#but Luke is coming very close second

[murdrdocs]

UNTITLED 001. luke castellan

description. luke sneaks into your cabin with pure intentions in mind. those quickly turn into something more.

includes. SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, fem! pet names ("sweet girl"), semi-public sex (everyone's asleep), unprotected p n v, desperate luke, very slight somno (r is dozing off but consenting), very slight coercion

wc: 1.2k+

thinkin abt ... Luke sneaking into your cabin, having abandoned the kids back in the Hermes cabin and he just hopes that nothing bad will happen in the hour he’ll be gone.

He shouldn’t have left in the first place, but he needed to feel your body. Even just by laying with you for a little while, letting your breaths synchronize and lull him off to a relaxed state of mind.

It's what he does at first. 

Laying with his chest to your back, an arm thrown over your waist, his eyes closed as he matches your breathing. You’re awake for a little while, but neither of you speak.

By the time you’re dozing back off, Luke has different intentions. His hand has pressed flat against your torso, having slid up a little to splay beneath your chest. He whispers your name, and only when you answer in a low hum does he let his hand trail the rest of the way up.

He waits, he hesitates, attempting to gauge your reaction. 

You’re tired, he knows it. You had been unable to hold your eyes open during dinner earlier in the night, and now, you nuzzle yourself closer to him as if you’re planning to fully walk into the embrace of sleep. 

You bury your head under his chin, settling your ass against his crotch.

“‘M tired,” you explain as if he hadn’t already known that.

“I know. I know, sweet girl.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I'll take care of you. You don’t have to do anything. Okay, angel?”

He's a sweet talker, always has been. Luke could convince you to do anything. He knows his power, but he speaks to you void of any true manipulative intent. If you said no, he would cut his losses and sleep peacefully with you until it was time to return to his cabin.

But you agree with another hum. 

“Okay, Luke. Thank you.” 

Luke makes quick work of your bottoms. they’re loose and short, just like they always are, and he could get away with slipping the crotch to the side but you reach a hand to the elastic and start to pull it down. Luke contributes by sliding the fabric down the rest of the way until your bare ass is against the flannel fabric of his pants.

He does the same with his own clothing before wrapping his fist around his cock and tugging a few times. It’s dry, and despite the slick already gathered between your legs, Luke knows it won’t be enough.

“Angel?” He prompts, continuing after a moment. “I need you to do something for me.”

It takes you a second to respond and Luke fears you’ve fallen asleep. 

Eventually, you ask, “What is it?” (your words come out slurred but Luke clearly interprets them)

He holds his hand in front of your mouth, commanding, “Spit.”

You do as told.

He smears your saliva over his cock and doesn’t bother wiping his hand free of the rest before he props your leg up.

“Jus’ stay right there,” he tells you as he lines himself up with your entrance blindly. It takes a second and a couple of tries but eventually the tip of him slides in.

He goes slow, inch by inch he lets you adjust, and he gently shushes your small sounds. Little mewls and breaths that could easily pass as you having a dream, but he wants to play it as safe as possible.

Fortunately, it’s not long before he’s completely within you, and he doesn’t waste anymore time. It'll be soon enough before someone wakes up from a dream and notices he’s gone. Or even worse, before someone in your cabin hears and is forever scarred.

The possibilities motivate him.

He holds onto your hip as he thrusts up into you, his cock curving into your walls from the position, creating a friction that you’re not quite used to.

Your head turns to face him, and the light is low, but there’s just enough moonlight through the windows for him to see your eyes. For him to take notice of your heavy eyelids, almost completely incapable of holding themselves open once more.

Your eyes close every so often, and during those moments your face relaxes, as if you’ve completely fallen asleep. Then Luke puts more force behind a thrust and your eyes lazily blink open.

“Yeah? Still with me?” There’s a little humor behind his words. He can’t hide his smirk at this point, and if you weren’t on the cusp of sleep and if it weren’t so dark, you would’ve negatively commented on the look on his face. As if it didn’t rile you up.

Instead, you nod and bring your face closer, pressing a single kiss onto Luke's parted lips before you lose the motivation to do even that. You let your head fall back against your pillow, looking straight up as you let Luke pleasure you.

Your ass presses back into him a little more, your hand holds onto his forearm.

Luke slides his hand back up to your chest, rubbing his thumb into your erect nipples over the fabric of your thin tank top before he easily dips his fingers beneath the shirt and does the same once more. Skin against skin this time. 

You sigh heavily, your chin tilting a little more pointedly towards the ceiling. Luke kisses your cheek, sloppy and repeatedly, even trialing a few down to your shoulder.

“You close?”

It's barely been long, but Luke knows that like this—sleep hazed and comfortable after a long day—it won’t take much to get you to cum.

And just as he expected, you nod.

“What’d you want me to do? Hm? You can tell me, baby. Tell me what you want and I'll do it for you.” 

He’s talking a little too much at this point, the anxiety of someone finding them prickles at the back of his neck. But he doesn’t control his mouth when he’s fucking you. It’s like your cunt puts him under a spell, makes him spill out every single thought in his head before he spills up into you. 

You look over at him once more, your eyes pleading to him.

“My clit, Luke. Please.”

He nods and lets his hand find the bud, using two fingers to swirl tight circles around it. He feels you clench around him, tight enough that he has to hold himself back from cumming up into you then and there.

No matter how ethereal the moment is, he knows he can’t do that. So instead, he pushes you over the edge and pulls out just as you finish.

He’s already jerking himself to finish whenever you fumble behind you. He watches you with pinched eyebrows, attempting to decipher your intentions, and then your hand drapes over his and you stare at him, exhaustion so clear in your eyes that he can’t believe you haven’t given in yet.

You do the frenzied motions with Luke, hand over hand over cock, until he cums on your inner thigh, your leg finally closing afterwards and squishing the liquid between them.

It’s less than ideal, and you’ll have to wash your sheets and shorts in the morning, but for now you let Luke pull your shorts back up, do the same for his bottoms, and you’re asleep before he can hear his “goodnight” echo from your lips.

[vauxxy]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[hischierhoney]

OFF LIMITS

nico hischier x hughes sister!reader

part 2: I Know available now!

It’s not the first time they’ve run into you on a night out, and Nico’s pretty sure it won’t be the last. You live in New York, close enough that your paths overlap quite often. It is, however, the first time he’s seen you this drunk. On top of that, it’s the first time Nico’s run into you without your brothers with him.

Jack may be younger than you, but what he lacks in age he makes up for in overprotectiveness. When they run into you at a bar, Nico rarely gets a chance to even say a word to you before Jack is questioning how much you’ve had to drink or why you’re even out in the first place.

But Jack is in Toronto, for the All Stars game, and Luke’s still too young to be out at a bar and is also out of town, and you’re there, standing under a neon sign, leaning up against the wall. You look hazy. Out of it. There’s a guy standing nearly over you, arm next to your head on the wall. Nico’s stomach twists.

“Isn’t that Hughes’ sister?” Someone asks.

Nico nods, juts his chin at the scene unfolding. “Does she look uncomfortable to you?”

His teammate lets out a snort. “Was wondering the same thing.”

Nico keeps a watchful eye on the situation for just a moment. He doesn’t want to overstep, but something feels off. When you put your hand on the guy’s shoulder and try to push him away, and he stays put, caging you in farther, the switch flips. He’s gone from concerned friend to overprotective captain within a second. He passes his beer off to someone and makes his way across the bar in a few short steps.

“Hey man. Back off.” He snaps.

The guy turns with a glare. Nico stands his ground. Your eyes meet his, and he watches relief wash over your face. He knows then that he’s made the right choice.

“I saw her first,” the guy sneers.

Nico really didn’t want to get in a fight tonight. He was supposed to have a chill night out with the guys, maybe talk to a couple girls, get his mind off of… things. But now he’s here.

“Nico,” you say, softly, and he watches the guy’s face drop as he realizes you know Nico.

“Hi,” he says, kindly and quietly to you. He juts his chin at the guy and shoves his shoulder firmly. “Get lost.”

The man melts away into the crowd. Nico watches him go. Then he turns back to you, to where you’re leaning against the wall, doe eyed and drunk as hell as you stare up at him. His breath gets caught in his throat for just a moment- if your brothers knew the things he thought about when you looked at him like that, they’d have his head. Jack and Luke are a bit oblivious, he thinks. He’s lucky he’s not around you and Quinn at the same time very often. There was that game last year, in Vancouver- you in your Devils jersey, elbowing him lightly, and Quinn’s glare trained on him, one raised brow, like he was just waiting for Nico to take a wrong step.

“My hero,” you say, reaching out to tug on his wrist.

Your words are extremely slurred, and when he gets a closer look he realizes you’re probably close to blacking out. The light is gone from your eyes. He winces.

“Okay, schatz,” he says. He ruffles your hair just to get you to stop staring up at him through your eyelashes, afraid of the way it makes his heart jump. “Can I call someone to come get you?”

You shrug. “Where’s Jacky? Or Lukey?”

Nico groans. “Toronto, and who knows. Not here, though.”

You purse your lips. “Right.” You dig in your pocket for your phone, find it, and Nico watches you try and turn the screen on with no luck- it’s dead. “Huh. That’s not good.”

And… Nico could call one of your brothers. Could ask for some sort of phone number- a roommate or a friend or anyone. But as you stare up at him, you lean away from the wall and fall into his chest, and he knows he needs to act quickly. Preferably before you pass out at the bar.

…..

You don’t remember the walk out of the bar, or the car ride, or the elevator up to the apartment that you’re sure you must’ve taken. Your world zaps back into focus on the entryway of Nico’s apartment. You’ve been here twice- both for parties. It’s different when it’s not full of people. Feels more like Nico.

You toe your shoes off in the doorway. Nico swipes them to the side with his foot and then reaches out to catch you when you stumble. You lean into his shoulder and laugh- he smells good, like honey and whiskey. You want to breathe him in. He laughs, too- you can tell by the way his broad shoulders shake.

He leads you out of the entryway and into the kitchen. He grabs you by your hips to maneuver you, and you nearly squeal at the feeling of his fingers splayed against your body. Instead, when he moves you to lean against the counter, you sigh. You brace yourself, elbows on the granite, and stare up at him as he moves through the room.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he says in a warning tone.

“Like what?” You ask, innocently.

If he’d look at you, you’d bat your eyelashes at him. But he’s not looking, and you’re not going to waste your energy. He has his head in the fridge, an empty glass in his hand. He returns with a pitcher of water and pours it into the glass before sliding it over to you.

He never clarifies what he means by staring like that. You want to circle back to it, but you’re getting really tired, and the water is cool and refreshing. You laugh when you spill a little bit, the water running down your chin and neck. Nico just groans and rolls his eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he states, like you both didn’t already know it.

You nod. “I had a lotta tequila.”

He gives you a look of exasperation mixed with affection. “Trying to forget?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

Once you’ve finished the glass, he starts maneuvering you again, hands on your shoulders this time as he walks you down the hallway. You wonder what it would be like to have him do this all the time- maybe when you’re not drunk. Does he manhandle his girlfriends, his dates, like this? Maybe manhandle isn’t the right word. You don’t feel handled, you feel… taken care of. Like he’s making sure you’re exactly where you should be. It’s sweet. It makes you shiver just a little bit.

He mistakes the movement for a chill, and he rubs his hands up and down your shoulders. You sigh. The two of you step into the bathroom, and he digs through the drawer until he finds a new toothbrush and toothpaste, and he hands them both to you.

You stumble your way towards the bedroom five minutes later, his hands on your hips again. He pushes open the door to his bedroom and leads you to the bed, having you sit down on the edge while he heads for the dresser. You look around. You’ve been to his place, but never here. It’s… calm. Quiet. The sheets and duvet beneath you are soft, and the lamp next to the bed casts a warm glow over everything. He has trophies taking up space on his desk. The bed is unmade, blankets rumpled and messy.

“Always wondered what your room looked like,” you say.

His shoulders tense, though he shakes it out a few moments after. “Yeah?”

You nod, forgetting he isn’t looking at you, and then supplement with words. “Can learn a lot about a person from their bedroom.”

He laughs and looks over his shoulder at you. “What have you learned, then?”

You shrug and cast your eyes to the ceiling. He goes back to rifling through the drawers. You flop backwards onto the end, laughing lightly at the way it bounces beneath you.

Something lands on your stomach- a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You pick them up and hold them above your head.

“Get changed,” he says. When you lean up to look at him, the whole room spins. He sighs, like he can tell. “I’ll be back in a second, okay?”

…..

Nico nearly panics five minutes later, because he knocks on the door to ask if you’re decent and you don’t answer. He’s torn between worry about seeing something he shouldn’t, and worry about you dying- one of them trumps the other, so he shoves his way into the room frantically.

You’re laid out on the bed, swallowed up by his t-shirt, the drawstring of the shorts pulled tight around your waist. Your lips are just barely parted, soft sighs escaping with each rise and fall of your chest. You’re asleep. He could leave you, but right now you’re asleep on your back, and very drunk, and he’s worried you’re going to throw up and- they warned him about that, years ago, when he first started going to parties. Friends don’t let friends sleep on their backs.

He crawls up onto the bed and tucks you into the blankets. Then he rolls you onto your side, and sighs when you immediately try to roll back onto your back. He repeats the process, and this time you groan loudly in response. Without really thinking about it, he sits down on the bed behind you and props his leg against your back. That seems to keep you in place- you lean into the warmth but you don’t try to roll over again.

So. That’s great, except, now he’s stuck. Realistically, he was going to stay anyways. If he was the last person to see you and something awful happened, he’d never forgive himself, and neither would your brothers. So it’s fine, really, that you’re leaning against him, but… you’re warm, and breathing softly, and your hair is strewn all over the pillowcase, and god, he hates the way it all makes him blush.

He can’t do anything about it, especially not now, with the state you’re in. So he just sits and watches you sleep, the way he’s sort of always dreamed about.

Hours later, Nico’s woken from a half asleep state by a loud noise- it’s his cell phone, ringing on the nightstand. He scrambles to pick up, blinking blearily at the screen. 4:53 am, and Jack is calling him. He wouldn’t normally answer, but it’s Jack, and by now he’s probably heard about you, so he swipes to take the call.

“It’s not even 5am, Jack,” he says softly.

“Hischier.” A voice returns- it’s not Jack.

“Quinn.” He replies, carefully.

He keeps his voice low. His gaze flickers down to you. You’re asleep -on your side, thank god- one arm wrapped around his leg. He swallows tightly and carefully brushes a stray piece of hair from your face. You don’t stir.

“It’s not even 5am,” he repeats.

Quinn scoffs. “I know. Woke up to go do some early morning training, and imagine my surprise when I see about ten texts from various people telling me you took my baby sister home with you last night.”

Right. Everybody knows everybody in the NHL. Nico rolls his eyes. You’re older than both Jack and Luke- you’re not a baby. He refrains from saying that, though- knowing it’ll only upset Quinn more. He may sound relatively calm now, but Nico can sense the undercurrent of tension.

“It’s not like that,” Nico says.

“Right. And you’re just whispering for the fun of it, then? Not because you’re afraid to wake her?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “She was wasted. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her. Did they tell you about how I nearly punched a guy to get him to leave her alone?”

He hears Quinn falter whatever he was going to say next. Then he speaks up again. “Doesn’t explain why you’re close enough to her right now that you’d need to be whispering.”

“I was worried she was going to choke on her own vomit,” Nico says curtly. “So I stayed up most of the night making sure she stayed on her side.”

“Right, sure, by what- curling up with her?” Quinn sneers.

Nico slumps down against the headboard. “Jesus, Hughes. You trusted me to take care of your brothers. You said that yourself. You can’t trust me with this?”

“It’s a bit different and we both know it,” Quinn says.

Nico figures that’s fair. If it was his sister… he understands. He just wishes Quinn would give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Look, man. Nothing happened. I swear to you, I wouldn’t ever do anything to harm her, alright? We ran into her at a bar, she was wasted and by herself and trying to push some guy away and he wasn’t letting up. So I put a stop to it, and we couldn’t call any of her friends because her phone was dead. And not sure if you’ve noticed, but your brothers are out of town. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

He hears Quinn sigh. “You just happened to be there to save the day?”

Nico groans, this time a bit too loudly. You shift next to him, and suddenly you’re awake, blinking up at him with soft eyes. His heart catches in his chest. You wrinkle your nose, likely in confusion at the sight of him on the phone at 5am. He mouths your brother’s name, and your confusion only grows. You gesture for the phone.

“Quinn,” you say, sleepily. “It’s 5am. Why the fuck are you calling?”

Nico can’t hear what your brother is saying anymore- a welcome reprieve, really. You roll your eyes and he holds back a laugh. When he meets your gaze, you’re fighting a laugh, too, he thinks.

“So you called because you were checking on me, right?” You ask, blinking up at Nico. “Not to harass my friend, right? Because that would be a rude thing to do at 5am, you know.”

You’re quiet for a few more moments. Then you yawn and roll your eyes again. “Okay. Well. I’m fine. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”

You hang up on him. Nico’s torn between laughter and panic, wondering if Quinn’s going to call again. The phone stays silent in your hand, though. He takes it from you, sets it down on the nightstand carefully. Your arm wraps back around his leg, and he tries not to let it make him sigh in relief.

“Sorry about him,” you say, quietly. “He’s like a guard dog. But one of those little yappy ones.”

Nico laughs. “Ankle biter.”

You nod and laugh, too. “Why’d you even answer?”

Nico drags a hand down his face. “He called from Jack’s phone.”

“Sneaky little bitch,” you scoff.

He shrugs. “To be fair, I probably should’ve at least let someone know where you were. If I’d woken up to a message about my sister like the one Quinn probably got…” he scrubs at the hair on his jaw. “Not sure I’d have reacted differently.”

You huff- your warm breath washes over his leg. “You hockey players are a bunch of gossips, you know that?”

He grumbles at that, not even giving it a real response. He slumps down further against the headboard, eyes feeling heavy, head feeling even heavier. You pat your hand against his knee and sigh.

“You should lay down,” you mumble.

He sighs. “Yeah. If you’re feeling okay I can go to the couch. Didn’t want to leave you alone, I was scared you’d throw up.”

You stare up at him. He stares right back. Pretty eyes. God, your brothers would kill him.

“No, like, just- lay down,” you tell him, patting the bed next to you. “It’s your bed.”

His heart does a somersault. His stomach follows suit. He shouldn’t. Jack will punch him, Luke will deliver the final blow, and then Quinn will fly down from Canada to stomp on his grave. But he’s exhausted, and the bed is comfy, and you… you’re there, like he’s always dreamed. He won’t touch you. He’ll just lay down right next to you, barely under the blankets, plenty of space between the two of you in his big bed. It’ll be fine.

…..

You wake up hours later with a raging headache and your head against Nico’s chest. You nearly panic until you remember who he is. Then you worry he’ll think it’s weird, having you pressed against him like this, but you realize his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. He’s strong. You know that, but it’s different to feel it for yourself, the way the thick muscle presses against your back. His cheek is resting on top of your head, too, and he’s just barely snoring, soft sounds through his lips.

You’d stay right there forever if your head didn’t hurt so bad.

When you try to wiggle free, he holds on tighter, groaning softly. You try to pry his arm off your waist and he grunts this time. When he finally wakes up enough to be somewhat coherent, he doesn’t let go.

“Whatimesit?” He asks groggily, lips brushing against your forehead.

“Dunno,” you admit. “Head hurts. S’there ibuprofen in your cupboard?”

He groans softly and then peels his arm away. Before you can make a move, he rolls out of bed and stumbles towards the bathroom. You watch him go and try to pretend you don’t shiver at the roll of his back muscles beneath his t-shirt. He comes back with a glass of water and pills in his hands.

You fight a laugh at the sight of him, sleep rumpled and groggy, brows furrowed tightly. You push yourself up to sit up, leaning on your left hand and rubbing your eyes sleepily with your right. He hands over the water and the pills. You take them eagerly.

