and a hot blush creeps over your whole face. 

“Maybe. I haven’t tried it on yet.” You murmur, unsure how to process Sam complimenting you. 

“What are you waiting for?” The sly smirk plastered on his face trickles into his words and you can picture it, clear as day. 

“I-I don’t know” You stumble, putting the phone down and fishing your favourite selection out of the bag- a striped pink set complete with chiffon bows. Without a second thought, you strip down to nothing and slide on your new purchase before twirling to admire yourself in front of the mirror. 

“How’s it looking?” Sam’s voice rings out on speakerphone.

“It’s pretty. Very flattering.” You said sweetly. 

“Show me.” 

His bold words stopped you in your tracks and you broke you out into a flurry of goosebumps. 

“W-what?” You hesitated, wondering if you’d misunderstood something.

“You heard me. Show me.” He stated confidently. 

Reluctantly, you approached your buzzing phone and peered at the screen to see an incoming FaceTime call from Sam. Against your better judgment, you accepted the request and fought the grin that threatened to envelop your face once your screen filled with his handsome, moody face. 

“Hey there, princess.” He drawled smoothly, a joint hanging between his fingers. 

“Hi.” You cooed, shyness consuming you. The sight of the mischievous glint in his blue eyes paired with the messy, dark hair that trailed down his forehead had you struggling to put a sentence together. 

“Put the phone down on your table and give me a spin then.” He ordered more than asked. 

Without a second word, you gently placed the phone on your vanity table and propped it up by the mirror before standing back with the same countenance as a skittish deer.

“Wow. Where’s that body been hiding?” He sniggers and you resist the urge to cover your heated face with your hands. 

“Now let’s see the back.” He gestures for you to turn around and you follow his command, perching your ass in the air a little as you show him. 

“Oh fuck yeah.” He expresses with a low, breathy tone. “Sit down for me.” 

Somewhat confused, you situate yourself on the chair by your desk. 

“Now lean back. Just like that, sweetheart.” 

You follow his words without question, spurred on by the trust you had for him. 

“Now spread your legs.” He said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world before taking a final drag of his joint and putting it out. When he sees you’re frozen in shock, he simply raises an eyebrow and cocks his head, as if to say “what?”

Anxiety racks your body- as well as deep, burning desire and a desperate urge to please him so you part your legs slowly, resting your heels on either edge of the chair. 

“That’s it, baby. You’re so well behaved, aren’t you?” His snarky voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up but you’d do anything to hear him call you ‘baby’ again. “Why don’t you slide those off?” His intentions finally come into clear focus- all doubts fading away when you hear the faint clinking of his belt. Too far gone to turn back now.

You put your thighs together, feet swinging gracefully in the air as you gradually pull your panties off. You hear rustling on the other line as Sam’s eyes remain painstakingly fixated on you and the glistening wetness you’ve revealed to him. Dragging the pink fabric over your knees, you flick them off and spread your legs once again. 

“L-like this?” You mumble anxiously, feeling chillingly exposed. 

“Yeah, baby. Just like that.” He sighs as you hear the snap of his boxers. 

“What are you doing, Sam?” You ask apprehensively, a warmth coming over you at the sound of his endearing words. 

“You wanna see?” A darkness overcomes his eyes, already smudged with 2-day old eyeliner. 

“Mhm.” You nod and he lowers the camera a couple of inches- just enough for his happy trail and lower hips to come into view. 

“Are you sure?” He teases and you nod again without a second thought. 

“Alright.” 

Without further delay, his large cock springs up onto your screen- swollen veins snaking around his thick base and the tip a pretty blushed pink. You exhale a shaky breath at the sight- you’d never seen one before and you weren’t expecting that your stepbrother’s would be the first. His large hand grabs the shaft, stroking it with slow but firm pumps. 

“I wanna see you doing the same now, princess.” He rasps, small groans escaping his parted lips between sinful words. 

“Me?” You’re taken aback by his perverted request. 

“Who else has got her legs spread? Yes, you. Put those pretty fingers to good use and touch yourself. Can you do that for me, baby?” He asks sternly and you have to look away from the camera when you notice how hungrily he’s staring at you. 

“I don’t know, Sam…” Your mind clouds with doubt. “Isn’t this really fucked up?” 

“The only thing that’d be fucked up is you backing out now.” He rebuked with the same aggression in his voice you’re used to hearing. “If you don’t  do it now, I’ll do it myself when I get home.” 

The thought of Sam’s fingers prodding somewhere so intimate both turned you on and freaked you out beyond measure. The dangerous stare in his glazed-over eyes served as a warning and you knew he wasn’t bluffing. 

With bated breath, you snaked one hand between your legs and traced it down your puffy folds.

“Good girl. I knew you’d do the right thing.” He sighs contentedly and resumes stroking his cock, the tip now a deeper pink and glassy with precum. “Now squeeze your tits with your other hand.” 

You knew better than to argue back so you followed his orders, raising your free hand to knead your left breast. 

“Pinch your nipple.” The expression on his handsome face contained nothing but dark, burning lust. 

“Sammm…” You whined, consumed with embarrassment.

“Don’t make me come down there.” He scowled threateningly. 

Anxiety racked your body but you could feel the wetness pooling in your cunt as you lightly pulled at your nipple. 

“I wanna see you fucking yourself.” He announced ominously. “Come on, baby, use those fingers.” 

“But Sam, I-I don’t do that. I don’t like it.” You mutter- you’d never tried before. 

“Do it for me.” He insisted and you knew you couldn’t refuse.

Your middle finger outlined your opening- it was certainly wet enough to slide in easily, but you still felt scared. Wanting to complain and give up, you looked up at the phone still perched on your desk and saw him then- eyes intently fixed on you and stroking himself desperately, shirt lifted up just enough to reveal his toned abdomen. He looked a mess. And all for you? 

Scrunching up your face, you slowly dipped a finger inside, wincing at the unfamiliar feeling and reprimanding yourself for not being strong enough to say no. 

“Oh, you’re such a baby.” Sam shook his head. “And you’re not doing it right.” 

“I don’t know what you want!” You moan frustratedly, pulling your hand away in defeat. 

“I know. I’ll show you.” He affirms lowly. 

“What?” You reach out and grab your phone.

“Stay right there.” He orders before hanging up, leaving you staring at the blank screen of your phone in confusion and horror. He wasn’t going to come here, was he?

You were too obedient to do anything but stay in place like he’d instructed but you were still tormented with anxious anticipation. It was one thing to mess around on the phone but something entirely different to take it to the next level. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to cross that line. 

You heard the heavy thud of footsteps traipsing up the stairs and your whole body froze. The door swung open and a smirking Sam entered the room with a cocky stride. 

“You haven’t moved.” He notes, closing the door behind him and approaching you like a predator closing in on its prey. 

“You told me not to.” You counter. 

“That’s right.” He mutters to himself as he lies back against your headboard. “Come here, sweetie.” He beckons you over and you timidly go over to him, your back pressed against his open chest. 

Sam rests his chin on your shoulder and inhales the scent of you, nuzzling up to the crook of your neck. 

“Lie back for me.” You rest your bare self against him completely, slotting in between his legs. “Just like that. Now I’m going to show you how it’s done.” 

“But- but you said if I did it myself then you wouldn’t.” You whined.

“I know doll but you didn’t do it right, did you?” He traced his hand down your slit and wasted no time before gathering the slick with two fingers and plunging them inside you. 

“Sam!” You mewl at the unexpected intrusion. 

“Shut up.” He curls his fingers and your eyes roll to the back of your head. You look down at the silver rings glimmering on his fingers, now sheathed inside you. 

“You’re so soft and squishy.” He laughs mockingly, plunging his slender fingers in and out roughly. “And squelchy too. You hear that?” He speeds up for a moment to emphasise the lewd sounds of your wet pussy, arousal dripping down his hand already. 

“You’re gonna let me play with you.” He fucks his fingers in and out of you with brutal precision. “Because that’s what big brothers do- and good little sisters listen.” 

“But Sammy, it’s wrong.” You moan and he clamps your mouth shut with a big open hand before you can voice any more protests.

“You make the mistake of thinking I care what you want.” He palms your breast and takes your nipple between his fingers, squeezing at it hard. “You’re my little toy. A thing to play with. You understand?” You nod as much as you’re able to considering the state of delirium you had fallen into. 

“Stop squirming and take it.” He slaps your breast harshly before sticking his thumb in your mouth; you suckle at it messily, drool dripping on your chin and down your cleavage. 

“Too-too much Sam.” You wail, thighs shaking and closing in around his veiny arm. 

“I don’t think so.” He yanks his fingers out so that he can force your legs open with both hands, pulling them apart as far as they could go before dipping his creamy fingers back in. 

“Do you know what squirting is, baby?” He asks you calmly, deriving a sick pleasure out of compelling you to speak when you were clearly falling apart. 

“Y-yes.” You choke out breathily. 

“How?” He raises an eyebrow and snakes a hand around your neck. “Has my little sis been a slut?”

“No, no, I promise.” You shake your head desperately. 

“How then? Been watching things you shouldn’t have?” He cocks his head around to face you and you shyly nod in response. “Ah, I thought so. That’s very naughty of you, sweetheart.” He chastises you, admiring how he’d turned you into a panting, dishevelled mess in no time at all. 

His fingertips brushed against an undiscovered spongy spot inside you and your toes curled at the blazing sensation. You entered a trance and soon after you heard a wet gushing that spilled out and drenched your thighs and sheets. 

“Such a good girl.” He kissed the side of your face sloppily. “Knew you could do it.” 

