#final fantasy 17 ENOUGH!!!

[moonilit]

Hironobu Sakaguchi: im going to creat a narrative driven franchise that will paint beautiful words and emotions, themes that make people wonder, what is humanity place in this universe, their loses, their fates, their moralities

Square Enix: so we put a coin in this and it give us money? *shake violently* come on! Give us millions!

[astrxealis]

it's pretty hard to find more like minded people who like ffxiv esp as a minor & in ph ;; but i know quite a few! not any in my country bcs :") but my twin & my 2 irls i got into it <3 so like. idk but maybe i cld make a discord q-q ( oh gods warning for tags. very long ,,, )

[kamaluhkhan]

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

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

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

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

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

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

♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo

(i. he had a savior complex) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it. 

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

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

your eyelids fluttered open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you feeling okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“luke.”

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

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

“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him. 

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

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

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

“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”

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

“it’s…you. you’re….okay?” 

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

you gripped his wrist to steady him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you refused to lose hope. 

no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.

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

“but —” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“thanks, karma.”

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

“what happened? did clarisse —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(ii. he had an ego)

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

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

“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“nice work, rodriguez.” 

"we're going out tonight?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen. 

“well, we aren’t.” 

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

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

“cowards?” you suggested.

silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”

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

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

“i am not a coward.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.

“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.” 

you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.

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

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

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

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

"i don't owe you anything." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your fingers tightened into a fist.

“that is not —”

“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”

“luke, what are you —”

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

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

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

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

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

“see what i mean?”

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

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

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

rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded. 

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

luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.

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

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

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

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

that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.

“what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.

"what about the redhead?"

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

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

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

luke turned towards the exit.

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

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

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

it made you want to kiss him all over again.

(iii. he lied without flinching)

you couldn’t find luke anywhere. 

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

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

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

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

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

“actually, we were just —”

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

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

luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance. 

“i already said no. end of discussion.”

“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.

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

“okay, seriously. what’s —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sitting down next to him, you sighed.

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

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

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

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

“what?”

he leaned in close, voice low.

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

“no. no. she wouldn’t —”

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

“we all are,” you pointed out.

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

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

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

luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you felt him chuckle against your skin.

“since when do you care about that?” 

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

"that’s only if we get caught." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yes, sweetheart?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“eyes up here, beautiful.” 

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

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

you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.

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

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

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

luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too. 

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

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

“do you see my shirt there?”

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

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

you placed your hands on his cheeks. 

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

“luke, baby, look at me.”

when he finally did, your heart ached. 

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

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

“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sparring?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

as if either of you could forget marathoning the entire twilight saga with your friends, the six of you squeezing onto the small couch in the big house, sharing one bowl of popcorn and endless cups of coffee to stay awake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re so beautiful," you cooed, nails scraping against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen.

“this is the skin of a killer, bella!” he mimicked.

you laughed at the reference, but when luke seemed to realize what he said, you swore you felt his grip tightening on your hips, though you didn't know why.

“i never want to hurt you,” he finished the sentence you had interrupted earlier.

“you won’t.” 

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

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

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

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

in the words of bella swan: he was the one you were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with. 

except your life wasn't some cliché yet endearing love story about fictional vampires and werewolves. 

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

(v. he made you look so naive)  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vi. he was a vice you could never shake

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you missed —

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

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

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

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

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

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

think of the devil, and he shall appear.

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

you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken. 

i can’t stand to hear your name

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

it was just that — a bad feeling, right?

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

oh baby, you really blew it.

the song ended, and your blood ran cold.

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

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

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

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

“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”

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

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

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

“because i’m alone.”

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

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

luke tried again. 

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

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

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

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

your eyes grazed luke carefully.

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

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

“no. you don’t get to just —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i know….i fucked up, karma.”

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

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

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

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

luke stared at you. you glared back at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

baby. you could have laughed. 

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

kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed. 

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

“that’s not my home.”

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

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

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

you stepped in front of luke. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you were definitely out of practice. 

“kelli!” 

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

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

luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“okay, we need to get you —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

bad habits were always the hardest to break.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke knelt down in front of you. 

“can i take your shirt off?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“wait. what happened?”

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

“luke.”

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

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

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

“can i take this off?”

luke nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

you couldn’t help but add that last part. 

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

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

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

luke just had to make everything so complicated.

“they’re fine, all things considered.”

you didn’t offer anything more, anything less. 

he was quiet for a moment.

“you seem to be doing alright, though?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke caught your wrist before you could leave. 

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ll do it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“no kissing,” he warned. 

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

luke swallowed thickly.

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

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

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

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

luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate. 

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

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

“yes. please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re such a —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck it. please — kiss me.”

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

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

“please,” luke pleaded once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

maybe that was true.

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

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

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

"i guess not."

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

"how's your shoulder?" 

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

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

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

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

"i love you too.”

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

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

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

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

[matrixbearer2024]

✨ Masterlist ✨

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader Series: - Get Off My Screen! [Reader's POV] - I'm On Your Screens. [Vox's POV] - Blips In My Routine [Interlude 1] - Enough With The Schemes! [Interlude 2] - You're Just Being Mean! [Interlude 3] - TikTok Trending, Posts and Memes [Interlude 4] - Oops, Guess I Spilled the Tea [Interlude 5; Vox POV] - You Could Do Better(With Me) [Interlude 6; Vox POV] - Old Times Gone By [Interlude 7] - Oh Shut Up Vee! [Interlude 8] - What a Jelly TV [Interlude 9] - Get That Shit Off My Screen! [Interlude 10] - Sing-Song Shenanigans [Interlude 11] - Troubles Unforeseen [Reader's Death] - Reunited Again Aren't We? [Vox's POV on Reader's Death]

- Nostalgic Memories [Drabble 1] - Roller Rinking, Dancing And Dreaming [Interlude 12] - Clubbing Catastrophe [Interlude 13] - A Heart's Conundrum [Aftermath of Interlude 13, Vox POV] - Party Games Aplenty [Interlude 14] - Karaoke Cacophony [Interlude 15] - I Hate Mondays [Interlude 16] - Muddled Morality [Interlude 17] - Hate And Love, A Fine Line [Drabble 2]

- Small Subtleties [Interlude 18]

- Video Gaming, Competitive Raging [Interlude 19]

- Once Bitten, Twice Shy [Drabble 3]

- Just A Dream [Interlude 19; Slightly NSFW]

- Did You Tell Them? I Tried. [Interlude 20] - Deers and Dogs Don't Mix [Interlude #] - Violence, Virtues and Vark? [Interlude #] - Movie Nights and Pillow Fights [Interlude #] - [Genuinely depending on whether people have ideas or stuff they wanna see I might add more HAHAHAHAH] - Nothing Left In Between [Finale] Tiny!Vox x Reader Series: - Paws and Pixels: VoxPet™️ - Pocket-sized Partner: VoxPet™️ Care Guide [Headcanons]

- Magic and Mayhem: Hazbin Crew x Elf!Reader - Possible chapter coming soon Actor AU: Hazbin Crew x Reader [Can now be found @hhactorauofficial]

- Shifting Management [ANNOUNCEMENT]

Vox AI Covers:

- Accidentally In Love, It's Gonna Be Me, Jet Lag, Heaven By Your Side, Like A Rose

- Still Into You

- 命里缺個你

Other Vox Fics: - Glass Breaks (Vox x gn!afab!Reader; NSFW) - Flustered Fanatics (Soft!Vox x Easily Flustered!Reader; SFW) - Comfort Cuddles (Vox x fem!Reader; SFW) - Vox x Reader Headcanons: Fellatio Fantasy (Headcanon list; NSFW)

- Vox x Reader Headcanons: Fiancé Edition (Headcanon list; SFW & NSFW)

- The Temptation Tango (Vox x Fem!Reader; NSFW)

Other Fics:

- A Familiar Face (Husker x OC)

[imfinereallyy]

Passengers

It took Robin three years to get her license. Which all things considered, the twice apocalyptic experiences, and, ya know, being poor, wasn’t too bad in her opinion.

20 was as good as any age to get behind the wheel of a vehicle.

Okay, if she was honest with herself, really honest, maybe her calculations were off. It wasn’t three years exactly. She could have gotten her license at 16; hell, she could have gotten her permit at 15. So it quite honestly had taken four, five years max to get her license.

But the first two years didn’t count to Robin.

She didn’t even give a thought to driving until she was 17, and Steve was driving her every day without question. She hadn’t thought about it until Steve threw his keys at her, telling her to drive, that Robin realized he was driving her every day because he wanted to, not because she was a license-less loser.

It cracked Robin open when she finally had time to think about it. After all the blood, and gore, and almost losing Steve several times, it hit her that this dingus really wanted her by his side.

So, Steve was really to blame if she ever got into a car accident. Sure, he didn’t push her to get behind the metal contraption, but Robin wanted to pay him back somehow, for all the rides and love over the years.

That was how now, Robin was seething in regret as she drove the rest of the way home, in the dark, from their road trip.

See, when Robin had pictured them doing things like this, it had just been the two of them. Steve in the passenger seat, arguing over music and the best car snacks. Windows down, yelling about who fucking cares, and just laughing their way through different states.

Robin hadn’t taken into account there might be other people involved in her bestie road trip fantasies. No, instead, it wasn’t the terrible two, platonic soulmate extravaganza she pictured. Instead it now involved them, Steve’s ex-turned-best friend, whom Robin had a horrible crush on, Nancy Wheeler, and a sweet metalhead who Robin saw as a brother, and Steve had a huge soul-consuming crush on Eddie Munson.

Robin begrudgingly would admit the additional two had made the trip better, so she didn’t have too many complaints. Actually, in reality, Robin only had one big hang-up about the whole thing.

Steve was in the back seat.

Which would have been fine if Robin had been there too, but she wasn’t. It was her stupid turn to drive in the home stretch of their way home. Instead, Robin had Nancy beside her. Which should have brought her joy but instead made her nervous and clammy and not at all suited to be behind the wheel of the death contraption they called a car. Plus, Nancy was asleep.

Her snores were pretty cute though.

Robin seethed silently; it was Eddie’s fault. He positively insisted on sitting with Steve in the back. Something which Robin would normally tease the both of them for, the oblivious idiots that they were, but Robin was a possessive little creature. It was a trait of hers she tried to bury deep down. She knew people didn’t like that; they didn’t like when people clung. Didn’t like that she felt like baring her teeth, even sometimes wanted to actually bite at people who tried to pry her people away from her.

It was funny, really; the only person who understood that part of her was Steve himself, which made her possessive side come out even more. Like seeks like, and crazy seeks crazy.

God, if she was every lucky enough to get a girlfriend, she was screwed.

Robin had resisted looking in the review mirror for twenty minutes. Probably not safe, but driving angrily wasn’t either, and if she saw the two of them giggling like school girls, she was gonna flip the car.

But Robin was never good at resisting temptation. She was most definitely the child who would touch the plate after someone told her it was too hot. So Robin took a glance, shoulders tense and mouth dry, and saw—

Well, shit. Robin melted. There in the back seat with their heads leaned against each other were Steve and Eddie, sound asleep.

The edges of Robin softened; she remembered Steve pinching his nose earlier, eyes squinting on his turn to drive. She had been in the passenger seat then. She had wanted to ask but instead said nothing, knowing he would wave her off. So she claimed her turn to drive, and then Eddie had been insistent that Steve come in the back with him and—

Robin was getting it now. Although Eddie had a big fat gay crush on Steve. That wasn’t why he wanted to be with Steve in the back. He had noticed, too. The edges of sleep deprivation creeping slowly into an oncoming migraine for Steve. Eddie had seen Steve pushing himself, and somehow also knew that if Steve stayed in the front, he would feel obligated to stay awake.

Robin hadn’t realized that, Eddie didn’t just want Steve; he paid attention to him. Eddie noticed Steve the way Robin noticed him.

Robin spared another glance at the two of them, wrapped around each other like vines snaking up an old oak tree. The last of her anger seemed to fade away. Even after all this time, none of them got a lot of sleep. Steve, most of all, seemed to run on fumes. Robin knew he couldn’t sleep soundly alone, but also couldn’t fall asleep around just anyone. For a long time, Robin had been his only cure for his insomnia. Steve never dared to fall asleep in front of strangers, afraid he’d scare them with his screams.

But here Steve was, in the arms of the man that he loves, not a single worry line on his face as he slept the rest of the trip away.

Robin knew, with certainty, Steve felt safe.

And because of that, Robin thought wistfully to herself, if Eddie Munson ever wants a turn at being a passenger, she wouldn’t mind taking the wheel for him, too.

***

a short lil thing to get me back in my writing grove. Is inspired by a friend of mine who is in her 20s and doesn’t drive. It’s totally okay and everyone moves at their own pace! And also I’m definitely a person who likes to drive others around as a sign of love (I am Steve coded I am beginning to realize)

Sorry if this isn’t any good, or seems rushed. Writers block is a bitch.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

15, 16, and 17 for Ghost with a fem! reader who finally convinces him to be more rough in bed??💕💕

15. So beautiful with my hand around your neck

16. Be good and swallow for me.

17. You feel that? That’s all me

It took you forever to finally convince Simon of your fantasies, but you actually did it. You’ve dreamt of it, you’ll never admit it but when you were alone in the shower you’ve cum to the fantasy of his hand wrapped around your throat, and it’s the only orgasm you’ve given yourself that was even remotely close to the highs Simon has brought you to.

Now here you are, say so fucking pretty on your knees, your nose pressed against the tight curls above his cock, your jaw sore but fuck, you can’t get enough. His fingers are tangled in your hair, he’s merciless, moving your head how he wants you, just using you, fucking your throat while the prettiest noises come out of his mouth.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.” He moaned, head thrown back against the wall, hips thrusting to fuck himself deeper down your throat, “Don’t fuckin’ stop.”

You never would, even with tears building on your lash line, cunt throbbing, you never would. He pulled you off him with a pop,

“On your back, legs spread, now.” He panted, heart hammering. He hummed in amusement at how quickly you scrambled onto the bed, he climbed between your legs and lined himself up with your entrance, thrusting in a single movement. Your back arched at the delicious intrusion,

“Fuckin’ hell, woman.” He groaned, you held your legs open for him, chest heaving, moans and pleas spilling from your lips, drool pooling in the corner of your mouth. He rolled his hips and you cried out, moans breathy and whiny. He grabbed your jaw roughly, fingers squishing your cheeks,

“Open.”

You did as you were told, eyes wide, tongue lolling out. His heady gaze met yours as he opened his mouth a wet glob of spit landed on your tongue,

“Be good and swallow for me.”

You did as you were told, moaning like a whore the entire time, his thrusts were merciless, well aimed, making your tits bounce at the sheer force of them. His hand released your jaw, traveling lower until his palm rested against the warm column of your throat where he squeezed, you damn near came on the spot,

“So beautiful with my hand around your neck.”

His free hand grabbed one of your hands and brought it to your abdomen, where you felt the ridges of him from inside you,

“You feel that? That’s all me.” And then he pressed down and you bowed off the bed, your other hand clawing at his arm, it was too much, the searing hot band in your stomach was going to snap, higher and higher he pushed you,

“Fu-uck, Si- please- can’t hold-”

“You can and you will, I’m just getting started, pet.”

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

⭒❃.✮:▹ holiday hoes

“so if you’re keen to listen, here’s an offer i’ll propose. let me work and i’ll provide you with a touch o’ that gold!” —liquid gold, lackadaisy

❝for the christmas spirit I’m going to be doing something… special, this year~

for the following days, i’ll be challenging myself to write an nsfw prompt that’s holiday related, based on the prompt list i gave myself. the masterlist will be posted soon enough, so stay tuned~❞ —kosmo

the list will update as each day passes. all fics are NSFW and must be read with caution!

ALL readers are gender neutral, however some fics may have gendered body language.