You blink up at him after you down the whole glass and cock your head. “Did I dream that Quinn called?”

Nico snorts and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Nope. That was real life.”

You roll your eyes. “Overprotective asshole.”

Nico laughs at that, eyes slipping closed. “Like I said. If I were him, I’d have had the same reaction.”

You let yourself fall back down to the bed. “Right, like you’d ever…” you cut yourself off with a laugh. “I mean, he and Jack and Luke are always so worried about teammates being into me or something. It’s ridiculous.”

Nico laughs, but it sounds hollow. You lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling. You’re already planning how you’re going to chew Quinn out for this one.

“I don’t blame him,” Nico says, quieter this time. “Just wish he wouldn’t have called so early.”

You close your eyes. “He’s annoying. Why’s he worried? Like… none of you guys have ever shown any interest in me, so. ”

Your lack of dating hockey players is not for lack of trying. There’d been Quinn’s teammates in college, and Jack’s from the other teams, too. You’ve had crushes that you’ve eventually let fizzle out after getting nothing in return. Nico’s the only crush that’s stuck around this long. Because despite the fact that you can barely even call him your friend, sometimes he pulls shit like this- taking you back to his place and staying up late to take care of you, fielding phone calls from your protective older brother. Nico’s a giant human teddy bear. You think at this point it’s gone beyond a crush.

“Why d’you think that is?” Nico asks, breaking you from your train of thought.

“Why do I think what is?” You reply.

You swear you feel his hand brush against your wrist.

“That none of us ever show any interest?” He says.

He’s quiet. Quieter, at least. More tentative. Softer. You pry one eye open and look up at him, and you swear he’s blushing. Hm.

“Because…you’re not- nobody’s interested?” You say, softer than even him.

He tilts his head. Your mouth feels dry.

“You remember the first Devils game you came to?” He asks. You nod, and he continues. “Before the game, in the locker room, Jack mentioned his sister was going to be there, and, well, you know how hockey players are. Couple people made comments about wanting to meet you, asked if you’d be at the afterparty. Jack made it pretty clear you were off limits. And, you know. Guys do that shit all the time, get overprotective over their sisters, and it’s never been, you know, an issue. Half the time I don’t even meet the guys’ family, you know?”

He trails off and scrubs his hand through his hair. You watch him closely.

“But that night, after the game, I was leaving and I saw… this girl. This beautiful girl. And she was wearing a Hughes jersey, and I was…” he laughs and closes his eyes. “I was coming up with all these stupid pick up lines, about how I was better than him, and I was walking towards her, and I swear I looked away for a second and then Jack was there. Hugging you, and glaring at me over your shoulder. I got the message.”

You reach up and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I hate my brothers.”

Nico laughs. “In Luke’s defense…”

“Don’t defend any of them, Luke’s the worst of them, he’s just quiet about it,” you scoff. “He chased my college boyfriend out of my dorm with a hockey stick.”

Nico laughs. You laugh, too, but you shake your head. He nudges his knee against yours. When his thumb brushes against your wrist this time, you open your eyes. That blush is there, soft and rosy on his cheeks.

“So you get it, then,” he says, head tilted as he blinks down at you. His hair is falling over his forehead messily. “Why I’ve never made a move.”

You’re so busy trying to process all the information of the day that you almost miss it. Why I’ve never made a move. It could’ve been a fleeting moment, just a quick crush when he saw you the first time, but something about this tells you it’s not. He presses his thumb to your pulse point on your wrist, and the warmth of his hand on your skin makes you shiver slightly. You stare up at him and chew on your lower lip.

“I think you should ask me about my limits,” you say, quietly. “They’re a lot different than my brothers’, you know.”

The grin on Nico’s face grows wider. “S’that so?”

You nod eagerly. He lets out a low, slow breath, like he’s bracing for impact. Something in your chest aches. He plants a hand next to your head and leans towards you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“What’re your limits on kissing hockey players?” He asks. His other hand comes up and cups the side of your face. He brushes his thumb against your Cupid’s bow. “Y’know. If the opportunity were to come up.”

You shrug. “Would depend on the player, I suppose.”

He nods in understanding, pursing his lips. “How about… hm. 6’1”, brown hair, brown eyes. Team captain. Nice guy, I guess. Would definitely make sure you got home safe from the bar.”

You reach up and draw a hesitant line on his jaw with your fingertip. “Team captain, huh? I do like a man in charge.”

He nods. You nod back. For a moment, the two of you sit in limbo.

In the end, you’re the one to wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up to kiss him. When you do, though, he responds eagerly. He cages you in with both arms, and as you melt for him, he does the same for you. It’s a sweet kiss, one full of hope and excitement. You’re surrounded by him, by his arms and his touch and the smell of him on the sheets. You’ve never been more happy you ran into him at a bar than in that very moment.

…..

You’re back in that same bar from weeks ago, standing under the very same neon light. Except this time, there’s no guy hovering over you, and this time, you and Nico both know the other is going to be there. He’s at the bar, pretending he’s just noticed you, smiling and waving as he orders. You shake your empty cup at him, and he nods.

He wanders over a few minutes later, drinks in hand. He leans against the wall next to you and hands you the cup. The neon light glows bright on his dark hair. You sip your drink and smile up at him. Politely. Friendly. Nothing more. He’s a polite, friendly distance away. There’s space between the two of you.

“If we’re gonna make this believable, you’re going to have to come say hello to the rest of the team,” he says.

You nod. “In a minute.”

Across the bar, one of his teammates is yelling about a game on the screen. For now, you want just a minute with Nico. A moment for just the two of you. One where he’s not your brothers’ team captain, but your boyfriend instead.

The word feels new in your brain, would feel even newer on your lips if you said it. So far, you’ve only tried it out a couple times- when he asked the question, and then after that in the bathroom mirror, a wide grin on your face. You haven’t told anyone else. Nico’s worried about Jack and Luke’s reactions, and the season’s almost done- he wants to wait to tell them afterwards, when the results of a game won’t rest so heavily on how they take the news. It’s been a lot of staying in dates, movie nights at home on his couch, which both of you are partial to anyways. And lots of this, too- seemingly chance meetings at local bars, quick texts from him telling you where he’s headed with his friends and you showing up, purely coincidental to anyone other than him.

Eventually, you follow him through the crowd of people to a secluded corner full of hockey players. You spot your brothers, blissfully unaware, nursing matching beers. Just before everyone catches sight of the two of you, Nico sneaks a hand back and squeezes yours. You smile brightly.

“Look who I found!” Nico calls out.

He moves his grip on your hand to your wrist, raises your arm like you’ve won a fight. You laugh and shake your arm free of his hold. You’re met with cheers from the team, loudest of all from your brothers. You can wait to tell them. For now, the way he smiles at you is more than enough.

…..

“Should we just tell them we know they’re… a thing?” Luke asks.

Jack shakes his head, watching you and Nico. “Nah. Let ‘em sweat. She’ll slip up eventually, or he’ll start to freak out.” He sees Nico reach to grab your hip, then pull back at the last second like he’s been burned. A mix of disgust and amusement passes through him- you’re his sister, after all. “Jesus, dunno why they think they’re fooling anyone.”

Jack’s known since the day he got back and saw you at lunch. You’d been overly happy but basically refused to talk about your impromptu stay at Nico’s. Then, he’d seen Nico at practice, and he’d been much the same. By the time the team had gone out to a bar and you mysteriously happened to show up, he’d had his suspicions and had relayed them to Luke. They’d watched you and Nico leave the bar together one night when you thought nobody was looking.

Luke laughs. “Okay, but, when do we tell Quinn?”

Jack turns to him with wide eyes. “We don’t! D’you want our captain to die?”

Luke directs his gaze back towards you and the aforementioned captain. Jack follows suit and tries not to roll his eyes. The two of you aren’t touching, but the smiles on your faces say it all.

“I mean,” Luke starts quietly. “They’re kind of cute. And we want them to be happy, right?”

“Don’t even start,” Jack says firmly.

He’ll let it go for now, in the interest of finishing out the season on a good note. But after that, all bets are off. Definitely. Probably. Jack’s the one who set the rules, who declared you off limits, and he’ll stick to his word.

No matter how much the two of you together are starting to grow on him.

Part 2: I Know

if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! i hope you’ve enjoyed

[sunkissed-zegras]

shower sex with luke hughes help

✮ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, lh⁴³

♡ ─ word count | 1k

♡ ─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! unedited (no one is surprised) unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it kids), p in v action, pretty vanilla lol, jack being a cockblock HA

♡ ─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

♡ ─ ev's notes | i haven't written a full blown smut in a while i hope i'm still good at it LMAO, hope y'all will enjoy!!! also requests are open so PLEASE SEND THEM IN! ya girl is trying to get out of a really bad writing rut rn :((

The warm water was rolling down the curves of your body as you relaxed, feeling all the stress from the week running down the drain with the water. Your fingers worked themselves into your scalp as you washed your hair with your coconut scented shampoo, washing it thoroughly.

You were too engrossed with washing your hair, you didn't hear the bathroom door open and close swiftly. You heard the glass bathroom door open and quickly turned around to face your boyfriend, who had invited himself into the shower.

"Hey," Luke spoke casually as his racked down your body, not even trying to hide his smirk. His eyes took in every curve of your body, feeling his face warm up in the process. "How was your day?"

You laughed at how casual he was acting, despite being in the shower. But you didn't really care, you had missed him. "Busy. How was yours?"

"Stressful?"

You nodded, sighing.

"Maybe I can help with that?" He answered smoothly, the smirk evident in his expression as you laughed. He looked down at you, his eyes focusing on you and your body. Despite your bashful expression, you couldn't help but feel your stomach twist in desire as you gazed up at your boyfriend.

It had been a while since you two had sex with your busy schedules, the only downside to being adults. And you weren't busy, Jack was always around being a cockblock, which both of you hated.

"I'd love that," you answered, breathlessly as he smirked down at you. He instantly leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, taking your face in his hand. The kiss was gentle but very needy but it escalated into a sloppy make-out session as the water dripped down both your bodies.

Luke's hands wandered further down, clasping your neck in an attempt to bring you closer. You let out a moan into the kiss as he pushed you against the tile, taking control of the kiss.

"Been thinking about you all day, Y/N." Luke's lips traveled down to your chin and then to your neck, planting harsh kisses everywhere. Your eyes shut in pleasure, as you let him touch you. "Couldn't focus because of you, princess. All 'cus of you."

Your mind had turned into mush the moment he started sucking on your sensitive spot on your neck, a nasty moan coming out of your mouth. All you could think of was Luke, Luke, Luke.

His hands then grabbed your hips, pushing them closer to his. Your arms naturally crossed around his shoulders as he came up to give you a rough kiss, his hands bruising on your hips.

The water was still running as he pulled your legs up, crossing at his hips. "I missed you so much, baby."

"Missed you too." You responded breathlessly as he pulled you into another kiss. One of his hands travelled down to your soaking cunt, his fingers teasing.

Your back arched against the tile as he kept touching your cunt, but careful not to enter. He was teasing and both of you knew it, you hated it. "Fuck Luke, come on."

"What? I wanna take my time with you baby, is that such a crime?" He spoke and you could feel his smirk against your neck as he kept playing with cunt.

You whined as he kept leaving teasing touches on your cunt before he finally entered one long, slim finger in you. Your whole body jolted at that, clenching around his finger. He kept it there for a few seconds before he began thrusting it in and out, slowly.

"Luke, please." You whined, his pace was slow and excruciating, you hated it.

"Please what?"

You hated when he did this, but you knew it made the O better. "Just fuck me, Luke."

He let out a laugh before he stopped completely, taking his finger out of your sticky core. Before you could complain, you felt him push in his tip inside your cunt slowly. Your back arched in response, your head falling back on tile from the pleasure. He was only a quarter in and you felt so full, he was so big.

He stretched you out so well, you felt like your head was in the clouds. As he bottomed you out, you felt like your whole body was on fire. You loved how well he filled you up, it was like he was made for you.

Your arms hung off Luke's shoulders as his hands were still holding on to your hips as he began thrusting in and out of you, slowly at first. But you knew that pace wouldn't last. Before you knew it, Luke was fucking you into the wall as you held onto to his shoulders for dear life.

"Luke!" you cried out as he kept his pace brutal and quick, just like you liked. His head fell on your forehead as he kept pounding into you, your whole body shaking with each thrust.

You felt the familiar burning sensation in your lower stomach as he kept his pace and you knew you were close. Your walls clenched around Luke's cock, he moaned at that. You were so tight and so warm, he loved how you felt.

He moved one hand from your hip and went down to your clit, rubbing the nub as he kept fucking into you. Both sensations made you cry out in utter pleasure, your whole body began twitching. The knot was getting tighter and tighter and finally, it snapped. Your moan echoed throughout the bathroom, your vision blurring momentarily as Luke chased his own high. His hips snapped against yours roughly, fucking you through your orgasm.

And before you knew it, he was spilling his seed into you. You both breathed heavily, trying to regain your composure after that. But before neither of you could say anything, you heard some knocking on the door.

"Could you guys fuck quieter please, I'm trying to take a nap." Jack's voice was muffled on the other side of the door as he spoke. Luke immediately let out an agitated sigh.

"Jesus Christ." Luke mumbled before he continued, "Whatever dude, go back to sleep."

"Are you guys using protection or am I gonna be an uncle soon?" Jack teased before you and Luke let out annoyed groans.

"Go back to bed!" You both shouted in union.

-> 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 ♡

[indecisivemuch]

~ Titles ~

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You are determined to steal the title of best swordsman from Luke. You proposed a spar, which led to unsuspecting confessions and an alternate proposal/offer. (fluff, pining, playful rivals to lovers, happy ending)

Warning: some sexual innuendos but nothing explicit. Violence? (you two sparred).

Note: he’s like one of my only age appropriate crush if I’m honest LMAO. The others are all much older 😭

Word count: 4k

You wanted many things. You wanted glory, you wanted to have the highest winning streak to capture the flag, and you also wanted Luke’s head on a stick…sometimes. 

Oh yes, Luke has heard it all from your pretty mouth, and it does not get less amusing every time. In fact, the whole camp seemed to enjoy the banters between the two of you. At one point, it escalated to bets among campers on whether you or Luke would win against one another in things. Initially, both of you were shocked at the discovery. But when the surprise wore off, both of your competitiveness only amplified. Capture the flag became your guys’ war zone, and even silly things like who could finish chores quicker was a competition.

However, despite the rivalry being kind of playful, there was one thing you swore your heart upon winning - Luke’s title.

“Ah, well, if it isn’t the best swordsman,” you greeted as you spotted him approaching.

“If it isn’t the best flag captor,” indeed, you were always assigned to snag the flag due to your combat skills.

“And soon to be the best swordsman,” you added.

“You keep saying that but haven’t even gotten close.”

“I’m literally the second best.” The second those words left your mouth, you wished they didn’t. From the number of years you’ve known Luke, you could very well predict what he was going to say next, and because of that, you realized you just walked straight into his trap. You glanced up at the boy, only to see him already cheekily peering down at you with twinkles in his eyes - the sweet look of victory casting over his face.

“Ah, yes…second best,” the smugness interlacing Luke’s otherwise swoon-worthy voice made you scoff.

You never actually hate Luke, but neither were you two friends who hung out. You both were in different friend groups, rarely in the same space without making a quick remark or two, though they were all interlaced with a humorous undertone. There was a thin line between rivals and somewhat friends that you both mingled on without crossing. You would never tell him or admit it out loud, but Luke played a huge part in shaping who you are today as a Demigod. He constantly challenged you, which pushed you to take steps to become better. Over time, you two even slipped into a routine. You were each other’s sparring partners and, strangely enough, each other’s choice when it comes to quest partners.

You remember the first time Luke did it. Three years ago, you used to believe that he genuinely hated your guts and loved making fun of you for his own amusement. So when Chiron asked Luke to pick two companions for his quest, he named you without an ounce of doubt in his voice. You almost had a whiplash looking over at the boy who just called out your name.

“Not for long,” you settled on replying after rolling your eyes.

When you glanced back at him, Luke was giving you the look. The one where his lips were sculpted in a challenging and somewhat arrogant smirk, contrasting with the soft gaze that would always pair with it. It was as if he wanted you to know that despite his annoying habit of riling you up, he’d never cross any line that you would not let him, and he’d never push any buttons that you’d say were off limits. It was charming and sweet in a sense, though your mind dismissed that belief every single time and blamed it on your heart for being delusional. However, boy oh boy, your body reacted to it like Zeus has personally struck you with thunder every single time. Your lungs would collapse and malfunction for a second; your eyes would hold still and at him as if turned to stone by Medusa; your tongue seemed to have been frozen; your voice as if taken by Ursula. But amidst that mess, your heart would be beautifully embracing this feeling that it was harboring. It was something you never acknowledged or wanted to label because you knew it would be put into the universe as soon as you did that.

“I have a proposal,” you said, after forcing yourself out of that flustered state. 

“I’m listening,” Luke crossed his arms, and you almost gulped at how they bulked up when he did so.

“We spar. If I win, I get the title of best swordsman. You win, you can get anything you want,” you named the terms.

“Anything?” Luke asked, tilting his head with amusement twinkling in his eyes as you confirmed by nodding. “Ok, deal,” he drew a hand out, prompting you to shake it, which you mindlessly did. Little did you know, Luke did it on purpose as an excuse to hold your hand, even if it was for only a split second. 

It was sort of pathetic, and Luke knew it. But there was nothing else he could do. The only way he could ever touch you was either small actions like handshakes or getting punched by you. The latter happened more frequently as the two of you sparred together more. The both of you didn’t make a habit of hurting each other, but it was bound to happen when practicing combat. 

As toxic and insane as it sounded, Luke was somewhat addicted to the infrequent pain that you were inflicting on him. One, because he got to feel your touch, albeit it was aggressive. Two, the worried look on your face - the closest he thought he would feel to you caring about him as much as he cared about you. Three, waking up the next day with purple bruises left by you, which, to him, was the only substitute for the type of purple marks he wanted you to leave on him.

“Alright, let’s do this,” you retracted your hand and got into position.

“Don’t you wanna know what I’d get if I win?” something in Luke’s eyes told you that whatever he had in mind was pure trouble, and he knew you had this urge to know everything. So you purposefully ignored asking about it.

“I don’t need to know, ‘cause that won’t happen anyway,” as you turned away, Luke let out a chuckle as his eyes softened at the sight of you. He knew that you know of the fact that he knows you well. Years of bantering and shy glances over your way when you weren’t aware has also taught him many things about you. Like how you prefer tabbing over highlighting your books, or how you’d always strike on the side first when combating others but would always change it up when it comes to him, or that your smile slightly tilted to the right when you are genuinely happy, or the fact that your love language was act of service because you were always going out of your way for the people you love.

At a far enough distance, you finally turned back at Luke but was caught off guard when you saw his sword already swinging at you. Years of practice forced your reflexes into action, and you caught his sword midair with your own.

“Woah, we never agreed that it started,” you yelled, pushing him and his sword away from you and yours.

“Do monsters wait for you to be ready during quests, sweetheart?” The mocking tone should not be affecting you the way it did, but it elicited this feeling of sheer annoyance and unleashed a hunger for victory. Luke got into a fighting stance as well, “Well then, ready whenever you are.”

You practically swung at him, and your swords clashed at an alarming rate to outsiders. But you two were experts at swordsmanship. Every move was quick and with ease. However, as Luke predicted, your eagerness to win was eroding your strategic senses. Taking advantage of this, he was planning to strike your armor next, aiming to create a mark on it. But you unexpectedly dodged down, and he was not prepared enough to change his course of action. 

Within seconds of a gasp escaping your lips, Luke halted still as his jaw dropped in horror upon realizing what he had done. He called out your name, trying to come nearer to inspect the consequences of his action.

Thunder started sounding as the gray clouds finally cast water upon you two. You traced your hand along the mark that was left on your cheek, eying the blood that was now on your finger. As raindrops landed on your hand and diluted the substance, you realized your attacks in the last five minutes have been too impulsive and you needed to keep your emotions at bay.