You peered down and saw that his broad, veined forearm was dripping- creamy wetness dribbling from his fingertips. 

“I-I did that?” You panted, confused. 

“Sure did, baby. All you.” He started rubbing circles into your clit and you threw your head back onto his shoulder. 

“Sam, what are you doing?” You whined, head spinning with the mind-numbingly good way he was playing with you. 

“I’m not done with my little toy.” He massages your swollen pussy, callous fingertips stroking against the delicate nub with dizzying speed. “Cum on my fingers, baby, cum all over them.” 

You came undone, whimpering and crying out so loud the walls vibrated. Sam chuckled at the sight, looking down at your fucked out expression with cocky pride. 

“We’re home!” Your mother’s voice rang out as the front door shut with a resounding slam and you scrambled to get dressed. Just as she climbed upstairs to reach your room, you’d gotten your dress back on- albeit backwards. 

“Oh, hey Sam.” She peered in, noticing him sitting on the chair by your desk and he waved at her with a thin smile. “Did you get the milk like I asked?” 

“Must’ve slipped my mind.” He shrugged and she rolled her eyes. 

“Everything slips your mind, sometimes I wonder if there even is a mind to speak of.” 

“Mom!” You screwed your face up at her, hating how she and Sam bickered. 

“What? He forgets everything.” She waves her hand in the air dismissively, about to head out the door before your dress caught her eye. “Is that a new way of wearing it that I don’t know about?” You look down as she points at the inside-out fabric. 

“Yeah, mom. Contrast stitching is all the rage.” You nod persuasively. 

“I’m getting old.” She sighs. “But it’s nice to see you two hanging out.” 

“Oh we’re a regular Bonnie and Clyde.” Sam smirks and you laugh nervously, hoping she wouldn’t read too much into the strange comparison. 

As soon as she’s gone, Sam shoots you a dark stare, lust infusing his eyes once again. 

“You’re lucky they got back home when they did. I would’ve ruined you.” He remarks casually and you shuffle in your seat uncomfortably, burning under his intense gaze. 

“You already did.” You gulp at his thinly veiled threat.

“Oh baby, you have no idea.” 

Taglist:

@w0rsh1psells @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall @bby-imasociopath @emmalandry @slut4starwarssmut @ghostlycrystobalove @iamjustaholeforyousir @billy-stu-wh0re3 @mousie101-blog @sweetcheesecakesblog

୨୧ If you want to be removed from the Taglist or only want to be tagged for certain fics, please let me know ! ୨୧

[saintobio]

sy13 | sneak peek. a long one, kinda :)))

You could see the torment in his eyes as he looked at Sachiro, the helplessness of a father who could do nothing but watch. You just couldn’t bear the silence any longer, so you finally spoke. “Satoru… just go home.”

He froze at the sound of your voice, as if caught off guard, but quickly shook his head and wrapped your belly under a warm blanket. “Did I wake you up?”

“I can look after Sachi by myself,” you urged, disregarding his question. “You need to rest.”

But again, he refused. “No.”

“But—”

You opened your mouth to speak again, to reason with him, but before you could, Satoru’s voice cut through the air, breaking in a way you had never heard before. “Y/N, let me be a father to my kids… Please.” His voice cracked, the raw emotion spilling out as he looked at the ceiling with somber, tearful eyes. It was the heartbreak in his voice that made you realize that you were the only family Satoru had left. And it was the tremor in his hands that made you see through the trauma he had developed after he was led to believe for three years that his son had never existed. In a way, you felt responsible for the pain you had caused him, too. “Just please let me love you and our babies. Don’t take them away from me.”

For a moment, silence became your friend. Yet, the quiet that enveloped the room was more of a tender moment suspended in time as you let Satoru embrace you in his arms. You both remained there, connected by the warmth of his hand over yours, and the gentle rise and fall of his breath. He caressed your belly as if you were going to take his baby away—that if he closed his eyes, even for a second, he would wake up to see his unborn child gone. 

But then, a soft knock on the door shattered the stillness. Satoru’s grip on your hand loosened as the nurse poked her head into the room with an apologetic expression on display.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mr. and Mrs. Gojou,” she began, her voice quiet and gentle, “but you have a visitor.” Satoru’s brows furrowed slightly, but before he could ask, the nurse continued, “Her name is Akemi.”

At the mention of her name, he immediately sat up, his body tense as he instinctively prepared to stand. You felt the shift in his demeanor, the way his hand slipped from yours as he moved to the edge of the bed. You stayed still for a minute, processing the sudden change, and your heart sinking at the thought of yet another intrusion by her.

You took a deep breath as you began to pull away, already bracing yourself for what was to come, and for the inevitable exit he would make. Like always. Choosing another woman over you. Choosing another woman over his own child. Of course, that’s what he’s about to do, right? You started to gather the strength to let him go, to retreat back into your thoughts, until the nurse spoke again.

“Actually,” she said, her eyes flicking between you both, “Miss Akemi wants to see you, Miss Y/N… not Mr. Gojou.”

[bigfatbimbo]

hi! I constantly check your blog for more updates and love the more powerful reader x bill stories you've done!

have you considered how interesting the handyman bill au could be?

bc imagine how humiliating it is for bill to not only be defeated by some lowly humans, but to be stripped of his power and forced to work for them as a handyman???

imagine the reader is just a human and is a worker or friend of the pines and comes to the mystery shack often and messes with Bill bc they love how easy it is to piss him off

imagine one day he acts really pissy back and says something that actually makes the reader mad (maybe about hurting their family or smth

imagine they slap him and uh oh did he like that? I think he liked that

imagine they pull him aside and make fun of how pathetic he is now, how he's getting horny from a human slapping him

imagine they edge him till he begs, then eat his pussy out till his legs are shaking too much to hold himself up

imagine him getting back to work, unable to look ford/Stan in the eyes while making up an excuse for why he's being so clumsy and can't seem to walk straight

🫣

…

HOLY SHIT??????

I did not consider this, but now I am.

Because he would be at his absolute lowest at this point, and adding the cherry on top, he has the reader messes with him every day. He’d be so easy to piss off it’s insane, but it’s not like he could do anything about it.

And then the escalation? He says something over the line in response to the readers taunting, i’m guessing something along the lines of what he “would do to everyone here if he could,” and in mild detail. And when the reader slaps him, he’s into it? Like visibly, his face flushed red and he doesn’t look up at you, legs kinda turning into face each other.

Thank god it’s only you two there, because the make out scene would be absolutely insane on the way to the back room. WHOOO, and what you said after that?

”imagine they edge him till he begs, then eat his pussy out till his legs are shaking too much to hold himself up”

Have I considered boypussy!Bill Cipher? No. Do I love it? Uhm, YES!! And imagine being so cruel to him this entire process, nitpicking his every little character trait, and breaking him down. Obviously, contrasting with the way you were sinking to your knees, and unbuttoning his pants. Going on to devour his pussy, and tease his clit into oblivion, definitely leaving bruises on his thighs from how hard your holding him in place.

Yeah so… I like this idea. I think I like it a lot.

[cameronsprincess]

Rafe x Reader who does like OF!? BUT rafe doesn’t know she does it. Like I can so see topper and rafe hanging out and she goes live bc she’s finaly able to be alone and top like being a subscriber to her and telling rafe about her and stuff yk? U can decide what happens from there but😭

warnings: smut! 18+ OF, aggressive!rafe, bimbo!reader, face fucking (i love this shit if u can’t tell), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, sex on a livestream, reader calls rafe daddy once, degrading. i think that’s all?

note: this got kinda long and i feel like i’ve been working on it for months (only a lil over a month lmao) but enjoy! remember: likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

The sound of your soft moans coming from Topper’s phone had caught Rafe’s attention. He quickly makes his way toward his best friend, his mind going a thousand miles an hour at what Topper could have came across. His eyes go wide when he sees your body, dressed in the red lace lingerie set he’d bought you last week displayed on the screen.

“Yo, what the fuck are you on? That’s Y/N” Rafe snaps, his eyes narrowed into slits as he stares at his best friend, a wide smile spread across his lips.

Topper’s smile fades, a look of fear taking over his face when he notices the anger emitting from his best friend.

“Wh-What?! This is… This is Y/N?” Topper says lowly, eyes darting between his phone screen and Rafe.

Rafe shakes his head slowly, letting out a deep exhale before grabbing the phone from Topper’s hand. He clicks on your profile, seeing an array of pictures and videos. Your face was never shown, but Rafe knew your body, he knew about the birth mark you had on your inner thigh, he knew this was you.

“You- You’re fucking subscribed to my girlfriend? What the fuck Top!”

“Dude I swear, I didn’t know it was Y/N..” Topper replies, voice shaky as his eyes stay on his angry best friend.

Rafe exits the screen, tossing Topper’s phone onto the table before quickly making his way toward the front door, completely ignoring the apologies his best friend was shouting at him.

Rafe was furious. How could you not tell him you were on OnlyFans? Why were you on OnlyFans? He had more money than he knew what to do with, he could support you, so why were you selling your body online? Letting people see his girl?!

He was in his truck before he could even think a plan through, his mind only set on getting to your house and confronting the situation head on.

-

You’re mid livestream when you hear your front door open followed by a loud slam that made your heart sink into your stomach.

Rafe pushes your bedroom door open, his jaw tense and fists balled at his sides, he was breathing heavily, and you could sense from the tension in the air that he’d found out.

“Hey baby, what’re you-” You begin but Rafe stops you when he tightly wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing so hard your vision blurred, tears filling your eyes as he continued to cut off your oxygen.