┅✦┅

✿ prompts ✿

1. “all dolled up” — phantom x reader, lingerie

- you wanted to look extra pretty for phantom on the holiday season

2. “a different kind of warmth” — swiss x reader, cockwarming

- when the icy cold temperatures hits, swiss has his own unique way of warming you up

3. “gingerbread houses” — aurora x reader, food play

- what a fun little activity to do with aurora! surely she won’t have any other ideas in mind… right?

4. “red ribbon” — rain x reader, bondage

- there was leftover ribbon from gift wrapping that you decided to use, and maybe you’re just the best gift for rain

5. “naughty list” — terzo x reader, spanking

- how sad… you ended up on the naughty list, looks like papa terzo will have to ingrain some discipline into you

6. “candle queen” — sodo x reader, wax play

- the scent of the candles just made this year extra cozy, maybe sodo has some tricks up his sleeve for how to make things cozier

7. “frosted windows” — cirrus x reader, mirror sex

- the fogged windows are perfect places to trace pretty little shapes on, cirrus however has a different shape in mind

8. “come watch me play” — vessel x reader, exhibitionism

- vessel likes to put on a show for the christmas cheers. what kind of performance does he have in mind?

9. “unwrap your present” — cumulus x reader, stripping

- you came home from a long day of work, just finally getting that well deserved vacation. cumulus has a pleasant surprise waiting for you

10. “festive little fantasies” — copia x reader, toys

- your gift for copia surely got him excited….

11. “picture perfect” — iv x reader, aphrodisiacs

- ivy was not expecting this little christmas get together to get all.. steamy.. but now he has you all to himself

12. “not so angelic” — omega x reader, corruption kink

- the little angel that came down from heaven to spread the joyous spirit… surely omega won’t try anything

13. “holiday blow” — iii x reader, blowjob

- as iii is writing letters to his loved ones, you decided to give him a little treat underneath his desk

14. “stuffed like a present” — mountain x reader, cum bulge

- mountain wants to give you something that’ll leave you completely filled

15. “nice list” — secondo x reader, praise kink

- what a good pet you’ve been… and it looks like secondo has taken notice

16. “blind to the light” — ii x reader, blindfolding

- ii wanted to add more spice to the bedroom for this year, and spoil you prettily for his holiday affairs.

17. “give you more” — zephyr x reader, overstimulation

- you decided to be extra generous to zephyr, and assist him when he’s in dire need of some love and affection

18. “my special gift” — sunshine x reader, thigh riding

- sunshine has a special way of showing off what’s hers.

19. “miss me on holiday season” — aether x reader, sexting

- aether is away for the festive spirits, that doesn’t stop you from missing him though

20. “just this once” — ifrit x reader, hate sex

- stuck in a log cabin with an old enemy, except ifrit’s been feeling extra lonely this christmas

21. “take me to church” — swiss x reader, blasphemy kink

- christmas is all about celebrating the birth of jesus… swiss wants to show you off to him

22. “forever ingrained” — vessel x reader, photography

- a new polaroid camera? vessel is getting a few ideas on what to do with it…

23. “christmas tree” — phantom x reader, public sex

- while searching for the perfect christmas tree, phantom finds himself needing some attention

24. “sharing is caring” — sodo and rain x reader, threesome

- sodo and rain learn to share their special gift

25. “merry christmas” — all era iv ghouls x reader, fuck party

- the ministry is all decorated in festive decor and it truly feels like the holidays are in season! now… what do these ghouls want to do with you?

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 17

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: I just get this urge!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

The best night of your life passes in a haze of vibrant afterglow, intermingled with spurts of fiery passion. For as much as you can’t get enough of Jonathan, he can’t get enough of you. You forget about the world; about fatigue and responsibilities. There is only each other, only that desperate need to touch, kiss, and moan.

When at last you surrender to exhaustion, your dreams are tinged with visions of reality. Hard muscle, soft lips, and tender whispers. You sway on a tide of pleasured delirium until finally, the wave crests. You sink back down the waking world, your eyes fluttering as morning light stains the wall yellow.

You could swoon. You can’t believe it’s real. After the weeks of tension, fear, and stress, last night feels like no less than a fantasy. You slowly roll onto your back and reach blindly, daintily touching the figure beside you. Nope, he’s very real.

You look at Jonathan, his tall finger stretched across the mattress. One leg bent, one arm tucked under the pillow. His chest rises and follows in a rhythmic breath. His bare chest. The chest you just couldn’t stop grabbing and clawing as he… did wonderful things.

His cheek dimples as he smirks without opening his eyes, “do I have bedhead?”

“What?” You squeak, caught in your admiration. “Uh, no.”

He gives a rocky chuckle and turns onto his side. He hooks his arm around you and wiggles closer before you can fall onto your back. You gasp and brace his arm, letting your thumb rub the bulging muscles of his bicep.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“N-nothing,” you sputter.

He searches you with his blue-green eyes and a furrow pinches between his brows, “are you certain?” His blond lashes flick, “you don’t regret… last night?”

“No, no! Never,” you plead with him, letting your hand trail up to your shoulder, cheeks blooming with heat as you swallow a giddy squeal, “promise, I don’t. I couldn’t.”

He grins even bigger, “oh, I know, I just wanted to hear you say it,” he leans in and nuzzles his nose against yours.

“You… know? How?” You murmur, suffocated by his proximity.

“The noise you made, darling,” he growls and tilts his head to kiss you, long and hungry, pulling away with a nibble of your lower lip, “like a symphony.”

“Oh,” you utter bashfully.

“Might I hear them again?” He brushes his fingers down your side.

“I…”

“You won’t have to do a thing, darling,” he eases you onto your back as he kisses your lips again. 

He makes a path along your cheek and jaw, down to your throat as you gasp again. You clutch the loose bedsheet as your spine arches. His doting progress traces along your chest and stomach as he gently parts your legs. He kneels between them, lifting his head to look at you as he kisses the inside of your thigh, inspiring a quiver.

“You only have to sing for me, fawn,” he breathes as he edges closer to your vee, “mmm, darling…”

His nuzzles your cunt and his tongue glides between your folds. You moan and dig your nails into the mattress. Your toes curl and your muscles coil. The knot of pleasure begins to tangle again, longing for him to untie it. You close your eyes and let your head loll, succumbing to his diligent tending.

🌼

After another romp, or several, you give in to the day and beg Jonathan to let you out of bed. He does, reluctantly, as the same reticence slows your steps. You rinse off in the bathroom, surpassing a shower for the time in favour of coffee. He whisks past you as you emerge, a lingering touching on your hips as he does.

You go to the kitchen and rinse out the carafe to start a pot. You pause as you place it on the burner. Would he rather tea? You should’ve asked.

He surprises you as he appears, dressed, his hair slightly damp as he combs his fingers through it. His shirt is slightly wrinkled and there’s an ugly crease in his slacks. He’s unbothered by his uncharacteristic disarray.

“Ah, you just relax,” he comes to you and takes the empty carafe, setting it in the machine. “I will go down to the cafe and fetch us breakfast,” he kisses your head before he pulls away, checking his watch, “they’ve a lavender latte I’ve heard rave reviews about. Would you like to try it?”

“Oh, you don’t need to do all that. I have eggs in the fridge–”

“Ah ah,” he waves his hand, “I won’t hear of it.”

“Really, I–”

“Darling, I must warn you, I don’t think you quite know what you’ve signed up for,” he winks, “I won’t let you trouble over me. I’m not that type. Let me take care of you. You deserve that after all that’s transpired.”

“Jonathan,” you say.

“Mmm, say it again,” he drawls as he cups your chin.

“Jonathan,” you repeat more firmly. “That cafe is expensive–”

“Don’t worry for it,” he shakes his head and lays another kiss on your head, “stay and relax. You had a long night.”

Your brows pop up at his insinuation. For someone who always came across so proper, he can be coy. You shrug and relent.

“Fine,” you agree, “thanks, and er, yeah, I suppose I could try the lavender.”

“Wonderful,” he grins before his demeanour greys and he brings a long finger up, “lock the door.”

“I will,” you avow, the stone plummeting back into the depths of your heart. Oh yeah.

“And call me should you need me,” he demands. You nod as you chew your lip.

You follow him to the door, in only a long tee with Tigger on the front, and find your keys. You hand them over and he steals another kiss before he goes. You are quick to turn the latch, watching through the peephole as he lingers for a moment, eyeing the door with distaste.

He leaves at last and you back away. Somehow you forgot about it all. The carving on your door, your suspension, and lunch with your mother. The afterglow evaporates entirely as you come back down to earth.

You grab your phone and check your notifications. There’s a missed call from your mother and another from your sister. You pace around the front room as you ponder what to do. You return to the bedroom and look at the twisted sheets and the blanket hanging half off the side.

You put your phone down and tidy up the bed. You pull the mattress sheet taut and shake out the pillows. You spread the top sheet and replace the duvet on top. You twiddle your fingers restless and spin to sit on the edge. Your phone lights up suddenly, buzzing on the night table.

You swipe it up and answer, your sister’s name glancing across the screen before you bring it to your ear.

“Hey,” you eke out.

“So,” Geri begins in her way, “I guess that means you want a plus one.”

“What?” You sputter.

“I figured you’d be coming alone so I didn’t factor in the extra plate. So, plus one?” She continues as if you hadn’t said a word.

“What do you–”

“Mom told me about your boyfriend,” she nearly scoffs, “she said he’s charming. Of all things. Just make sure he wears a tie, okay?”

“Ger, I– if it’s a big deal–”

“No, it’s not,” she dismisses, “besides, I don’t need you moping on my special day, the way you do. It’s about time you found someone.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“And your bridesmaid’s dress. Champagne is the colour scheme. Satin preferably. I’ll send a pic of what the other girls got,” she bowls you over again. She is, of your sisters, the most like your mother. “No flats, okay? This isn’t a ballet.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t do that,” she sneers, “and you’ll be at the rehearsal dinner. You’ll need a dress for that too…”

She begins to rant. As you try to keep up, you frown. You hope you’re never a bride, it seems like a lot of work. If you did get married, you’d be just fine signing the paper at the courthouse. You chew your thumb and nod dumbly along.

“Are you listening?” She snaps curtly.

“Yeah, just making notes,” you lie.

“Mom was saying she never hears from you. None of us do…”

Again you drift away. Like the lunch with your mother, you’re just a punching bag for all their gripes. Somehow, even your younger sisters make their problems yours. You pick at the hem of your shirt and muddle through the shopping list of Geri’s complaints.

A thump makes you flinch. You can’t help but squeak as you glance over at the wall. You squint. What was that? It comes again. Your focus completely cracks.

“Geri,” you interrupt, “I’ll have to call you back.”

“What? I’ll be at work.”

“Then call me when you’re not. I gotta go.”

You hang up as the thumping continues. The tempo slowly builds and there’s a creaking interwoven with the heavy bumps. Then voices come, permeating the adjoined wall. The very one you share with Ally. You cover your mouth in shock.

Her shrill cries intermix with the banging, what you can only assume is the bed frame. It’s nothing you haven’t heard before but much more intense. It’s usually subtle enough to drown out. And another voice, deeper. Both so loud it can only be deliberate.

You grip your phone tight and stumble out of the room. You shut the door, blocking out the cacophony. It can’t be an accident. You know that much.

You go back to the living room and tuck yourself into the corner of the couch. You stare at your phone but do nothing. You’re too shaken to even scroll through Insta.

You shouldn’t feel this way. Your chest shouldn’t hurt. Not because of him. You have Jonathan now so why does the idea of Colin being with her still feel so bad? You’re horrible.

You drop your phone on the cushion and turn your face down, hiding in your hands as you sniffle. Jonathan’s gone to get you breakfast and you’re here about to cry over another man. You are rotten and stupid and weak.

The lock grinds loudly and the door opens. You snap your head up and listen as Jonathan enters. The door closes and you hear him shuffling before he appears. You try to smile but your cheeks only twitch. You get up to take the tray of drinks from him.

“Here, let me help,” you say sheepishly.

You turn and set down the cardboard tray, the aroma of lavender wafting up to tickle your nose. You’re shaking. Jonathan comes up behind you and places the paper bag next to the cups, pressing himself to your back. He kisses your crown as he hugs.

“Darling, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” you croak.

“You’re a very poor liar,” he girds, “and I’m not fond of dishonesty.”

“Sorry, I… my sister called,” you sniff, not quite a lie, “she wants me to get a dress. Two, actually, and…” You carefully detach from him and cross your arms, striding across the living room, “and there’s an engagement party and my mother told her about you–”

“Is that a bad thing?” He wonders as he opens the paper bag.

“No, I didn’t mean that,” you insist, “it’s only… a lot.”

“Surely, you planned on attending your sister’s wedding,” he intones, “and now you won’t have to do so alone. Are you not happy?”

“Of course, I guess… I’m nervous,” you try to shake off the grayness. You near him again as he holds out a cardboard container.

“It’s what they call a breakfast bowl. I wasn’t sure if you liked avocado so I had them put it on the side.”

“Oh, thank you, that’s very… thoughtful,” you make yourself smile, even though it hurts.

You go to the small table set against the wall between two chairs and place your breakfast there. You sit as he follows, setting down a tall cup beside the container. You thank him again. You peel off the lid and look at the foam, the pattern in it not the typical brown but a shade of lilac.

“Looks so good,” you murmur.

“It does,” he puts his own food on the other end of the table but doesn’t sit. “Eat, eat.” He commands with a flick of his fingers.

“Uh, okay, aren’t you gonna–”

“In a moment,” he steps past you, his eyes set on the living room. 

You tense as you hear buzzing but you don’t dare turn back. He strides away as you peer down at the latte. He returns and sits across from you with your phone. He narrows his eyes at the screen as he reads the last notification as it vibes.

“What are you doing?” You reach for your phone but he keeps it out of your grasp.

“‘Hope you enjoyed the show’,” he reads out. “What show is this?”

“I don’t– who–”

“Ally, so the message says, but I do wonder if it truly is her,” his eyes meet yours sharply. “What does she mean?”

You drop your chin and take a breath. You slump down and talk to the table, “they were… being loud. When you were gone.”

“Ah,” he accepts, “and you listened?”

“N-no, I heard but I came out here so I couldn’t.”

He taps his thumb on the screen as he looks at it again. He huffs and turns it towards you but keeps a tight grip, “unlock it.”

“Huh?” You bat your lashes.

“Unlock the phone.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making certain you are safe, as I have done,” his tone turns rigid, “haven’t I?”

“Yes, but–”

“And you trust me, yes?”

“I do, but Jonathan–”

“Unlock it, now.”

You struck by the edge in his voice. You’ve only ever heard that when he had Colin by the scruff. Never towards you. Your lip trembles as you have no argument. He’s been so kind; he brought you breakfast and he said such sweet things and what he did…

“Sorry,” you reach across and press your fingertip to the censor to unlock it, “there.”

“Thanks,” he says tritely as he flips the phone back to face him.

You’re quiet as you focus on the container, carefully popping open the lid. The egg, avocado, an array of colourful veggies tease your hunger. It’s only then that your stomach clenches in desperation. You unwrap the bamboo fork and twirl it nervously as you peek up at Jonathan. He glares at your phone.

“Why didn’t you show me all this?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“These vile messages from that man?”

“I… I told you he was—”

“You didn’t tell me everything. Fawn, how can I protect you when I don’t know?” His harsh gaze makes you wince.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“We both know that man is deranged. I am only trying to help. And the thought of him ever laying a finger on you,” he stops and shudders, “we’ve committed to each other, yes? So we must start from honesty.”

You gulp and nod, “you’re right. I’m sorry, but that was before and I didn’t know how to tell you…”

“Now you know.” He lays your phone down beside your cup, “that you can and should tell me everything.”

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Never Say Never

Chapter 19

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7.4K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

The peak of summer had hit. Humid days meant lots of time at the local pool and lake. You and Steve were enjoying every moment of the boys' break from school with them. Picnics in the woods, cookouts with friends, mini-golf, and trips to the zoo filled up your weekends. Evening bike rides had become part of your routine, often ending with ice cream cones or slushies from Scoops Ahoy. Nights spent chasing fireflies and roasting marshmallows over a fire. You and Steve had taken to enjoying evenings on the deck after the boys were in bed, glasses of wine in your hands.