“Y/N?” Luke called out again, though it reeked a new level of worry this time. Luke was afraid he had crossed a line. Despite sparring many times in the past, Luke had never caused harm to your face before. In fact, he has always been careful to minimize the injuries he would inflict on you.

Luke held back the urge to rub his hand over where his heart would be to soothe it as his mind wandered off to the possibility of you hating him genuinely and never wanting him around again. He never told you, but the reason he trained so hard to become the best swordsman - apart from for glory - was for you. He knew you were also good at it and hoped the title would make you notice him. 

You averted your attention back to him and drew your sword up again. 

“What? You’re scared you won’t be the only one who looks good with a scar on their face anymore?” you asked, arching your eyebrow.

“Oh, so you think I look good with the scar?” Luke bantered back, though you could tell there was an immense relief that he was feeling. Taking advantage of his distracted state, you struck again, but he managed to dodge just in time.

The fight went on for another twenty minutes. You were too focused to see, but Luke was surprised by how you chose to attack him this time. However, you miscalculated Luke’s next move and had to abruptly try to dodge his attack. But by taking a step back, you gave him the perfect chance to strike. Within seconds, he managed to disarm and send you to the ground. 

Like the last thousands of spars, the tip of his sword ended up near your throat as an indication of checkmate. You knew you could make no more moves - definitely not without your sword. You lifted both hands up slightly in a motion of surrender, biting the inside of your cheeks as you peered up at him. 

Right now, sweat and rain were dripping down the side of Luke’s face. They rolled down his scar - that goddamn scar that never failed to make you go borderline feral with visions of the kisses you’d bless them with if you were given the chance to. His dark, wet curls were clinging onto his forehead, and the same colored eyes gazed down at you. They were so cocky, almost condescending, yet so hot it made you want them to be kept on you forever. 

You hated to admit it, but he looked so hot fighting you were willing to purposefully lose sometimes.

Little did you know, it drove him to the wall that you were peering up at him like this: cheeks flushed, heavy breath, and those goddamn eyes peering through your pretty lashes that could convince him to do absolutely everything you’d ask. The sight of you made Luke want to spill his guts and tell you everything he had been locking up inside his mind.

He extended one hand out to help you up. Like always, you accepted his offer and got up from the ground.

As you were about to let go of Luke’s hand, he slightly tightened his grip, and your heart fluttered at the action. He was staring at your guys’ hands in deep thought before softly rubbing his thumb across your fingers and knuckles. The way Luke delicately did so vastly contrasted with how he was fighting you during every spar. For a second, you wondered what it would be like to be loved by him and be held so tenderly.

“It’s okay, you know…” Luke spoke, breaking the peace from the sound of rain hitting the soil beneath them.

“What? Be defeated?”

“You may be the second-best swordsman in this camp-”

“Geez, thanks for reminding me that I’m only second best,” you playfully commented.

“But you’re first place...in here.” Luke pointed right at his heart using the hand that was not on yours. You stare at it with your mouth slightly agape.

“Stop playing around with me,” you almost stuttered, refusing to believe Luke was not trying to fool you for a quick laugh.

“I’m not,” Luke rebutted and pulled your hand towards his chest, causing your heart to flutter at the action. But unlike that small kick in your heart, when your palm lay between Luke’s hand and his heart, you could hear his heart beating like an engine that had lost control. Your jaw fell agape at the contact and the speed of his heartbeat. When you looked up at him, the earnest look on Luke’s face made you know that whatever he was planning to say was indeed from his whole heart.

“Third week at camp, I got knocked down by this much older kid during capture the flag, who wanted to maim me for some reason. You swept in, pushed him into the lake nearby and pulled me to run away with you before that kid could get out of the water and chase after us. It felt like I was lovestruck or something, but I could not keep my eyes off you after that. Somehow, you always draw my attention in any crowded room,” Luke blushed at his confession, shyly avoiding eye contact with you. “But after that, I think you sort of forgot who I was because you weren’t acknowledging me at all, and so the fifteen-year-old me thought maybe I needed to throw sarcastic remarks or say stupid things to make sure that my crush would remember me and know that I exist. Hence-”

“The banters,” you finished off for him. 

“And the rivalry. It’s pathetic, I know,” Luke added.

You were in awe of viewing things from Luke’s perspective. Because from your side, you did remember that day very vividly. The reality was you were too nervous to interact with the boy again after the incident, growing shy at the thought of talking to a cute boy. So you pretended that nothing had happened.

“Fast forward to when I returned from that quest that gave me the dragon scar. People weren’t exactly different, but I could feel that they were somewhat tiptoeing around me as if I was…damaged,” Luke’s eyes hollowed for a second, and you could see that he was being sucked back into the memories. But his absent state of mind didn’t last long, and his eyes lit up again as the boy continued, “But you were the one thing that did not change. You didn’t treat me any differently. Your remarks and blunt insults became fresh air for me. I never told you, but every time we interacted back then - every time you talked to me, insulted me, or even looked at me, it felt like…I could finally breathe in that suffocating time period. Seeing you suddenly became necessary, and I think that was when I realized…”

With your hand on Luke’s chest still, you could feel his heart start beating even faster, if that was possible, as if trying to break free from his ribcage. 

“I think that was when I realized I was in love with you,” Luke’s words came out as a whisper, like an oath too sacred to be said out loud. That is not to say he wasn’t afraid to shout it out from a rooftop. Luke just wanted his first time saying it to be for your ears only. For every single time after, Luke would make sure that his words and actions were heard loud and clear to you and others, if you would let him.

You almost could not believe your own ears. For the first time ever, you saw Luke look so vulnerable. He was usually so sure of himself, almost always overly confident whenever he was around you, just to irritate you with an inflated ego persona. But right now, it felt like the curtains were closing, and nothing was left but him with his heart in hand.

This was who Luke Castellan really was - under all the armor and titles.

And he was in love with you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but words froze. You weren���t sure what to say because you believe that whatever it is you utter out wouldn’t be able to top Luke’s words. You frowned as the sparks in Luke’s eyes dulled slowly. You could feel his hand keeping yours on his chest slipping slightly. At this, you flipped your hand around to hold his in place.

“Eleven months after you arrived at camp that I…” you paused, gulping as you tried to find the words, “This boy, he tore my favorite book apart because I defeated him during a spar and “embarrassed him” in front of everybody. He’s an absolute coward, too, because he brought his buddies along, knowing he would have never won one-on-one against me. So, he had his friends hold me still as he punched me in the face and stomach repeatedly.” Luke’s eyebrows furrowed at the story. Of course, he remembered the incident. He only wished he had been there when it happened rather than in the aftermath.

“You found me bloody and bruised while I was heading to the infirmary. I was convinced you hated me back then because of all the sarcastic remarks I thought were genuine insults. So I thought you would just ignore me. But no, you stopped me. For the first time ever, I saw who you seem to really be: this caring and protective person. You were stubborn and determined to know what happened, even though I said it was not a big deal. Then you wrapped up my wounds in the infirmary wordlessly and would not leave my side until you walked me back to my cabin, where I finally told you who was behind it all.”

“Then, the next day, I found a new copy of my favorite book, candy, and new book tabs on my bedside. Later that day, I found out that his whole friend group, including him, had their hair dyed bright pink with dozens of bruises and cuts on them, and they could not even look at me. And I just knew it was you who had done all this for me, which changed how I see you - and us.”

“Is that why you left me your dessert for a month straight? After I lost dessert privileges for maiming those guys?” Luke asked.

“I did no such thing,” you tried to lie. Indeed, you were the mysterious person who left desserts next to Luke’s bed for the month after the incident. Even though you never told him, he knew it was you, and the look he was giving you right now conveyed he very well did not believe your denial.

“What I’m trying to say, Luke Castellan…is I think my heart might be a little too fond of you as well,” Luke’s jaw dropped slightly at your words. His heart almost spiked completely, losing a beat as if you caused him to flatline from bliss. Then, something glossed over his eyes, and you fully recognized it. The glint of mischief always presented itself before he said something cheeky to you. 

“You know, I think I’ll cash in my prize now. I did win after all,” Luke referred to your original spar deal. You huffed at his words and the cheeky grin he was offering you.

“Ah, right. So, what is it that you want?” Luke untangled his hand from yours and used both to cup your face slowly but surely. 

“Hmm, you did say “anything”,” Luke muttered as he glanced down at your lips, which made you subconsciously licked them. However, your action made him let out a quivering breath. Even though it was somewhat dark, you could still see that his eyes were dilated. You were pretty sure yours were as well. 

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” Luke was holding your face like it was the world that he had in his palms.  

“Yes,” you answered almost without hesitation, and he smiled at that. “Kiss me, Castellan,” you tugged Luke’s shirt, pulling him towards you, and almost immediately, he clashed his lips against yours.

Years of yearning were unleashed as you two practically melted in each other’s hold. The rain only added passion to the kiss, like fuel to the fire. Luke lightly backed you against a tree with one hand at the back of your head, shielding it from hitting the tree trunk too hard. Slowly, his other hand trailed down from your cheek to your hips. There were so many words he was seemingly trying to convey to you through his kiss. It was as if he was making a promise upon the love he intended to deliver to you. 

One of your hands tangled in Luke’s curls, twirling them around your fingers like it was their intended purpose to exist for. The other was on his cheek, your fingers subconsciously rubbing over his scar ever so delicately, as if they were gold to be treasured rather than a blemish to be ashamed of. Luke faintly shivered at your action, growing ever so breathless at the way you touched him, wanting to scowl at himself for being affected in such a way. 

Luke pulled away first, and you could not help but grin at the sight of him: swollen plump lips, messy dark hair, and a hue of pink dancing across his face. He cupped your face with both his hands again before leaving a small kiss on your cheek near where he had split your skin and drew blood. 

“This doesn’t change anything, you know? It may not be today, but someday, I will get the title of best swordsman if it is the last thing I do. Me losing today does not mean I’m giving up,” you said, hands still playing with his hair lovingly despite the stubborn declaration.

“I would not expect any less,” Luke replied, though wanting to add ‘if anybody were to take this honorable title, I’d want it to be you,’ yet he did not utter his thoughts. You breathed out a chuckle at his words.

“And yeah, maybe someday you will get that title,” Luke paused, taking a deep breath. You could feel how his chest seemed to stutter as his cheek heated up. 

“But for now, will you settle with the title of being mine?” you almost swooned at his words and the smile that he was giving you. If only you knew, he would give you all the titles you want: best swordsman, best counselor, his, and - if someday you would ever want it - his last name, as crazy as it sounded. Hell, maybe he’d take yours. 

“Yes, only if you’d also have the title of being mine.”

“I’ll wear it with honor and never surrender it unless you ever deemed me unworthy of the title,” Luke replied, grinning down at you like he had no intentions of ever letting you go.

“Never,” you grinned up at him, hands cupping his face before drawing him into another kiss, sealing the deal of forevermore.

———————————

masterlist

Join my Luke Castellan tag list

[reiderwriter]

🗝 Don't Back Down 🗝

Pairing: Unit Chief! Sub Spencer Reid x dom! BAU Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 24

Requested: Hello!! You are an excellent writer, and I hope you don’t mind a random request. :)!Basically, Spencer breaks protocol and endangers himself - runs after an unsub without backup, takes off his vest, etc. whatever it is - the reader is either there or finds out and is PISSED. She’s obviously not above him in the BAU, so she can’t punish him at work, but she can punish him in bed through toys/edging.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, brief mentions of details, minor gunshot wound, sex toys, punishment, BDSM themes, male sub Spencer, cock ring, dildo, masturbation (f), squirting, overstimulation (male), multiple orgasms, begging, messy sex, slight cum play, implied oral sex (f), boss/ subordinate relationship, partial established relationship, FWB dynamic. Implied switch x switch.

A/N: Hello! I really loved writing Unit Chief Spencer for my first Kink Bingo fic, so I've decided to bring him back a second time, and I'll be rounding out the challenge with a third part in the Unit Chief saga in July! You don't have to have read the first part, but if you want to, you can find it here~♡ I'm still enjoying the challenge of interpreting all the bingo challenges and this marks my very first bingo line! Let's see if I can get a full board!!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

His tenure as Unit Chief may have been temporary and wholly unwanted, but you admired Spencer's commitment to actually taking care of every member of the team he was left in charge of. 

He'd supported JJ in interviews, actually taking care of the press very effectively, and made sure Garcia was calm and stable. Hell, he'd even made Rossi feel better about his work on cases. And for you - well, he'd taught you to shoot straight. That and more. 

He'd held you in the middle of the night on the tougher cases, letting you sob into his bare chest the day you'd first killed an unsub. He'd distracted you from cases with his tongue, and his fingers and his dick, he'd given you pleasure where the job gave only pain and stress, and you loved him. 

You loved him, even if he was going to get himself killed. 

At first, it had been pulling Luke out of the way of a moving vehicle, being almost mowed down himself when on a case. Then he'd walked into a scene without his gun and had actually taken off his vest in exchange for JJ and Tara being able to back away to safety. He'd closed a door between him and Rossi and an active bomb that had only just been deactivated in time, and more recently, he'd taken two bullets for you. 

It was like he wanted to die. 

Th bullets, of course, had hit his vest, but a third had scraped his shoulder, and the cry out of pain had you nearly hysterical. Luke had taken down the unsub immediately, but you were a flood of tears already, panicking and having and dropping to your knees as you shook, the anxiety of almost losing him flooding your body with adrenaline. 

After all that, he was still the one comforting you. 

“Y/N. Y/N, shhh, it's okay, I'm here. I'm okay. Don't cry were both safe, I saved you. We're safe.” 

You pounded at his chest, but with the others surrounding you, there was nothing to do but stand and pull yourself together, even if you wanted to rage at him and tell and scream. 

He gave out orders and was escorted away to an ambulance, and you wiped your tears and got to work. You'd fucked Spencer, sure, you had been fucking him for months now, but it wasn't a relationship. It certainly wasn't anything your coworkers knew about, and you knew they'd have words if they did know. 

So you wiped your tears, and you put your head down and finished up your work. Then you made your way back to the jet, back to your home, back to your bed, and waited for him to make an appearance. 

You weren't in a relationship, but you knew he'd come. You heard his keys in your door, rolling your eyes at how naive you'd been handing it over - in case of emergencies, really, he had Luke and Penelope’s spare keys as well because they lived alone, it'd be safer. 

You sat up in your bed and waited for him to come in, scoffing when he knocked on your bedroom door.

“Was there a point to that, Spencer?” You asked, calling him in. 

He looked dishevelled, slightly worse for ware, but god did he look good. He wore a new shirt, a bullet hole ripped in the last one, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The top buttons were undone, and he discarded his jacket on your chair before stepping closer. 

“Y/N…” his voice was so tired you almost forgot how angry you were. Almost. 

“No. Don't come to me like that after you pulled that stupid shit today, Spencer.” 

“He was going to shoot you-” 

“He was going to miss. You're taller than me. And if I'd stayed where I was, I would have fired off a round before he could even get one shot in. But you pushed me out of the way and almost got yourself killed instead.”

He stood with his hands on his hips in front of the bed, a scowl on his face as he struggled with words to find next. 

“I won't apologize for saving your life.”

“No, you won't because you didn't save my life. You almost ended yours.”

“Y/N-” 

You knelt on the bed now and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him to his knees. 

“No. I'm done listening, and you're done talking. If you're not going to stop walking into near death experiences, you don't get to walk in here and fuck me.”

He sank to his knees easily, his eyes wide as you sat up on the bed in front of him. You thought of leaving him there the entire night, of kicking him out into the living room to sleep on the couch. If you hadn't been through so much that day, you'd just send him home. 

But sat there on his knees, you saw a flash of desire in his eyes, big and round and needy. 

His gaze flicked to your core, and you suddenly entertained different ways to punish him, to train him out of destructive behaviour. 

“Handcuffs,” you said, holding out your hands for them. He passed them up, and you left the bed, restraining his hands behind his back quickly and grabbing two items from your draws. 

You moved to the bed and knelt again as he looked at you with dark eyes, suddenly aware of what was happening to him. 

“Y/N-” 

“I didn't say you could speak,” you said as you quickly peeled off your nightdress, leaving yourself bare on the bed. 

Usually, you'd feel embarrassed being naked. Even when he undressed you, you felt the urge to cover your tits, to squeeze your legs shut so he couldn't see all of you, to let him pry your hands away, to coax your legs apart. 

Now, you sat confidently, spine straightening as you looked down at him. 

His eyes took in your body, and he winced as if pained when you touched yourself, knowing that usually he alone had that honour. 

“Y/N…”

“One more time, and you won't return to this bed for days. Do you understand?”

Learning, he nodded and sat up again to watch your fingers play with your nipples, twisting them either way as you moaned and sighed above him.

His breathing hitched as you let your hands trail lower and lower until they reached your cunt. You didn't touch yourself yet though. 

“Open,” You said, leaning forward and tapping his chin. He complied, opening his mouth and you shoved two fingers inside.

“Get them nice and wet for me.” 

He licked and sucked your fingers for two minutes, never breaking eye contact as his spit rolled down your hand. 

“Good boy,” you said, pulling them away as you began to touch yourself. Sitting back on your ass, you rubbed your clit, rubbing his spit into your sensitive button, letting him know how good it felt, how close you were to cumming with his spit on your cunt. You plunged one finger in and then another as you watched him bite his tongue, careful not to let even a small sound slip out. 

You didn't even have to glance down to know he was hard. It was in the set of his shoulders, the rapid breaths he took. It was the way he sat back on his heels, rocking back and forth to feel some goddamn friction. 

You couldn't have that. 

You placed your foot on his uninjured shoulder and tried to hold him in place. 

“Don't fucking move,” you said, slipping a second finger inside yourself ad you picked up the pace. Your hips bucked ad you watched him watch your cunt, paying attention to every twitch you made, every moan, breath, gasp, and shudder. 

“I'm gonna cum, fuck, I'm gonna- shit! Shit-” 

You came with a spurt, squirting your cum across his face as he leaned closer, desperate to taste you. You grabbed his hair and forced him backwards though, grabbing the two toys beside you as you dropped down to the floor. 

“You're not touching my cunt today, Spencer, not even for a taste. You're not touching anything today.”

You pulled his cock free from his pants and spat on it, not bothering to touch it properly before pushing the cock ring onto him and pressing the on button. 

In a minute he was a moaning mess and you smiled at the painful pleasure disrupting his features. 

“Eyes open, Spencer, you have to keep watching.” 

You kept your eyes locked with his, his mouth open wide in a silent moan as he tried not to cum, desperate to hold out for you as long as he could. 

You climbed back onto your bed and spread your legs again, this time accompanied by a translucent plastic cock. You teased your hole for a few seconds, grabbing Spencer's attention before pushing it in. 

His eyes were stormy as he watched you fuck yourself with your old companion. You hadn't used it in a while, basically since you'd started fucking Spencer. He had rules, and one of them was that you couldn't use the dildo without his permission. He'd never given permission.

The look on his face now was worth whatever punishment he'd had out in the future, a mixture of anger and pathetic arousal, his eyes never leaving your cunt even as his own dick started spurting.

He came quickly, splashing up his shirt, ruining his pants. 

You left him there like that, though, even as he winced from the overstimulation. 

He didn't make a sound still, even as his dick got hard again almost immediately after deflating the first time.

“Look at what a mess you made. You're such a little pervert that you just came all over your shirt and pants. I hope you bought a spare, Spencer.” 

His fight was gone as he looked at you again, only lust left as he panted and writhed beneath you. 

You kept riding the dildo, burying It between pillows so you could ride it easier without needing to hold it. 

He watched transfixed as his cock twitched again, vibrating still right on his balls. 

“Tell me how good it feels, Spencer.’

“Hurts… Y/N, so good…. it hurts.”

You smiled down at him and kept asking him questions, knowing he'd never be able to stay quiet now. 

“Do you want to cum again?” 

“Fuck…yes, please, Y/N, please.”