“Why the fuck are you on OnlyFans? Hmm? Am I not enough for you? Need to be a fucking whore online for the world? You like that type of attention?”

You tried to speak but all that came out were strangled gasps, your hand clawing at his as you tried to rip his hand from your throat.

“I’m gonna fuck you for this livestream, let all these fucking people know who you fucking belong to, got it?”

You trail your eyes up to his, nodding your head as best you could.

Rafe releases the grip on your throat, pushing you back in the process. You begin gasping for air as tears streamed harshly down your face. You glance down at your computer, noticing the hundreds of comments flooding in before glancing back up at Rafe who had stripped himself down to nothing.

You bite down at your bottom lip, sitting yourself onto your knees. Rafe takes a long stride toward you, his hard cock grasped firmly in his hands as he slowly stroked himself.

“Set that up somewhere else, gotta let ‘em see how good I fuck your throat”

You quickly jump from your bed, setting your computer up on your dresser, giving a perfect view of your bed and rushing back to Rafe. You spit into your palm, quickly pushing his hand off himself and replacing it with your own.

Rafe groans, his head thrown back in pleasure as you slowly worked him. “Fuck, can’t wait to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock”

You place a soft kiss onto his tip before pushing it into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his swollen head, the taste of his precum hitting your tongue and pulling a low moan from you.

Rafe gathers your hair into his hand, pulling at it harshly before he shoves your head down. You gag around him when his head hits the back of your throat. He begins to thrust himself in and out of your mouth, hair tightly grasped in his hand, “Fuck, so fucking good. Let ‘em see how well you take my cock baby”

He continues thrusting himself into your mouth, tears flowing quickly down your face with each push and pull. You place both hands on his thighs, trying to steady yourself but Rafe uses his free hand to slap your hands away.

You feel his thrusts growing sloppy, hips stuttering, before he pulls you off of him.

You whine, “Rafe, wanna taste you. Please”

Rafe tsks, shaking his head as his darkened over eyes find yours, “Don’t think so baby, when I cum, it’s gonna be in that pretty pussy”

He situates himself on your bed, snapping his fingers and signaling for you to sit yourself on his lap with your back to him. You glance up to look into your webcam, watching as the many comments continue to fill the screen.

Rafe runs a large hand up your sides, large palms finding your bra covered chest and cupping at your tits harshly. You throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as he continues to massage at your flesh, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers.

He runs one hand back down your side, gripping at your thigh and harshly spreading your legs. His fingers tug at the waistband of your lacy panties, ripping them off your body and tossing the torn fabric to your bedroom floor.

His eyes flicker up to the screen of your laptop, a smirk taking over his face when he sees your glistening cunt on display, his long fingers toying at your clit and wet folds.

“Such a pretty pussy, and it’s all mine”

You whimper out a weak response, Rafe’s lips attacking your neck with kisses, teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and leaving deep purple bruises in their wake.

You let out a loud gasp when you feel two fingers plunged inside your aching core, his harsh upward thrusts making your hips jerk forward. He quickly grabs at your hip with his free hand, forcing you back down onto his lap as he continues to harshly push his fingers inside of you.

He places a hot, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder before sinking his teeth into the skin. He curves his fingers up, finding that spot inside you that has your brain short circuiting, toes curling as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut. Getting off on me using you on camera for hundreds of people watching”

A low groan falls from your lips, “Rafe, fuck feels so fucking good” You sob out, tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill with each harsh thrust of his fingers.

Rafe tuts, slowing his fingers down to a painfully slow pace, “I dunno. I don’t think I should let you cum. I mean, you were out here selling your body, my body, when I can give you whatever you want”

You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, orgasm fluttering, ready to rush from you at any moment, “Rafe, please! ‘M so sorry! Let me cum, please!”

Rafe chuckles darkly, “Fucking beg for it then. Beg me to let you cum”

You choke out a sob, tears flowing down your cheeks. “Please! Please let me cum daddy! Promise i’ll be a good girl, won’t ever do anything bad again”

“So goddamn pathetic” Rafe laughs out, his fingers picking up in pace again, repeatedly hitting at your gspot, forcing your orgasm from you in body shaking euphoria.

He helps you ride out your high before harshly pulling his fingers from you, bringing them into his mouth and sucking your juices from them. “Always taste so good baby”

Rafe quickly lifts you from his lap, tossing you onto your bed. “On your stomach” He demands, and you quickly obey.

You’re flat on your stomach, hands under your head as your eyes find your computer screen for what felt like the millionth time. A small squeal escapes you when Rafe’s large hands grip at your hips and lifts your ass up.

The bed dips in behind you, Rafe’s knees hitting the mattress as he kneels behind you. He lands a harsh slap to your ass with one hand while the other firmly grips at his cock, slowly pumping himself and teasing at your entrance with his swollen head.

“Rafe, please!”

He harshly thrusts himself inside, his tip hitting at your sweet spot and pulling loud moans from you. His fingertips dig into your sides, surely bruising the skin, his hips slamming into your backside roughly.

“Fuck, always feel so good f’me, so fucking wet and tight! Keep squeezin’ me like that baby, takin’ me so good, so deep”

You arch your back more, letting him thrust himself as deep as he could into your sore cunt. The sounds of your squelching pussy and Rafe’s loud groans bounce off the walls of your room, your inner walls clenching uncontrollably around Rafe’s cock, trying to squeeze out every last drop he had to give.

“R-Rafe! Gonna fuckin’ cum, holy shit, feels so goddamn good!”

Rafe slides a hand up the length of your back, reaching the back of your head and gripping at your hair. He pulls your neck backward, tears forming in your eyes from the uncomfortable position your neck was in along with the brutal thrusts of his cock. He uses the hand in your hair to keep your body steady, his free hand making its way to your face, fingers pushing past your lips and down your throat.

“Look toward the camera baby, show them how fuckin’ good I make you feel. Wanna cum? Wanna be a good fuckin’ girl and soak my cock?”

You turn your head as best you can, eyes looking directly into the camera. Your cheeks are stained with mascara, drool running down the sides of your face as Rafe’s fingers stay lodged in your mouth. You had a completely fucked out look on your face, your tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips.

You pathetically whimper when Rafe slowly pulls himself from inside you, slamming himself back inside without warning. “Go on, say it. Only I can make you feel this good. I fucking own this pussy, yeah? Say it!”

You choke out a sob, “You- You own me Rafe! You own my pussy! Only- Only you make me feel this good”

Rafe lets out a low and raspy groan, his dick twitching inside you, his warm cum spilling into your pussy.

He fucks himself into you a few more times, helping you reach your own high. He strokes the head of his cock against your gspot, making you clamp around him, your body going limp as your orgasm rushes through you, soaking his cock and your bedsheets.

He slowly pulls himself from you, his fingers falling from your mouth and letting your body fall flat onto the mattress. He softly lifts you up, turning your arousal soaked pussy toward the camera and letting your viewers watch his cum drip from your cunt.

He slowly walks toward your computer, ending the livestream without any hesitation. He walks you back to your bed, dropping your weak body down, his tall frame towering over your body.

“I want that account deleted tomorrow, and don’t ever let me catch you doing that stupid shit again, got it?”

RAFE TAGLIST: @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @lizcameron @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @mel119g @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @urmyslxt @sierraluvz @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @inluvwithmorales @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom @urbestieboo @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @bigslay86 @buckyisveryhot @cantstoptherecs

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form | all requests

[chukys-mouthguard]

broken memories

sequel to kinda tempting

4.3k words

featuring: mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe

warnings: miscarriage/loss of pregnancy, conversations about loss of pregnancy

The words of the doctor echoed in your ears as you sat in your apartment. Impatiently waiting for Matt to arrive home, picking at your nails as you couldn’t begin to formulate a plan of how to break the unfortunate news. Surely he’d be upset, angry as well. Which would be expected, the grieving process always brings out multiple emotions in everyone.

Trying to practice, your mouth could barely formulate the words. Tears not ceasing, just as you thought you’d pull yourself together you’d get choked up all over again.

The sound of your phone dinging on the couch beside you snapping you from your thoughts for a moment, a simple five minutes away :) text displayed on the screen as you felt your heart sink further into your stomach.

Not wanting to worry Matt too much, you hurried to dry your tears. Rushing to the bathroom to put some cold water on your face in hopes it would tone down the redness your crying had caused.

“Babe? I’m home!”

Hearing Matt’s voice call from the living room you did your best to calm your emotions, putting on a smile as you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall to greet him.

“There she is!”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head. Despite your efforts to control your emotions, you felt the tears beginning to form once again.

“And how is baby girl doing?”

The smile on his face broke your heart, his hands caressing your stomach as he kissed over your shirt. His eyes flashing up at yours to see the tears falling, his smile fading immediately as he wrapped you in a hug once again. Unsure as to why you were crying, but trying his best to comfort you.

As his arms wrapped around you, it was as if your world came crashing down. Matt doing his best to console you as you sobbed into his chest, despite you not saying anything he’d figured it out. His own tears formed as he tried to be strong for you, knowing that was what you needed.

“Babe, y/n, can you talk to me, please? Tell me what happened.”

Pulling yourself from his arms you walked to the couch, taking a seat as you tried to explain. Not knowing what to say, he’d clearly figured it out himself, but still needed to hear you confirm.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry Matt.”

He didn’t want to crowd you, giving you space as he sat across from you on the ottoman, his emotions starting to get the better of him.

His gaze was glued to the floor as his hands rested at the back of his neck. You watched as he sat silent, the only sounds in the room were his sharp breaths as he tried to hold back his tears.