Mid-July found everyone once again sitting around a large table at Sage and Salt, minus your parents, as you were all there for an entirely different reason this time.

“To Mike!” everyone cheered loudly, glasses clinking in celebration all around the table. 

Mike’s cheeks blazed bright red, his lips disappearing in embarrassment at everyone making a fuss over him. He’d told you last week that he finally got an offer for his book. The book he’d been working on for years was finally going to be published, he was getting a decent advance for a new author, had signed the contract just that afternoon, and everyone had insisted on going out to celebrate. 

“Thank you but this all feels a little…premature, doesn’t it?” he asked. “I mean, yeah, I got an offer and signed a contract but we have no idea how the book is going to do. Getting published doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people get published and their book just sits on a shelf collecting dust. It could still horribly flop.”

“It will not,” insisted El, looping her arm through his, a proud smile on her face. “You are going to do incredible. Michael Wheeler is going to be a household name.”

“Yeah, man. You could be the next Stephen King,” Lucas said. 

Dustin snorted, “Nobody’s the next Stephen King. Stephen King is the only Stephen King there is or ever will be. Besides, his books are in a totally different genre. You can’t even compare the two.”

Max rolled her eyes, “Jesus Christ, Dustin. Can you just say yeah and be happy for your friend?”

“I am happy for my friend but it would be more appropriate to compare him to Eddings or Brookes as his book would be of the fantasy genre and they are fantasy authors. Of course, those are big shoes to fill. If his books do even half as well as theirs I will be impressed.”

“Okay, we get it,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “Anyway, this is a huge deal and I am sure your book is going to be great. Congratulations Mike.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, we’re so proud of you,” Karen beamed, teary, reaching over the table to pinch his cheek as he grimaced and pulled back from his mom.

“It’s about time,” Tedd grumbled, taking a long drink of his beer. “Only been working on the damn thing for five years, letting his wife pick up the slack.” Karen elbowed him and he looked over at her, completely unaware of how rude he was being.

“Well,” Joyce added, “I think it’s great. I can’t wait to read it. I will be first in line to buy it the day it comes out.”

Mike smiled at her, “Thanks.” He glanced around the table at all of his friends. “And thanks to all of you. If you wouldn’t have pushed me so hard, I’d probably still be editing it over and over again, too scared to ever actually put it out into the world.”

Nancy ruffled his hair, “No problem, kid. We all knew you had it in you even if you didn’t.”

“It’s an amazing story,” Will told them. “Mike really did his research. It’s well planned out, the plot is gripping, the characters are amazing, and the world building is on point.”

Dustin’s mouth dropped open, his fork hitting the plate with a clang, his eyebrows furrowing, “Wait. You’ve read it?”

Will shrugged, “I mean, yeah. Mike wanted me to look it over to see what I thought. I actually helped him with some of the editing.”

“How come he got to read it?” demanded Dustin, offended. “You said we couldn’t read it until it was published and perfect?”

“It’s Will,” Mike stated as if that should be enough explanation. “I trust Will to be honest with me.”

“We’re honest,” Lucas scoffed. 

Max’s eyes rolled into her head, “Boys, boys…calm down. You all will have a chance to read it in a few months when it comes out. No need to bicker over who got to read it first. You’re all very important to Mike.”

“Speaking of people who are about to be famous, you will never guess who I saw at the record store today,” Robin said, turning to Steve as the boys continued to banter back and forth, her hand reaching across the table to grab a roll from the basket sitting in front of Steve.

“Who?” he asked.

“Eddie Munson.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, “For real?” 

Robin nodded with a grin like she’d just spilled the juiciest news ever but being that you had no idea who she was talking about, you just munched on your bread. It didn’t appear that June had any idea who it was either as her and you shared a look of confusion. Based on the look on Steve’s face, this was very big news indeed.

“But I thought he took off,” Steve continued. “After senior year…well, his third try at senior year, anyway. He said he was getting out of this hellhole and never looking back.”

“He did get out. Hasn’t lived here for years but he came back to help Wayne pack up the trailer. Apparently, his band just got a record deal with this big label in L.A. He said they’ve been playing in clubs for years and were just thinking of packing it in and giving it up when this big record executive came to one of their shows. Anyway, they gave him this huge advance and he bought a house out there and Wayne is going to move in with him.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Steve remarked, his hand on your shoulder, thumb stroking the bare skin along the strap of your tank top. You had learned over the last few months that he was a very physical guy. Some part of him was almost always touching you and you weren’t complaining about it. “Good for him. You know, the way this town treated him, I always hoped he’d do well and show them all.”

“Who’s Eddie Munson?” June questioned just as you were about to ask it yourself.

“He’s this guy we went to school with. He’s Steve’s age but he had some struggles in school so he wound up graduating with my class. Honestly, I think he might have had ADD but of course they didn’t really talk about that back then. They’ve only really started talking about it in the last couple years. If you couldn’t keep your ass in the chair and learn like everyone else then you were just out of luck. Most of the teachers wrote him off as a lost cause so he lived up to it. He was sent out of the classroom so many times for being obnoxious or causing a disruption. But he was crazy talented at the guitar and he always had a book he was reading. People called him dumb but I never thought he was. Annoying, absolutely, but not dumb. I think he just couldn’t get it the way they were teaching it and no one took the time to figure out how to teach him.”

Steve shrugged, “He had it hard here. The town treated him like trash because his dad was trash. His old man went to prison for selling hot car parts and his mom took off when he was just a toddler. He wound up living with his Uncle Wayne when he was in middle school. Wayne had a trailer in Forest Hills. So on top of being a felon’s kid, on top of having trouble at school, he also lived in a trailer. It was the trifecta of judgement for the people in this town. Everyone always said he was up to no good and he was going to turn out just like his father.”

“You know,” Robin mused, tearing off little bits of her roll and stuffing them in her mouth, “one time some of the cheerleaders were being mean to me. Not that it wasn’t something that happened all the time.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “I was a band geek so the jocks and the popular kids loved to give us shit. Anyway, they took my trumpet and were playing keepaway. Eddie stepped right in and swiped it from them, depositing it in my hands with a flourish and a bow before strolling off down the hallway. I always kind of admired him. He never let those asshats get him down. He just was who he was and he didn’t care what anyone thought of him.”

“I don’t know,” countered Steve. “I think everyone cares what other people think of them. I just think some of us are better at pretending like we don’t. I think that obnoxious, boisterous exterior was a shield he put up to protect himself once he realized he was never going to be accepted by this place. It was easier to pretend it didn’t matter than to allow himself to be vulnerable to the mockery. Dustin sure loved the guy though.”

“Loved who?” asked Dustin, catching the sound of his name.

“Eddie Munson,” Steve answered.

“Hell yeah I did. All of us did.” He gestured down the table to the other boys. “He was a Dungeons and Dragons Master. He was the head of our D&D club, Hellfire, and we all joined our freshman year of high school. Me, Lucas, Mike, and Will were never what you’d call…popular. Lucas was a bit once he started playing basketball and helped them win the championship game. But Eddie, man, he just accepted us from the first day. He gave us a place to belong. We were happy to be one of his sheep.”

Steve snorted, “It was like a damn cult. He referred to them as his sheep like he was a shepherd leading the flock. All four boys loved him but Dustin freaking worshiped the ground he walked on.”

“He passed the reins onto Dustin when he finally graduated, appointing him Dungeon Master,” Robin said, pausing to thank the waitress as she brought their food. “But he was heartbroken when he found out Eddie was going to completely skip town.”

“He was my friend. Hell, he was more like a brother, and he was a hell of a Dungeon master. I tried to fill his shoes but nobody really could,” Dustin stated. “I’ve been out there to visit him a few times, actually. He’s in town right now. Did you know that?”

“That’s what I was just telling him, doofus,” Robin said. Dustin stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed.

“And were you close to Eddie?” you asked Steve.

“Me? No. Not so much. Eddie and I…we didn’t have a lot in common. He was a metalhead who loved to play nerd games. I was an athlete who would rather do just about anything than Dungeons and Dragons. But I never had an issue with him like some people. I always thought he was a pretty good guy. Henderson’s a good judge of character. If he says you’re solid, you probably are. My few interactions with him were alright.”

One of Robin’s eyebrows lifted, her elbow dropping to the table as she leaned forward, “Oh please! You hated that Dustin and him were so close.”

“Yeah he did! He didn’t like that I had another older male friend. He wanted to be the only one.”

Steve’s lips came together, making a noise of disbelief, “Okay, one, gross. And please. Like I cared who you spent your time with. I was just relieved you weren’t constantly following me around anymore.”

Robin turned to you, “Don’t let him fool you. He was so jealous that Dustin was spending more time with Eddie. He got used to being the only one that the kid hero worshipped.”

“Aww,” you teased, poking him in the side, giggling when he jumped. “You didn’t like having to share your little brother?”

His eyes narrowed, “Please. Like I cared who Dustin Henderson hung out with.”

“Oh, he did,” Dustin shot back. “He can act like he didn’t want me around but he’d be lying. Steve loves me.”

“Okay, anyway, onto another topic please,” Steve begged, popping a fry into his mouth as the other guys caught wind of the conversation and started asking Dustin about Eddie. 

“Alright, how about we talk about how my amazing girlfriend had some brilliant ideas about how to get more business into the coffee shop?” June offered, her hand covering Robin’s. “I was telling her how weekday evenings can be pretty dead and I wasn’t sure if I should start closing early and she had some amazing suggestions.”

“Oh yeah?” You leaned forward, arms folded on top of the table. You smiled at how red Robin’s cheeks flared at June’s compliment. “What amazing suggestions did you have?”

Robin shook her head, fingers tearing little pieces of her napkin nervously. “It wasn’t really anything spectacular…”

“Yes it was!” June huffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s just being modest. She mentioned starting a book club night. We could have specials to lure them in. I mean, what goes better with a conversation about a good book than a cup of coffee and yummy sweets?”

“Oh, I think that’s a fantastic idea!” you exclaimed, bringing your straw to your lips for a sip of Coke. “We don’t really have anywhere in town that does book clubs. I think you’d get a lot of people interested. You could even make a special dessert to go with the book they’re reading.”

June’s eyes lit up. “I love that idea! Like I could make something with orange marmalade for Bridget Jones's Diary. We think that might be the first pick. I could even come up with some fun drinks to go with it. Maybe instead of coffee, have a fun tea beverage.”

“Yes! I’m totally in for the book club.”

“Oh, did I hear you say you’re starting a book club at the cafe?” asked Nancy, making her way down the table to join them. “I’m in.”

“Really?” Robin asked. “I mean, you really think it’s a good idea?”

“I told you babe,” June sighed, “it’s an amazing idea. We’re thinking about Tuesday nights. We’ll feature one book a month. I’m partnering with Terry, who owns the bookstore. He said he’ll make sure to order extra of whatever we pick so people can buy it directly from him instead of having to drive into the city to find it.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a win-win for both of us, you know?”

“I also mentioned a live music night and maybe a poetry night where people could come in and perform,” Robin added, posture straightening as her confidence built seeing that everyone thought it was a good idea. “That’s why I was in the record store today. I was talking to Tom about the local bands he knew of. We want to get the word out but we need to know where to find the people to give the word.”

“Yeah. But we’re thinking of waiting on the live music for a couple months. I want to make sure we have the book club thing down before I try adding in anything else. If that all goes well, then maybe in a couple more months we can phase in poetry night.”

“The Hideout would probably be the best place to find bands,” Jonathan offered as he headed down to join them as well, his arm slipping around Nancy’s waist. “I mean, that’s where Corroded Coffin always played.”

Robin nodded, “I know but we want to host a variety of music. I think The Hideout is pretty heavy stuff. Not that we don’t want that too but it would be nice to do a variety to get more people in.”

Steve snorted, “Yeah. Not everyone wants to listen to a bunch of screaming. Makes my ears want to bleed.”

“You know, Matt works with a guy who’s in a band. They play more acoustic stuff. I could talk to him and see if his friend would want to play at your shop,” you told them. 

“That would be great. Like I said, it wouldn't be for a couple months. Probably not until the end of summer but I wouldn’t mind lining up some talent so we have a schedule and are ready to go when it’s time. Plus that would give us some time to figure out logistics.”

“If you’re looking for something Monday through Friday, you could always eventually add a local artisan night too. People who make things could have small displays in your shop and in front of it. From my experience, people love that kind of stuff,” Nancy said. “There’s just something so gratifying about finding that unique something special that you can’t find anywhere else because it’s not mass marketed. You know?”

“That’s not a bad idea, either,” June agreed. “And I love getting to support artists and small business owners. Especially given that I am one.”

“Oh, I wanted to ask, would it be okay if Eli stayed over tonight?” asked Nancy, turning to you. “Jere has been bugging me all day since we were all going to be here together. We rented Space Jam and he refuses to watch it without Eli.”

Steve glanced over at you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively at the thought of the two of you having a night alone. You weren’t used to having Eli gone as much as he was these days. He usually wound up hanging out with one of the gang or having a sleepover at least once a week but you’d learned to appreciate any time you could have alone with Steve.

“Yeah. Absolutely. I’m sure he’d love that.” A soft smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you glanced down the table, watching as the boys took turns shooting straw wrappers at Dustin and Lucas, a skill that Hopper was apparently teaching them. The man was like an over-sized child sometimes.

“Thanks. We’ll bring them both back around lunchtime tomorrow if that’s good for you,” Jonathan said, him and Nancy sharing a smile. “Give you some morning time too, you know, if you need a little extra.”

A couple hours later found you strolling next to June as Steve and Robin argued ahead of you. Everyone had headed home and the four of you decided to walk off some of your food first. You were only able to catch a word here or there of Steve and Robin’s conversation and had no idea what they were arguing about. But considering it sounded playful, you weren't worried. If there was such a thing as platonic soulmates, those two were it. They bickered like siblings but their love for each other knew no bounds. That was obvious to anyone who witnessed their interactions for even a few minutes. 

“So, it seems pretty serious with you and Robin,” you observed, hooking your arm through June’s as you walked along the main street. 

A smile like a crescent moon curved the raven-haired beauty’s lips, “It is, I think. I’ve been crushing on her for months. I didn’t think she’d ever get the nerve to say anything. I mean, honestly, I wasn’t even sure if she liked me for a while. The girl never made eye contact with me. I knew she was into girls but I just figured maybe I wasn’t her type and she didn't want me to get the wrong impression or something.”

“Oh, she liked you,” you laughed, pausing to look in the window of the general store. Eli had been begging you for the Batcave playset that had come out a couple weeks ago. With his birthday coming up next month, you were going to need to stop in and get it. If you waited too long, it might not be there and you’d never hear the end of it. “She liked you a lot. I just think she was scared to say anything.”

“Obviously. But she’s…I mean, she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s so kind and thoughtful. I love the way she rambles when she’s nervous. It’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And those little freckles…I just want to kiss each one.” She giggled. “I often do, actually. It’s only been a few weeks but somehow I just know. I know this is going to be something amazing. I know it’s going to last, you know?”

You curved your lower lip in, nodding as your eyes instantly moved to Steve, “I do know.”

“You sure seem to. You and Steve are the freaking cutest. Anyone watching you two can see it’s something special.”

It was special. It was everything. It was more than you could have ever imagined you’d get in life. After losing it all, you’d never expected to find something this magical again, someone this amazing. You knew exactly what June meant because you just knew. You knew that Steve was it for her. You knew six months from now, six years from now, sixty years from now, the universe willing, that he would still be by your side and you would still be just as deliriously happy. 