“Do you want to cum all over yourself one more time?”

“N-No… messy, want to cum…in you.”

“What a shame, Spencer, but that isn't allowed. I won't let you cum in me if you're going to try to take a bullet in the field.”

“Y/N… p-please,” he whined, and you heard his voice break, hips thrusting up into the air now as he watched you. 

“No. You're going to cum on yourself until you promise not to do it again.”

He shook his head, closing his eyes as he tried to resist cumming for a second time, so out of control. “Please-” 

“You can do it. Promise me.” 

“Y/N, p-please let me cum” he moaned again, his hands pulling at the restraints so he could get this infernal cock ring off of him and bury himself inside of you. 

But it was too late, and his second orgssm stretched out longer than the one before. 

You'd leaned in so close you'd caught a drop of cum on your face, but most of it pooled on him instead. He collapses backwards, his cum coating his stomach and chest, his shirt going translucent in places as the ring kept buzzing. 

His moans were loud now, and immediately, he knew it was too much to wish for round three. 

“I promise! Y/N, I promise, please fuck, I promise.”

You quickly fell to the floor, turning off the cock ring and slipping it off as you kissed him tenderly, thanking him and praising him for doing such a good job for you. 

You rolled him onto his side and removed the handcuffs, immediately pulling them into your lap and massaging them, feeling a bit guilty about the red marks. 

“Spencer?” You asked after a few moments when he seemed to have regained his breath and his senses. 

“Mmm?” 

“We should get you in bed. You need to rest.” 

He nodded and weakly sat himself up, falling into bed beside you. He threw the dildo across the room and nuzzled himself into you, head buried between your breasts. 

You pulled away and came back with a wash cloth, stripping his shirt and pants and cleaning the cum off him as best you could so he could sleep comfortably. 

“I prefer when you do that with your mouth, you know?” He joked, and you playfully hit his leg. He couldn't still be thinking about sex after that. 

But he was. As careful as you were to not overstimulate him again, his cock still rose again, and he pushed your hands away, pulling you up to him. 

“I came twice, but you only did it once,” he whispered between kisses. 

“It seems like we need to get even.”

With that, you knew that your turn being in charge was over, and he was the leader now.

"But only if you beg for it," you smirked, looking up at him, but he easily flipped you over, pushing you up so you were kneeling on the sheets above him again, him undernesth you. 

You happily followed him as he pulled your dripping core over his mouth, and he pulled you in for one last taste, begging you for forgiveness with his tongue again and again.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sometimes goodbye is a second chance ] j. hughes

paring : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary : Jack and his ex reunite at Nico’s wedding, reigniting some old feelings between the pair

warning(s) : a heavy makeout session, mentions of injured!jack & hockey injuries

author’s note : was reading something for jack then realized that it’s been a hot second since i wrote anything for him so that’s how this lil thing was born lmaoo. enjoy loves

༺═──────────────═༻

She wasn't going to go to the wedding. As a matter of fact, she made sure she had plans for that weekend that she was supposed to be in Switzerland so she could use them as an excuse to why she couldn't be there for the wedding.

Then Nico did everything but get on his hands and knees to beg her to come since she is one of his close friends. How could she say no to those big doe eyes that the captain of the Devils has? Even she's not immune to those eyes of his.

It's a beautiful day when she arrives for the wedding. Nico waits for her by baggage claim when she walks into Bern Airport after getting off the plane that brought her to Switzerland. She smiles and runs up to her close friend. Despite everything that happened right after the new year, she and Nico stayed close.

Well, as close as they could be while she was busy avoiding one of his teammates.

When she gets to Nico, she wraps her arms around him. "So happy you could come," Nico tells her as they back away from each other. "Mia is even excited that you're here."

"Nico, I can't ever say no to either of you," she teases. "I'm happy that I came too though. Forgot how beautiful it is here."

She grabs her suitcase and duffel bag before she walks outside to Nico's car. "So, all the guests are at the hotel already since the rehearsal dinner is tonight on the roof," he tells her as they load her stuff into the car. "There's probably enough time for you to take a nap if you want to take one since I know you're a big napper after you travel." She playfully punches his shoulder as soon as she's settled in the passenger's seat. "I'm just saying that you came in eight hours before the dinner so you have time to sleep if you want!"

"You don't have to call me a 'big napper'," she retorts with a smile on her face. Nico sticks his tongue out at her. "Oh, how grown up. Aren't you getting married tomorrow?"

"And my fiancé finds it cute when I stick my tongue out at her."

"Doesn't work on me, Nico. Hate to break it to you."

After about twenty minutes of driving, Nico pulls up to the hotel. She looks up at the building with a sigh.

The entire drive, her mind has been on her ex-boyfriend. She knows that he'll be here, but she doesn't know if he's already here.

Nico turns the car off as soon as he finds a parking spot. She sighs and unbuckles her seatbelt. She waits to get out though. She doesn't know how she feels about running into Jack, but right now she's very anxious.

It's not that they ended on bad terms. She just couldn't watch him keep playing and risking long term damage to his shoulder.

He kept forcing himself to get back on the ice before his body was ready and he wasn't able to heal correctly. She couldn't bear to watch him keep hurting himself, so she walked away.

Of course she kept tabs on him throughout the rest of the season after she walked away in January. It broke her heart to miss the Stadium Series game because she was looking forward to seeing both him and Luke play. She was ecstatic when she saw online that he was going to be getting surgery on the shoulder that he hurt in the game against Chicago.

She didn't reach out though. She didn't think she had the right.

"I know you're worried about seeing him," Nico states. "I made sure that your rooms were on different floors so you won't see each other until later. He, um ..." he trails off. "He tells me all the time how much he wishes he listened to you and let his body heal."

"He only keeps saying that because he wishes he never lost me," she comments as she blinks away the tears that have formed in her eyes. "I walked away because I couldn't keep watching him hurt himself to play a sport. I know he loves it, but he loved it more than he loved me so I walked away."

"He got surgery back in April," Nico tells her. "Before the season even ended to get a head start on his recovery. He started doing physical therapy two weeks ago so he's doing well. He'll get back on the ice in a month. I told him to take it easy."

A tear rolls down her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. "Why couldn't he just do this sooner?" she says. Her voice is so shaky that she can barely speak.

Nico grabs her hand. "He needed to lose you to realize that what he was doing was not okay," he replies. "I know how hard it's been for you. Both of you. I think that the two of you should talk this weekend. For both your sakes."

She shakes her head and looks at Nico. "I don't know if I can face him after walking away from him," she cries. "You didn't see the look on his face when I left the apartment that day, Nico. You didn't see how much I hurt him when he was already in physical pain. I don't know if he even wants to talk to me after that. I kicked him when he was already down."

He pulls her across the armrest and into a hug. She cries into his shoulder and grasps onto his t-shirt. "He's worried that you won't talk to him," he admits. "Just so you know. If you want to talk to him, do it. You both need some closure."

The worst part is that she knows it too. She walked away and didn't reply to a single one of his texts or calls. She moved to Philadelphia to her brother's apartment so she was just far enough away that he couldn't drive to her but close enough if something happened to him.

She never stopped caring, and she should probably tell him that.

With a nod, she pulls away. "Okay," she sighs. "I'll talk to him. Only if he wants to talk to me though."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

She doesn't talk to Jack at the rehearsal dinner. As a matter of fact, she doesn't even see him at the rehearsal dinner. There aren't a ton of people at the dinner either so she thought that she would see him. It surprises her that she didn't.

Getting ready the next afternoon though, she knows that today will be the day she sees him. At least she'll look her best when he sees her for the first time since she walked out on that cold January day. Same goes for him. Jack's always looked good in a suit and tie. She wonders which one of his game day suits he'll be in today.

Three rolls around and she heads from her second floor hotel room down to the first floor. She'd walk down the stairs if her feet weren't already killing her from the heels she has on.

The ceremony is taking place in the ballroom because of how many guests will be attending. The reception and dinner are taking place up on the rooftop at five so Nico and his new wife can get some pictures taken up there before everyone joins them.

Elevator doors open and she's met with the one person she's been wanting to avoid until the reception tonight. Jack freezes like a deer in headlights, but his eyes drink her in as she steps onto the elevator.

It's not like she's wearing something very revealing. The top of her red dress hugs her body, shoves off her curves, and pushes her breasts up a little bit. Her loose sleeves hang off her shoulders. The skirt falls to her knees and is kind of puffy.

"Uh, hi," Jack breathes out as the door closes behind her. "You, um, look good."

"Hi," she replies as she runs her fingers through her curls. "You too. Um, look good." His red tie with his black and white suit matches her red dress. Nico definitely told him what color that she was going to wear.

His eyes flicker down her body again and she feels self-conscious of the way her dress hugs her body. She crosses her arms over her chest and prays that the doors open soon.

Jack quickly picks up on how uncomfortable she is. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Stare?" she interrupts. "It's fine." The elevator dings and the doors slide open behind her. "I'll see you around."

She quickly makes her escape. Her heels are muffled by the carpet but she finds the room that she knows Nico is in.

After she knocks a handful of times, the door opens. Nico is the one that opens the door. He looks handsome in his suit and tie. He has a white rose hanging out of his flap on his jacket. "Oh, don't you look nice dressed up," she comments.

Nico rolls his eyes and lets her in the room. "Oh, shush," Nico retorts. She looks behind him as she walks into the room to and sees his older brother, his dad, Timo, and Jonas.

"Hi," she says to everyone in the room. "Just needed to come talk to Nico for a second. Won't keep him very long. I swear."

"What's going on?" Nico questions behind her.

She turns to face him. "I ran into Jack," she replies. "Wearing a red tie. Want to tell me why he was wearing a red tie when I'm wearing a red dress?"

He shoots her a smile. "Purely coincidental," Nico tells her. "He does play on a team that wears red and black so many he was missing the team when he picked out his tie."

"Nico Hischier, I'm going to kill you on your wedding day if you don't start talking in the next two seconds," she snaps.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Nico laughs as he throws his hands up in the air in surrender. “I have no idea why Jack’s wearing a red tie. I didn’t tell him what you were wearing if that’s why you came marching in here to yell at me.”

She sighs and rubs her fingers through her curls. “Okay,” she replies. “I think I’m just losing it or something. Kind of freaking out.”

“Have you talked to him?” asks Timo. She looks over Nico’s shoulder to look at him. “I mean, it might solve that unresolved tension between you. It’s so thick that I can feel it when he’s not even in the room.”

With a blink of her eyes, she says, “I can’t believe I never thought of talking to him. Wow.”

Timo rolls his eyes and Nico takes over the conversation. “Look, I know you’re avoiding him because you think he doesn’t want to talk to you,” he begins to say. “But even Timo and Seigs can attest to this, Jack wants to talk to you. Seriously. He’s nervous you won’t talk to him. You’ll be in the same area for the rest of the day. Please say more than just ‘you look good’ to him.”

She groans in slight frustration. “You are insufferable,” she tells her close friend. “Good luck Mia.”

There’s laughter behind her as she walks out of the room to get to where the ceremony is taking place in one of the larger rooms.

It’s almost like a very large conference room with a lot of chairs. There has to be nearly a hundred chairs in the room. She greets Nico’s mom and sister as well as some of his Devils teammates.

Across the room, she sees Jack talking to his brothers. All three of them look very handsome. That’s when she realizes that Jack’s arm isn’t in a sling like he was the last time she saw a picture of him. She was too shocked earlier in the elevator to notice that he doesn’t have on a sling. His hair is a little longer than it was a few months ago. He smiles at something Quinn said.

She takes her seat right behind the Devils, sitting right behind Jack of all people. He sits between Haula and Merc.

When she goes to say something, the ceremony starts.

Talking to Jack is just going to have to wait.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There’s an hour between when the ceremony ends and the reception begins so Nico and Mia can take pictures up on the roof. She needs to touch up her makeup since she decided to cry while Nico was saying his vows. Her best friend grew up so much since they met back at the 2017 NHL draft.

A lot of the guests have already made their way to the roof when she gets up there. She grabs a glass of champagne from a tray that a waiter is holding and takes a big gulp of it to prepare her for the night to come.

She spots Dawson, Luke, Jesper, and Simon all standing by the railing. No Jack so it’s safe to approach despite his little brother standing there. She hopes that Luke doesn’t hate her guts for breaking his brother’s heart.

When she approaches the group of Devils, Dawson gets excited. “Oh my God, I didn’t think you were coming,” he says as he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“And miss a Swiss wedding?” she laughs. “Absolutely not. I wasn’t about to skip out on Nico’s wedding.” The boys laugh, even Luke. Her eyes fall on the youngest of the Hughes boys. “And how are you, baby Hughes? Still settling in well with the team?”

Luke nods with a smile. “The guys have been very welcoming,” he tells her. “Helped me out of that slump I was in.”

She mirrors his smile. “That’s great,” she says. “Glad you were able to come in and get right to it. Being a Calder nominee isn’t an easy feat so I wanted to come congratulate you on your rookie season.”

“Thank you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Jack. He stands with Dougie, Dawsy, Haula, and Nico. Mia stands with her arm hooked with her new husband’s.

Luke, Dawson, and Nemec all walk away to get another drink. Jesper stands next to her. “How many times have you been told to talk to him?” Bratter asks.

“Too many so please don’t-”

“I’m not. I was just going to offer to go get him if you did want to talk to him.”

She sighs and finishes her glass of champagne. “I want to talk to him but do you really think he’ll listen to me if I apologize?” she comments.

“I do,” Bratter replies. She looks up at him. “I mean it. He has been kicking himself for months. I know he misses you. I don’t know if he misses your relationship or just you in his life but he misses you. I think talking to him is worth it.”

She turns her head to look at Jack. He looks happy and she doesn’t want to ruin that. “What if I just upset him?” she questions. “I don’t want to ruin his happiness.”

“He’s not truly happy without you,” Jesper says. “Talk to him. I think he’ll listen to what you have to say. Maybe he will even offer his own apology to you. I’ll be right back.”

Then he walks away. She watches him walk up to Jack and say something to him. She stands straight up and sighs when Jack looks over at her. She puts a smile on her face and heads over to the group.

It’s now or never. It’s early in the evening so neither of them are drunk yet. She’s had just enough alcohol to give her the courage to have this conversation with Jack.

All eyes are on her, but her eyes are on Jack. “Hi,” she breathes out. “Can we talk for a second? Please? Alone?”

Jack nods and hands his drink to Dougie. She shoots a smiling Nico a glare as she turns and walks inside so they’re away from the prying eyes of Jack’s teammates and her mutual friends that she has with Nico. They’re all very nosy.

She finds a little room off to the side that she walks into with a sigh. She picks at the skin around her fingernails out of nerves.

This is truly it. The next few minutes are either going to make or break whatever relationship or friendship they have left. She bites the inside of her cheek as she turns and faces Jack.

“What did you want to-” Jack begins to say before she interrupts him.

“I want to apologize,” she quickly replies. “For that night. For ignoring all your calls and texts after. I shouldn’t have given you that ultimatum. Not at that moment, anyway. I caused you emotional pain while you were in so much physical pain.”

Jack’s face falls into a frown as she talks. He starts to shake his head the longer she talks. “No, you had every right to give me that ultimatum,” he tells her. “I pushed myself way too hard and losing you opened my eyes to just how hard I was pushing myself. To what I was putting my body through. I didn’t understand why at first but now I do. I’m sorry that I saw that too late.”

Tears form in her eyes at the softness of his voice. She wasn’t expecting this Jack when she talked to him.

“I thought you’d be mad,” she admits. “I thought you’d want to yell at me for walking away. For ending it.”

“I was mad,” Jack says. “Believe me. I was so mad that I pushed myself even harder for a few weeks. Then there was setback after setback and I finally understood why.”

The tears that formed in her eyes roll down her cheeks, painting her skin black with eyeliner. She should’ve grabbed her waterproof eyeliner but she didn’t.

She stares across the room at her ex. Neither of them say a word for a second, before she asks the question she has wanted to know the answer to for nearly six months.

“Why did you do it?” she asks. “Why did you have to push yourself so hard and risk long term damage? Don’t tell me it’s because you love hockey and put your all into the sport. You shouldn’t have to push yourself to the point of surgery.”

Jack looks down at his feet and she raises her eyebrows. She presses her lips in a tight line as she waits for him to respond.

The answer she gets is not the one she was ready for.

“I thought that no one would care about me or love me if I wasn’t playing hockey,” Jack mumbles. “All anyone has talked about this season is me and my brothers. Hughes Bowl, me getting to 100 points after hitting 99 last season, whatever about me and Luke playing together. It seemed like no one would give a shit about me if I had stopped mid-season to heal. It seemed like everyone would write me off as weak or get mad at me for taking care of my shoulder. So I pushed you away and pushed myself to play until we got eliminated from contention so no one could blame me for missing playoffs. I didn’t want to be the reason we missed playoffs, but it feels like I am anyway.”

She frowns at his response. She had no idea that he felt this way.

There’s some space between them so she takes a few steps forward so she stands in front of him. “You could have talked to me,” she softly tells him. “I was willing to support you through whatever you needed to do to be healthy. Yet you seemed to care more about hockey than me.”

He lifts his head up and that’s when she sees the tears in his eyes. She pouts at the sight.

“I didn’t want you to see me at my lowest, and I’m sorry for pushing you away,” Jack comments. “I love you and I didn’t want you to see that side of me. I love you more than I have ever loved hockey. I should’ve listened to you when you told me to rest and I didn’t. I should have.” He pauses for a second and meets her eyes. “I never should have let you walk out that door.”

She reaches up to dry his cheeks when the tears begin to roll. “You know that everyone would still love and care about you if you had just pressed pause on the season,” she tells him. “Everyone that loves you would’ve supported you if you just let your body heal. No one likes seeing a player push himself to surgery. I would have stayed and helped you instead of loving and supporting you from afar.”

Jack leans down and rests his forehead on hers. His eyes are closed and her hands rest on his jaw. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones and her eyes remain on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Jack softly says.

“I’m sorry for walking out on you when you needed me,” she tells him. “I kicked you when you were down and it wasn’t fair of me to do that to you. I’m sorry I broke your heart.”

He wraps his hands around her wrists before he pulls them down so he can lace their fingers together. He doesn’t pull his forehead away and she doesn’t move either.

“You never broke my heart,” he whispers to her. “I broke yours by choosing hockey over you. I never wanted you to feel like I loved a sport more than you and that’s what I did. It’s my fault.”

She shakes her head and pulls back. Jack’s eyes open and he looks at her. His blue eyes shine with tears. “Even after everything, I still love you,” she admits. “I don’t believe that you can break my heart, Jack Hughes.”

He lets out a light laugh and shakes his head. “Same for you,” he tells her.

A small smile forms on her lips as she looks up at him. He lets one of her hands go to wipe away her tears. His thumb comes away black and he wipes her eyeliner on his black pants.

“Can I get a redo?” Jack asks. “On that ultimatum that you gave me? I have an answer for you.”

She bites the inside of her cheek before she asks in reply, “Is it going to be me? Or is it going to be your career?”

“It’s you, baby,” Jack instantly replies as he lifts his hand to cup her jaw. “It’ll always be you.”

The smile on her face grows. She licks her bottom lip as he pulls her in for a soft kiss. She hesitates for a second before she returns the kiss.

Jack drops her other hand so he can cup the other side of her jaw. Her fingers grasp at his open suit jacket so he can’t get too far. She wraps her arms around his torso under his jacket.

He takes a few steps forward so her back is pressed against a wall. She gasps as soon as her back hits the cool, smooth surface, but she doesn’t break the kiss. Jack leans down into her to deepen the already deep kiss. She presses herself flush against him.

His hands slide down to her waist before they slip behind her back. She feels his fingers graze the zipper and that’s when she pulls back. “Jack,” she sighs. “Not now.”

“Later though?”

“We’ll see,” she replies. “I think we should go back out. I’m sure Nico’s looking for us.”

Jack takes a few steps back to fix himself. She takes the moment to make sure she’s presentable as well.