Something told you not to comfort him, instead just waiting for him to say something. But words didn’t come, only tears as he softly cried. Hands moving to cover his face as the reality settled in. The excitement of having a little girl was now washed away. No more plans for decorating the nursery together, the constant baby name discussions would now cease, and worst of all he’d have to break the news to his family. He’d just left them a few weeks ago having told them that things were great. And now things were anything but, the world seeming so cruel for having taken your baby from the two of you.

His hands now wiped his tears as he’d settled his breathing. Standing up and slowly pacing the floor as he tried to organize his thoughts. Not wanting to overstep, but needing to know what happened.

“I, I don’t mean to upset you, but, what happened? Do you know?”

“We, we don’t know. The doctor said sometimes there isn’t an explanation, and it seems so unfair, but. God, I hate that you weren’t there that day, having to be there and think it was just a normal routine check in. And it turned so dark so fast the moment we didn’t hear the heartbeat.”

You wiped your tears as Matt stopped in his tracks. A look of confusion now on his face as he glanced over to you.

“Wait, so, this happened at your appointment that was over a week ago?”

Nodding your head you looked at him confused. “Yeah, it was the one I had to schedule while you were in Connecticut because she didn’t have any other open appointments.”

A slight chuckle left his lips as his demeanor had changed from sad to almost annoyed.

“So, you’ve known for over a week, and I just find out now? You didn’t bother to call me to tell me? I could’ve come home, I could’ve been here for you! Why would you keep this from me?”

His voice was laced with hurt and anger, which you expected. It wasn’t that you wanted this to be a secret, but how were you supposed to tell him over the phone?

“Matt, I wasn’t calling or texting you about this! Plus, you had obligations, you couldn’t just back out, you signed contracts.”

“I think they’d fucking understand if I told them my girlfriend just lost our baby!”

Matt’s shout echoed throughout the apartment, despite knowing he’d be upset, this was the last reaction you’d expected. Him to be yelling at you, as if you’d done something wrong. As if you didn’t already feel bad enough, like losing the baby was somehow your fault.

“I can’t believe you kept this from me. I think I’m coming home to you and our baby, but instead-“

“You come home to just me? Gosh I’m sorry I’m not good enough! I’m sorry that I lost the baby, as if I did it on purpose.”

Not bothering to continue the argument Matt retreated down the hall. Slamming the door to your shared bedroom, causing you to jump. Tears continued to run down your cheeks as you could only blame yourself for not telling him sooner. Wishing you would’ve had the guts to break the news right away, maybe you two wouldn’t be fighting when instead you should be comforting one another.

The apartment grew silent after the slam of the door, Matt trying his best to relax, but the idea that you’d kept this from him for over a week not leaving his mind. His eyes moving from the floor to the dresser, landing on the framed photo the two of you used to announce your pregnancy. The two of you were out of focus as you held up the ultrasound photo. Matt holding a mini hockey stick with your due date written across it.

He picked up the frame, his grip on the edge tight as he saw a few tears fall to coat the glass. He remembered how excited he was to take those photos, and how he was even more excited to post them. Being able to share with the world the new journey the two of you would be experiencing.

But now, it all had been ripped out from under him. Having to process the emotions while also wanting to be there for you, despite you having kept the news from him over a week.

His anger slowly began to overtake his sadness once again as he threw the picture frame across the room. The glass shattered as he sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands as he sobbed once again. Wishing there was something he could do to make this all better, though he knew there was no changing it.

The shattering glass should’ve caught you off guard, but you knew that Matt was experiencing all the emotions that could be expected with this news. You’d had a week to process things and start grieving, but now it was his turn. As much as you wanted to run and comfort him, you knew he’d want to be alone. Needing to get out his anger and frustration however he felt would help.

Minutes, possibly an hour had gone by before Matt finally emerged from your bedroom. His clothes were now different as he searched the kitchen counter for his phone, appearing to be heading out.

“You’re leaving?”

Despite not trying to sound annoyed, you didn’t manage to hide it. Matt typing a text on his phone before he bothered to look up at you. Grabbing his keys from the counter as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, I am. I’m not sitting around here all night crying about this. If you want to do that, have fun. Although you’ve known for over a week, and I just found out thirty minutes ago. So excuse me if I’m gonna deal with this in my own way.”

Another slam of a door and he was gone. Your heart broke to see him so hurt, as if you had any other option. Knowing he was probably heading to meet up with some of the guys that had also come back into town for workouts before training camp would start back up. And while you knew he’d probably be going to get drunk or do anything to get his mind off of the news, you wished he would’ve stayed with you.

But your tears were now ceasing as you’d tried to pull yourself together. Reaching for your phone hoping social media could be some sort of distraction. You’d tried getting some work done earlier for the Rangers socials, but didn’t make it far, clearly obvious as you opened your Tik Tok to see a message asking if you wished to continue editing a post you’d quickly given up on.

As you closed out the message, a Tik Tok soon filled your screen that had been filtered for you since it was hockey related. And as the images of Mat Barzal getting down on one knee flashed before your eyes, followed by scenes of posing and kissing, you felt your heart break all over again.

The girl soon came into view and of all people for him to be engaged to, she was the last person you ever hoped to see.

While your relationship with Mat had hardships, you’d thought they were all things you could work through. Even the secret meetups and behind your back texts he’d been sending to this mystery girl you’d come to learn was named Ava.

You never told anyone, hoping it was something you could work through despite the rift it had caused. Partially being the reason you’d gone off and slept with Matt Rempe in the first place. You were so hurt to think it was easy for someone to do that to you, to think they would never get caught. And he didn’t, because you never outed him. You loved him so much that the second he’d shown a bit of improvement, you were sure that Ava was out of the picture and he was done with her.

Turns out you were wrong.

Had he been waiting to end things with you so he could be with her? It had only been five months since things ended between you two because of your pregnancy, to get engaged that quickly it was clear he’d never cut ties.

You knew you shouldn’t be hurt, but deep down you still loved Mat, you always would. If you could go back and change everything, you’d do it in a heartbeat. But unfortunately the world didn’t work that way, and you had to deal with the cards you’d been dealt.

Not wanting to sit and sulk in your apartment any longer, you searched for your keys. Slipping on your shoes before heading out the door.

No destination in mind, just driving until you’d run out of energy or gas, whichever came first. It wasn’t until you’d seen signs for an all too familiar exit that you had realized where your subconscious had brought you.

The sign for Elmont made your heart ache, thinking of the memories that lived in this city. Muscle memory leading you to the parking garage connected to the apartment you used to call home. Finding a spot before you headed up to floor thirteen.

You wondered what the hell you were doing here, why you’d thought this idea was at all a good one. But if you were honest, you weren’t thinking at all. Your emotions getting the best of you as you reach to knock on the door, no chance to turn back.

The door opened and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. Seeing the familiar face behind it gives you goosebumps as you hadn’t thought even for a second what if someone else had opened the door.

“Y/n?”

Mat stared at you confused as you were the last person he’d expected to see at his door. Though you’d not thought of what you’d say if he was home, you knew this was the only time you’d probably get to say anything at all.

“Five months? It only took you five months to move on? Not to mention with her?”

Mat rolled his eyes as he rested an arm against the door, not wanting to argue with you when he knew there was no point.

“Y/n really? You don’t even know her to say anything about what I choose to do and with whom.”

“I know you were cheating on me with her Mat, you think I was oblivious to it?”

His eyes went wide as pushed his arm off the door, pulling you inside as this wasn’t a conversation he wanted the neighbors overhearing.

“I’m sorry?”

“You think I didn’t know? I knew about it all, but I loved you so much I thought we’d get past it. You started to change your behavior and I thought you were done with her. But clearly you never stopped, and now you’re fucking engaged to her?”

Your voice rang throughout his apartment as you paced the floor. Tears not able to form in your eyes as you’d surely cried every last one over the past week and a half. Mat let out a scoff as he watched you, waiting for an opportunity to spit back at you.

“Really? You’re going to scold me after you did the same fucking thing? If not worse? You cheated on me too, remember? And you’re fucking pregnant with that guys kid! How could we have ever recovered from that? I did cut ties with her, when I started changing my behavior it was genuine. Because I hated knowing I was doing that shit behind your back, because I loved you! And then you go and break my heart like that. So don’t try to paint me as the bad guy here okay? And why do you care anyways, you’re busy prepping for a baby with your boyfriend.”

His shouts were louder than yours as you could hear the anger that still lingered, the hurt he still felt at what you’d done. And while two wrongs certainly didn’t make a right, you both couldn’t change what you’d done. Whether it was one time, or ten, you’d both hurt one another with your actions.

Hearing him mention you being pregnant, you couldn’t help but wonder if you should tell him. Not that it would change a thing, he’d moved on and you were with Matt, but you felt he deserved to know.

“Not anymore.”

Your voice was soft, barely above a whisper as Mat’s angered expression quickly turned to one of confusion.

“Wait, what? You guys didn’t-“

“God no, I’d never do that. I lost the baby.”

He immediately regretted his words that he’d spat at you like they were nothing. How angry he’d sounded as he shouted at you, wishing he could have controlled his frustrations better.

“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry. Come here.”

The familiar feeling of his arms wrapped around you was all it took for you to break down once again. His hold on you makes you forget any of your own frustrations as he tries his best to console you. Though he knew nothing he said would be good enough, there was nothing he could say that would make this better.

“I’m such an idiot, I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have-“

“Stop, it’s okay. Like you said, you didn’t know.”