Robin shoved Steve, his hand coming to her face and shoving her back, both of them laughing. You watched the exchange with amusement. You already loved both of them so much. They had seamlessly been sewn into the fabric that was your life. What girl not only got to have the perfect guy but also the amazing people who came along with him? Sometimes it felt like too much, like you couldn’t possibly deserve this much. 

“Are you two talking about us back there?” Robin questioned, walking backwards ahead of them. 

“Only good things,” June promised.

“My girl's not complaining about how I don’t hang up my towel after a shower?” Steve asked, spinning around to face them. “Or how I leave little hairs in her sink when I shave? Or how she trips over my shoes because I don’t put them by the door where they belong?”

“I can accept all of those things if you can accept how I hog all the blankets at night,” you replied. “Or how I take showers so hot you feel like your skin is melting off. Or how I always take the last of the coffee and don’t make another pot.”

Steve stopped walking, waiting until you were right in front of him. His arms wrapped around you, hand locking at the small of your back, a gentle kiss pressed against your lips. Those lips, so damn soft. The man always had a ChapStick in his pocket. You knew because you’d run it through the washing machine more than once. 

“I can accept every single one of those as long as it means I get to have you,” he whispered, his lips pressing softly against your nose. 

“Did we just watch them exchange vows?” teased June. “Because those sure sounded like vows.”

“Seriously, when are you two just going to bite the bullet and move in together?” asked Robin. 

Steve’s eyes went wide, zeroing in on you, examining you and you knew why. He was waiting. Waiting for you to sink into the dark abyss of an attack the way you had the last time moving in together had been brought up. You hated the way his body tensed, readying himself to try to pull you out of it. You hated that he assumed you would fall apart at the mention of the future with him. 

Because you weren't. You weren't panicking. The two of you spent more nights together than not these days. You had toothbrushes at each other’s places. You had a drawer with a spare change of clothes for those last minute decisions to stay over. He had a thermos in your cupboard for his coffee for work when he woke up at your place. 

“Robin, we’ve only been dating for a few months,” Steve urged, darting a warning glance at his friend. “We’re taking things slow.”

Robin guffawed, her head thrown back with loud laughter, “Moving slowly? You sleep at each other’s houses every single night.”

“Not every night,” Steve argued.

“Practically,” she stated. “You already act like a married couple. Aly packs your lunches for work for crying out loud.”

You shrugged, “I mean, I’m already packing Eli’s and mine so I just…”

“I don’t care that you pack his lunch. But if you’re packing lunches, taking turns picking up the kids from school, and sleeping next to each other every single night, what’s the difference if you just go from two houses to one?”

“She’s not wrong,” June agreed. “You’re basically living together in two different spaces. Just sell one. It’s definitely more economically logical. You’d only have one house payment.”

“And if you sell one, you’d have a decent chunk of change. You could use it for…oh, I don’t know…a wedding?” Robin’s eyebrows wiggled tauntingly. 

“We haven’t…I mean…we’ve talked but not…” you stammered. 

Steve’s hands found yours in an attempt to ground you. Oddly, you didn’t need it. This talk about weddings and living together, talk that used to make your heart run a marathon, that used to suck the air right out of your lungs, wasn’t doing anything. You just didn’t know how to respond. After the hospital incident, you hadn’t really discussed it anymore.

It wasn’t like it wasn’t there, a thought that kept jabbing at your brain every now and then. But you’d been happily just going along the way you were. If he had Jere, you would stay at his place so Jere could have his things. If he didn’t, they stayed at your place. Miles had even gotten comfortable at both houses. The dog was at home at your place, leaving dark hairs everywhere that you could never seem to fully vacuum away. Somehow you always went to work covered in him but you didn’t mind.

But did Steve want to take that step? He’d told you that he hadn’t meant it when he said he liked his space. But the man had been living on his own for a while. He didn’t have to be attached to a child seven days a week. If you moved in together, he would have Eli around all the time. Maybe he wanted to be able to head back to his own place, his sanctuary of peace and solitude. 

“Okay Robin. Your suggestions and opinions are duly noted,” Steve said, putting an end to the discussion. “Thanks for the input.”

Robin shrugged, grinning, “Just wanted to get my two cents out there. Voice the idea into the world. Because we both know you two will never do it if left to your own devices.”

____________________________________________________________

Steve stroked your hair as you lay with your head on his chest, the two of you relaxed back on a blanket. A cool breeze tickled his skin, crickets creating a soundtrack for your evening as you enjoyed a moment of quiet together in his backyard. Stars twinkled like diamonds in the night sky, the half moon providing what little bit of light you had. 

He felt completely at ease with you right here where you belonged, cocooned in his arms, your hearts beating rhythmically against one another, sharing each other’s warmth to ward off the chill of the early summer evening. 

He’d been expecting you to go into a full blown anxiety attack earlier when Robin started talking about moving in together. He’d expected another call to 911 when you'd mentioned marriage. But he’d never been so glad to be wrong. You had taken it in stride. You'd stammered a bit, looked a little nervous, but you hadn’t lost control. It was a small step in the right direction.

Steve hadn’t broached the subject of living together since that night when he almost ruined everything. You were spending most nights and mornings together as it was. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t think it would ever be enough but you seemed to be okay with it and so it was what he would make himself okay with for now. He’d made a silent vow not to push you anymore and he’d stuck to it, waiting for you to let him know when you were ready for the next step. 

Had he wondered if you never would be? Of course he had. With your past, your struggles with anxiety, it concerned him that this could be what your relationship looked like forever. You frozen in place, terrified to move even an inch in a forward direction. Him never saying anything for fear of pushing you away. The two of you at a standstill, your relationship never evolving, never changing past two people who dated and stayed over at each other’s places. 

Steve had thought you'd fallen asleep until you said softly, “Maybe Robin has a point.”

“Hmm?” he questioned, pulling himself from his thoughts. 

You lifted your head, placing both hands over his heart before resting your chin on the backs of them. You took his breath away. Every time you looked at him it was like he had forgotten just how beautiful you were and he was stunned all over again. Every damn time. His fingers slid a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I said maybe Robin has a point,” you repeated, turning your face into his touch, your lips pressing a kiss to the center of his palm. 

Steve snorted, “Robin’s never right about anything.” At the look you gave him, he relented. “Okay. Fine. Yeah, she has some great ideas about June’s cafe. I think those things will really help bring in the business. We’ve yet to see but maybe she does have a point.”

“Steve, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. You couldn’t be saying what he thought you were saying, right? No. That was just him getting his hopes up far too high. It had only been a little over a month since that night in the hospital. There was no way you were going from barely able to breathe at the idea to suddenly saying you should move in together.

He swallowed, trying to rein in the desire that was raging in him for you to open your mouth and say those words. Because if you didn’t, the disappointment would come crashing down on him like an avalanche, his heart crushed under the weight of hundreds of tons of rock and rejection. 

“So, what are you talking about?” he asked, attempting to keep the hope he was feeling out of his voice. 

Your head tilted, your mouth curving into a gentle smile, “I mean, we are practically living together as it is. We’re just doing it in two different spaces. It does seem kind of silly, doesn’t it?”

Steve swallowed hard, nodding, barely trusting himself to reply with more than that. He wanted to grab onto you, pull you into him, kiss you breathless, and beg you to move in together. To choose a place. He didn’t care which. If you wanted to keep your place, that was fine with him. He just wanted you to be in his life, all of it, every day for forever.

“I understand if you’re not ready. I know you’ve probably gotten used to having your own space. I’m sure it’s nice to come home to a quiet house on the days when Jeremiah is with Nancy and Jonathan. So, I’m not pressuring you or anything. I’m just saying maybe it’s something to think about?”

He nodded. Emotion was clogging his throat. He knew he needed to say something. He needed to respond to you but he couldn’t seem to get sound past the lump in his esophagus. 

You blinked quickly, burying your head against his chest again as you muttered softly, “Anyway, just a thought. No big deal. I wasn’t saying we have to do it now.”

Jesus Christ, he chastised himself. Open your mouth. Say something. His arms wound around you tighter. Those beautiful eyes, eyes he hoped he was lucky enough to look into for the rest of his life, opened wide. He traced the back of his hand over the soft skin of your cheek. 

“Move in with me,” he urged. “Or I’ll move in with you. I don’t care. But let’s move in together.”

Those perfectly pink lips arced up on both sides, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Invade all of my space. I told you, I don’t want space. I don’t want quiet. I don’t want alone. I just want you. You and Eli and Jeremiah. I want you to fill up all the space until there’s none left.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”

“Honey, I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of you,” he said. “I know I want you forever. I know you’re it for me. I don’t need to wait and see. I don’t need time to figure anything out. I’ve known from the moment I saw your face that you were going to be something special in my life. And you are. I want you and everything that comes with you.” He cradled your face in his palms. “I want this face to be the first thing and the last thing I see every day.”

Tears sparkled in your eyes under the light of the moon. “Me too. Maybe it’s quick but I don’t care. I thought I needed to move slowly. I thought I would need time to know if this was right but I don’t. I feel it, so deeply in my bones. You’re right. This is right. I was worried about Eli but I don’t have to be because I am certain. I love you and so does he. It won’t matter if we decide today or six months from now. I will be completely certain it’s you.”

“So, your place or mine?” he asked. 

“I…” You paused, inhaling sharply. 

“It’s okay if you want to keep your house, honey. My house is just a house. Your house holds a lot of memories for you. I know that. I truly don’t care where I live as long as you and the boys are there.”

“No. I mean…I don’t think I want to keep the house. That house is full of memories but they’re memories from a different life. I want to start fresh. I want to build new memories with you. I don’t need the house to remember. Those memories will always be with me but I’m tired of living with a ghost and that’s what it feels like there. I mean, I should probably talk to Eli about it and see how he feels. But what would you think about buying a new house? Something we choose together? Something where we can create our own history and stories?”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

And it did. A whole new space where you could choose things together. You could slowly make it your own. A house that you would turn into a home by filling it with love and a shared history. A place where you could raise your boys together and then a space for just the two of you when the boys were grown and out creating their own futures. Four walls that would contain all the memories of your years, the happy and the sad, that you would look back on years down the road. 

“I love you,” you whispered, beaming from ear to ear. 

“I love you, too. God, I love you so much.”

You pushed yourself up, resting both knees on either side of his hips, straddling him under the stars in his backyard. Miles lifted his head from where he lay observing on the deck and Steve raised his hand, his command for stay. The dog released a heavy sigh but dropped his big head back down on his paws. 

“You are everything I never thought I could have.” Whispered words as your mouth, hot and sweet, covered his, your tongue teasing, flicking and brushing over his lips, teeth, and tongue. “You are a damn dream, Steve Harrington and I hope I never wake up.”

Your words, transmitted on your breath from your mouth to his, traveled throughout, spreading, inhabiting every single space. His hands ran over your body, grabbing and squeezing, as he made a vow to himself to keep you feeling like that. To ensure you never woke up, never looked around and doubted your choice right here on this blanket, never was disappointed to find the dream wasn’t your reality. 

You ground your hips over him and hissed at the feel of rock hard denim pressing over your clit. One hand slid up your shirt, taking your breast in his palm, while the other slid underneath your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass. You rocked harder against him, whimpering when he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth between kisses. 

Steve sunk into your mouth, taking the kiss even deeper, his tongue exploring, gliding and dancing over yours. His hand on your ass grabbed onto the lacy fabric covering your hip, his fingers wrapping around it, wanting to tear it off of you and bury himself to the hilt right now. 

“Should we…?” you tried but gasped when he pinched your nipple, rolling the pert little bud between his thumb and forefinger. “Should we go inside?”

“No, honey…can’t wait…wanna fuck you right here…under the stars…” he mumbled against your skin, sucking and nibbling a path up your neck to your chin. “Wanna have you under me…take you in the moonlight…” 

A squeak escaped you when his arms came around your waist, flipping you to your back beneath him. His fists came down on either side of your head, taking in the sight of your wide eyes, parted lips, flushed skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so damn beautiful,” he growled, his lips crashing down over yours again as your fingers dove into his hair, your legs locking around his waist as your heat sought out the friction of him again. 

“But neighbors,” you protested weakly when his fingers wrapped around the edge of your panties, yanking them down and away, tossing them carelessly somewhere in the yard. “What if someone sees?”

“No one’s gonna see,” he assured you, his lips traveling down your body, lifting your shirt to press open mouthed kisses over the soft skin of your stomach. “Maybe Miles, but he won’t tell anybody. He’s good at keeping secrets.”

You giggled at that, the sound filling his ears, delighting his senses. It was one of his favorite sounds in the world, maybe his most favorite. It was a sound he wanted to cause you to make every single day but it’s not the sound he wanted right now. 

Sliding down the blanket, he slipped his head under your skirt, taking your pussy in his mouth, and that’s when he got the sound he wanted. You choked out his name when he sucked on your clit like a throat lozenge. You writhed, whimpered, when he licked you from top to bottom, swirling his tongue over you teasingly. 

The taste of you made him feel drunk, his head fuzzy in that delicious way when the world just goes soft. He wrapped his arms around each of your thighs, holding you in place, as he feasted on you. Your back arched, fingers tangling in his hair, as he flicked his tongue over your clit. 

“Jesus, Steve,” you groaned, your hips rocking against his face, seeking sweet release. 

Fuck, he would never get enough of you. Your taste. Your scent. Your sounds. The way you felt. He could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs happily and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

You were panting softly above him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your thighs trembled around his head and he knew you were close to coming undone. Steve wrapped his mouth around your clit and your entire body froze as you cried out his name loudly. He gently lapped at your sweet center, not stopping until he felt you relax beneath him. 

“Steve…” Your voice was raspy with lust, your fingers threading through his hair, leading him up your body. He stared down at you, the way your skin glistened under the faint light of the moon, your eyes heavy, your lips curled in a satisfied smile. “I think the neighbors might have heard me.”

He grinned, pressing his forehead to yours, “Let them. Then they all know you’re mine.”

“I am, you know? Yours. Just yours,” you whispered, bringing his mouth to yours again, kissing him deeply. 

Those words did something to him, scratching an itch in his brain he hadn’t even known was there before this woman came into his life. Steve worked at his belt, undoing his jeans and kicking them down his legs, needing to be inside of you. 

Nestling himself between your legs, he took his cock in his hand, sliding the tip over your clit and through your folds, teasing. You moaned, low and deep, your eyes fluttering as he slipped just the tip in before bringing it back out to run through your slick tauntingly. Your feet slid over his calves, your hands slipping under his shirt, nails running over the skin of his back. 

“Steve…stop teasing…” you pleaded. 

“Lift up your shirt for me, honey,” Steve told her. “I want to see all of you while I fuck you.”

You obeyed, tugging your shirt up and over your head, leaving you lying beneath him in nothing but your little black skirt and a scrap of lacy pink fabric that was so sheer he could see your nipples, dark pink and hard. He couldn’t take it anymore, his hand grabbing onto your hip as he thrust inside of you, burying himself in your heat. 

“Oh fuck, yes…Steve…” you groaned, your nails digging into his flesh. 

Jesus, you felt so damn good. He thrust again, sinking even deeper into you if that was possible, both of you moaning. Your legs locked around him, your bodies melding together until he could barely pull out. His hips rocked into you, small movements that kept him sheathed the whole time, his cock dragging over your walls. 

“I love you…Jesus Christ, honey…I love you…so fucking good…you feel so fucking good,” he grunted, rutting against you, chasing his own high as he felt you already starting to tremble beneath him again. 

“Love…you…” you panted, fingers gripping his shoulders, your mouth catching his for a moment before you broke off, head dropping back. “Don’t stop…please don’t stop…oh god…Steve…right there…I’m gonna…”

His head fell back, riding it out as your pussy clenched down around him, clinging to him as you rode out the wave. He was almost hyperventilating as he thrust into you hard, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips, his eyes squeezing shut as his own orgasm crashed down over him with force, spilling into you. 

His cock throbbed within you as your pussy pulsed around him. He dropped down, his elbows on either side of your head, his hands cupping your cheeks. You looked like a fucking vision glowing and flushed in the subtle light of the moon above them. Your hand came to his cheek, smiling up at him, looking as satisfied as he does after he’s power washed every damn thing outside of his house. 