With a sigh, she grabs Jack’s hand and they leave the room. Their fingers are laced together as they rejoin the reception. “So, how are we going to explain this to our friends?” Jack asks.

“We’ll just tell them that we got our heads out of our asses and apologized to each other,” she replies. “That we still love each other. I think saying goodbye gave us a second chance to do this the right way.”

They turn a corner and find themselves back on the roof with the rest of the party. “It did,” Jack says. She looks up at him. “Are you my girlfriend again? Or do I have to get down on my knees to beg you like I did the first time?”

She shakes her head with a laugh. “I’d like to see you get on your knees for a different reason so yes, I guess I’m you’re girlfriend again,” she tells him.

Jack presses a quick kiss to her lips, but every single one of their friends has already noticed.

“About damn time!” Nico shouts from across the room. A few of the Devils cheer for them and she steps even closer to her boyfriend.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

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[lukecastellanlov3r]

thinking about y/n accidentally flashing Luke while changing, and him being super flustered and horny for the rest of the day, than later, y/n catches him in the bathroom moaning her name while… you know 👀

OMGG, YESS. I LITERALLY CAN IMAGINE THIS HAPPENING

Luke Castellan x Reader

Smut warning

All the counsellors had a day off from camp activities today, meaning everyone was down by the docks.

You headed down there with Luke. He had just assumed that you weren't going to swim in the lake since you had your normal shorts and camp shirt on. He didn't know that you had your bikini underneath.

"You swimming, Luke?" You asked as you guys reached the docks

"Not today, no," he shrugged, laying out his towel on the sand and sitting on it. You sighed. He never came into the water anyway. You just shrugged it off and started to pull off your camps shirt, then your shorts. You bend over to put your clothes in your bag, not realising that your bikini bottoms were riding up slightly.

Luke's eyes widened as you bent over, getting a full view of your ass. He groaned quietly, his hand already adjusting his shorts as he felt a tent forming in them.

~★~

Luke had left the docks soon after you got into the lake, which was odd. Not to mention, he was acting a bit weird around you. Fine, a lot weird. But he was weird in general, so you barely batted an eye to it.

You got out of the lake and grabbed your bag, heading towards the counsellors' shower rooms. Slowly, you push open the door and are instantly greeted with groaning. The voice sounded very familiar. And the person was.... moaning your name?

Then it hit you.

Luke.

You dropped your bag onto the floor out of pure shock. It makes a thud loud enough that his moans stop.

It takes you a while, but you work up the courage to speak after a few seconds of gruelling silence.

"Luke.....?"

"Y/n?" He calls back, his voice hoarse and shaky.

You take a few shaky and slow steps towards the shower cubicle that you heard his voice coming from and knocked softly.

"Can you.... let me in?"

There's another beat of silence before the door clicks open, and the next thing you know, you're being pulled in, and the water from the shower soaks your hair. He pins you to the wall abruptly and makes out with you like there's no tomorrow. He pushes his tongue into your mouth and explores. His hands begin to wander, and they start pushing your bikini down. They hit the shower floor with a wet slap.

You gasp quietly, pulling away from his lips as you feel his long and nimble fingers trace all the way down to your folds.

"You want this, Y/n, right?" He whispers in your ear, nipping at your ear lobe.

You let out a small mewl, and that gives him enough of an answer. He turns you around and undoes your bikini top. He drops it to the side and presses your front against the shower wall. He trails gentle and slow kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. His hands trace down your curve, and he groans into the nape of your neck.

He guides your hands up and presses them on the wall as he bends you over. Without warning, he slips two of his fingers inside of you and starts pumping in and out of you. His fingers curled inside of your gummy walls.

"F-Fuck, Luke..... just do it already," you moaned, cleching around his fingers. He'd barely even done anything, but he already had you begging for more.

"You sure?"

"Mhmm~ just do it. Please," you mumbled

He pulls his fingers out of you, and you instantly feel empty. Not for long, though. His tip presses against your entrance before he starts to ease his length into you.

He barely got halfway before you had tears brimming your eyes, and you were moaning his name loudly.

Out of nowhere, he slams his hips into you, pushing himself completely inside you.

"You're fine, baby. Im not gonna hurt you," he murmured as i pumped in and out of you quickly.

He clamped his hand over your mouth as you started to get too loud. You were close, and so was he. You could barely keep yourself standing, and you could feel his dick twitching inside of you.

"L-Luke, 'm close," you muttered between sharp breaths and moans.

"Whenever you're ready, baby." He whispered, groaning while he bucked his hips into you faster and faster.

You both rode out your high together, loud moans ringing out through the shower. Your legs shook, and shivered as he slowly pulled out of you and his cum spilled out of you, dripping down your inner thighs

"Gods..... y/n, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that to you," he whispered.

~★~

Hey guys, sorry if this is bad, but it's my first ever fic. I'd love any tips or points. Thank you, anon, for the request.

[koolades-world]

Hiya! Hoping you’re having a good day :)

Can I ask for the Obey me! Brothers and the side characters for how they’d react to a low iron MC who just faints in front of them?

For example Beel would give MC more snacks which are rich in iron along side all of his snacks, just making sure they’re getting their iron.

Thank you! <3

hello! yes, of course :)

enjoy <3

Mc with low iron who faints in front of the brother + side characters

Lucifer

he looks calm but he's so freaking out inside haha

he does know what he's doing though and he stays by your side until you come to again

he makes a rule for the house that every dinner cooked must have at least one iron rich food in it so you get some daily

Mammon

he's for sure panicked, because you're his human after all

he uses his own lap as a pillow for you while he waits for you to come back

after this, he's ten times more protective and practically never leaves your side. he's holding your hand a lot more with some vague excuse of protecting you haha

Levi

he's full on panicking

he does need someone to quickly snap him out of it so he can help you

past you knew this might happen, so you told him what to do, and once you're awake again, he thanks you and sends you lots of tips he found online for low iron

Satan

he actually catches you but he wasn't actually expecting you to have passed out

he's very put together and makes sure you're breathing before setting you down, head on his jacket so it doesn't have to be on the floor

once you're awake again, he's not pestering you, but he does ask you and make sure you're meeting your iron requirements. if not, he'll help make sure you do :)

Asmo

he's the type to scream and cause a scene

but, it gets you the help you need and when you wake back up, he's crying happy tears and hugging you

he makes sure you add irons pills to your supplement routine and that you won't be getting too much iron now thanks to that

Beel

he's concerned but he's oddly silent the entire time

he totally forgets about his food and watches over you carefully

when you're back, he digs through his snacks and finds one high in iron and actually saves all of those for you in the future <3

Belphie

he seems pretty calm, and he is, but a small part of him is panicking

but, he knows how to help you and he knows freaking out won't do you any good

once you're awake again, he helps to soothe any injuries you may have gotten and puts in more effort to ensure you're getting your needed iron intake

Diavolo

he really wished he was calmer throughout the entire ordeal, but he was very worried

he lets barbatos care for you and when you wake back up, he's by your side

he's already arranged an appointment with his doctor to make sure this doesn't happen again

Barbatos

he's very collected and knows exactly what to do

he elevates your legs and makes sure you're breathing until you wake up

after this, every time you come over for dinner, he makes sure all the food is iron rich and that it's something you'll be sure to ask seconds of <3

Simeon

another one who's very calm and knows how to help you

after you wake he, he makes sure you're not hurt after your fall

he has you rest for the remainder of the day so he can monitor your condition and feed you dinner

Luke

he's so so worried about you

he'll be right next to you the entire time, very close to crying

once you wake back up, he's hugging you so tightly and is finding ways to sneak more iron into your diet through the desserts he gifts you

Solomon

he's quick to use a spell to wake you back up

he arranges for someone to craft a quick bowl of fruits high in iron for you to snack on while he checks your vitals

you notice him keeping a much closer eye on you from then on, but you're not opposed to it

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part three // spitfire

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, minors DNI

WORD COUNT - 4.5k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker // tobey!peter = pete

On the walk back from Peter Pan’s, it seemed as though Parker had managed to entirely escape the sputtering awkwardness that had ensnared him the night before. 

And, after countless city blocks of listening to him babble about absolutely everything and anything, you realized that there was one very striking similarity between him and Peter. 

Both boys had a fervent interest in all things nerd. 

“New Hope takes place nearly two decades after the rise of the Galactic Empire, meaning that Leia is only nineteen when she's kidnapped and forced aboard the Death Star! Which is like, absolutely insane, right? Seriously! Imagine being nineteen years old and stuck inside of something that has the potential to obliterate an entire planet!” 

Shoving open the lobby door to your complex, Parker hardly even waits for you to hum your agreement before continuing his retelling of the Star Wars film. 

“And at the exact same time, Luke is finally beginning his Jedi training! Which, honestly, nineteen is actually super old for that, but-” 

Moving towards the stairs, Parker close on your heels, you cut him off with a question. “Too old? Nineteen is hardly even an adult,” you argue. “What age do most Jedi start training?” 

“About four or five, so obviously Luke was way behind,” 

Not even a full three stairs up, you come to a grinding halt, leaving Parker to bump into your back. “Four?!” You cry out, wide-eyed as you spin around to face him. “That’s insane!” 

Parker only lifts his shoulders, clearly not understanding the reason for your horror. 

Furthering your point, you add, “There’s nothing ethical about taking a bunch of little kids and training them to be weird, intergalactic warriors!” 

“It’s the best way to train them!” He lifts his hand defensively, explaining, “The earlier they start training, the less likely it is that the kids will have formed an attachment to their families! That way they learn to act out of logic instead of emotion!” 

For a heartbeat, you’re rendered entirely speechless by the absurdity of his claim, left to stand with your mouth agape as you blink at him. 

“That sounds like emotional abuse,” you finally huff, shaking your head. “Actually, scratch that—it doesn’t sound like emotional abuse, it just is!” 

“It’s not abuse-” 

You hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Give me one good reason why a group of adults should withhold love and affection from children if they aren’t abusing them.” 

“Uh, how about the fact that love is basically what made Anakin turn to the dark side!” Parker scoffs, clearly unwilling to recognize how insane the notion he was pushing actually is. 

“Or maybe Anakin turned to the dark side because he was indoctrinated and traumatized by some stupid space cult!” 

The expression on his face is downright laughable. 

It was as if you had just reached out and slapped him across the face. His jaw went slack, his mouth hung open in blatant offense. As a sputtering noise falls from his lips, trying and failing to come up with a good rebuttal, you smirk. 

“Exactly,” you boast, taking his inability to speak as a sign of victory. 

Twirling on your heel, you continue up the stairs, nearly all the way to the top before you finally hear him come stomping up behind you. 

“The Jedi Order is not a cult!” He finally shouts after you. 

Already traipsing through the hallway, fiddling with your keys, you sing-song, “Whatever you say, bug-boy.” 

Reluctant to admit defeat, Parker continues grumbling under his breath as you unlock the door, spouting something off about your lack of respect for George Lucas. 

“Look,” you tell him, pushing the door open, “if liking Star Wars matters this much to you, then I’ll gladly watch them with you.” A wry smile plays on your lips as you turn to look at him, standing in the doorway, “Maybe watching them will be enough to change my opinion on turning kids into galactic slaves.” 

Eyes narrowing in a playful glare, he’s only able to hold the expression for less than a few seconds before a laugh causes him to break character. “I just can’t believe that Peter hasn’t made you watch them already,” he admits. “I had you watch them so much that you could probably recite the scripts from memory alone!” 

His amusement dies off as soon as he finishes the sentence. Despite having been the one to bring it up, the mention of his world seems to cast a sullen shadow over him, ruining his sweet, boyish smile. 

Curiosity instantly claws at you, begging you to ask him why his world seemed to have such a negative effect on him. Or, rather, why his version of you seemed to have such an effect. 

This had happened last night too, when you had asked him if the two of you were friends in his world—and it was because of this that you assume that you’re somehow the common denominator in his discomfort. 

Still, you don’t let yourself ask him about it. For as much as you’re starting to like Parker, you don’t know him nearly well enough to try prying into his life. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Well, you’re more than welcome to force me into sitting through them in this world, too.” You tell him sweetly, sweeping an arm out to gesture inside of your apartment, inviting him. “It’s not like I’ve got any plans for the rest of the day.” 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you did have plans. Life had been so quiet since that last night with Peter and Mj—the night when everything went so horribly wrong. 

Parker sucks in a breath through his teeth, a hand coming to rest against the back of his neck. “I should probably get back out on the streets,” he reluctantly says, sounding more like he was convincing himself of that than you. “But, I don’t know, maybe we can take a rain check on it, yeah?” 

Disappointment washes over you, sudden enough that you’re sure it shines through on your face. It takes a shocking amount of willpower to stop yourself from trying to persuade him to stay, wanting to remind him that two other Spider-Men were already running themselves ragged in pursuit of the villains—so why did he have to go, too? 

You had grown used to his constant talking, having found solace in the chatter that kept you from slipping too far into your own thoughts. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay so that you wouldn’t have to be alone; so that you wouldn’t have to risk thinking too long about Doctor Strange or the multiverse or constants or Peter. 

The thought of admitting any of that out loud, however, felt incredibly humiliating. 

“For sure,” you force a smile, trying to ignore the many thoughts swirling in your mind. Then, eyeing the slightly too-tight Ramones shirt that he’d stolen from you, you add, “But shouldn’t you at least come in and change?” 

His nose wrinkles slightly as he shakes his head. “Nah—I think this city has more than enough spider-people swinging around it right now. I figure we might actually benefit from one of us patrolling on the ground-level, y’know? Maybe I can ask around for any giant lizards or blown light bulbs.” 

It’s hard to tell if the last bit is meant to be a joke or not, but you laugh anyway if only to avoid knowing why you should be worried about lizards and light bulbs. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you second his idea. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?” 

A surprising sense of joy lights his eyes at the sound of your hesitance, unfitting of the simplicity of the moment, but charming nonetheless. He grins—a wide and endearing sort of grin—as he takes a step back, “I won’t be gone long,” he promises before reminding you, “lock the door behind you, alright? And if you need anything-” 

He pauses, patting the pockets of his jeans only to remember that he didn’t bring a phone with him to this universe—and that, even if he did, there likely wasn’t a wireless plan good enough to support multiversal travel. 

“If you need anything, call 911.” 

“Got it,” you laugh, watching as he stumbles backwards towards the stairwell, cheeks red with faint embarrassment. 

Turning to go inside, you can’t ignore the warmth that now blooms in your chest. 

You could definitely get used to having him around. 

A peculiar sensation prickles at your skin, curling along your spine like icy fingertips. 

Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

The usually comfortable atmosphere of your apartment had shifted. An eerie tension fills the space, a near-suffocating feeling that has the very walls holding their breath, humming a tune of warning as you inch further into the living room. 

Your stomach twists as the sharp tang of exhaust fumes fills your nostrils. By the couch, a faint breeze rustles the curtains of a window, wafting in the nauseating scent of the city street below—a window that hadn’t been open when you left earlier. 

A mere foot or so away, you notice that the picture frame Parker had been fiddling with before is now lying on its face, having been knocked off the end table and abandoned. Atop the table, you notice that the lamp is sitting askew, its base just inches from tumbling over the edge and joining the frame. 

Someone had come in through your window—and it didn’t appear as though stealth had been very important to them, given that they had clearly stumbled into the table upon their entrance. 

Adrenaline floods your senses, your spine stiffening as you take a series of slow, quiet steps. 

Moving towards the corner, you carefully reach out a hand to grab the metal bat propped against the wall. The bat had been an unlikely housewarming present from when you first moved in, given to you by Peter’s mentor and your own reluctant renegade, Tony Stark. For nearly two years now it had sat in this corner, unused and gathering dust—until now. 

You wrap your fingers tightly around the base, wincing slightly as the rubber grip pulls at the still-healing flesh on your palm, making you curse yourself for not properly bandaging the wound last night. 

But you’re used to pain—and so you’re easily able to bite back against it as you ease through the living room, checking for any sign of the intruder's presence. 

As you walk, gripping the bat like your life depends on it, you can’t help but hear Tony Stark’s voice echo in your mind. 

If you’re gonna live alone, then you should have some sort of protection—he had told you, gently placing the cool steel into your hands for the first time, a ribbon tied sloppily around it—not that you need it. 

Satisfied with your search of the living room, you start easing towards the hall. You’re good at sneaking around, having had a lot of practice at it—every movement you make is calculated, every footfall so purposefully gentle that it’s nearly silent. 

Quiet as you were, you could do nothing to ease the sound of your blood thrumming wildly in your own ears, your heart pounding against your chest. 

The incessant beating worries you—because you know that there are people in the world with the unnatural ability to hear such things. Peter, even with his enhanced hearing, had to be close to someone in order to hear something as soft as their heartbeat; but you had heard rumors that there were others who could hear a pulse from miles away, others like the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

The thought makes your blood run cold, though you try to push the worries from your mind. From what you know, the Devil doesn’t have a habit of breaking into apartments, nor was Queen's his usual jurisdiction. 

No—what you were dealing with had to be no more than an average burglar! 

An average burglar who, somehow, scaled up the side of a building to break into your apartment… 

Alright—you think, approaching the end of the hall—perhaps it’s a not-so-average burglar, then! Still better than the Devil. 

Peeling one hand from the bat’s handle, you curl your fingers around the doorknob to the guest room, Parker’s room. You ease the door open slowly, trying to keep the old hinges from crying out as you peer into the space. 

The sweet scent of vanilla is the first thing that hits you, contrasted by the subtle bite of vetiver. 

Parker—the room smells of him, even though he had only been here for one night. 

On the bed, the quilt is rumpled and thrown about, pillows strewn about. The doors of the armoire are wide open, a few old shirts hanging over the edge of one of the shelves, no doubt from when he went digging through your clothes in search of something to wear. 

The room was messy, but empty. 

Your shoulders sag, half-a-breath loosing from your lungs. The relief is short-lived, however; as by the time you edge back into the hall to turn towards your own door, you’re overwhelmed with dread. 

If whoever broke in was still here, then this was the only place they could be—save for the bathroom, though you seriously doubt any burglar would have much interest in scouring through your toiletries… 

Easily, gracefully, you twist the knob, the metal yielding quietly to your careful touch. 

The curtains are tightly drawn, eradicating any trace of sunlight and leaving the room cloaked in shadows. But, even in the darkness, you’re able to see the rough outline of a figure sprawled out across your mattress. 

For a split second, you think of Parker’s advice to call 911, the weight of your phone suddenly heavy in your back pocket. 

You think of how you should follow that advice. 

You think about how fast you could run—if you would be able to reach the front door before they could catch up to you. 

But then you stop thinking, disregarding all logic and reason as you take a step into the room, as if drawn in by some invisible force. 

Remaining mindful of your surroundings, you slowly approach the edge of the bed. Squinting in the darkness, you try to study the body laid out atop your comforter. Watching the steady rise-and-fall of their chest, it suddenly hits you that, whoever they are, they’re asleep. 

Slinking around the corner and coming to stand at your bedside, you’re finally close enough that you can see them in spite of the absence of light. Crimson and blue spandex clings tightly to their arms as they cling one of your pillows to their chest, and you feel your entire body sag with relief as you loosen your grip on the bat. 

So this must be Peter 2. 

The fabric of his mask is bunched up and resting along the bridge of his nose, which is somewhat smushed against the pillow he’s holding, no doubt leaving him to breathe in the scent of laundry detergent and your perfume. 

Lower, you can make out the subtle contours of his jawline and the curve of soft, pink lips. Higher, you’re met with the impassive stare of then white lenses sewn into his mask. 

The lenses shield his eyes from your view, and a curious feeling begins to tug at the furthest corners of your mind. Take it off—it seems to whisper, compelling you to move in closer, your shins pressing against the side of the mattress—take it off. 

You grit your teeth and try to ignore the feeling, try to ignore the velvet-voice slithering through your mind; begging you to look at him, to touch him, to notice him, to-

Pain shoots along the side of your temple, likely in response to the sudden tightness in your jaw. It distracts you enough that you’re able to shake the strange feeling long enough to regain your focus—even if the remnants of it still linger. 