He hated seeing you so broken. He knew despite the circumstances, you were excited to be a mother. And he wanted that for you, even if it was with someone else. But to know you’d lost the opportunity, in the most unexpected of ways, it broke his heart. You didn’t deserve that, no matter if you’d hurt him and done your own wrongs. No one deserves to go through the hurt you were.

“How is Matt handling the news?”

The two of you had eventually moved to the couch, Mat getting you some water and tissues as you’d finally been able to calm down a bit.

“Not well, at all. He’s angry, and hurt. Because I didn’t tell him right away. I couldn’t. He was on the road, that’s never something I would’ve texted or told him over the phone. But, he’s mad at me for it. I think he wants to believe it would’ve changed something, had he been here for the appointment.”

Mat listened intently, still unsure what was the right response. Of course never experiencing something like this he wanted to be sensitive to your emotions, but he didn’t want to stay too quiet.

“Well, I think he definitely needs time. Especially having not found out at the same time as you. But, how are you doing?”

He cautiously reached for your hand, not wanting to come across any particular way, but sensing you could use some comfort and reassurance. Despite all that happened, he still loved you, that was never going to change.

“I, I’m okay. Not great, but okay. I’ve just spent this last week and half really thinking about everything. Thinking about the future now that all our plans are going to be changing out of nowhere. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this right now, but, part of me thinks that Matt and I won’t make it through this.”

No matter his opinion of your relationship, Mat wanted the best for you. He wanted you happy, but the way you were talking. The change in your facial expression, he could read you like a book.

“I think you’re overthinking things, sure he’s upset now. But I’m sure once he takes some time to work through his feelings, you two will be okay!”

A slight chuckle left your lips as you shook your head.

“No, I’m not talking about that. I’m saying, if I hadn't gotten pregnant, he and I wouldn’t even be together right now. I’d still be with you, we’d be the ones planning a wedding. I don’t want to sound cold or heartless, but deep down I know I’m only with him because of the baby. If I had things my way, you know it would be you.”

His fingers tangled with yours as he smirked, the thought unbeknownst to you had also crept through his mind a few times. Wondering what if countless times.

What if he’d never snuck around behind your back, what if you hadn’t done the same to him. What if you’d never gotten pregnant, what if he’d still had you as his fiance. Surely you would have been married by now, even maybe expecting a baby of your own. At least, that’s how Mat would have planned it if he had the choice.

“Well, as much as I’d love to say that it still could be, things aren’t exactly that easy. Plus, you don’t even know if you and Matt are actually going to break up because of everything. Just, try to not get ahead of yourself, okay?”

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as he checked his phone, noticing the time and hating to rush you out. But you knew you couldn’t stay longer, needing to get home so Matt didn’t wonder where you were.

He walked you to the door, wrapping you in a hug as he apologized once again.

“Listen, you need anything, and I mean anything, please don’t ever feel like you cannot come to me. Okay? I don’t care what happened, I love you, I always will, and I will always be here for you.”

Mat kissed your head before he said goodbye, watching you head down the hall as you dreaded the drive back home not knowing which Matt you would be coming home to. Whether or not he’d be drunk after drowning his feelings, or if he would have trashed more things in the apartment.

But as you returned home, you’d realized he wasn’t back yet. Leaving you to assess the damage from earlier when he’d retreated to your bedroom. Your eyes immediately falling on the shattered picture frame, your pregnancy announcement photo now laying on the floor. As if an accurate representation for how life now felt, a mess of broken memories.

The sound of the door opening letting you know Matt was home, his keys clanging against the counter as you heard him making his way down the hall. Leaning against the door frame he watched as you finished cleaning up the glass, placing the photo on the dresser as you headed for the kitchen in need of a trash can.

“Can we talk?”

His voice was soft, a little hoarse as if he’d been crying. You looked at him with a blank expression, heading to the couch as you assumed he’d follow suit. Which he did, finding a place on the couch as he sighed. The two of you sat in silence for what felt like thirty minutes before either of you spoke.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that alone. I hate I wasn’t here for you, to comfort you while you experienced the roller coaster of emotions that can come with news like that. And I hate that you felt you couldn’t tell me before I came home tonight, but I hope you understand my frustrations. I didn’t mean to walk out on you, but I had a lot to think about.”

“Like what?”

A look of confusion washed over you as he tossed his hat to the side, running a hand through his hair. A deep sigh left his lips as he took a second to gather his thoughts.

“Losing the baby opened my eyes to a lot of things, and as much as I try to convince myself otherwise, I just don’t think I can do this. We both know, whether we want to admit it or not, we are only here right now because of the baby. If you wouldn’t have gotten pregnant, you and Mat would probably be married right now. This was never real, as much as we wanted it to be for the baby. It was never going to be me, no matter how much I hoped it would be. No matter how easily we fell into this routine trying to make this work. Without the baby, what are we?”

Despite having had the same thoughts, it didn’t make this conversation hurt any less. The idea that you weren’t wrong for thinking the baby was the only thing keeping you and Matt together. No matter how hard you tried convincing yourself that the feelings were real and you were happy with Matt, deep down it didn’t feel right. Sure being with the father of your child made sense, it felt natural, the right thing to do. But when that man was the person you’d cheated on your boyfriend with, never anything more, it was hard to make a relationship work from that.

“I don’t hate you, I have so much love in my heart for you. I wish this could have been our story, but maybe, as shitty as this is losing our baby. Maybe this was our sign that it wasn’t meant for us, at least not together.”

You hadn’t noticed any tears until Matt reached out to wipe one from your cheek, his hand resting to caress your cheek.

“I’m gonna pack up as much of my stuff as I can tonight, I’m gonna go stay with the Quick’s for a little bit while I continue my training before camp. I’ll come back and get the rest of my things as I’m able.”

Nodding your head you took a deep breath, smiling up at him despite the pain you felt. Never imagining this day to come, thinking the two of you were in this for the rest of your lives.

You watched as Matt retreated to the bedroom, packing up whatever he could take with him. Keeping your space to let him take care of things as you tried to keep busy tidying up the apartment.

The sound of him shuffling down the hall made you stop your cleaning, meeting him by the front door as he gave you a soft smile. Dropping his bags as he wrapped you in a hug, kissing your head before reaching for the door.

“If you need anything, I’m just a call away okay?”

With that, he was gone, and the apartment once again felt ten times larger being there alone. Checking the time you knew you needed to go to bed, the day having drained every last ounce of energy from you.

Searching for your phone you’d found it on the couch, realizing you never bothered to text Mat you’d made it home safe. Not that you expected him to worry, his offer to text him if you needed anything seemed like a subconscious thing said in passing.

To: Mat Barzal

Made it home safe, been dealing with a bit…matt packed his things and left

[jaeyums]

Just One More (Part 11)

Pairings - Fratboy!Haechan x reader (lowkey x dreamies)

Word Count - 3k

Content Warning - smut (obvi), angst, slight corruption kink, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving). fingering, drinking, loss of virginity, Fratboy! Haechan (kinda), Toxic!Haechan, mentions of drowning (what??) pls Imk if I missed anything

Summary - You curse your new neighbours for partying what feels like every night, the booming bass making it impossible to sleep. Fed up, you finally ask them to turn it down, but when you're forced to make a seemingly harmless deal, things spiral faster than you ever could've imagined.

A/N - part two yippeee :3 sorry it was so late loll

previous | next

————————————————————————

You slowly open your eyes, immediately closing them again in pain as your head throbs.

“Holy fuck.”

Is all you’re able to say, as you try again to open your eyes, your vision slightly blurry. You reach for where your water bottle sits on your nightstand, only to find an empty space.

You continue to feel around the nightstand only for your eyes to fully adjust, and for you to realize this night stand is black rather than the off white colour you’re used to.

This shock wakes you up fully in a matter of seconds, and you look around an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed.

“Holy fuck.”

You repeat, the reality of your situation setting in. After a moment of processing, you quickly toss away to sheets, and sigh in relief as you see that all your clothes from the previous night are still on.

You check the other side of the bed hesitantly, patting on a puffy part of the blanket, only for it to sink down upon your touch.

Saying a small thank you to the universe, you climb out of the bed, and walk towards the door. You wrap your hands around the handle and push.

It doesn’t budge.

You twist and push again, still nothing. You try again with your whole body weight pressing against the door, only to here a groan come from the other side.

“Fuck, give me a second, would ya.”

A grumpy voice can be heard through the door.

“Haechan?”

You ask tentatively. Opening the door with ease after hearing a body shuffle out of the way.

“In the flesh.”

He says leaning against the other side of the hallway.

“Why did you sleep outside?”

“I knew you’d end up in my bed eventually , but I excepted me to be joining you. So I think the better question is why did you sleep inside, inside my room. ”

You tilt your head, that is a good question actually. You try to think back to last night, only for the sinking realization that you can’t remember much past the game of truth or dare.

“Oh god, what happened last night.”

Your voice slightly panicked. So many different scenarios start flipping through your head, like a disturbing film reel.

He just laughs looking entertained and surprisingly handsome for someone who slept on the floor all night.

“Does this mean you don’t remember our deal? Tsk tsk, I’m disappointed. No worries though, I remember the deal, so it’s no issue.”

“You made a deal with me while I was blacked out? You totally took advantage of me.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

“If I actually wanted to take advantage of you, I could’ve. You were a mess.”

His words sting, a darkness in his eyes almost consuming you. Though, when he sees your face drop even more, he sighs, rolling his eyes in annoyance and starts to explain.

“Not that long after truth or dare you locked yourself in here and told me to guard the door ‘with my life’.”

Now you look more confused than upset.

“Why would I do that?”

You wonder aloud.