“You’re mine, huh? Just mine?” he teased with a smirk, thumb coasting over the curve of your cheekbone. 

You turned into his touch, pulling the tip of his thumb between your lips, “For as long as you want me to be.”

“Careful what you wish for, honey because that’s a long time. I’m thinking forever.”

“Works for me,” you beamed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pulling his lips down to yours. 

Chapter 20

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Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️ Only one more chapter to go and then this story will come to an end.

[deancaspinefest]

Books, Pies, and Roommates

Author: seidenapfel | Artist: Kit Shay

Posting on Sunday March 17

Everything seemed so easy when Castiel landed a job in Lawrence as a literature professor at Kansas University. He even found a place to stay with his cousin in Topeka, less than thirty miles away. But the daily commute quickly gets on his nerves and he begins looking for a little room in town. When he finally lucks out on a house, it comes with a catch. His mysterious landlord/housemate works and lives in Topeka during the week, and will only be in Lawrence for the weekend while Castiel is back at his cousin’s to honor a promise he made. When Dean walks into his favorite pie shop, the new sales assistant takes his breath away. Steve is gorgeous, and part of the owner’s family. Dean doesn’t even mind that Steve picks up Gabriel’s stupid moniker for him. After all, Deano has one syllable more, and Dean will do anything to hear Steve’s voice just a little bit longer. Though, as breathtaking Steve might be, he isn't Angel. If only Dean's book-loving best friend for over a decade weren't a mystery in himself — a guy who Dean has only met online, but who has slowly taken his heart away. And it seems that Dean isn't alone in his feelings. When the lines blur and fantasies merge three guys into one, disappointment and heartbreak seem to be inevitable.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“Dude! You did what?”

“I found you a new roommate,” Sam explained and Dean knew his brother was rolling his eyes. “As you asked me to.”

“Yeah, I heard you,” Dean muttered. “And well, I did, but duh? Did you take the first one that came along?

The silence at the other end of the line was enough of an answer.

“Seriously? The first one? You pick the first Tom, Dick, and Harry that walks into my home?” Dean couldn’t believe it. “You didn’t even—”

“His name is Castiel. And he’s nice,” Sam cut in, defending himself.

Nice?

Before Dean could interrupt him, Sam continued, “So, get this, Castiel is actually in the same predicament as you are. He lives in Topeka, but teaches at KU and he’s already fed up with his daily commute to campus.”

“Castiel? What a mouthful of a name is that?” Dean grumbled.

“As far as I know it’s the name of an angel,” his brother answered calmly, taking none of Dean’s shit.

“Angel?” Dean huffed while another Angel came to his mind. Shaking his head to clear the thought away, he went on, “You telling me the guy is some religious weirdo?”

Sam laughed and Dean could literally hear another eye roll. “Don’t worry. I don’t think that should be a problem. Quite the contrary. He seemed very interested in our library. Or, more precisely, /your/ part of the library.”

Dean huffed. “That’s most of it anyway, dude.”

Groaning, Sam ignored him and went on. “I don’t think he realized how obvious he was when he skimmed through the titles of your collection of gay pulp.”

“Hey, it ain’t gay pulp, not all of it,” Dean protested.

“Pulp, romance, literature — whatever. You can’t deny it’s kinda gay.”

Dean laughed before teasing, “Just kinda?” Even though his brother couldn’t see him, he wiggled his brows.

“How would I know? I haven’t even touched half of it,” Sam backpedaled and Dean laughed even louder. “Somehow I need to keep my sanity,” his brother shot back. Then it hit Dean. “Wait, you showed this guy, this—”

“Castiel,” Sam offered helpfully.

“Whatever,” Dean snapped. “You showed him the library?”

“Dean, he lives there now. Of course, I showed him around. Besides, how do you think I should have hidden the shelves in the living room? You’re not very subtle with your interests.”

Subtle? Dammit, it was his home, for fuck’s sake. “Still, the library? And you let him stay? Alone at home?”

“Yes, because that’s what happens when you rent your house, dude.” Dean could see his brother’s bitchface in his mind. “Do I need to remind you that you were the one who asked me to take care of the viewings?”

“Goddammit, Sammy,” Dean grouched. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before giving in, “Yeah. Sorry. I did. But that didn’t mean that you decide who lives with me.”

“I don’t know. He just seemed… perfect.”

(continue reading on Ao3 on Sunday March 17)

[celestoria]

Needing You

Summary: You didn’t realize your boyfriend finally came back home while you relieving yourself after being so needy for so long. After being such a tease, you decided to take out your pent up feelings on him.

Pairing: Luocha x fem!reader

Words: 1k

Tags: masturbation(f), biting, penetration, creampie, top!reader, kinda vanilla

Do not interact if you are 16 or below (17+)

Everything great had to come with its pros and cons and you can say the same about your relationship with Luocha. He has been such an amazing lover to you however, you kinda wished he spent more time with you.

You knew it was selfish to say that since he’s so dedicated to his job, working for weeks away from home. But within those days where he was away, loneliness always surges through you whenever he’s out of reach.

Staring out into the nothingness of the ceiling, your mind dreamed about Luocha and his presence. You missed how his voice would send tingles through your spine when he mumbled sweet nothings and how his arms would wrap around your waist to pull you close to him.

Yearning and desire for his touch grew stronger by the time you realized how much you craved his passionate kisses tickling your skin that eventually left you tangled up in each other the morning after.

You turned to your side and faced the edge of the bed while your thighs rubbed against each other under your nightgown. Dirty daydreams crept their way into your thoughts and arousal soaked your panties.

How you want- no, you need him to ravage you right now to the point you see the stars up in the sky.

Oh, why does he have to be away when you’re so needy?

Desperation filled you, causing you to sinfully sink your hand in between your legs. Debaucherous fantasies played in your mind like a film while you pretended the fingers in you were his. You knew how to pleasure yourself, but Luocha was the only one who could show you what heaven felt like.

“Luocha,” you moaned with pure lust and your eyes closed shut. “I want you so badly.”

Out of the blue, a hand tucked your hair between your ear and nuzzled on the side of your neck.

“Have I left you for that long, sweetheart,” a familiar voice whispered.

You were startled and your hand stopped curling inside your hole, leading your high to be cut short. Your head turned around and right beside was Luocha, donning that loving smile that told you how much he’s glad to have you in his grasp once again.

Still, your apparent fluster brought a tint of red to your cheeks. How embarrassing it was to be caught in the act. It’s as if you managed to manifest him using your sexual desires.

“Now, if I may ask, what did you say just right now,” he teased. How long did he know you were fucking yourself? “You are aware I cannot give you something without knowing.”

“I want you so badly,” you said quietly.

“Hm?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you cursed and crashed your lips together.

“You do not know how much I miss you,” he confessed in between kisses.

Both your lips parted. “I missed you too, Luocha. I was going insane with how long I need you,” you whined.

You pushed him down on the bed and straddled him. Imagine dealing with a teasing jerk while you had to be there dealing with the pent-up desire for him. You had enough and time to take it out all on him.

After you pushed him down on the bed and straddled him, you took your nightgown off as you grinded on top of the bulge constrained by his pants. Your body moved inches away before hastily undid his clothes. His member came out twitching the same way you were soaking wet for him.

The weight of your body pressed against him with your hands splayed across his chest while you tried to align your cunt with his dick.

As you rocked on top of him, Luocha found himself holding you in your hips. Even if he could take control like your usual routine, It was his night to show you how he’s truly yours and he didn’t want to take that from you. All he wanted was to touch you again in ways he has been wanting to do for the last few weeks.

His head tilted to the side with his eyes closed to relish the pleasure as a frangic moan escaped his lips. You leaned in forward, your hips refusing to stop. You squished his cheeks and directed him to look at you again.

“Don’t look away,” you panted. “You know I don’t want that right now.”

A small giggle left his lips seeing you like this. Luocha found it adorable you dominate his body in such a needy way that he can’t help but obey your every command,

Luocha caressed your back, causing your skin to prickle and your body to push downward on him. You picked up your pace , causing him to dig his nails into your skin while you hid your face on the crook of his neck.

“If you keep moving like that, I’m afraid I might cum inside you,” he moaned, feeling your walls clench around him tighter and tighter.

You didn’t care about that and pretended as if you didn’t hear a single thing from him. You rocked on top of him with such a sloppy yet hungry pace and your mouth bit on his neck, causing the merchant to gasp.

Soon you began to jerk and you found yourself dissolving in pleasure while a warm liquid painted your insides white. You found yourself huffing out of exhaustion and your breath tickled Luocha’s flushed and sensitive skin. You were still on top of him, with his dick still inside your pussy as both of you relishing the satiated lust.

You looked up to the lover you’ve longed for. Sweat formed on his forehead and coated his blonde bangs. You knew he was tired as well, but it was the type of tiredness that came with a sense of euphoria and relief. Even if he can’t move his body the following day, he wouldn’t mind as long as you were at reach once again.

[seattlesolace]

there for you // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: human!jay x guardian angel!fem!reader

summary: Jay is the boy you were tasked to guard, and guide, for life. you follow him through all stages of his youth, but what happens when he reaches a certain age and you start to develop... feelings?

genre: fluff, fantasy // warning: profanity, mentions of bullying

word count: ~5.3k

author's note: welcome to seattlesolace, and welcome to another fantasy-related content.

works regarding guardian angels have always been my favorite type of thing to read, so this is my spin on it. no, y/n doesn't have wings, and the type of guarding she does is more on the emotional side, but I do hope you like this one since it does bring me a little comfort when I reread it.

the song inspiration for this fic is below:

it was the song that Jungkook used in his GCF video and for some reason it kept playing in my head, and when I read the lyrics it was definitely giving me guardian angels vibes... so that's how this fic was made! for now, enjoy 🤍

When he was 8

When you’re screaming, but they only hear you whisper I’ll be there for you

“Park Jongseong!”

Jay blinked as he struggled to wake up at the sound of his nagging mother. It was 7 AM. He looked around his room before blinking several more times and then closing his eyes shut again.

The door flung open and his mother barged in. Holding a spatula on one hand, she patted Jay with the other hand and tried her best to lower her voice.

“Jay, you’re gonna be late. Come on, you have to get ready for school.”

“I don’t wanna go,” said Jay in a sulky voice.

His mother frowned. “Why?”

Jay remained silent. He’d rather keep his mouth shut than telling his mother and getting embarrassed all over again.

“Look, whatever is going on, you have to get it together or else your father is going to throw another lecture about the importance of education. Now I have to go finish breakfast. You better be ready by the time the food is served, okay?”

Jay’s mother ruffled her son’s hair as she left the room, leaving the door open on purpose. As Jay tossed and turned throwing a silent fit, he noticed the figure standing by the door.

“Noona?”

You smiled widely and entered the room, sitting on the edge of Jay’s bed. Jay automatically sat up and straightened himself.

“You need to listen to your mother,” you said, calmly.

Jay pouted. “But you know what happened the other day at school.”

You nodded. “I do. And I loved what you did.”

“Telling off a bully made me become the target of bullying. I didn’t see it coming,” Jay was now fully awake, fighting off yawns.

“It will get better,” you straightened the wrinkles on your white dress.

“How?”

“If you refuse to go to school, that just shows how much you are afraid of them. Don’t ever let them know about your fear. Don’t even feel afraid.”

For a boy his age, he knows that all the things you just said made sense. It was cliché, even. But it still didn’t convince him to go to school.

“I don’t care what people think about me,” he said, finally, after seconds of silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “You are a paradox. You stood up for the poor girl in class, and then you get bullied, and you don’t wanna go to school, and now you think you don’t care what people think about you, but at the same time you are still refusing and---“

“Okay! Okay, Noona! I will go to school if you stop talking,” Jay got out of his bed and snatched the towel hanging on his chair.

You laughed. “See you later?”

“See you later!”

When he was 17

I can’t do this alone Sometimes I just need a light

Jay kicked the little stones and made traces of lines in the sand. He took the lollipop he was eating and used the stick to write down something. He heard footsteps coming from behind him. When he turned around, you were already standing there, in your white dress, strands of hair falling off from your messy bun.

“Took you long enough,” murmured Jay.

You placed a hand over your chest, acting offended. “Some attitude?”

“I called for you 15 minutes ago, you usually respond within a minute,” Jay clearly looked disappointed. You sighed.

“I’m sorry. I had some stuff to take care of…”

“Another 17-year-old with romance problems?” asked Jay.

You tilted your head and chuckled. “No, some paper problems regarding the new recruitment for guardian angels. So, what is up with you?”

“There is this girl I like…”

“Okay, not the first,” you sat down on the bench as you listened to Jay who was still on his feet, playing with the sand.

“But I don’t know if I should tell her.”

You observed the teenage boy in front of you. His cap covered half his face, his loose tee and his wide-fit shorts made him look more mature than his age.

Noticing no response from you, Jay coughed. “Aren’t you cold?”

You realized Jay was referring to the fact that you wear the same white dress all the time and only change outfits whenever you were showing yourself to the real world.

“Angels don’t get cold, don’t worry.” You smiled. “Okay, so you like her. How much?”

Hearing this question, Jay’s lips form into a wide smile. It made you smile, too.

“A lot.”

“What do you like about her?”

“Almost… everything? Why are you asking me this, you know exactly who she is. You pop up at school like every day,” Jay got tired and sat down beside you.

“I know exactly what she’s like,” you leaned on the bench and stared at the stars. “But I want to know what she looks like, painted with the words from your mouth.”

Jay laughed shyly. “I didn’t know you were poetic.”

“I’m not, but you are,” you looked at Jay and elbowed him. “Go on. Answer.”

“Noona.”

“What?”

“Do I really have to? It’s embarrassing,” Jay covered his face with his two hands.

You gasped in surprise. “Embarrassing?? Nothing is embarrassing about love. What’s embarrassing is watching you grow up from the chubby 3-year-old who runs around the backyard, naked, become a sophisticated, academic-award-winning 17-year-old who doesn’t even know how to talk to girls.”

“Speaking of ages…” Jay turned around to face you. He had one leg up the bench so he could really face you.

“Don’t change the subject,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ve never really asked but I want to know. How old are you?” Jay stared at you, full of curiosity.

“I’m just a little over a thousand years old—“

“Not your angel age, like your human age, this figure, right now?” Jay poked you slightly to confirm his question. You felt a buzz.

“Well, um,” you did not even think for once that you would become flustered. “I’m probably in my mid-20s? Like 25? 26?”

Jay observed you in detail. It made you a tad bit giddy.

“Stop staring,” you said, shoving Jay’s face away.

Jay complained. “Not fair! You watch me sleep all the time.”

“No, I don’t. And if you say it like that, it sounds creepy.”

“But you do. Nothing in my room is white. So, if I see something white it’s definitely you.”

“What if it’s a ghost?”

Jay scoffed, sounding slightly scared. “Don’t say that.”

“Yet you are talking to me now,” you stared back at Jay, challenging him. Jay sighed and held up his hands.

“Fine. But you’re not a ghost. I believe in you because you’ve always been there for me. Now please give me advice, I am lost,” Jay leaned back to the bench after emphasizing the last word and accidentally knocked his cap off.

You caught his cap and put it on your head. Jay laughed at the sight of this.

“First of all, you need to determine whether or not you really need to confess. What’s the aim of your confession? Just to let her know? To date her? To find out if she feels the same? If the aim is to just let yourself be free of the burden that is your feelings, that is quite a selfish move. I suggest you don’t confess.”

Jay blinked and turned to you. “Wow. That was first of all?”

“Second of all,” you said as you chuckled and shoved Jay’s face away. “You need to weigh the situation. Once you’ve decided to confess, you really need to make sure of the place and time of your confession. Would you want to do it at the university? In a café? In class? Whatever. Make sure you do what she likes—“

“We’re not into that stage yet—“

“I mean NOT SEXUALLY!” you raised your voice. Jay burst out laughing and almost choked on his lollipop.