You shouldn’t be interested in him—you should be pissed at him. 

Not only had he broken into your house, which was already bad enough, but he had also climbed into your bed and made himself cozy! The absolute gall, the audacity he must have, has you allowing the tiniest sliver of rage to ignite inside of you. 

Both hands still gripping the bat, you lower it from where it rests against your shoulder to swiftly jab its head into his stomach. 

A cough sputters past his lips as the impact pushes the air from his lungs. 

You’re actually shocked that you landed the blow—in truth, you had expected his spider-sense to kick in and detect the incoming hit, waking him with just enough time to dodge the shot. But, apparently, his instincts had made the mistake of assuming that you were of no threat to him. 

“Morning sunshine,” you chime, your feigned cheerfulness set off by a sneer. 

He’s scrambling into an upright position, knees sinking into the mattress as he presses a hand against the sore spot you’d created on his stomach. “What the fu-” 

His voice is hoarse—from sleep or pain, you’re not sure—and he doesn’t finish the curse spewing from his mouth once his head shoots up towards you, as if finally registering the sound of your voice. 

“I don’t know what things are like in your world,” you muse, swinging your bat back to rest against your shoulder, “but in this one, breaking and entering is considered a crime.” 

He’s still catching his breath, and while those damn white lenses covering his eyes give so little emotion away, you assume that he’s going to apologize. It’s what Peter would do, and Parker, too. 

But not him. 

“Your friends said I could stay here,” he defends himself. Taking another deep breath and extinguishing the burning in his lungs, the lower-half of his face transforms into a defiant smirk. “It’s not breaking and entering if you were invited.” 

“And did they tell you to sleep in my bed, too?” You shoot back, brows rising in annoyance. “Word of advice: next time you’re invited to stay in a total stranger’s house, maybe try not to repay their kindness by crawling through their window.” 

He mocks you without missing a beat, “Word of advice: you live in a shitty neighborhood—if you don’t want people coming through your windows, you should try locking them.” 

“Ah, right! Cause the average person is definitely willing to scale the side of a building for the prospect of an unlocked window!” 

“You’re a pretty girl in a dangerous city,” he drones, lifting a shoulder as he meets your sarcasm with purposeful calm. “You’d be surprised what people would be willing to do for a chance at getting you alone.” 

The insinuation sends a shiver down your spine, but you mask your unease, flashing a smile that’s more predatory than sweet. “Aw,” you coo, “so you think I’m pretty?” 

He returns the expression, skillfully avoiding your derisive question. “I think you’re irresponsible—and a little cocky.” 

“Better to be cocky than a felon,” you remark. “Just spare my neighbors the acrobatics show next time, would you? Maybe try knocking on the door like a normal person! Preferably when you’re not dressed like… that.” 

It’s not that his suit wasn’t nice, because it was. But it lacks the advanced Stark-tech that makes Peter’s suit so uniquely sleek, meaning that it was likely safe to assume that no one in this world would mistake this boy for the real Spider-Man. 

Unless they were to catch him scaling up the side of your building… 

“I tried knocking.” he sounds exasperated, as if you are testing his patience. “You weren’t home.” 

You snort a laugh, wondering if he truly believes that is all the reason he needs to break into someone's home. 

“Then you should’ve waited until I got home,” 

“I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I was too tired to wait.” 

“Then you should’ve slept in the alleyway with the rest of the strays,” you hiss at him, fingers tightening around the bat as your frustration builds. 

The sheer ferocity in your voice gives him pause, stunning him into silence. 

Then the corner of his mouth begins to twitch upwards, lazily grinning at you as if he actually enjoys the verbal onslaught. 

You can tell that he’s watching you through those white lenses, and his tongue darts over his bottom lip, you feel your breath catch in your throat. “Fine,” amusement dances in his tone as he raises his gloved hands, “fair enough.” 

For a moment, no sound comes from your parted lips, leaving you to stand there gaping at him until you remember how to speak. “Fair enough?” You echo, shaking your head slightly. “That’s all you’ve got? No apology?” 

He moves, forcing you to take a step back as he shoves his legs over the side of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s not as tall as Parker, but he still stands an inch or so higher than you, making it hard to not feel intimidated as he stares down at you, your own face staring back from the reflection of his lenses. 

“Better not push your luck, Spitfire,” 

He’s baiting you—he has to be! Using a stupid nickname to get under your skin, to try and prod further at your short temper. And it’s working—god, you hate how much it’s working!—because you find yourself contemplating putting his superhuman durability to the test by whacking him over the head with your bat. 

“By the way,” he says before you have a chance to act on your intrusive thoughts, pointing at your hands, “you’re bleeding.” 

As if his words switch a flip in your head, you’re suddenly aware of the acute throbbing in your palm. You loosen your grip on the bat, letting it clatter recklessly to the floor as you hold your hand out to examine it. 

Unsurprisingly, the rubber handle managed to tear open the barely-healed cut on your palm, courtesy of your too-tight grip on it. You hiss through your teeth, watching as blood oozed from the cut, dripping down towards your wrist. 

Slipping past you, the boy only half-manages to stifle his laugh. “You should probably take care of that.” 

He’s already slipping out into the hall by the time you regain enough awareness to follow after him, gritting your teeth against the pain. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

“To the other room,” he calls over his shoulder. Once he’s standing in front of Parker’s door, he spins back around to face you, his snarky expression still in-tact. “Where I’m hoping you won’t follow me.” 

Everything about him causes your blood to boil—his grating voice, his insolent attitude, his stupid soft lips. 

“Would it kill you to be nice to me?” You exclaim, your voice strained with pain as you try to wrap your hand in the lower half of your shirt. 

It takes no-time for blood to start seeping through the thin material, and you certainly don’t look intimidating like this—the lower half of your abdomen on display as you try to apply whatever pressure you can to the wound—but you don’t care. 

“I don’t have to let you and Parker stay in my house—I’m doing it because I’m nice, alright? And, so far, you’ve been nothing but a dick!” 

The thin fabric of his mask shifts, brows furrowing at the mention of Parker. Unlike Peter, however, he doesn’t bother commenting on the nickname. “Nice isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe you. Especially since you’re the one calling me names.” 

The levity in his tone makes you want to scream—what was his deal?! 

You press harder against your bleeding palm, your breathing turning shallow. You’re not sure if it’s frustration or pain or what, but you feel like your head is spinning. “Look, I don’t know you, alright? But this? Isn’t gonna work,” you bark at him, chin lifted defiantly as you stare into his mask, unrelenting. “If you plan on staying in my house, then you’ll get your shit together—got it?” 

His head tilts, curiously watching as you continue your frantic speech. 

“No crawling in through my windows or sleeping in my bed or smarting shit off! And take off that stupid mask!” You huff, shaking your head. “Or, I don’t know, pull it down the rest of the way! Just do something because you look stupid like that!” 

The words are spewing from your mouth like a torrential downpour, fueled by the rage swirling in your stomach and the throbbing in your hand and—

He laughs, a genuine laugh that isn’t born of derision, and you feel your racing thoughts slow to a halt. “You should work on your insults,” reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs his mask off. “Because that was pathetic.” 

It’s no longer just your thoughts that have slowed, but the entire world. Everything around you feels like it has come skidding to a stop—leaving you staring up at him like a dumbfounded idiot. 

He’s beautiful—a commonality among Peter’s variants, it seems. 

He’s smirking, an infuriatingly charming smirk that lets you know he has no intention of listening to your demands for him to silence his quick wit. But you’re not focusing on that—no, you’re focusing on the features that had been hidden from you this whole time; his dark hair, tousled from removing his mask, falls in a chaotic halo around his face, contrasting the vibrance of his eyes. 

His eyes. 

They leave you breathless, and you hate it. Colored with the deepest cerulean you’ve ever seen, his eyes feel like staring into the depths of a crystalline ocean. You can almost feel yourself getting swept up in their tides, feel them enveloping you in a feeling of familiarity, as if this wasn’t the first time you had been pulled into their ebbing waters. 

“Have we–” your mouth has gone dry, your voice cracking. “Have we met before?” 

It’s a ridiculous question, and you recognize that even as it’s spilling from your lips. You couldn’t have met him before—not when the two of you weren’t even from the same universe! 

He seems to be thinking the same thing, and you’re already preparing to take the full force of whatever smartass comment he’s about to fling at you. “I’ve met you,” he says simply, taking you by surprise. Then he inclines his head towards your still-bleeding hand, “You should patch yourself up before you stain the carpet.” 

You look down at your hand, at the hem of your shirt, soaked in blood. 

“But just so I know,” you look back up, his body half-turned towards the door, his fingers resting against the knob, “if Peter and Parker are already taken, then who does that make me?” 

You have to force yourself to take a breath. “What did I call you in your world?” He’s silent for a moment, staring at the floor and chewing on his lip. Then, pushing the door to Parker’s room—their room—open, he smiles.

“Pete.”

a/n - ayyy, pete's finally here! and, ofc, lots of other little important details sprinkled around as well.

also, i really wanna say thank you to everyone who has been reading and enjoying this story so far! it truly means the world to me to read all of the nice comments and to know that you guys are interested in this story! so, again, thank you 💖 as always, please comment/like/reblog and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

part four, titled "blooms of subterfuge", to be released april 29th

[julietsbody]

thinking of luke finding his best friend high at one of those parties they secretly hold at camp… 

semi inspired by murdrdocs’ blurb abt smoking w luke & princessbrunette’s blurb abt jj finding his innocent friend high!!

typically luke never came to these, he was never really a party person, just until you’re texting him some sloppy words that barely make any sense— so now he’s weaving his way through the mess of trees towards the booming music in the distance. did they know how to not get caught? 

luke’s nose scrunches as soon as he gets close enough to make out where you might be in that bright pink skirt he always saw you in, his steps move faster, especially since you’re talking to some asshole from the hades cabin. his jaw shifts as soon as he plants his hands on your shoulders, pupils cinched as he glares at the man you’re speaking with. 

“oh, hey, luke!” you smile so sweet, a little too sweet, in fact, you smell.. he blinks once, then again, then again. to be honest, you don’t really remember texting luke, and it’s always a pleasant surprise to see him appear out of nowhere.

“hey, uh, lets go, yeah?” his hands are gentle when they move you to take a step or two back from the brooding man who clearly looks disappointed, if not a little agitated, with luke’s arrival. 

“but ‘m having fun, do you want to meet my friend? this is my friend—“ 

“yeah, yeah,” luke stares at the man for a second, “hey, dude, ‘kay, time to go.” 

“seems like she doesn’t want to,” the man suddenly speaks, and it should be a blessing from hades himself that luke doesn’t have his sword strapped to his belt. 

“seems like she does since she texted me,” his tone is firmer, a certain bitterness and bite to it, “should be lucky ‘m too busy to rip that smartass smirk off your face.” 

the last sentence comes out as a mumble as he gently guides you away from the party, having to take more of a precaution than usual since you’re stumbling an awful lot. god, how much did you smoke. 

“why’d you say that to him—“ 

“mmm, no reason— hey.. jus’ asking but, you didn’t get that weed from one of the guys there, right?” you seemed much more than just high, unless you smoked like, five blunts— gods, did you? 

“no, nono, got it from um.. lucy, she said it was reaaaalllyyyy strong but like— i only smoked a little,” he hums along to your non - stop giggles, failing to keep his hands from your shoulders since every time he lets go you nearly walk into a tree. 

“yeah, yup, jus’ a little, you know, uh.. you could always just ask to smoke with me,” he shrugs like it’s simple. 

“wooow, you smoke..?” you ask very slowly all of a sudden. 

“what, you think ‘m not cool enough to?” he tuts, steering you to the hermes cabin, which is of course, empty as it always is. you were sure the hermes kids were all dead by now since every time you’re in the cabin it’s vacant, well, besides chris, but he’s always glaring at luke and leaving to bother clarisse. 

“not what i said—“ you frown up at him, and he just nods, moving to sit you down on his bed as he inspects your face to make sure you’re solely high on weed— you really do reek of it, gosh, maybe he should spray his cologne on you. he doesn’t get more time to think before you’re pawing at him, “miss you, luke, talk to me.” 

he chuckles at the hazy glint in your eyes, “c’mon, princess, ‘m not the man for that job.” 

you hook a finger around one of the belt loops on his jeans, tugging him in closer, “what do you mean?” 

“‘m your friend,” it comes out hushed, breathy, “jus’ here to take care of you.” 

“so take care of me,” your eyes catch on to the bulge forming in his pants, a lazy smile curving your lips upwards. 

he pauses for a second, considering, before unhooking your hand from his pants and moving you to lay down on his bed, “time to get some beauty sleep, yeah? g’na get me in trouble if you keep acting out, princess.” 

[sovksluv]

seven minutes in hell

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

𖤐 . summary - a stupid game of spin the bottle/seven minutes in heaven gone… wrong?

𖤐 . content includes - smut MDNI🔞, bad interpretations of frat parties/boys

𖤐 . word count - 1014

𖤐 . taglist - @perseus-jackass @niktwazny303 @st4rzl7

𖤐 . a/n - i randomly got this idea and was very motivated idk why. anyways, hope you enjoy !!

“you are so. mph~ infuriating,” you struggled out.

he chuckled, speeding up his erratic movements, forcefully slamming your body into the wall with each thrust.

“yeah, keep saying that like my dick- fuuck~ like my fuckin’ dick isn’t in ya’ right now,” Luke teased, slowing his movements to add to the annoyance, protruding a half whimper-groan from you.

he scoffed, a dumb smirk on his face as his hips resumed their work, thrusting his fat cock into you even faster — desperate to finish you both off before the timer finished.

his sudden pounding forced a choked moan from you, panic flooding your eyes. Luke’s smirk widened, he motioned to one of your hands with his head.

you took the sign, gratefully covering your mouth the second his calloused fingertips met your clit, which erupted yet another squeak from you.

he practically had you bent in half against the closet wall, the tight space not leaving much room for the two of you.

you were at some stupid frat party — which you did not want to go to. your friend Silena insisted you needed some time out, and just about dragged you to said party.

with a few drinks in, you were grumbling as she dragged you to a cliché game of seven minutes in heaven, consisting of a circle of other students all drunk or high or both.

despite your tipsy state, you recognized a few people;

Charles Beckendorf — aka Silena’s never-ending crush that is too sweet for his own good.

Clarisse La Rue — aka the girl that typically wouldn’t be caught dead anywhere near a frat house, yet here she was.

Chris Rodriguez — aka the lame douchebag with hopeful heart eyes towards our dear Clarisse, and who also happens to be best friends with the boy that’s pounding your pussy into oblivion.

of course, the second it’s your turn to spin the bottle, it lands on probably the worst person in the group — Luke Castellan.

thank the Gods that the blaring lights of the party hid the blush on your cheeks, with a little help from the annoyed groan that left your mouth.

Silena giggled into her red solo cup, pushing you to stand up next to Luke, who was already standing, a smirk on his stupid face.

and that’s how you got here — folded in half against the closet wall, knees by your face and calves hanging over his shoulders, desperately screaming into your hand as Luke drilled his cock into you.

the fact that you got in this position during a seven minute game should’ve been on your mind, but the feeling of his cock head poking around your cunt had your eyes rolling back, head empty.

you wrapped your other arm around his neck, bringing him closer to you. uncovering your mouth and wrapping your other arm around him, your lips were close — but not touching.

you moaned into his mouth, feeling his warm breath as he pounded you, his own groans only fueling your arousal.

your eye trailed up, left hand coming up to knock away his stupid backwards cap, fingers immediately running through his curls, pulling and scratching at them.

he almost whimpered, lips trailing around your collarbone, moving up with kisses and leaving marks in his path.

“w-why do you we-ar that stupid c-cap?” you stuttered out, moaning breathlessly as his lips ceased their attack.

he chuckled again at you, hips stuttering and eyes fluttering. “will you shut up? m’ trying to fuck you.”

you moaned out, head falling back against the wall, his cock and fingers together draw you closer to the edge.

warmth spills and spreads through your bodies, feeling the effect of both your orgasms hitting at the same time.

you forced Luke’s head to yours, shoving your lips on his as you moaned in each other's mouths, sloppy and wet kisses following his slowing thrusts.

Luke carefully let you down, a hand on your waist to keep you up right. he hastily pulled up his jeans, putting himself away as he helped you redress.

you kept your arms around his neck as he pulled your panties up, fixing your dress and your hair.

face flushed, you watch as he bent down to get his cap, instead placing it backwards on your head, laughing at your annoyance.

moving to take it off, he gently grabbed your wrist.

“keep it.”

you raised your eyebrows but listened, lowering your hand. you went to speak again but were interrupted by a knock at the closet door.

in frantic movements, Luke had you shoved against the wall, breathing heavily as his head was turned towards the door, his tall frame blocking you from being seen if it were to open.

“seven minutes are up!” shouted Chris through the door, rustling could be heard from the other side as he moved away the chair that locked it. “you guys can come out now!”

Luke turned towards you, using his finger tips to tilt your chin up. with his fingers still touching you, he slightly bent down to capture your lips again in a searing kiss.

when he pulled away you were left almost breathless as he took your hand, opening the door and leading the two of you out.

whistling was heard from the game circle as you guys exited the smaller space. instead of going back to your spot next to Silena, Luke pulled your sore body down with him, sitting you right on his lap.

you made eye contact with Silena, who raised her eyebrows with a knowing smirk on her face.

everyone in the group knew what you had done in the closet, the stumbling of your walk, flushed face, and Luke’s stupid cap on your head hinted at it.

also the fact that you were sitting on his lap, head on his shoulder with his arms around your middle and his hickeys littered on your neck.

no one said anything though, they all just smirked into their own cups, continuing to play the game.

you still hated frat parties though. just maybe not this one.

© sovksluv 2024, please do not repost or translate my work!

[puckinghischier]

Bouy

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader gets dragged to the bar by jack to meet all of his teammates, but finds herself drawn to a certain swiss captain

notes: part 2 to locksmith!! probably some inaccuracies about various player’s personalities, but all in the name of entertainment, right? i didn’t proofread either, oops. don’t know if i’m happy with how this turned out but here it is nonetheless. hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼

part 1, part 3, part 4

[4.6k]

~

The bar that Jack picked is surprisingly busy for a week night. It’s not overcrowded, but it’s busy enough to where you’re having to hold on to the back of his shirt so you don’t lose him. He leads the two of you over to a set of tables tucked away at the back of the bar. Jack is greeted with shouts and hugs as you drop your grip on him and simply stand back, letting him have his moment. You recognize a few of the faces, no names coming to mind, but most of the faces you’ve never seen before. You should know the names and faces of who you’re assuming are Jack’s teammates, but the truth is, despite your relationship with the Hughes family, you’ve never been one to follow hockey very closely. You don’t come from an area where hockey is a big deal, and though you understand the logistics of the game and you’ve traveled to watch all three brothers in some of their biggest games pre-NHL, your knowledge of the league’s players pretty much begins and ends with Jack, Luke, and Quinn.

“Long time no see, hallway sleeper,” you’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice in your ear. You turn to see Nico, no hat this time, soft, brown hair on full display. He was still wearing a white t-shirt, only his sweats have been swapped for jeans this time.

“Long time no see, locksmith.”

Nico laughs, and for the second time today you allow yourself to think about how lovely the sound is. “You know, all in a day’s work.”

“Sounds like someone really should have a conversation with the big heads at the NHL. Their poor players work so hard, only to have to pick up second jobs on their off days in order to pay the bills. Shame on them,” you joke.

“I know! Maybe it’s time I go on strike, put my full attention to helping pretty girls break into their apartments full time,” he responds, a small blush forming on your cheeks.

“Well I don’t know about all that, I need my own personal locksmith on call at all times. You can’t abandon me in my time of need!”