“If I had to guess, it might’ve been from the fact that everyone here wanted to talk to you. Jaemin, Jeno, Chenle, Mark. You won’t alone for more than a second before someone wanted to steal you away.”

Something hangs between the lines as he speaks, a negative emotion your hungover state can’t place it’s finger on.

“Okay…so what was the deal?”

You’re almost scared to ask.

“That you’ll come to my next party.”

He smiles widely, he finds himself hilarious.

“Are you serious.”

“Dead, but the next one isn’t here, it’s at my parents’ house. They’re gone for the weekend and the pool there is sick.”

“A pool party?”

He nods, pushing himself off the wall to move closer to you.

“Now how about you scamper on home. You’ve had a long night.”

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

The next day while on facetime with your friend, you decide to tell her about the party. She’s half listening while doing her makeup, but when you mention Haechan she freezes.

“Wait did you say Haechan? Like Lee Haechan? Tall? Black hair? Sarcastic? Sexy?”

“Uh yeah? Why?”

You ask confused, but by the expression on her face, your know whatever your friend is about to say is bad news.

“Y/n he is a known fuckboy. Like he’s in a frat for godsake. You need to be careful around him, I’m serious.”

You roll your eyes annoyed.

He’s Mr. pump and dump, smash and dash, ejaculate and evacu-“

“okay okay I get it, thank you,”

You cut her off, getting the message loud and clear.

“I wasn’t planning on getting with him, don’t worry. He couldn’t get close even if he tried.”

“Didn’t you just say you blacked out and slept in his bed.”

“Okay shut up, it won’t happen again.”

She nods, looking unconvinced. You two continue to chat until you get another call, this time from an unsaved number.

“Wait I’m getting a call, gimme a sec.”

You answer the call bringing your phone to your ear.

“Hello? This is y/n right?”

“Uh yes, speaking?”

“It’s me, don’t get too excited.”

You sigh, his familiar voice teasingly heard through the phone.

“How did you get my number, Haechan.”

“You gave it to me when you were drunk.”

“No I didn’t.”

There’s a long pause.

“…I got it off Jisung’s phone.”

That definitely makes more sense, you know you were black out, but there was no chance you would have given Haechan your number.

“I’m just calling to make sure you’re still coming to the party tonight? I’m already at the place getting stuff ready, it’s gonna be lit.”

“Do I have to go?”

You whine, hoping he’ll take some sympathy on you from how tired you sound.

“Yup! See you then.”

You hear a long tone, signalling he’s hung up. Fine, you’ll go to his pool party, but he never said anything about actually swimming. You do enough of that at work anyways.

Calling back your friend, you quickly update her on who called and what he said. She gave you a worried look, warning you again to be careful.

With the closet doors swung open, you start shifting through your clothes trying to pick an outfit. You get an idea, turning back to your phone.

“Wait, why don’t you just come with me? That way you can keep an eye on this whole Haechan thing and we can have fun for once.”

“Can’t I have an opening shift tomorrow.”

You groan in response, turning back to your closet in defeat.

“Whatever I didn’t even want you to go anyways.”

You tease.

The two of you continue to joke around, her giving you advice on what to wear and you modelling your options.

You end up settling on short denim shorts, paired with a white baby tee. With everything said and done, you tell her good bye before grabbing your keys and heading out to the party

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

The house is bigger than you ever would’ve imagined and it is jumping. This party was massive, especially compared to his previous party. People had gathered all over the property, some on the front lawn, some on a balcony up above you head.

You shift your weight between your feet, suddenly feeling nervous. Once again you feel the need to find Haechan, rationalizing your thoughts by saying it’s only to ensure he knows you held up your side of the deal. You were an hour late so he’s probably wondering where you are, right?

You’re barely two steps into the house when you hear someone call your name.

“Y/n! Get your ass over here, love.”

Jeno stands next to Chenle and Mark, the three of them already holding red solo cups.

“Go grab a drink.”

Jeno gestures with his head towards where the kitchen must be located. You shake your head with an awkward smile.

“I can’t drink, and I’m serious this time. I drove here.”

The boys look a little disappointed but nod in understanding. They continue to talk amongst each other, but you can’t listen, your eyes scanning the crowd nonstop.

Mark interrupts your search with a smirk.

“Looking for someone special?”

He teases, but you can tell he already knows who your dying to see.

“He’s outside, near the pool.”

With that you say goodbye, telling them you’ll be back in a bit, and head off towards the backyard.

The music is just as loud outside as it is inside, your ears still not fully adjusted. The pool itself is quite big as well, although there are very few people actually swimming. Most of them just sitting along the edge talking, only dipping there feet in.

The familiar smell of chlorine tickles your nose and you do a quick scan of the pool, simply out of habit when you notice a boy bobbing a bit in what you assume to be the deep end.

“Oh god please don’t actually be drowning.”

You whisper to yourself, your eyes still locked onto him, he was clearly struggling but you were having a hard time figuring out if it was just a prank or if he was really sinking.

Suddenly his head dips bellow the surface and doesn’t return, and you spring into action, running to the edge closest to him and diving in.

Under the water you can see him, still struggling, but his eyes slowly closing. You hook your arms around his, securing him in your grasp, and pinching his nose with your other hand. You kick back to the surface, your lungs starting to burn.

Returning to the surface, you see a couple boys waiting at the edge, you shout instructions to them as you tow the boy in their direction.

Ordering them on how to lift him out, you plunge back into the water, sitting the boy on your shoulder. You tap the deck three times, signalling to the boys to pull him up, and you push him upwards as hard as you can.

They drag him away from the pool and you climb out quickly, following them. You’re fully locked in, having done this a hundred times.

Sitting next to him as he coughs, you run through your typical checklist. He turns out to be relatively fine, just a stupid victim of drinking and swimming, something that should never mix.

As you continue to talk to him, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Haechan staring at you with such intensity you almost flinch.

“I saw everything, are you okay?”

“Of course, I mean it’s always a little scary but I’m fine. I’m more worried about him.”

“He’s fine, just an idiot. Here, let’s get you dried off.”

You now remember that you’re not actually wearing your guarding uniform. Looking down, you realize your white shirt has become completely see through, sticking to your body, your red bra on full display.

“Yeah okay, thank you.”

With that he grabs your hand and leads you through the party to his bedroom upstairs, weaving between people in crowded places.

“This is my room, head inside. I’ll be right back.”

You open the door hesitantly, turning back for his reassurance, but he has already disappeared. You walk inside to see his room is surprisingly neat. It’s pretty big too, with posters lining his walls, he even has a balcony that overlooks the backyard.

You notice a mirror attached to his closet and walk over to see how much of a mess you look right now. Your mascara is ruined, running down your face like you just watched the saddest movie ever. You hair is soaked, it looks almost intentionally slicked back, except for a stray strand or two.

While fussing with it, you hear the door open, but you pay Haechan no mind as he enters, closing the door behind him. You’re much too occupied fixing your hair.

He comes behind you, brining his head next to yours, staring at your reflection with darkened eyes.

“You look so pretty.”

He whispers, bringing his hand around the opposite side of your head to smudge some of the black staining your cheeks.

“What I wouldn’t give to make your mascara run like this”.

You feel your face heat up, your stomach doing a flip from to his words and touch. You swat his hand away, turning your face.

“Shut up, Haechan.”

He just smirks, and hands you a folded towel. You hastily take it and walk over to his connected bathroom. You lock the door behind you and undress.

The shower itself is heavenly. The water on your skin had became cold, so the heat of the water pouring down felt amazing. You wash your hair and do your best to rid your face of the racoonish look it’s taken.

You finally finish, wrapping the towel just below your shoulders once you’re dry. You reach for your clothes before realizing they’re still soaked. It had completely slipped your mind that you’d need new clothes.

You tentatively open the door, peaking your head around the room. You see Haechan laying on his bed, scrolling on his phone absentmindedly. You call out to him, and he looks up, his eyes instantly devouring you.

“I uh, could I borrow some clothes? Mine are still wet.”

He doesn’t move for a moment, still taking you in. Finally, he gets up, and walks over to his closet.

“Lemme see what I have, I might have some old sweatpants that might fit.”

He ends up picking black sweat pants and a matching black long sleeve, tossing both to you. You catch them with one hand, not daring to let go of the towel.

Slipping back into the bathroom, you quickly change. You check out your new outfit in the bathroom mirror. Both items are way too big for you. Even though the shirt is massive it somehow still hugs the curves of your breasts. You don’t love the fact that you have nothing on underneath Haechans clothes.

You step back into his room where he’s waiting for you.

“How do the pants fit?”

You pull up the shirt slightly with one hand, and pull up the sweats with the other, before dropping them, demonstrating how they drop down landing just below your hip bones.

“What do you think?”

You ask sarcastically. He let’s out a little laugh at your demonstration, stepping closer.

“Here let me help.”

He grabs the waist of the pants, rolling them up once then twice. His fingers ghosting your bare waist in the process. When he finishes, his hands still remain. You can’t help but hyper focus on his touch, on how his warm hands feel on your skin.

Tension fills the air. You look up at him, meeting his gaze. There’s another pause, and you can’t take it anymore.

“Kiss me already.”

You whisper, it’s barely audible, you would’ve wondered if he had even heard you if he hadn’t already dipped down, meeting your lips with his.

His grip on your waist tightens as he pushes you against the wall, his leg moving to find home between yours.

Your mouths move together unison, you feel yourself falling deeper in his trance. Though, there’s still a small whisper in your head, reminding you of your friends words, her warning.

Before you can pay attention to it, Haechan starts to push your body down on his thigh, guiding you to grind slowly against it. His kisses moving to your neck, causing you to tilt your head back on the wall in pleasure.