“Go choke some more,” you stood up, feeling a bit fed up.

Jay held your hand to stop you from walking away, even though he knew you could just poof and evaporate to oblivion because you had done that several times. But this time, you stayed.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “you may proceed.” Jay scooted to let you sit beside him again.

“The last,” you sat back down and smoothed out your dress. “Is to prepare for the worst. Looking at you like this,” you made a gesture at Jay, judgingly. “She might not accept your confession.”

“Hey!” Jay was clearly offended, but he smiled as he complained. “Am I really that bad?”

“You know why I came late?”

“Why?”

“Because I asked for a substitute to be your guardian while I find a different person who causes less trouble—“

Jay nudged you as you broke into laughter. “Bullshit. You love me.”

“Ha!” you scoffed. I really do. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Yes, please.”

“If she does not accept your confession, then it’s okay. You want to cry? Fine. You want to binge-eat? Fine. But like I said back then when you were dealing with bullies, don’t let it show. Don’t let your disappointment show, don’t let your sadness show. Don’t even be angry because she has the right to turn you down if she doesn’t like you back.”

“Wow,” Jay looked at you in awe.

“I know right,” you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I’m stunning at night.”

“You sound so wise, I almost believed you when you said you were in your mid-20s,” Jay shook his head and took his cap back.

“Well, how old do you think I should be given this amount of wisdom?”

“At least 50—ouch!”

You pinched Jay’s arm really hard to the point that his first cry of shock gradually turned into genuine screams of pain. You almost died of silent laughter.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay if you get rejected?” you asked, looking concerned.

Jay took a deep breath. “Of course I’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”

You sat in brief silence for a moment.

“I mean, you can use your superpowers to find other girls for me, right?” Jay flashed a sweet smile to you, his signature lopsided smirk.

“In your dreams, you boob,” you snickered, flicking Jay’s cap off his head.

When he just turned 23

But I’m holding on to something Won’t let go of you for nothing I’m running just to keep my hands on you

Your eyes widened at the sight of food being served in front of you. Sitting across from you is Jay, clearly not feeling the same excitement.

“Oh, please, cheer up!” you said as you handed him a pair of chopsticks. “You’re not in the mood for seafood?”

Jay shook his head and fixed his beanie.

“Well, tough, because I feel like eating some seafood and I’m paying,” you started stirring the seafood stew that was boiling, but then your smile faded when you didn’t get a reaction from Jay.

“I’m sorry,” you said, putting the ladle down. “Do you want to order something else?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Jay answered without missing a beat. “It’s just that…”

He fell silent and blankly stared at the food before shifting his eyes to you.

“You’re thinking about her?” you asked, knowingly. Jay nodded.

You put both your elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”

“You know already.”

“No, I don’t. I stopped following you on your dates since I got caught once and you told me off,” you said in defense. “And I’m still sorry for that, by the way.”

Jay shot a weak smile. “We’re in a fight. Or at least, I think we are. She doesn’t even take it seriously.”

You have been observing Jay’s first serious relationship for over 2 years. It was the same girl Jay confessed to when he was 17, except back then, he got rejected.

“What happened?” you asked. “Also, do you mind if I listen while eating?”

Jay shook his head and told you to help yourself. As you listened to his story, you carefully took out pieces of seafood onto your plate as well.

“She has a lot of friends. Male friends. And when I say a lot, I mean it,” said Jay who was now playing with his chopsticks.

“And it bothers you?”

“What kind of boyfriend wouldn’t be bothered?” Jay almost snapped the chopsticks. You had to carefully hold his hand down.

“Lower your voice, Jay,” you hushed. Jay mouthed ‘sorry’.

“She has no boundaries, Noona. She hangs out with them almost all the time. She even shares affectionate terms and nicknames with one of them that I dislike the most.”

You stopped stirring your food and shifted your eyes to his face.

“Whenever I call her or talk to her it feels rather rushed, like a squeezed-in business meeting.”

You paused eating for a while as you gathered your thoughts. She sounds like an awful person.

“Jay, I’m gonna ask you something.”

Jay blinked at the change of tone in your voice. “What?”

“From the beginning of your relationship, did you ever think you would last this long?”

Jay took a deep breath and rested his elbows on the table, propping his head up with both his hands.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he answered after taking a couple of seconds to think.

“Alright, let me ask another thing. Have you ever thought, during your relationship, that you give more than you take—“

“Yes.”

You were slightly shocked at the answer.

“That didn’t take me long to answer, huh?” Jay noticed the surprise on your face.

“That’s… a problem, Jay,” you looked into his eyes with a sad gaze. She doesn’t deserve you.

Before you were able to resume your thoughts, an old lady came by your table and served a second dish.

“We didn’t order this—“ said Jay.

“Oh, we did! Thank you, auntie!”

Jay smiled at the old lady before looking at you in confusion. “We didn’t?”

“I know you’re not the biggest fan of seafood, so here’s your meat. Now, tell me everything so I can give you the proper advice.”

You were looking down at your bowl, devouring the seafood stew that was now completely yours. As he picked up his chopsticks, he smiled and mumbled a ‘thank you’ before joining to eat.

---

“You broke two rules.”

You fixed the glasses sitting on your nose as you leaned forward. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N, I’ve told you many times before. Before you were even assigned to this boy.”

“Man,” you corrected.

“Fine, ‘man’,” said the guy in front of you as he fixed his nametag which read Jung Hoseok.

You sighed. “Okay, what did I do wrong?”

Hoseok was sifting through the papers when he glanced up at you and blinked. “You really want me to tell you?”

You shrugged.

Hoseok cleared his throat. “Okay, you violated his personal life by interfering with his romantic relationships—“

“I didn’t do anything wrong—“

“And! You developed feelings for him.”

Hearing the second point, you fell silent. Hoseok looked at you and took out a pen from his jacket.

“It’s not like we don’t know, Y/N,” said Hoseok in a lower voice. “I actually expected more from you.”

You looked back at Hoseok. As a guardian angel who had been doing your job for just ten years more than the man in front of you, you felt slightly ashamed. Hoseok had achieved so much in so little time that this scene where you were being scolded by someone of a higher position despite less experience did not feel bad.

Hoseok looked around at the empty café that he cleared out for this special meeting. At the door, Hoseok’s assistant was standing straight, guarding the entrance.

“Alright,” you finally spoke up. “What’s my penalty? A year off? Desk job at the headquarters for like, three months?”

Hoseok frowned. “Y/N, the rule you violated deserves a penalty that is much… worse than just a desk job.”

“What? I’m fired forever?” You were genuinely clueless since you had never broken a rule before, thus never acknowledging or studying the guide on guarding that had been constantly renewed every now and then.

“You’re becoming human,” said Hoseok, firmly.

You fell silent, but not for long. “Okay. Okay, I’m gonna be mortal. No big deal—“

“And memories of him will be erased, the same works for him,” Hoseok continued.

You scoffed. “You mean, he won’t remember me?”

Hoseok nodded. “Neither will you.”

“Hoseok, please—“

“I’m sorry, Y/N…”

You stared at the paper and the pen that Hoseok had readied. You remained still like that for a couple of seconds before you felt your eyes tearing up, and you decided to wipe your tears before they fell and embarrass you further.

“So, we get punished for loving people now?” you asked. “So much for being angels.”

Hoseok pushed the paper forward for you to sign as you reached for the pen. “That’s exactly my point, Y/N. We’re angels.”

You signed the paper which signified the end of your contract.

“We don’t feel,” said Hoseok as he pushed another folder to you, containing important documents.

“This is your identity, you will find everything you need to know about the human world and becoming human. Your age stays the same as now, but once you walk out that door,” Hoseok pointed to the guard at the entrance. “You will become human, and you’re gonna start aging.”

You peeked into the files that were now in your hands. “Does this mean I won’t be able to see you, too?”

Hoseok smiled as he tidied up all the loose papers. “I’m gonna miss you, Y/N.”

You let out a deep sigh and stood up. You walked over to Hoseok’s side as he got out of his chair, too.

“It’s been a pleasure, Hope,” you said, calling him by his code name. Hoseok shook your hand for a second before pulling you into a hug.

“Don’t be a bitch,” he said, followed by a laugh. You smacked his back before pulling away.

“Wait, if I’m becoming human, does that mean I’m gonna get a guardian assigned to me too now?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed, thinking hard.

Hoseok was genuinely confused for two seconds. “That is a really good question. I’m gonna have to check later at the headquarters.”

The two of them stood still before Hoseok’s phone started to ring. The boss was calling.

“I gotta take this. Best of luck to you, Y/N.”

You took two steps forward and hugged Hoseok one last time. “Thanks, mate.”

“Don’t forget your files,” Hoseok pointed to the folder before answering the phone. “Hello? Yes, Sir—“

Your ears canceled out the conversation immediately as your heels started clicking, making your way to the entrance. You gave the guard a warm smile before he opened the door for you.

The moment you stepped out of the door you completely felt blank. You knew your name, and how old you were, but you didn’t have a grasp of why you were there and where you were heading.

“Wait,” you murmured to yourself as you opened your files. You started reading the papers as you made your way to the sidewalk.

You weren’t even that far away from the shop you exited when suddenly a young man, who was rushing behind you, bumped into you, making you lose your balance.

“Oh, shit!” The young man exclaimed as he gathered the files that flew from your hands before making his way to you to help you up. “I am so sorry! Are you okay?”

You were fine, you thought to yourself, as you slipped back into your heels. However, as you looked up to see the man who caused this ruckus, you felt a heavy weight on your chest.

It was Jay.

“Miss, are you hurt?” He asked one more time, being extremely polite not to touch you anywhere, but making sure he did not leave you out of his sight.

“I’m… fine,” you answered clutching your chest. You felt the extreme weight getting even more painful.

“Look, I’m actually really in a hurry, so forgive me if I leave you here?” Jay offered his hand to help you up, but you declined. “Um, here are your papers. Again, I’m so sorry.”

You forced a smile, half in pain and half confused as to why you were feeling such discomfort. “That’s okay.”

“Alright,” Jay straightened his beanie and wiped the dust off his sweatshirt. “Have a safe flight!” he said, before running off again.

“Flight?” you muttered as you checked the files. Amongst all the papers, the one that was in the front was a printed e-ticket, a flight to New York departing in seven hours.

One year later

I got you, I promise Let me be honest

For the first couple of months you were in New York, everything felt magically easy for you. It took you no time to get a job and settle at a place that was relatively a reach for common New Yorkers. Your career somehow sped up and you were running the fashion division in a local but well-known magazine. You were making friends here and there, networking with a lot of people who would lead you to meet famous people and collaborate with celebrities you never knew you had a chance to meet.

Until one fine day, you felt a slight pain in your chest.

“Unnie, are you feeling unwell?”

Yoon, the company’s photographer, noticed you sitting on the bar stool, clutching your chest.

“I think it’s just my asthma. I’m gonna go grab my Ventolin,” you reassured Yoon before leaving the studio.

As you exited to the hallway, two of your coworkers immediately started walking by both sides.

“Y/N, schedule,” said Julian, handing over an iPad.

“Do you think these photos are okay?” On her left, Robin, was holding another iPad and scrolling through different photos from the shoot.

Your pain was growing even more as you reached the end of the hallway. “Hold on,” you held up one hand and Julian and Robin both stopped chirping.

“Are you okay?” asked Robin.

“You must be nervous about the upcoming shoot,” said Julian.

“What shoot?”

“That is exactly what I am here for. Schedule, Y/N,” Julian tapped the iPad in your hand and pointed to an area that read ‘PJS shoot’.

Julian and Robin looked at each other and smiled. “Isn’t it amazing? The founder of PJS Collection himself is coming over for New York Fashion Week and our magazine is one of the first to schedule a shoot and an interview with him. Dope, right?”

You looked at Robin with a confused face. “PJS Collection?”

“Park Jong Seong. Oh my God, Y/N, you work in fashion. How do you not know him?” Julian was starting to show sass.

And again, you felt the unbearable pain in your chest.

“Great, okay, you know what? I feel really under the weather right now so please bombard me with questions in about… two more hours, okay?”

And with that you disappeared into your office, leaving Julian and Robin looking at each other with their iPads in their hands.

---

“Maybe you should see a doctor?”

Isa put her cup of tea down as she fixed her gaze on you. It was in the afternoon, and you had time to kill before meeting with a client.

“I don’t know, it comes and goes. I’d like to think it’s nothing serious,” you brought your hand to your chest to make sure you weren’t feeling anything at that moment.

“Well, you did use the word ‘unbearable’, so that seems pretty serious to me,” Isa looked really concerned, but you waved her off.

“It’s the type of unbearable that becomes bearable, like, I don’t know, period cramps?”

Isa chuckled and proceeded to ask you a whole lot of questions about your job. After talking and refilling their pot of tea two times, an hour passed by. Isa checked her phone and found several chats from some people.

“Listen, good luck with the project. I gotta go see Yoon now,” said Isa, squeezing your hands and sliding in a couple of bills for her share of the tea time snacks.

“Thanks, Isa,” you smiled and waved goodbye, setting your eyes on Isa until she left the place. You sighed and stirred your cup of tea. You didn’t believe it at first, but as time went by, you felt your heart beating faster.

“I really need to schedule a check-up,” you murmured to yourself as you reached for your phone.

“Miss L/N?”

You almost lost your grip on your phone when you heard the voice behind you. You turned around and almost clutched your chest again if not for your gesture to shake hands with the person in front of you. The handshake lasted for a second, but you felt a flashback that was vivid if only it lasted a bit longer.

“Mr. Park, I presume?” you tried not to waver at the images in your head.

“Just Jay, please,” Jay’s eyes disappeared behind his smile. You could almost hear your chest pounding.

“Have a seat, Jay,” you welcomed your client warmly, trying to dismiss the pain. Maybe if I don’t think about it, I won’t feel it.

“Can I just say,” Jay said immediately after he sat down and thanked the waiter for bringing a new set of cups. “You look oddly familiar.”

You frowned as you poured tea into your own cup. “That’s strange.” I bet my reaction is more abnormal.

“Or maybe you look like someone I used to know… wait, was that offensive? I am so sorry,” Jay started babbling apologies and excuses and you found it weirdly adorable.

“No, it’s okay, I get that a lot. It’s a pleasure to be working with you! I found out your line is quickly getting recognition from where you come from?”

Jay smiled proudly, but was humble. “Yes, it is, thank you for saying that.”

You noticed that you couldn’t feel the pain as long as you continued to listen to Jay’s voice, so that was exactly what you did.

“Could you tell me more about the concept you’re going for in fashion week?”

---

You made your way through Central Park, trying to find out where exactly Jay was waiting for you. He mentioned that he wanted ‘to make it more fun’ and that he thought it was ‘cute’ to make you search for him. But he said it all through chat and proceeded to update his Instagram story which spoiled the hiding place. You almost wanted to type FOOL into his DMs.

“How did you know I’m here?” Jay stood up from the bench he was sitting on, eyes widened in amazement.

“I follow you on Instagram, genius,” you chuckled as you saw the sudden realization creeping up on Jay’s face. “You look great.”

Jay smiled. It was so typical of you – completely slandering him one second and showering him with compliments right after. Jay thought it was not normal to get all giddy from a compliment on a first date; technically you have been meeting several times since fashion week, but only now agreeing on calling this hang-out a ‘date’.

“I dressed up so you can take a picture for my ToJays Fashion collection,” said Jay, matter-of-fact-ly.

You pouted. “Is that why you wanted to hang out with me? So you can have a free professional photographer?”

Jay had his hands up. “Hey, your words, not mine.”

You scoffed and proceeded to walk away. Jay quickly caught up with you and you chatted as you both strolled around the park.

At this point, you were used to the abnormal feeling in your chest. You had associated it with Jay, and you thought of it as a good feeling. You forced yourself to believe that if other people felt butterflies in their stomachs, then you would feel a set of dumbbells on your chest whenever you meet a person you potentially like.