“Wouldn’t ever dream of it,” Nico places his hand over his chest, feigning offense. You glance over his shoulder, eyeing the bar, thinking about the vodka cranberry that’s calling your name. He turns and follows your eyes. “Did you want to go get something to drink-“

“Neeks!! What’s up man! We missed you today!” Jack cuts Nico off as he turns around, sticking a hand out in-between himself and his captain. “The kids were asking where you were, you totally have to come with us next time!”

“Yeah, man. Next time, for sure. Just needed a rest day, y’know?” Nico responds, slapping Jack’s outstretched hand.

The two begin their own conversation about the charity skate while you stand in the background. You know Jack isn’t ignoring you on purpose, but you’re getting a little tired of just standing around, deciding that you need that drink sooner than later to loosen yourself up a bit and prepare yourself for the endless stream of socializing you know is about to come your way.

“Hey, J, I’m gonna get a drink, okay? I’ll be right back,” you interrupt the conversation, knowing Jack would be worried if he looked up and you were nowhere to be found.

“Oh shit, Y/N I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to introduce you to everyone. Neeks, this is Y/N, Y/N, Nico.”

“Yeah, we met earlier. When you decided to lock the door on your way out this morning and Nico seems to be the only person with a spare key to the place,” you deadpan, watching a confused look glaze over Jack’s features.

“I left the door unlocked, I swear! I even double checked as I was leaving, because Lu-“ Jack suddenly pauses. “Luke must have locked it when he went to grab his beanie he forgot. I’m so sorry, Bouy,” Jack apologizes, letting the nickname he gave you when you were kids slip out of his mouth.

“Bouy?” you hear Nico’s confusion, looking between the two of you, clearly confused.

“We’re not even going there right now, just a stupid nickname from one summer as a kid, not even important. What is important is that I get a drink, ASAP,” you say, once again trying to make your way to the bar.

You walk away from the two men, sights set on an empty spot near the end of the bar. Admittedly, getting a drink seemed way easier in theory than in execution, because no matter how hard you tried, you cannot get the attention of the bartender. You’ve tried waving, yelling, and following her as she makes her way down the line of patrons, but to no avail. You give up with a huff, turning around and leaning your back against the bar, trying to brainstorm how to get a drink in your hand sooner rather than later. “What if I just go take someone’s drink, what would they do then?” you speak aloud to no one other than yourself.

“I would advise against that. Who knows what concoctions some of these people are drinking.”

You whip your head around to find no other than Nico himself standing to your left. You begin to think him sneaking up on people is a habit of his, seeing as this is the second time he’s both surprised you and caught you talking to yourself today.

“You’ve got to stop sneaking up on me, Jesus.”

“Sorry. You just seemed so lost in that head of yours. I’d ask you what you’re thinking, but I’ve learned if I stand here long enough you’ll just say it out loud,” Nico jabs, amusement once again present in his brown eyes. It seems that’s a common occurrence whenever you’re in his presence.

“If you think I speak my mind now, just wait until I actually get a few drinks in me. You’ll be begging me to shut up,” you joke, turning slightly to see if the bartender is anywhere near your area.

“How about we test the theory. Need help?” he asks, challenging your words.

“I mean, be my guest, but I’ve been trying for what seems like forever,” you grumble, moving over slightly to make room for him at the bar.

You watch him stick his hand out, the bartender almost immediately looking over and nodding, signaling she’ll be right over. Your jaw drops. You were a little pissed, honestly. How in the hell did he just do that? You turn your head to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“How in the hell did you just do that?” your mouth mirrors your thoughts.

“Oh y’know, I have my ways,” he says, eyes twinkling, smirk on his lips.

“No, I demand to know. There’s no way I’ve been standing up here for the better part of fifteen minutes with not even a glance in my direction, yet all you have to do is stick your hand out two inches from your face and suddenly you’re next in line,” you spit out, your tone showing your frustration at the situation.

Nico opens his mouth to respond, but a voice from the other side of the bar sounds before he can get a word out.

“Hey, Neeks, what can I get for ya? Your usual?” the woman serving drinks asks, using the same nickname Jack calls Nico.

“Nah, just a Michelob for me tonight. Got morning skate tomorrow,” he tells her, seeming familiar with the woman. She turns to you, giving you the opportunity to really look at the girl. She was short, but not shorter than yourself. She had platinum blonde hair that was tied back into a high ponytail, a pen stuck right through the middle of it. She was wearing a bright green cropped tank top with black leggings. Her make-up was the perfect combination of natural, yet bold. She was….really fucking pretty. Like, intimidatingly pretty. The kind of girl that would make even the most confident of women feel slightly insecure, to no fault of her own.

“Is that all or…?” she trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

“Can I just get a vodka cranberry? Double?” you asked, suddenly regretting your decision to not even wear make-up tonight.

You hear her scoff through a “Of course, coming right up,” before looking at Nico once again, then hurrying off to grab Nico’s beer and your cocktail.

“Is there something wrong with a vodka cran up here? Why the attitude?” you spit out, annoyed that she clearly found an issue with your choice of drink.

“You just have to ignore Jess, she’s a bit of an alcohol snob. Thinks everyone should drink top shelf or not even bother drinking at all,” Nico gives you the girl’s name.

You were going to respond to the fact that the two are on a first name basis, but your drinks arrived before you had the chance. You looked up to thank the girl, Jess as you now know, but shut your mouth when you saw the exchange happening before you.

“Just add it to my tab, Jess. Both of them,” Nico tells her, grabbing the bottle of Michelob sitting in front of him.

“Sure thing, Neeks. If you need anything else just give me a shout. You know where to find me,” Jess lets her hand linger, briefly brushing against Nico’s. You look up to her face, seeing the sultry look in her eyes, her chin slightly dropped. She’s looking at Nico like he’s a meal and she hasn’t eaten in days. Glancing over at the man standing next to you, you notice his entire face is flushed red, up to the tips of his ears.

Your brows shoot up in both surprise and understanding. These two have slept together! Her actions a dead giveaway, albeit subtle. Girls recognize girls, you know? It surely explains why he was so quick to get her attention when you couldn’t even get so much as a glance. You’re fighting against every single muscle in your face to not break out into laughter, finding this amusing for some reason.

“Yeah, gotcha. Thanks, Jess,” Nico replies to the girl, stepping back a few inches from the bar.

You turn and follow him in the direction of the tables from earlier, trying your hardest to not get lost in the crowd of bodies you’re having to weave through.

“So, you didn’t tell me that all I had to do to get the bartender’s attention was sleep with her,” you said, stopping Nico in his tracks.

He turns to look at you, eyes wide and face red, seeming a little embarrassed. You worry you’ve already stuck your foot in your mouth much too early into the night.

“How did you- What makes you think-“ he fumbles over his words.

“I’m a girl, silly. I know when another girl is giving a man the ‘you gave me one of the best nights of my life and I want to do you again’ eyes. Nothing to be ashamed of, she’s gorgeous,” you interrupt, amused at his embarrassment.

You actually think its kind of sweet he seems embarrassed. You half expected him to meet your comments with a smirk and puff his chest out a bit, proud that he’d scored such a beautiful woman, but he’s not. You’ve met plenty of Jack’s previous teammates over the years, most of them cocky assholes that care about nothing more than who they can sleep with next. Never missing the chance to boast to all of his buddies about the blonde chick he managed to sneak into his room last night.

Nico’s response was the complete opposite of that. He almost recoiled at your words, looking like he wanted to crawl under the nearest table he could find and hide there until the end of the night. It’s a refreshing contrast to what you’re used to. You start to feel a little bad for even bringing it up.

Nico stands still, staring at you like he’d rather be anywhere else at the moment, beer forgotten in his hand. You can see the wheels turning in his head on how he’s going to get out of this situation. “Hey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business. I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just used to Jack’s other friends that never shut up about who they sleep with. My filter has a few holes in it I need to patch up I guess. I haven’t even had a drink and I’m already sticking my foot in my mouth-“

“I haven’t slept with her.”

Your mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. You stare at the man in front of you, noticing how he keeps fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. He keeps shifting his weight from foot to foot, switching his beer from left to right to run whichever hand is free through his hair. His eyes keep darting anywhere but your face, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Well if you haven’t then she sure wants to,” you try to backtrack a bit, hoping you can humor your way out of the mess you walked yourself into.

“Yeah, I’m sure she does. Just like she wants to sleep with the rest of the team,” he scoffs out. “Don’t get me wrong, Jess is nice and all, but she hits on all of us. It’s worked on a few of the guys. I’ve seen her drop a few of them off at practice in the mornings, but she never lets it go farther than that. Some of the guys prefer…arrangements like that, but it’s not really my style,” Nico replies, shocking you with his sudden honesty.

“I find it hard to believe that beautiful blondes aren’t your type, but I’ll let it slide for now,” you narrow your eyes, not sure how else to respond to his unexpected candor.

“It seems that my type is talkative strangers, but I’ll let you know if it changes,” Nico tells you with a smirk, his shift in personality giving you whiplash as he walks off without another word.

———————————————————————————

“So, where exactly are you from, Y/N?” you get asked for the fourth time in about 5 minutes from the man sitting to your right. You can’t exactly remember his name, only that he’s drank about 4 beers in the time you’ve been sitting here. Considering Jack went down the line and literally rapid fired names at you once you returned to the tables, you forgive yourself for not remembering.

“Dawson, she already told you three times, dude. She’s from Tennessee!” the man to your left shouts across you a little too loudly. You flinch a bit at just how loud these guys can be, having been shuffled around from conversation to conversation for the past hour, each man reaching a volume you didn’t know was humanly possible.

Jack will come by whatever table you’re currently at about every 30 minutes and tug you in whatever direction he sees fit, going on and on about how you just HAVE to meet so and so because they’ll love you. You love that he’s trying to include you and integrate you into the group dynamic the team has going on, but you really wish he would just let you mingle on your own.

His teammates have been nothing but welcoming and kind, but most of them are more than a few drinks deep and have been talking about whatever upcoming game they have and what strategies they need to improve on, leaving you left out and unable to add anything to the conversation.

“Virginia, actually. But close! I lived right on the border of Tennessee and Virginia, so it’s almost like I’m from both,” you shout back, explaining your origin…again.

“Wait, Virginia and Tennessee border each other?” Mr. four beers questions, Dawson you’ve just learned.

“Mercer you idiot, of course they border each other. Have you ever even looked at a fucking map?” the man to your left responds, reaching behind you and slapping Dawson on the back of the head.

“Ow! I’m from Canada, Johnny! How am I supposed to know? Do you know what Canadian states border one another?” Dawson fires back at the man to your left, Johnny.

“Provinces.”

“What?”

“Canada has provinces, not states, Dawson,” Johnny says, a blank look on his face as he stares at Dawson.

“Fuck you. And your Harvard degree,” Dawson crosses his arms and puffs up like a kid. It’s amusing really, watching the two bicker like siblings.

As the two continue to go back and forth, you can’t help but let your eyes wander around the bar, searching for a pair of brown ones. You haven’t spoken to Nico since he walked away from you earlier, after he all but told you that you were his type. His words took you by surprise, having only known the man for a few hours. You can’t lie and say you didn’t find him attractive from the moment you saw him standing in his doorway this morning, but you can’t let yourself go there, can you? You’ve been in the city less than twenty-four hours. You haven’t even fully unpacked all of your clothes yet, and here you are, unable to get your best friend’s captain off of your mind.

Just as you try to shake the thoughts running through your head, a pair of eyes find yours, causing you to sit up a little straighter. He’s standing at a table with Jack and a man that you remember to be named Timo. He’s Swiss, too, you learned when Jack introduced the two of you. He told you that he and Nico played together before they both found themselves with the Devils, the pair having hockey history.

Nico glances away, only briefly, before finding your eyes again, noticing the two men arguing on either side of you. He raises his eyebrow, as if asking you if you need help, but you just shrug and give a little half smile, rolling your eyes as if to say ‘boys, right?’. He lets out a chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly. You see him exchange a few words with Jack and Timo before stepping away from the table, walking in the direction of the table you’re sitting at.

Just as Nico is only a few steps away, you feel your phone buzzing from where its laying on your thigh. You look at the screen, your mother’s name flashing across the screen. Realizing you hadn’t called her since your plane landed earlier in the day, you decide you should probably take the call.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta take this call,” you slide out from in-between the two hockey players, still arguing away. They don’t even notice your departure, too lost in discussing geography.

You look over to see Nico stop in his tracks, a confused look on his face. You hold up your phone and point to the screen, mouthing the word ‘mom’ before walking over to a secluded corner of the bar for some quiet.

“Hey, mom. Sorry I forgot to call earlier. It’s been a long day,” you sigh, leaning against the cool brick wall.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I just wanted to see how you were settling in. See how the boys were,” she pauses. “Where are you? What’s all that noise in the background?” she questions, slight concern in her voice.

“You know Jack, he wanted to come out and ‘celebrate’ the fact that I live in Jersey now. Tried to get out of it, but Jack never misses a chance to go out. Still have a ton of unpacking to do. I hope to have it all done before too long, though.”

“I should’ve known Jack would be ready to party as soon as you got there. You were always his favorite tag along,” she chuckles, referencing all the time Jack would drag you to various outings and events during the summer.

“Yeah, well this tag along is ready to make her way to her bed for the night, but I have to drive Jack home, so I’ll probably still be here awhile.”

“Honey just tell him you’re ready to go home. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Nah, I can wait it out a little bit longer. He’s too busy introducing me to everyone. He was so excited for me to meet his teammates,” you quickly glance towards where Jack stands. “You’d think I was some local celebrity or something the way he’s been shuffling me from table to table for meet and greets,” you laugh into the phone.

“He’s just happy to have you around again, sweetheart. I know how much you missed him, I’m sure he missed you just as much. He’s just trying to make sure you’re included.”

“I know, I know. It’s sweet, really, I just wish he would’ve let me have a few days before throwing me into a group of drunk hockey players, as usual,” you tell your mom, trying not to sound ungrateful. You do appreciate how eager Jack is to have all his friends meet you, but you’re growing sleepier by the minute.

“Welcome to life with Rowdy…again,” your mom laughs, using Jack’s childhood nickname.

“At least it’s sure to be an interesting one,” you reply, causing her laugh to grow. “Alright, momma, I better go before Jack comes looking for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you,” you say, looking over towards Jack’s table, watching him look around, likely noticing your absence.

“Alright, honey. I love you!” she says, hanging up the phone.

You lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before returning to the chaos of bodies across the room.

“Did Dawson and Johnny really make that bad of a first impression that you’re hiding in a dark corner?”

Yet again, you jump at the voice that seems to be following you around today. You raise your head up and open your eyes, Nico standing a few feet away from you. You simply close your eyes once again and lay your head back against the wall once more, needing another minute to collect yourself.

“You know, I think I’m going to buy you some of those shoes with squeakers in them, that way I can always know when you’re coming,” you tell him, enjoying the feeling of the cool concrete against your head.

All you hear in response is a laugh, which has you raising your head to look at Nico again. You admire the way he scrunches his nose when he laughs, already thinking about how you can coax the sound out of him again.

“Where’s the fun in that now…Bouy, was it?” he recalls your nickname from earlier, earning a glare from you.

“Don’t you even start,” you warn.

“You’re really not going to tell me why Jack called you that? I’ve been trying to get the story out of him for the past two hours. He won’t budge, saying only you can tell it.”

“Trust me, it’s not even worth your time. I don’t even understand why the nickname stuck. They’re all stupid, the lot of them,” you shut down the request.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pry it out of you one day. I’ll solve the Bouy mystery eventually,” Nico persists, not letting the subject drop that easily.

You remove yourself from the wall, sliding your phone into your back pocket. You run your hand through your hair with a huff, preparing yourself to join the others once again.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My mom called, so I figured I’d better take it. A little tired, but I’m all good. Just hope Jack tires out sooner rather than later,” you shrug your shoulders.

“I can give him a ride home if you want to leave? I don’t mind, really. Not like it’s exactly out of the way,” Nico offers.

“No, I should stay. He was really excited for me to meet everyone tonight so I feel like I should at least stay a little bit longer. I don’t want to bail on him this soon.”

“Trust me, if it was up to Jack he wouldn’t leave until they kicked him out,” Nico states, nothing but seriousness in his tone.

“Well, we don’t call him Rowdy for nothing,” you joke. “Speaking of, we’ve been spotted,” you notice Jack making his way over to where the two of you stand.

“Hey, everything alright? I couldn’t find you and Timo said he saw you come over here awhile ago, then said he saw Nico come over here too. You okay?” Jack says as he approaches, glancing towards Nico before looking at you, concern in his tone and on his face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine. Mom called and I came over here so I could here her better, then Nico came to check on me. We were about to come join everyone again, I was just enjoying the quiet for another minute,” you tell Jack, watching the worry fall from his face.

“Oh tell momma Y/L/N that her favorite surrogate son misses her,” Jack brightens at the mention of your mom, both of you viewing the other’s parents as a second set, just as close to them as you were your own.

“I will when she calls tomorrow,” you chuckle, knowing your mom will get a kick out of this conversation.

“I actually came over here to see if you were ready to go? We have morning skate tomorrow and Luke just texted me asking when we were coming home, which usually means he’s lonely and feeling left out, so we should probably get going,” Jack says, surprising you by granting your earlier wishes.

“Oh my god yes, please. I’m so tired,” you sigh, letting your shoulders slump, relieved that you’re only a few minutes away from climbing in your bed.

“I thought so, you looked like you were having a grand time with Dawson and Johnny,” Jack laughs, recalling your earlier position between the two geography enthusiasts.

“They were literally yelling at each other about the geography of the U.S. and Canada,” you told the two men standing with you, both of them breaking out into laughter.

“That’s nothing. Once they argued for a full two hours on if pterodactyl was spelled with a p or not,” Nico adds in, having been silent until now, causing you to be the one filled with laughter.

Jack looks over, seeming to just now remember Nico was also standing with the two of you.

“You need a ride home, cap?” Jack offers, looking over at you with suspicious eyes before looking back at Nico.

“Nah, I’ve only had two beers. I’m good to drive. Plus, I should probably make sure Dawson gets home and in bed. He’s going to regret all those tequila shots when we have to be on the ice at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Exactly why I’m tapping out now. Be careful, Neeks. See you at practice,” Jack tells his captain before turning to you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“Like it’s a hot summer day.”

Jack smiles, the phrase becoming a trademark of yours over the years. You don’t even remember what started it, just that it’s become the signature end to many nights of fun for the two of you. He turns to walk away and you go to follow him before you realized you didn’t say goodbye to Nico. Not wanting to feel rude, you turn around to say your goodbyes to the captain.

“Goodnight, Nico. Have a good practice tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Bouy,” he responds, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face.

Fuck you, Jack Hughes.