A hand snakes up your waist to rest on your breast, his thumb running over your bud delicately. A small moan escapes your lips, and you swear you can feel him smile against the skin of your neck.

He continues to attack your neck, his hand squeezing and massaging your breast rhythmically.

You pull his head back up by his chin to kiss him, your lips were feeling lonely.

He picks you up, and your legs wrap instinctually around his waist. He carries you to his bed, laying you down gently.

His arms resting on either side of your head, he looks down on you like you’re a feast for kings and he is starving.

He gives you quick but deep kiss, before moving down your body. His hand moves to the waist of your sweatpants, but you grab it before he can slide them down your legs.

“Haechan.”

You say breathlessly, staring down at him with puppy-like eyes.

“Yes, y/n?”

“I..I don’t want to move too fast.”

He looks up at you, a smirk slowly growing on his face. Your innocence is so cute to him.

“Don’t worry princess, you don’t have to move at all. I’ll do all the work.”

He teases, but he still doesn’t move, waiting for your approval to continue.

You bite your lip. Your friend’s warning ringing through your head again.

Fuck it, just one more night with Haechan can’t hurt.

————————————————————————

tags : @snflwrhaerecs4u @ki-aechan @loveforred @whiplashhhh @miniminkis @milimo07 @neocityhoe @90s-belladonna @toroufriteh @renjunniex @chimiwimi @cas104 @dongsookie0606

[vampcubus]

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!yandere!izuku, dom!fem!reader, kinda mean reader, izuku being delusional & obsessive, spitting, oral (f!receiving), not proofread.

I wanna bully Yandere Izuku just a bit, just to watch him crumple at the slightest crumb of attention. Because let’s face it, Izuku doesn’t care if you’re being nice to him. He wants you to perceive him, to acknowledge him as something tangible — something worth your time. And if you spend that time pulling on his chubby cheeks and hooking your fingers in his mouth to spit into it, who is he to try and stop you?

If he can’t be with you, he can at least be entertaining for you. If you say all he’s good for is to spread his legs and fuck himself on his fingers while you watch, who is he to disagree? All that processes in his fuzzy little head is that he’s good for something.

It’s just fun at first, teasing your pathetic little stalker to see him trip over himself. You didn’t mean for it to go this far, but you can’t deny that the creep has grown on you. After all, who else would get on their knees and worship the ground you walk on while being treated like a pet? Not many, which makes Izuku a special case that you just can’t get enough of.

Your conscience is telling you to get outta there, that playing with someone’s feelings that was so clearly ill for you was a bad idea. You can imagine the fit he’d throw if you proposed such an idea, actually quite vividly because he’s throwing it right now.

“What do you mean we shouldn’t see each other anymore? I thought things were going so well!” He sobs into your thigh, his arms and legs clinging to your leg like a child. Your hands hover just above his head awkwardly, unsure if you should really be comforting him right then. “You can’t break up with me now!”

“Break up? We were never even a thing. There’s nothing to break up. I let you follow me around and we had a bit of fun, but really this is getting out of control. I mean, I’m using you, you know?”

Izuku doesn’t seem to be hearing you though, too caught up in his own delusions. You had expected him to take it poorly, but this was worse than you thought.

“You weren’t concerned about using me before. Why are you abandoning me all of a sudden? I just wanna make you happy!” The man bawls, and you’re ashamed by how the pathetic look on his face excites you.

He was pretty, even when he cried.

“Don’t you see that whatever fantasy world you live in isn’t real? I told you from the beginning that a relationship between us was impossible.”

“But you keep coming back to me. That means I’m useful to you, right? I’ve been so good for you. I’ve stopped following you around as much and I’ve been taking less of your stuff like you asked me to! I’ve done everything you asked without question, you can’t throw me away now!” Izuku’s fingers twist in your shirt, and he uses it as leverage to drag himself up from the floor.

“Izuku,” you sigh, more protestations resting on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.

“Let me prove to you how much you need me. That no one can make you feel as good as I can, can submit to you like I can.” He sinks to his knees before you, like he’s done countless times before, his shaking hands pulling your skirt up so he can mouth at your cunt through the cotton of your panties.

Your knees buckle at the contact, your hand rushing down to hold the back of his head despite yourself. You can only sigh and let him lap at you, letting him tug your panties down your legs to suckle at your oversensitive pussy properly.

You have to admit that he’s gotten much better at this. You can vividly remember the first time you let him go down on you, teaching him how to eat you out the way you liked it. And you can tell now that he’d memorized every word, every moan of approval and scrap of praise you’ve thrown his way because he knows just where you need his slick tongue to tease.

Izuku still moans excitedly into your pussy after all this time, as if the act itself was pleasurable for him too. Not knowing that he dreamed of it years before you met officially, or how he fucked his fist until his cock was raw at the thought of tasting you. He savors every swipe of his pink tongue over you abundant slick like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to, and with a hitch of his breath, tears spring to his eyes when he realizes that it might be.

If he didn’t do a good job you’d leave him.

[foreingersgod]

Can I request a Caitlin Clark x taller Fem Hockey Player Reader who dresses masculine (Reader is extremely clumsy/looks like she has fawn legs when Reader is on normal ground, but when the reader is on the ice she is a force to be reckoned with)

(And the reader has a short and curly ‘burly touching her shoulders’ artist bob hairstyle)

Plot:

-Reader clumsily ran into Caitlin and managed to spill Caitlin’s coffee/hot tea drink on the reader

Reader is embarrassed and just sorta starts rambling out apologizes (I imagine Robin Buckley style rambling) completely ignoring the hot drink that was spilled on her (the readers used to getting injured by her own fawn legs at this point so it doesn’t even faze her)

Reader offers to buy Caitlin a new drink and Caitlin offers to get the taller girl a new shirt

(After that they began dating)

The reader is extremely vocal in her support of Caitlin and the Basketball team when it’s basketball season

So when it’s time for the readers hockey season to begin Caitlin and the team surprise the reader at game in support of reader — but the team is so used to the readers clumsiness that they are shock at how amazing the reader plays on the ice almost like reader is Jack Frost

Maybe at the end Caitlin tells the reader she loves the taller readers clumsiness and finds It endearing how reader is hard core hockey player on the ice and a clumsy goofball on regular ground but no matter either or the reader is always the softness person for her/caitlin

(Sorry This is long I’m kinda sleepy and I can’t find the energy to simplify this 🫤🫠😭😞🥱🥱😪)

— LadyBatSuperKing 🏳️‍🌈🦇🦸‍♂️👑

She’s a force to be reckoned with . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: *refer to request

NOT PROOF READ !!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

the alarm clock on your bedside table wailed throughout your bedroom. waking up for practice at 5:30 in the morning should be a crime. you were in no mood to lace up your skates and throw on your gear at all today, especially this early. despite your body pleading to stay in bed for 5 more minutes, you forced yourself to get up and get ready for the day.

you fumbled around your bathroom, trying to quickly tame your hair and brush your teeth, knocking down numerous toiletries in the process. you whispered a few curses under your breathe as you knocked over your bottle of hair product, half of its contents emptying into the sink.

eventually, and certainly not without clumsily cluttering half of your apartment, you managed to make your way out of the door and on your way to practice.

you tried to enjoy the early hours of the morning as you meandered down the street, dipping into your favorite coffee shop to wash away the 6:00 am drowsiness. it wasn’t busy like it normally was. only a few business men with their eyes glued to their phones and a completely exhausted college student stood around the shop.

glancing at your phone, you realized that you were going to be late if you didn’t hurry up and order so you made haste to order your drink and leave. grabbing your cup from the barista, you swiftly turned around and headed for the door. before you could even wrap your fingers around the handle, a woman, surprisingly just as tall as you were, pushed the door open. the door pushed right into you, the girl running straight into your chest and spilling your coffee all over the front of your clothes.

“fuck” you cursed, feeling the steaming drink seep through your shirt and onto your skin.

“holy shit, i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you there at all i swear to god!” the girl said, cheeks burning up in embarrassment. she ran over to the counter and returned with several napkins, trying to dab up the coffee that was still dripping onto the floor.

“no no you’re…you’re fine it’s not a biggie” you tried to say, not wanting to make a big deal of it all. you could tell she felt horrible about it and you didn’t want to make her feel any worse, even if she did just destroy one of the only shirts that actually fit your tall figure. “this happens all the time! like don’t even-don’t even worry about it it’s totally cool! i should be sorry, i was totally in your way, completely my fault really!”

“what? no! of course it’s a big deal, i just destroyed your shirt dude” completely unfazed by your rambling. her gaze finally met yours and you could now get a clear look of her face. and damn was she smoking hot. not to mention she was tall enough that she didn’t have to strain her neck to see you like everyone else did. “is there…is there anything i can do? i feel like shit, i shouldn’t have rushed through the door like that without paying attention.”

“you’re really fine, don’t worry about it” you gave her a genuine smile.

“can i at least buy you a new shirt? a new drink?” it came out more like a beg than an offer.