And you liked Jay a lot.

The two of you made your way past the lake, walking down the path between green fields and people sprawled on them, enjoying the beautiful weather. Sometimes your hands would brush against one another, and it bothered you not because you didn’t want to touch Jay, but because you were constantly having flashbacks. And this time, it became more vivid.

“Y/N.”

Jay decided to call on you once he noticed you staring blankly at the path in front of you.

“Are you tired? Do you want to sit down?”

You figured it was best to follow Jay’s words and as you both sat down, you moved closer towards Jay and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Do you mind?” you asked. Jay shook his head and smiled.

“You know we can always go to a coffee shop, or a bookstore, if walking around is too tiring for you?” Jay’s voice sounded even deeper now that you had your head on his shoulder.

You didn’t answer. Jay started feeling very concerned.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” asked Jay. His tone softened. Your heart ached.

“I’m al—“

You couldn’t finish your sentence because Jay intertwined his fingers with yours. You didn’t let go even after several seconds, and you started to close your eyes.

That’s when everything came back to your memories.

Jay’s cry, his laughter when he was little. All the episodes where he was sulking in his room, having his mother coax him out of bed.

When Jay turned seventeen, and all his friends gave him a surprise as you watched from outside of class, and on the same day his first love broke his heart.

When they erased your memory and you bumped into him right after, unaware that Jay was actually rushing to the place you were supposed to meet.

That one particular night at the playground when you wore his cap and realized for the first time that you were in love with the boy you were supposed to guard.

Your head jerked up as you let go of Jay’s hand, and you brought your hand to your chest. You stood up slowly and turned to Jay.

Jay had his head down. He moved his fingers, the same fingers that were intertwined with yours just seconds ago. When he looked up, you knew that he remembered, too.

“Y/N…”

Jay stood up straight and faced you. You weren’t sure how to react, or what to say. Was it weird that you are now together miles away from home? Was it appropriate, knowing the history that you have? Does he love you back?

“You were always there for me.”

Jay looked you in the eyes. Your brown eyes were showing a hint of gold with the reflection of the sun. You blinked as you felt your eyes glistening, starting to feel the warmth of your tears. You brought your hands up to cover your face. To avoid seeing you cry, Jay pulled you into his embrace. As he wrapped his arms around you, he whispered.

“And now I can be here for you, too.”

You brought your hands around Jay’s neck as he hugged you tight. The pain was gone now. The flashbacks disappeared too, replaced with vivid memories. Jay smiled as he buried his face in your neck.

“Why didn’t you tell me back then?” He asked as he pulled away to see you, but not taking his arms away from your waist.

“I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Is it okay now?” asked Jay.

You nodded and smiled.

“Are you going to leave again?” Jay’s tone changed and became mellow.

You shook your head. “Not unless I find someone better, but I doubt that.”

Jay laughed softly and ran his fingers through your hair. “Oh, one more thing.”

You tilted your head, a gesture of asking.

“How old are you now?”

You chuckled and hit Jay’s shoulder gently. “I’m 25.”

“Great. Still a noona to me,” Jay leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead before pulling you in for another giant hug, and silencing your complaints.

-END-

© seattlesolace 2023, all rights reserved dividers by @cafekitsune, jay's photo by KLTS420

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[jiminjamms]

sex therapy :: 15. disciplined

chapter tags/warnings: someone becomes your special teacher ;) straight-up degradation. dick sucking and facefucking. spanking. pet names ("kitten", "slut", "whore", "idiot"). nonconsenual undertones. infidelity/adultery. strong language. humiliation. classism. can be read as stand-alone!

word count: 3.6k

notes: happy new year, dear readers! apologies for not posting in a while. not that i lost motivation or got writer's block, but i was so busy with my last semester at university. i'm thankfully done now! enjoy the update! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

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“Because I wonder what would happen once I spread you over the car hood and took you right there.”

Holy—  

Choso’s words stirred awake fantasies that never before crossed your mind—how you would be perched on the Corvette, how Choso would press your legs to his chest, how he would slowly fuck himself into you, how your warm cunt would eventually get the better of him, how his cum would then drip onto the shiny blue metal of his car.

As the mental images left your heart seized in your chest, you twisted at your wedding band in anticipation—a habit you had yet to break.

“You…wouldn’t actually do that, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Although he exhaled to control his composure, nothing could hide the visible bulge under his black jeans, the sight sucking nearly all your willpower to avoid staring at the silhouette like a wanton whore.

“Because people would see us.” You then masked a thick swallow. “You would have to be crazy to fuck in public.”

“You think that’s crazy?” he repeated but did not seem insulted in the slightest. "Oh, I’ve done much, much crazier.”

Even crazier?

As much as you were concerned about the legality of his insinuations…That wild side of him, you wanted to see.

The thought alone left you holding your breath, blood rushing south when his hand began to run up and down your inner thigh.

The only thing that could distract you was how the inked ivy on his forearm flexed as he switched lanes, not that this new fixation stopped your squirming anyway. Still, you watched him swerve to the next exit and coolly navigate through a network of narrow and unlit roads, the convertible’s speed slowing considerably until he makes one final turn into an empty lot.

Choso, in one smooth motion, parked his Corvette in the spot where one could revere the Tokyo skyline glittering across the bay—although, in your honest opinion, the only view worth admiring was the stud beside you. The said man, however, turned off the engine and let go of your thigh, causing you to wince from the retracted warmth.

You nearly begged him to keep his hands on you until you watched him step off the vehicle, walking around the bumper with long strides to the shotgun seat, then gripping the handle and swinging the door open.

You stared dumbly at him, a gaze he returned with black-as-night eyes alive with some unreadable emotion. Before you could make any sense of your clouded thoughts, Choso leaned over slightly.

“Out,” he commanded. His voice had roughened up into a hoarse, his face shadowed with seriousness. “And get on your knees.”

The sheer egregiousness in his demand is enough to leave your heart stopping for a hard beat, especially since his height was formidable compared to the seated you. When you didn't respond immediately either, Choso’s long exhale from above grazed against your skin. He was losing his patience.

“C’mon now. I didn’t stutter. I gave you an order, idiot.”

Hands growing clammy, you avoided his stare. “But—"

Except Choso didn’t want to waste time dealing with your bullshit. He reached for you, his right hand darting outward and gripping your small wrist like a lifeline. Before you could even process much, Choso yanked you from your seat and essentially tossed you onto the ground.

You cried out as you stumbled and then fell onto your knees, hands instinctively planted on the concrete to support yourself. The new cuts on your palms would surely sting for the next few days, not to mention the red marks that his fingers also left on your wrist.

Although you try to stand up, the pain made you falter such that all you could do was sit up with your feet tucked neatly beneath your bottom. The gashes hurt, and Choso approached just as your eyes began to line with tears.

When his steps stopped mere inches away, your neck craned at an awful angle just to glare into the murky pool that was his eyes. “Are you insane?”

The jerk, handsome but enigmatic as always, shrugged. “Maybe.”

“So that’s a yes.” 

At that, a thumb thrust between your parted lips shut you up.

“Stop complaining,” Choso snapped, his voice the deepest and most demanding that it had ever been. His thumb shoved further past your lips, pressing at your tongue to keep you from talking, not caring how you were gagging on his finger by now. “I’m playing nice even after all the shit you’ve been pulling on me last night. I don’t see you whining with all those other guys you’ve been fucking. What’s the matter?”

Petty, you thought and then scoffed.

But Choso caught that.

He responded with a harsh pull at your jaw. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Rhetorical question. Choso already knew the answer, and his nostrils flared with irritation even as his free hand dangerously toyed with his fly.

“You know, I’ve been real patient with you, so show some respect, alright? My fingers didn’t even play with your pussy, but anyone could tell how wet you were in my car. And don’t think I didn’t notice you stealing glances at my boner earlier, you lil’ minx.” Noticing your eyes blow wide, his frown twisted into a smirk. Except everything evil about this felt so good when you caught sight of the piercings that gleamed by his ears. “What a dirty, dirty girl.”

So, he knew.

His comments were downright embarrassing—mortifying, even. Nonetheless, the humiliation stoked the flame of arousal within you anyway, possibly more so than you cared to admit. Choso was much more perceptive than you expected, which made sense given the skills he needed to assess sex-deprived clients during the day and stalk targets at night.

Therefore, when Choso eventually tore his thumb from your mouth, you thought that he finally took notice of your sorry state and pitied you.

That was until his other hand popped his jean button loose and tugged his zipper down.

You were stumped at first. With knees still pressed to the floor, you glanced at him from under your lashes, your lips puckered perfectly into a confused pout.

However, that confusion morphed quickly into realization once Choso lowered his jeans and boxers together, his large hands pulling the thick fabric down until the waistbands rested underneath his balls. His cock—thick and proud—sprung free and into the newly found freedom. Precum from the head oozed shamelessly down his shaft, the pretty pink tip mere millimeters from your nose.

Despite the depravity of this all, your heart fluttered at the sight, your stomach folding in sick anticipation.

Then, whatever premonitions you had were all confirmed with Choso’s one-word order: “Suck.”

Immediately, you panicked at the command. Just one glimpse at his twitching cock indicated that you would have trouble fitting that enormous dick any more than a few inches past your lips. You would gag.

Hell, you were sure to choke.

When a fear-filled lump coagulated at the back of your throat, you glanced up at Choso with your poor little puppy eyes, hoping that would distract him from his primal desires.

As if Choso would ever let you off the hook that easily.

“What?” he asked in the end, voice split between curiosity and impatience. “Haven’t given anyone a blowjob before?”

You decided not to answer; this wasn’t any of his business anyway.

Rather, you approached him meekly. When you wrapped one hand around the base, Choso hissed at the contact. His cock was already so hard, and from what? You had barely touched him, yet his dick spasmed from your grip, the foreskin sweltering hot against your roughed-up palms.

A harsh sting bloomed on your right cheek, only then realizing that Choso had slapped you right across the face.

“You’re losing focus, idiot. Pay attention to me.” His thumb prodded at your mouth again. “C’mon. Open up wide.” As he waited, he caught a strand of tousled hair between two long fingers, then delicately tucked the loose strands behind your ear. He peered down, giving you the sweetest sickliest smile a man can give. “You’re supposed to be a nice slut for me. Right, baby?”

Baby. He had you right there.

“Y...es,” you murmured. He had you wrapped around his finger, and you're suddenly too entranced to notice. "Yes...I am."

“Good. Then, I’ll show you how I like my cock sucked.”

What?

Before you could even process that last statement, Choso dug one large hand into your scalp. Messy strands now threaded through his spread-out fingers, he tugged forcefully at your hair—his warm fingertips pressed against your skull, his girthy cock suddenly shoved past your parted mouth, his fluids a foul bitter on your tongue, and his dark eyes wide at the moisture and warmth that sheathed him.

Tears, both due to the pain at your scalp and the burn at your throat, trickled down your flushed cheeks.

Breathe...

Even with your nose smushed against his crotch, even with your eyes popped wide open as you gurgled and gagged, you still had to breathe and soon the only other sensation aside from pain was that faint maple leaf scent that was so distinctly his.

“Oh...no, no, bimbo,” he hummed when you attempt to dig your nails into his skin, swatting your feeble hands away. “No touching. Bad girls aren’t not allowed to touch. Only I can. That’s what you get for not following my rules the other night. So, I’m going to hold your head, and you’re going stay still and be a good cocksleeve for me.”

Even if alarm bells should be going off in your head now, your heart palpitated at the prospects of what he just might do. Therefore, when you eventually nodded instead, Choso chuckled and muttered something about how you were always such a pretty little mess, such an ‘eager little pleaser.’

He had jerked off plenty, but there was nothing he loved more than having you completely under his control, fucking into your mouth with long and languid motions. He also loved hearing the noises that spilled from your mouth—the choked sobs that soon became garbled whimpers and breathy squeals.

Choso also always thought you were rather pretty, but when his eyes managed to leer downwards and saw what you looked like, mouth full of cock and spit dripping down your chin, he knew you’d never looked better.

For a man like himself, letting anyone see him this vulnerable was something that Choso had promised he would never do. Nonetheless, here he was...hamstrings tensing every time his tip bumped the back of your throat, fingers flexing each time his dick went in deeper than he thought possible. There was just something so different about seeing you on your knees, taking in his dick when his precum had already been bubbling from the tip.

“That’s right,” Choso hissed at some point, although you couldn’t tell how long he had been abusing your throat by then. Nothing aroused him more than to discipline with his dick and boy, did he love watching the way you bobbed your head back and forth, letting your saliva trail all over him. “Real fuckin’ sweet and obedient now, aren’t you? Do you follow directions this well for all those other therapists you fucked?”

You shook your head as his scrotum smacked into your chin, which Choso approved with a satisfied tug.

“Good.”

Muffled wails dropped from your mouth as he kept fucking your face, but he ignored you. After all, this was what you got for being so naughty. Plus, even if you thought his actions were entirely degrading before, the crazy thing was that you found this morbid fascinating now.

“Dumb, dumb puppy,” Choso chuckled when you unconsciously moaned around his cock.

As though to prove his point, Choso pulled his dick out of your mouth, marveling at how you whined at the emptiness. He didn’t want to keep you (or himself) waiting for too long though. Wordlessly, he pulled you up from the concrete even bewilderment riddled your expression.

“What are you—”

“One more word and I’ll make sure you won’t ever be able to use that throat again.”

So just like a well-behaved pup, you decided to shut up.

Once he led you to the front of the car, he slammed you onto the Corvette’s hood. As disoriented as you may be, he swiftly made a home between your thighs and manhandled you to his convenience—flipping you to your back, spreading your legs apart, hiking up the hem of your dress. After pawing at your pink panties, he finally pulled the fabric off in one smooth motion.

You didn’t know how or when, but you were utterly soaked. How embarrassing, the way your folds had lubricated themselves in anticipation. You unsuccessfully hid a shiver, not expecting the cool evening air to graze your sopping cunt.

“Fuck,” Choso groaned, liking what he sees. Nothing could hide the perverted glint in his gaze.

Holding you by your torso, he slid you halfway off the hood to roll his hips right next to yours. His cock bobbed as he readjusted himself, a few drops of precum landing on your skin. When he lines his cock with your slit, the face that he made when he finally had your wet cunt kissing his tip was obscene, but that was nothing compared to how your entire body shuddered in pleasure.

“F-Feels good,” you breathed, barely audible. You tried to catch your breath, clawing at his white sleeves and feeling up his arm muscles underneath in the process. How you wanted to hold onto him for dear life. “Feels so, so good.”

“I know.” He could tell from how you were practically begging for him to stuff you and, when he finally eased himself deep inside you, from how you would roll your eyes right to the back of your skull. He grinned. “So fuckin’ slutty.”

A choked moan dissipated from your lips when you felt the head pressing against your cervix. Soft, trembling...you were trying much too hard to be good. Nothing could compare to this utter gratification, his hard pelvis hitting your clit each time he forcefully plunged into you, sending waves from your abdomen up to your nipples.  

“Just like that,” you would say, over and over.

Choso Kamo would never admit this aloud, but he sure thought your kitten-like mewls sounded real cute up close. At the office, he had heard you moan and cry out before, but there was something nice knowing that he himself was the one making you feel this good. He sure doted on your cute expressions as well, the way your face would scrunch in pleasure, plush lips shaping into a perfect pout.

“Desperate bitch,” he said upon the soft plea of his name, although he was the one rutting through your folds like an animal in heat. “Always crying for people to stuff you. Such a whore.”

Fucked dumb, you nodded, not processing the shame of what he was saying.

“Yes, I am,” you hummed. If anything, his cold voice had only made you feel hotter. “Am your whore.”

“That’s right,” Choso sneered, your babbles the only words he had ever wanted to hear. “Let me hear you again. Don’t be shy—it’s just the two of us here. Keep acting like that, and I...I might just forgive you.”