[too-deviant]

mdni 🃏 second in command!reader is back and is very pissed off…

you’ve grown accustomed to the plush mattress of the master suite on the princess andromeda — despite never sleeping on it.

you know the best combination of pillows to pile up under your back when luke props you up onto the headboard so you don’t feel that ache in your lower spine from the awkward angle.

you know not to sit too close to the edge of the bed — more towards the middle, so that when luke spreads your thighs so far apart you can feel the burn in the crease of your groin, your knee doesn’t knock against the edge of the nightstand and make you hiss into his mouth.

you know not to grip the fitted sheet between your knuckles because it always comes loose from the mattress whenever you do, so instead you squeeze luke’s hip, scratch on his back.

you also know that the bruises on his knuckles aren’t from inflicting pain on other people, but from slipping his hand in the space between the headboard and the wall to cushion the banging noise that comes from his persistent thrusts into you. you know the blood stains on his t-shirt aren’t from a nasty battle, but from that time you bit into his shoulder so hard you broke skin.

you know that if his right hand twitches at his side, you should ready your spear for a fight, but if his left hand stars twitching, you should start loosening the straps of your armour.

but while you’ve committed all these little ticks to memory, luke remains unpredictable. sure, you know how to decipher the looks he sends you, and what combination of movements will make him cum the hardest.

but when you meet with the newest gaggle of demigods that have deflected from camp half-blood, it becomes a whole new playing field.

because that used to be you — quiet, unsure, new. desperate to please the man who would be your leader. but none of these people could become the next you, because they didn’t know the things you did.

right?

surely not.

but then luke starts sending them on missions — the same ones you went on before you got promoted to better things. he starts waking up earlier so he can watch over their training modules. modules that you used to run, but now he is insistent on taking over.

you weren’t stupid. so which one was it? was it the perky daughter of aphrodite? the rugged but submissive son of ares? which one was luke keeping that special eye on? which one got extra special attention, better missions, time alone with luke in the state room?

you shouldn’t be as bothered as you are — but it’s not jealousy. no, it’s just…worry. you worked too hard to get where you are for some newbie to come along and ruin it for you after two weeks on the ship. they didn’t deserve what you had.

that much was made abundantly clear when luke put you in charge of an extraction mission in washington. what a fool he was, picking the newbies to join your team. they weren’t ready for something so taxing. it took almost a month before you were sent on your first extraction, what was so special about them?

it appeared tyche was on your side that day. you were too angry to think rationally and just went in swinging, not a care for strategy or form. and even though luke’s new bimbos provided zero help, you managed to wrangle yourselves out alive and successful.

you stormed your way back onto the andromeda without so much as a glance in their direction. straight to the state room, straight to where luke was waiting for a mission report.

“did kronos smack you upside the head?”

well, you weren’t giving him a report. you were done — he could do whatever he wanted with his new toys, you didn’t care. but don’t send them on missions they aren’t ready for just because they’re an easy lay. your words were sharp talons, just like he’d taught you — and he stood there and took it. face placid, hands in his pockets, calm and quiet until you were done.

and when you were, he laughed.

that asshole laughed at you. perfect teeth on display, sword swinging as he rocked on his feet in complete hilarity. you could tuck your tail between your legs and walk off, let him dump you.

or you could remind him of all the things you know — all the things his warm bodies would never learn, because they weren’t you.

you’d only seen such visceral shock on his expression once, and that was when percy jackson highjacked the boat. this time, however, it was because you had folded your arms, tilted your head, and told him to take off his pants.

and he did — ah ah, slowly. he unbuttoned his cargos and pushed them to his ankles, all the while holding a sick smirk and even sicker eye contact.

and just before he could remove his shirt on your command, he huffed, “just so you know. i wouldn’t take orders like these from anyone else but you.”

you never did see those demigods again.

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | meddle about (smut blurb)

a/n: MDNI y'all know the drill! no tags for this one. set after now you got me. can be read alone (only thing you need to know is that luke is in a band and calls reader 'five star') or as part of the poisoned mercury series!

song: meddle about by chase atlantic

luke finally let you listen to the song the boys wrote for him. the song was incredible, which was expected, but you relentlessly teased him after connor told you the story about how the song came to be.

“you didn’t know if we were anything?” you asked with an eyebrow raised. luke was brushing his teeth in your bathroom, toothpaste dribbling out the corner of his lips. your face was pressed against his bicep, as you watched his reaction in the mirror. “come on, castellan. i was obvious!” 

luke shook his head, spitting out the toothpaste into the sink as he tangled his fingers with the hand you had wrapped around his torso, “you were not, thank you very much.” 

“aren’t you supposed to know when a girl is flirting with you, mr. rockstar?” 

“you damn near bullied me for months, five star. humbled me every chance you got. you call that flirting?” 

“was i supposed to swoon and tell you how hot you were?” 

“ideally, yes,” he rinsed his mouth with water before turning his body to face you. he held your hips over the t-shirt you wore. it was his shirt and luke was dangerously close to leaving his entire closet with you just so he could see you wear his clothes forever. “would’ve sped up the process of us getting together.” 

“i like the slow burn,” you mumbled, pressing your lips against his own. luke’s grip on your waist tightened as he pressed your back against the counter. his lips were always so soft and he tasted like the spearmint toothpaste you owned. he ran his tongue across your bottom lip, and the innocent kiss became heated. 

luke pulled away for a second, “you gave me like emotional blue balls, five star. i was down bad.” 

“was?” 

“shut up,” he rolled his eyes, smiling. he pressed kisses against your neck, hand traveling under the hem of his shirt. his touch made you shiver. “y’know i’m still down bad for you.” 

you craned your neck, giving him more access to your skin. he nipped at your collarbone, sighing when you made those pretty noises that had him weak in the knees. you lifted yourself up on the counter, opening your legs to let luke slot himself between them. he continued to leave kisses on your skin, slowly pulling down the neckline of your shirt to explore more. 

you tugged on his curls, making him look up at you, “how bad?” 

luke licked his lips, “want me to show you?”

you nodded, running your hands down his chest. your fingers traced the black ink on the side of his torso, making him shiver against your body. his hardening cock was pressing against your inner thigh. luke pushed his groin against yours, trying to convey just how badly you had him wrapped around your finger. just a few words and a few kisses and he was putty in your hands.

"you feel me?" he sighed, closing his eyes as he buried his head in your hair. his senses were filled with you and he felt like he was drunk. you were so intoxicating. your skin smelled like him now since he was always pressed against you in some way. he needed to be near you all the time or he was going to go crazy.

your time in camp half blood was quickly coming to an end, much to luke's dismay, and he was going to make the most out of the few weeks he had left with you. he thinks his first few weeks without you will have him locking himself in hotel rooms fucking his fist to the sound of your voice on facetime and it kills him that he won't get the real thing until god knows when, but he doesn't want to think about that right now.

not while you were still here in front of him with your legs open wide just for him.

"is that enough to show you?" luke asked, sucking on your pulse point. he felt his heart hammering in his chest when you let out a breathy whine. all his blood rushed down to his cock, and soon it was becoming painfully difficult for him to keep his composure.

"no," you replied, pulling him in for a kiss. your lips moved roughly against each others, tongues tangled in a passionate display of affection as his hands massaged the side of your thighs. you were panting against his mouth, already breathless, "need to be convinced some more."

"careful, five star," he tsked, hand traveling to your clothed pussy. he rubbed your clit through the fabric, silently cursing when he felt your slick dampen the pads of his fingers, "i don't think you understand what you're wishing for."

"need you, luke," you mumbled, palming him through his boxers. he groaned at your hand gripping the base of his hard cock. "need all of you."

"you have a filthy mouth, you know that?" his eyes were blown wide with desire. he placed a thumb on your bottom lip, pulling it down a tiny bit. you sucked on his thumb, staring up at him in a way that had his head spinning. you looked so sinful. it was almost sacrilegious how the girl he worshipped was begging for him like this.

"you like it, though."

"don't think the word 'like' covers it," luke admitted, moving his hand to the back of your head to tug on your hair slightly. you extended your neck, letting luke leave a trail of sloppy kisses along your jaw. his tongue pressed against the marks he left on your skin, soothing the burn. "'m addicted to your filthy mouth, five star. makes me wanna fill it up."

"i'm not gonna stop you," you pulled down his boxers, wrapping your hand around his cock. you stroked him slowly, reveling in the raspy groans that left his throat. luke pressed his forehead against yours, watching your hand stroke him through hooded eyes.

"i'm supposed to be showing you how down bad i am for you, not the other way around."

you put a light pressure against the bulging vein on his cock and luke had to bite your shoulder blade to keep himself from being too loud. everyone was home, and while they knew of your relationship, he wasn't gonna be an asshole and subject them to knowing the details of it.

"let me hear you, pretty boy," you cooed, kissing along his scar as you pumped his cock faster. "let me hear how good i make you feel."

"fucking hell, five star," luke chuckled, darkly, bucking his hips. your hand felt too good. "don't wanna cum in your hand."

"in my hand, in my mouth, on my tits," you licked a long stripe down his neck, sucking on his adam's apple. "in me, everywhere luke. want you everywhere."

he was convinced you were going to be the death of him. luke placed a hand over yours, stopping you from your movements. as you opened your mouth to protest, luke lifted you off the counter and planted you in front of him. "get on your knees for me, yeah?"

a wicked grin appeared on your face and luke knew that he wasn't going to last very long. mischief in your eyes always meant that he was going to have another memory to have that'll keep him busy during the months you'd be apart.

you sunk down on your knees, batting your eyelashes at him as you kissed the head of his cock. luke bit his bottom lip so hard he was afraid he'd draw blood. his hands pulled your hair up in a makeshift ponytail as you slowly bobbed your head up and down his cock.

"shit, baby," luke moaned, a dopey look on his face. this is what heaven feels like, he's convinced of it. you were his own personal slice of heaven on earth. "so pretty like this."

you gagged as his cock hit the back of your throat and luke wanted to apologize but this felt too good for him to feel sorry. tears were pooling in your eyes as you sucked him in deeper. your thumb flicked his tip, collecting the beads of precum there, "tell me how you like it, luke. wanna be good for you."

"you're perfect, sweetheart," he replied, wiping the stray tear that escaped your eye. you smiled at him innocently, feeling a sense of pride blooming in your chest. "always so perfect for me, hm? my perfect little five star."

you hummed, going back down to wrap your lips around him. luke let go of your hair and placed his hands on your cheeks, bucking his hips forward. he was fucking your mouth harshly and you loved every second of it. he was panting above you, incoherent words escaping his lips. when you pulled away and licked around him, a string of saliva connected your lips to his cock. it was a glorious sight.

luke was stuck there admiring you make a mess on his cock and if you weren't so fucking turned on by how hot he looked when he was fucked out, you would've teased him about how speechless he was. you stroked his cock, tongue poking out the side of your lips before you spoke, "you like seeing your girlfriend on her knees for you?"

"fuck," luke hissed. it was the first time you referred to yourself as his girlfriend and it was pathetic how that one sentence had him nearing his peak, but he felt possessive. you were his girlfriend now.

"you gonna answer me, luke?" you mumbled, placing kisses along the underside of his cock. "because i like being on my knees for my boyfriend."

"fuck, five star. yes," he panted, screwing his eyes shut. his body felt like it was on fire. "yes, i do, baby."

satisfied with his answer, you took him into your mouth again, moaning as he thrusted deeper. he was losing his rhythm, a sign that he was getting close. luke's eyes stayed glued on your face, committing the sight of your pink lips wrapped around his cock to memory.

with a few more thrusts, he tapped on your hollowed cheeks to signal that he was cumming. he had to steady himself when you refused to pull away, nodding when he asked if he could cum in your mouth. luke came with hot, milky spurts down your throat, loudly groaning your name as he came.

when you swallowed his load, you got up from your knees and pressed your lips against his once more. luke loved tasting his cum on your tongue. he kissed you, not once pulling away, as he led you to your bed. he pushed you on soft bed, getting on his knees to pull your panties down.

you leaned on your elbows as you watched him disappear under the fabric of the shirt you wore. luke pushed up the shirt to where your thighs began, leaving red marks on your skin as he approached your pussy. "my turn."

[queer-little-demigod]

i like me better when i’m with you - luke castellan

summary when a new kid comes to camp, luke gets a bit more stressed than usual, and he goes to his safe space—you.

fic type fluff

pairing luke castellan x fem!Apollo!reader

word count 1.2k

warnings stressed!luke, very much fluff

masterlist

dividers from this post of @cafekitsune ! credits to them and do go check out their posts <3

When people thought of the best swordsman in camp, their first thought was Luke Castellan. The calm Hermes cabin counselor, the one who took every unclaimed camper under his wing. It also meant he was thought of as the only one to beat Clarisse in a fight, the one who had better technique than the others by light years.

But for you, Luke was the sweet boy who brought you flowers every other day, the boy who called you ‘sunshine’ to play around, the boy who held you so gently and kissed you so sweet. To you, Luke was just a soft sweetheart who loved you to the ends of the earth.

But ‘only for you’ as a statement held fast and true with him.

He never acted the same way around other campers the way he acted with you. Not only did they never receive even the slightest easy praise as you did, but they never got that blind trust, that unwavering faith he had in you. Maybe the trust bit was a bit exclusive to Annabeth, but even then that was because they were close. Family.

So it did come to you as a shock when Percy came to camp and that side came out in Luke.

After poor Percy’s unfortunately encounter with Clarisse, you had spotted Luke with him and decided to come over. As the counselor of the Apollo cabin, you additionally decided to help your boyfriend and his new little stray.

“Hey Luke,” you smiled, approaching them both as they talked under the shade of the trees. You leaned your arm against his shoulder, smiling at Percy in a friendly way.

Luke took a second to just look at you. He took in the way the dampened sun kissed your hair, making it shine ever so slightly, the way the shadows fell cleanly on your face to highlight the contours of your face, the way you were so at ease around him and the new camper.

He was so used to seeing you that he only had to take a second to appreciate your features and presence.

“Oh, Percy, meet Y/n, Apollo cabin counselor,” Luke said with a slight smile as he looked at the boy.

You put a hand out to Percy. He did really look like a sweet boy with his soft-looking face, blue-green eyes, and curly gold hair.

“Hey Percy, welcome to camp half-blood,” you smiled. “I’m Y/n, Luke’s girlfriend,”

You could practically hear Luke roll his eyes beside you, his hand resting sneakily against the small of your back as it always did.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” said Percy with a small smile.

“Aw, he’s so sweet for a kid on his first day,” you said, looking at Luke, who laughed a bit and looked down, running a hand through his dark curly hair. “What’re you two up to?”

“Nothing much, sunshine, just trying to find out who’s this guy’s godly parent,” Luke shrugged, looking back at you.

“Nice,” you laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I won’t hold you guys up for too long, though. Don’t worry,”

However, once you left, as usual Luke felt your absence instantly. It wasn’t the literal absence, obviously, which everyone felt, but he always felt like a part of him was missing when he wasn’t around you. As if part of his happiness wasn’t there because in truth, it wasn’t.

It also meant his safe space was not around instantly. It meant that his confidant was too many steps away to be immediate, to be accessible.

So he waited, as always.

He waited for the sun to go down, for the time for responsibilities to go down with it. He waited for the moon to rise, for the sky to turn from cornflower to depthless midnight blue.

The camp was quiet, deathly so, with the distant call of owls from the woods and the rustle of leaves when the scarce wind blew. The night was a mask which cloaked his sounds, his footsteps, his presence, as he walked down the mossy stone pathway into the trees, towards the mirroring lake.

There you sat, the daughter of the sun, looking ever-radiant in the moon’s soft glow. Your body was a silhouette against the silver of the ethereal light, your calculating eyes cast towards the lake, where there seemed another world to mirror this.

Lost in your own thoughts, thoughts which were kept at bay during the sun’s time, you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps, the shift of the pebbles on the lakeside, come up behind you and rest his hands on your shoulders.

“Luke, you scared the hell out of me!” You exclaimed, laughing softly, looking up at him with shining eyes.

He shrugged and sat beside you, leaning back on his palms as his long legs stretched out before him, feet a good way away from the water.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he smiled, looking at you.

Your brows quirked up, amused. “Oh, is that right?”

“Yup,”

“Don’t pop the ‘p’ like that you sound ridiculous,”

“I can never sound ridiculous, I’m too good looking for that,”

“Can’t say I agree,”

He looked at you with mock offence and grabbed you around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he ruffled your hair, ignoring your hushed protests and struggles.

You finally squirmed out of his grip, laughing softly.

“You’re such an ass!” You laughed, shoving him by the shoulder.

He winked at you, smiling in that same mischievous way that reminded you that despite his responsibilities, he wasn’t quite the adult he portrayed himself as. He was just 19, not even at legal drinking age, for gods’ sake.

But he had to admit that your laugh was the sweetest, most beautiful thing he’d ever heard in his life. It felt like the spring’s first sun—warm, gentle, and comforting. Perhaps even familiar, he would say.

“Now tell me what’s wrong, love,” you said, your e/c falling to rest on his own, holding what looked like concern.

Was he being concerning? At least he must be, for you to look at him as if his puppy just got run over…

‘Safe space, Luke,’ he reminded himself. ‘She knows you too well, she gets you,’

He sighed and nodded, “Well, for starters, Percy’s still unclaimed and will not let the whole ‘where is my dad’ thing go,”

“Baby, he’s 12, of course he’s in shock, he can’t just let things go,” you said.

Of course, Y/n L/n, the voice of straightforward reason.

“I know but…” he sharply let out a breath, trying to find the words which were on the tip of his tongue but were stuck in his throat. “He’s just…he’s not accepting things the way they are. He’s so damn persistent, constantly questioning the way things work.”

You moved closer to him, moving such that you could sit behind him and pull him close to you, letting his back rest against you while your legs stayed on either side. He felt your hands start to play with his curls, fingertips running over his scalp gently.

His whole body tingled, his skin warmed from your touch. Not only was it because you kept your own skin a little warm on cold nights like this but because of how soft you were with him, because of how gentle your touch was. Because he felt a blush creep along his cheeks at the familiarity of the gesture, at how affectionate you were.

“But look, it means that I’m answering questions that no other camper’s asked me before, and I don’t know how I feel about that…unpredictability,” he explained, staring out at the lake. “Plus with day after’s capture the flag and with my training schedule being booked up back to back, I cannot handle those questions because they need time to be thought over and I don’t have that kind of time,”

Your hands in his hair paused as an amused tone came with your words, “…is Luke Castellan admitting to me, Y/n L/n, that he’s stressed? You stressed, baby, is that it?”

He laughed at the way you talked, like he was a child, with that sweet tone, higher pitch, and general air of playfulness.

“No, I’m not,” he protested, looking up at you, a small smile dancing on his lips as he laughed softly.

Gods, his laugh was everything. You enjoyed the rise and fall of it, his deep voice vibrating through your body with how close he was. It wasn’t explosive, nor was it polite. It was just him being a kid, him being himself, unrestrained by the image of a calm and reserved counselor that he had on most of the time.

“That’s a lie,” you smirked, giggling softly, tilting his head back so he could look at you properly.

He smiled a bit, as your finger traced up the line of his scar, and he stuck his tongue out at you jokingly.

“Fine, tell me more. Get it all of your chest,” you winked, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly.

So he talked all his worries away, till the moon rose high and the water stopped rippling. He talked till his throat ran dry and his eyes started to droop as sleep’s staying caress enveloped you both.

“We should get back,” you yawned, feeling him sit up and out of your arms.

He nodded, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Yeah, we should…”

He, as a gentleman, stood up first and helped you up, smiling at you as you dusted yourself off and followed him back through the quiet woods and to the cabins. You looped your hand through the crook of his elbow, resting your head against his shoulder affectionately every now and then, smiling up at him.

The trees weren’t as quiet as the night, nor was the grass, as the crickets chirped softly amidst the foliage, and the leaves rustled with the slightest bit of wind that danced through them.

“Can I bother you for a little kiss before we go back to our cabins?” You asked, standing in front of him at the split in the road which led to the Apollo cabin and Hermes cabin.

Luke thought about it for a moment just to tease you, earning a whack on the arm from your end and a laugh.

“Obviously,” he chuckled, pulling you closer by your wrist, his other arm coming up to encircle your waist, as your head tilted up for your lips to meet his in a soft kiss.

His hand left your wrist to cup your cheek while your arms rested around his neck, holding him such that he stayed down a bit to your level. Your lips moved in sync, the action already a habit with the number of times you both had kissed in the past two years of you both dating.

Despite that, butterflies erupted in your stomach at the way his lips felt against yours, the way he held you so tenderly.

Once air became a problem you both had to pull away, and a light blush dusted your cheeks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then,” you smiled, winking at him.

“No doubt, sunshine,” he smiled back, ruffling your hair gently, earning a sound of protest from your end as well.

“You know I hate that nickname,”

“Too bad, sunshine,”

All you could do was roll your eyes and press a soft kiss to his cheek before turning back and heading back to the Apollo cabin on soft cat feet, making little noise as you fell into your covers, giggling softly at the ghost feeling of his lips back on yours.

Stuff was better when he was with you.

Hi! I t’s me, Lea! I hope you liked this imagine, feel free to request <3 the ending is a bit eh but otherwise I hope you liked it <3