“well,” you shrugged “since this was one of my only shirts that fit, i think a replacement would be very generous, thank you”

“definitely, yea no problem” she stuttered out “um, i’m caitlin, sorry we had to meet in such a shitty situation”

you both laughed “i’m YN, nice to meet you caitlin”

and the rest was history, she bought you a new shirt, you bought you both two cups of coffee, and she offered to walk with you the rest of the way to your practice. before parting ways, you exchanged contacts and made plans to hangout later that night. scorching hot coffee spilling on your shirt was probably the best thing that had happened to you in a long time.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

it had been several months since you met cait at the coffee shop, and now you both were happily dating. you originally thought she wanted to be just friends, aware that your clumsiness and tall figure wasn’t typically something that someone looked for in a woman. but she was very adamant that she loved you for you, finding the beauty and originality in your clumsy nature and being incredibly grateful to have a girlfriend that understands what it’s like to have to duck to fit through some doors. to her, you were funny and original and you both had so much in common, she couldn’t fathom a world in which you stayed friends.

your relationship so far has been absolute bliss. hockey season eventually ended as you started getting to know each other, so there was a lot of night spent watching her practice and even more evenings watching her play. you’ll admit, basketball was never your thing, the rink was the only place you were comfortable, but falling in love with caitlin really made you fall in love with the sport too. you were like her ‘personal cheerleader’ she told you, always shouting her name and repping a #22 jersey. the team became your family at this point and you loved nothing more than supporting them from the stadium seats.

the basketball season eventually came to an end and it was truly a privilege to watch your girlfriend blow everyone away. watching her and her team win, take home titles and awards made you explode with joy. but you were even more excited to share the coming hockey season for the first time with caitlin and the rest of the team.

they all knew you to be the klutz in your relationship, so you were anticipating the looks on their faces when they saw you on the ice.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“alright, baby, we’ll be watching” caitlin said, rubbing your arm through your jersey and padding. she had met you in the hallway, outside the locker room, to wish you luck one more time before your game started.

“i love so much, thanks for being here” you pulled her in for a kiss.

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world”

she made her way back out to where the team was sitting, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before she left. you could see them laugh and smile with each other and it made you so happy that they were all here to support you.

your coach hollered for you from inside the locker room not long after and you quickly hustled back to lace up. after you were completely geared up, stretched, and given a sturdy team pep talk by coach, you were ready to head out onto the rink.

the announcers called out everyone’s names, including yours, and you could practically feel caitlin’s smile from down there. then before you knew it, the whistle was blown and the game started.

it was going incredibly well. you had your stick poised and ready to to move effortlessly across the ice. every one of your movements was deliberate and precise, you felt as though you were gliding on air. when the puck was hurtled toward you, you reacted with lightning reflexes, intercepting it with a graceful flick of your stick.

this was your moment, you thought, time for everyone to see that you weren’t as clumsy on the ice.

you skated down the rink, charging forward to drive the puck into the opponents goal. you were up against girls almost twice your size. and yet, when everyone was sure that you would slip up when the girls came at you, you slid around them with unwavering speed and focus. you were past them in mere seconds, shocking the crowd. finally, you reached the goal and you took your shot, sending it flying right into the net of the goal.

the crowd erupted with applause, hollering your number and screaming for your team. but you were only focused on finding caitlin and the girls. you spotted her almost immediately, locking eyes, and laughing under your breathe when you saw the looks on all of their faces. their eyes were wide and their mouths hanging open with shock, totally dumbfounded by your change in coordination.

after your astounding goal that put your team ahead of your opponents, the game felt like it was over in seconds. your team was incredibly happy that you had won your first game of the season. you all made your way off the rink and into the locker room again, signing posters and shirts as you walked down the tunnel. everyone was changing into their post-game clothes, congratulating one another, and hugging everyone goodbye until tomorrow’s practice.

you hurriedly pulled your gear off and put on your team hoodie and watching sweats, trying to make it out to see caitlin and girls as fast as you could. sure enough, the second you stepped out those doors, they all stood with posters and flowers, excited to shower you and praise and congratulate you on the game.

“you guys are so sweet, thanks for coming!” you beamed, hugging everyone one by one.

“oh of course!” kate smiled at you.

“wouldn’t miss it,” hannah followed “we wouldn’t want to miss those killer moves! who knew you could move like that you klutz” she nudged your shoulder, playfully.

you all laughed with her, making jokes about how your long legs made you almost invincible out on the rink and how they were all worried you’d slip and fall. but you loved that they all cared about you and were proud of what you accomplished tonight.

after the team was finished catching up with you, they retired for the night and headed their separate ways. of course caitlin stayed behind, ready to walk you to her car and head back to her place to further “celebrate”

“you know i love you, and i think you were fantastic tonight, right?” she said from the drivers side of her car.

“of course, why? is everything ok?”

“yea no, no, everything’s fine” she smiled, glancing between you and the road. “i know me and you and the team…we’ll all joke about your clumsiness sometimes, but…i don’t know i just wanted to make sure you knew that i genuinely love that about you”

“cait” you blushed

“seriously, i love everything about you, from your clumsiness and your rambling, to your precision in your games…i love that you’re just as tall as me, if not more, even if you feel insecure about it. i love that your goofy when it’s just me and you. i’m seriously so in love with everything about you, it’s crazy”

“you’re so sweet to me, caitlin, i love you so much” you reached over the console to hold her hand “more than you know” all she did was smile back at you, rubbing her thumb over yours as you sped down the road to her apartment.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

A/N: again, i’m sorry if there are an inaccuracies with the hockey terminology, but i hope you love it nonetheless! i loved this request, thanks so much anon, enjoy! <3

[morningsharksworld]

Funny idea of reader just saying "I'm going to gnaw on you like a BONE if you keep flirting with me, big boy." Like imagine the reaction Hazard would have

Keep Talking

Hazard x Reader [REQUEST]

A/N: The way that i immediately RAN to my computer to write this because I JUST LOVE THIS LMAO?? Big ol thank you to you my dear anon for being my third ask!

You and Hazard were walking side by side through the quiet, dimly lit streets. He was doing his usual thing—flirting and throwing out ridiculous comments—but tonight, his charm wasn’t quite landing the same way.

“So, I’ve been thinkin’…” Hazard said with that smooth Scottish drawl of his. “If ye were a dessert, ye’d be a fine piece o’ cake. I’m talkin’ one o’ those fancy cakes, the kind wi’ gold flakes and everything.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a little smirk. Typical Hazard—no subtlety, no boundaries.

“Oh really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m a cake? You want to devour me or something?”

Hazard’s grin spread across his face. "Aye, sweet pea. Who wouldn’t want to sink their teeth into somethin’ as sweet as ye?”

You shook your head in disbelief but smiled, nonetheless. "Alright, enough of this cake talk. Keep flirting like that, and I swear, I’ll gnaw on you like a BONE.”

Hazard froze for a moment, blinking at you. He tilted his head, the usual confidence faltering for just a second as he processed your words.

“A bone?” He repeated, clearly trying not to burst out laughing. “So, ye want to sink yer teeth into me, aye? What kinda bone are we talkin’ about here? Like… a chicken wing, or…?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, deadpan. "Oh, I dunno, Hazard. Somethin’ big and meaty… maybe somethin’ you wouldn’t be able to get away from.”

Hazard dramatically clutched his chest, clearly in over-the-top mock horror. "Och, nae… please" he said, trying to keep his voice steady but failing miserably. "The thought o’ ye gnawin’ on me is almost too much for me heart to bear." He paused, then leaned in a bit, his face serious but the twinkle in his eyes betraying him. "I’m just so delicious, aren’t I?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, his over-the-top reaction only making you more entertained.

“You’re ridiculous” you said with a grin, trying to hide how much you were enjoying this. “But honestly, you can’t keep flirting like that without consequences.”

Hazard laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the game. “Oh, I’m all for consequences” he said, his voice a little too casual. But then, as if realizing what he’d just said, he cleared his throat, the smile on his face suddenly a bit more nervous. “I mean—ye know—if ye wanna bite me, I’d nae say no…”

You raised an eyebrow, not letting him off the hook. "Oh, you sure about that?" you teased. "Because I’m not sure you can handle it."

Hazard laughed again, a little louder this time, but you could see the blush creeping onto his cheeks. He tried to keep his usual swagger, but his attempt at hiding his flustered state was not very subtle. “Aye, I can handle it… I can handle anythin’ ye throw at me. Easily.”

But there was a slight waver in his voice that told you he was starting to lose the battle. His grin faltered, and he took a step back, pretending to compose himself, but his ears were definitely a shade redder than before.

“Aye, well… if ye do start bitin’, I reckon I’ll enjoy it more than I should” he added, trying to recover. “But don’t get too bite-y on me, eh? I’ve got a reputation to protect, ye ken?”

You smirked, enjoying the fact that you’d finally flustered him. “Reputation, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to find out if you’re as tough as you say, won’t I?”

Hazard’s confident swagger returned in full force, though there was still that faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Oh, I’m tough, alright” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Ye won’t find anyone tougher than me.”

You couldn’t resist. “We’ll see about that” you teased, leaning in slightly, just to see how flustered you could make him.

For a moment, Hazard looked like he was about to burst into another round of laughter, but instead, he shifted uneasily on his feet. “Aye, alright, maybe ye’ve got me there” he said, scratching the back of his neck, his usual confident exterior faltering just a little more. “Ye know, I thought I could handle anythin’, but ye might just be… too much for me, sweet pea”

You laughed at his sudden bashfulness, the way he tried to remain tough but couldn't quite hide the fact that you’d gotten to him.

“Well” you said, taking a step back, “looks like you finally met your match, Haz.”

He paused for a moment, then, with a grin that was a mix of embarrassment and amusement, he held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, ye win this round, sweetheart. But don’t think for a second that I’m goin’ down without a fight.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m sure you won’t. But for now, just know… I’m keepin’ my teeth to myself.”

Hazard let out a small, defeated laugh, scratching his head. “Aye, well, thank God for that. I might have had to run if ye really started…”

Despite his words, he couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his lips. Hazard might have gotten flustered, but that only made him more endearing, and you both knew it.