Forgiven. You want to be forgiven.

Spurred by the possibility, you obeyed. An eager little pleaser indeed. Look at yourself, muttering all sorts of crude declarations until there was one that caught the therapist’s attention: “Use me like I’m all yours.”

Acting just like his little whore should.

Wholly satisfied, Choso picked up the pace, increasing his speed until he was hitting your g-spot with stunning accuracy. He anchored you by the hip with a firmer grip than necessary, making sure that every thrust would bring him back to the right place.

“Oh...” you sighed. Without looking, you could feel a mixture of slick and saliva trickle from you as he pounded harder—the juices sliding out from your cunt, down along your crack, and onto the metal underneath.

“Shit,” Choso mumbled once he caught sight of the scene. He swatted at your ass as a warning, ignoring your gasps in pain. “You’re making a mess of my hood. Messy girl with a messy cunt.”

How filthy.

Right when you were about to make more of a mess on the scene too.

With the familiar pressure building in your own lower abdomen, your teeth clamped your lower lip. Even that couldn’t stop the involuntary noise that eked from your throat—a whimper. But that was only because you were suppressing a pitiful melody of painful pants and sharp sputters in its stead.

“Choso,” you squeaked, nerves on fire at this point. “If you keep doing this...”

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso to pull him in, only for him to push you away. To properly admonish you, he slid a hand up your thigh and roughly squeezed at the flesh.

“Who gave you permission to enjoy yourself?” Choso snarled while you winced. He cocked his head too, which gave you a glimpse of his black ink-covered ink by his sweatshirt's collar. “This isn’t for your pleasure. This is to teach you a lesson.”

Before you could try defending yourself, he raised his right hand, which came down hard to strike at your ass. You yelped, so for his own sick reasons, he did this again and again and again until reddened marks littered your skin. What a nice color, quite appropriate for a naughty lassie like you.

After a particularly hard swat, tears started to prick again at your eyes.

“Stop! Please!” you cried out.

“Not until you show me that you're sorry.”

As far as Choso was concerned, all he wanted to do was discipline you—more specifically, break ­you—so that you would know to never mess with him again. He realized then and there that he liked to fuck you as he spanked you because he could never confess how much your pretty faces would egg him on.

“This is what you deserve,” he justified right as a large hand punished you once more.

“I’m sorry! I,” you gasped at another strike, but you...liked the pain? “I'm a bad, bad girl! I truly am sorry.”

As your stomach muscles tightened, your heels dug into his lower back and Choso responded with a low grunt.

His unforgiving thrusts were quickly losing their precision as well. At this rate, he might just blow his load earlier than he wanted to. He had originally hoped to pull out of your pussy and let you take his load down your throat, but he didn’t think that he would make it. That dick sucking earlier pushed him much closer to the edge than he originally thought.

“Think you earned my forgiveness?” 

You nodded. “‘M promising I won’t spread myself for anyone else again.”

This time, he slapped you across the face rather than your ass. “A complete fucking lie,” he scoffed, completely disappointed by how your tears were streaming down now. Weak. “Loose women like you can’t help taking more dick than they can handle. Right?”

“Yes!” you prattled, afraid of how else he would punish you if you disagreed. Not that he was wrong, per se. Steadying yourself, your small hands buried into his sleeves, watching how your juices were just pooling on his hood by now.

From above, Choso complained—something about how you were getting distracted again, but you couldn’t quite discern the words as a haze messed with your cognition. To bring you back to your senses, he delivered the most forceful blow on your left cheek instead.

“Just...Fuck...!” you screamed when the pain rushed straight to your pussy, causing you to slide right into a heated orgasm. The tight strings that had built in your stomach suddenly snapped, your jaw slacked as electricity shot from your core to your fingertips, causing you to twitch in uncontrollable ways. “Too much!”

Choso’s gruff grunt sunk into the night as you came around his cock, your puffy pussy gripping his length. He chased his own climax and dug his fingernails deep into your hips, surely leaving crescent-shaped marks on your unblemished skin. 

Knowing that he shouldn’t, Choso still peered down at the space where you’re connected, unable to resist the temptation. He riveted in the lewd image before his very eyes, your wet cunt still convulsing around his fat cock, the image far too much for him to handle especially when you’re making such a fucked out face.

“Take it,” he found himself saying unconsciously. “Take me, baby. Fuck—"

His words stopped short, whittling to nothing more than a low haggard rumble as he met his own end.

“Fucking take it,” was the last thing he said before he slumped over, pushing deep into you as his balls seized and released repeatedly, thick ropes of hot cum painting your inner walls with white.

Choked moans chorused into the evening, the sounds sucked into the nighttime’s void. For the first time this evening, peace and silence settled in, the heavy pants slowly giving way to even breaths.

After several more moments, Choso slipped out with a wet pop.

You blinked past the post-orgasmic haze, expecting to see him offer a disapproving look only to find that he was smirking. This man had fucking beautiful eyes, even when he wore the most mischievous expression.

Asshole.

“I’ll accept your apology. Since you’ve made things up for me.” Leaning over, he planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, his nicest gesture to you ever. He pulled his pants back on and then gently swiped a thumb over your bum, at a spot where the bruises hurt the most. “I won’t even hold you for the mess you’d made on my car.”

Flustered, heat suffused your face. "Thank...you."

He fished his Corvette keys from his back pocket, ready to pop open the trunk. "Let me return your little dress from last night, too."

"Thank you...again."

"Of course, baby."

Choso would never say this, but he was smitten. Look at how polite you were now, almost as though you were a changed woman. All that took was a little teaching.

"Then, shall we head back?" That was no question. That was an order. "I want Naoya Zenin to see you like this."

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: 1) choso is so mysterious in canon—and I LIVE for it. i did my best to convey that obscurity, dominance, and sexiness in his character here. 2) also, his blue corvette is a reference to that line in eiffel 65's blue. that 1990s song lives in my mind rent free.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @pulchritxde-blog @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @hinativity @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @piqer @nobody289x @chaoticjojofan​ @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @nemoyr @tsukiyohanayome @tokyometronetwork​ @downtown-roponggi​ @the-cosmos-network

[lovehotelreservation]

Hunting for Sport

Summary: He was seen as The Outlaw to many. But to you--especially after what you’ve done to him--he was your hunter.

[Contains plot spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI]

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: F!Reader/Clive

i was up until 4 am yesterday to finish ff16  🚬🚬

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

There was a bounty on your head.

A piece of parchment with your face illustrated across, a hefty lump sum of gil stamped right beneath.

Who could resist trying their luck for such a splendid prize?

But being wanted so much was why you were currently meandering through the bustling streets of Kanver. Grand boulevards lined with shops and stalls offering the finest wares and goods in all of Valisthea, enticing big crowds to peruse–which, in turn, allowed for you to blend in easily without being noticed, especially with the hood of your cloak drawn over your head.

Even in the case of drawing suspicion amidst the hubbub, a quick turn into a nearby alleyway or striking up conversation with an earnest merchant was enough to shake off any attention.

Of course, there was one point to be made: Why go through such lengths when you could seek comfort in the shadows?

And the answer to such a question was simple.

It was as you were approaching a busy intersection at the heart of one of Kanver’s beloved marketplaces when a shadow loomed above you from behind, a soft yet gruff “Pardon me” uttered before you felt someone shift beside you to move on ahead.

The calm expression on your features broke into mischievous glee as you immediately took a few steps back.

That towering herculean physique, clothes, cape and armor of fine crimson and sturdy obsidian, the fine brisk hairs of a beard along his chiseled jaw that barely masked the strikingly distinct scar on his cheek, a grand and gorgeous sword sheathed on the scabbard that hung on his back, and–most captivatingly of all–those darling deep blue eyes that stared out ahead, narrowed ever so slightly in focus.

The Outlaw.

By his infamous renown, he was the only man you would ever entertain the thought of being apprehended by.

You readied to disappear back into the crowds.

That would have to wait for another day, another city, however.

But as you stepped back once more, it was right when you turned that you realized that those captivating blue eyes were no longer facing forward.

They were facing directly to your direction, straight right into your eyes.

His gaze thinned and his eyebrows furrowed as he shifted into a far more hawkish stance while his mouth uttered one word.

A word that made your eyes glitter with thrill and your lips curl into a wide grin.

Your name.

Your instincts roared at you to flee and so you did.

The hunt was on.

Kanver’s streets were to be the playing grounds while The Outlaw was to be your predator.

And as appealing as it sounded with how utterly handsome he was, you were in no mood to be easy prey.

Prior to this encounter, you had your means of discretely slipping back into the shadows. Yet for every moment you heard the heavy thuds of his armored boots a bit too close for your liking, you went from trying to slip back into the crowds to barrelling yourself through as much as you could, for ven a moment’s hesitation could result in being seized by the clawed grip of The Outlaw.

Forward, onward. 

A sharp turn around a corner. 

Kicking at a barrel to obstruct a path. 

Weaving in and out from street to shop.

The threat of his hand finally grabbing at the back of neck felt closer with each attempted swipe.

It was as you rushed through the empty storage hall of an abandoned store front that you then decided to tear off your cloak, tossing it back behind you as one last effort to hold him up before you would try to find refuge elsewhere.

Not that you needed your cloak to begin with.

Even with your hood on, The Outlaw had gazed upon your hunting bill far too long much within his personal quarters to mistake you.

After all, you were the one to send the parchment to him in the first place.

Your fingers immediately tugged at the front tie and clasp of your cloak just before tossing it back behind you while you dug deep into the well of your energy to sprint as fast as you could.

And then, you heard a burst of flame behind. 

The cool seaside air behind you was replaced by the brush of scorching heat, soon replaced by the natural warmth of flesh as a big sturdy arm immediately wrapped around your waist before pulling you back against a broad and chiseled chest, an action that was more smooth rather than brutish.

You barely could get a gasp out, your eyes wide and jaw slack in surprise.

The hunt was over but The Outlaw was far from done.

Your name was uttered once more right as you were drawn into a turn, your eyes soon finding themselves gazing right up into his.

All while your lips were soon claimed by his own.

So hungry, so yearning.

Passion was in the heart of its ferocity.

One that you were happy to reciprocate in return.

Yet as the two of you pulled away for air, you finally got a few words out in a huff.

“Using magic? That’s not fair, Clive…!”

You were met with a small grin in response. 

“Did you expect an outlaw to play fairly?” He chuckled just before kissing you once again, all while his hands reached to grab at your backside. “Then again, I’d say we’re eye to eye on this after what you did…”

Your pout was replaced by a satisfied smile as you recalled the last night you spent together, just before you took off for a mission towards the Easternmost coast of Storm.

You and him at his study, his desk a mess of paperwork and letters. His wrists were bound behind him while he remained seated, his teeth gritted tight as he fought back to groan and snarl too loudly while you rode his cock, bouncing up and down his lap. You made sure to brush your breasts right against his chest, knowing fully well that all he craved was to have his hands on you, to please you as much as you pleased him.

Though, you were more of the mind to be far more wicked, for it was as he was ready to release that you suddenly got off of him, breaking your kiss with him to instead bring your lips to his ear while your hand wrapped around the base of his cock to bring him to orgasm, his seed staining your fingers instead of spilling inside of you as he so desperately wanted.

The devastation on his face was too precious for words.

Joining you, being close to you, being one with you–that was what he cherished most.

It was teasingly cruel, you knew.

Yet how could you resist wickedness around him?

Witnessing those deep tender blue eyes of his become stormy with burning desire was a sight you were simply addicted to beholding.

And thus, if he wanted to receive what he wanted from you, he would just have to hunt you down, as you sweetly murmured into his ear.

You were gone before the last knot of the ropes around his wrists unraveled.

Now you were here, caught and caged against him while he kissed your mouth, his hands caught between pulling at your clothes to outright tearing at the fabric, urgency in his pace and touch.

What a joy it was to be hunted by him.

Your body, his bounty.

Your heart, his prize.

You, his.

[wayvlocks]

ℳ𝓊𝓉𝒾𝓃𝓎 & ℳ𝒶𝒹𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 Pt. 1

synopsis: you’re a nurse who finally got promoted to work with a psycho.

pairing: ateez hongjoong x afab reader

word count: 1.8k

genre: psycho au, fantasy au, possessed pirates au

warnings: minors DNI!, not really smut yet but def will be warned for the rest of the series - HONGJOONG IS A PERV, so theres some sexual and/or dark themes  -  if you are uncomfy about psychiatric hospitals - this may not be for you as I might mention a few things within the series to come.

Chapters: Part I, Part II

additional notes: hi :) wayvlocks here. just wanted to say thank you to those who commented and liked my last post about making this ff happen. tbh i am planning to make this into a series fyi so hopefully you guys are interested in seeing where it goes. idk how many parts there will be - i just kinda make this crap up as i go and as i please lol. i wanted to also mention to those of you who will want to actively read this series, that i am a full time college student. therefore, i really can upload when i can, im sorry - i just dont have the same set schedule every day/week. anyway, enough about me, read this ff (its what you were here for in the first place)

You’ve been working at KQ Psychiatrics, in the outpatient clinic for a few years now, and you finally were able to get that promotion you worked so hard for. Years of pushing yourself more than ever, taking time off the clock to visit VIP patients, and even volunteering in the cafeteria paid off. Little did you know your promotion was an assignment change to work in the Special Cases department.

The Special Cases department was famous in the outpatient clinic. There was never a boring day when gossip floated around of a patient in the Special Cases department. There were so many rumors about patients that you had heard, and they were starting to turn your stomach with thoughts about your new promotion.

Staff1: “Did you hear what happened to Mr. Nakamoto during his medication time last week?”

Staff2: “Yes! I heard he manipulated the previous nurse on duty to go into his room!”

Staff3: “Oh my god! That's right! When she went in, he jumped her, ripped up her clothes and stabbed her in the legs with a spork!”

You thought you were lucky enough not to be assigned as a personal nurse to someone like Mr. Nakamoto. Of course, since the reveal of the true nature of your “promotion,” you haven’t truly experienced luck today. Furthermore, your bad luck deepens when it's revealed to you who you really are assigned to. The most insane, manipulative, possessive, wicked – rumored murderous man held in the hospital…

Kim Hongjoong

Kim Hongjoong was notoriously famous amongst the patients and staff. He has been housed in the hospital for nearly 5 years now. He was 17 when he was taken from his home to be permanently kept here. Hongjoong is the patient who is talked about the most, especially between other patients. They have rumored the reason he got taken from his home was because he murdered his family after having some “alternate dimension revelation” – whatever that means. The creepiest rumors you’ve heard is that sometime at night, after lights out, he disappears from his room – just “poof.” After five to ten minutes, he reappears like nothing happened. You can’t really seem to trust these rumors, after all, most of them come from the Psychiatric patients who are known to hallucinate. However, you remember one staff member telling you that he does in fact disappear.

•             •             •

You just finished clocking in, today is the day, a new job position. You make your way to the main doctor’s office to tell them you're here. One of them, proceeds to walk towards you. His coat reads:

Dr. Joshua Hong.

Joshua: “Hello Y/n, find everything okay in your Special Cases pamphlet?” He said with a quiet chuckle.

Y/n: You started to force a smile. “Ah, yes. It was somewhat informative.”

Joshua: “It shouldn't be too bad, just making sure they get their medications and sunshine,” he smiled.

Y/n: “I think I can handle that for the most part. It’s just... just...” you mumble.

Joshua: “Hm?”

For a moment you don't say anything, but before you opened your mouth, he knew.

Joshua: “Ah… you’re Kim Hongjoong’s nurse. I remember reading through the new nurses' files earlier this morning.”

Y/n: “Yes...”

Joshua: “Hm. Listen, I’ll walk you to the department and show you around, if you need me to. I can even stand by when you meet him for the first time today. The last nurse he had didn’t go through with that idea and ended up quitting within an hour.”

You thought about what he said for second. Is that true? You now wonder how malicious and sinister he could be to ruin a conversation that ended with a nurse quitting. As you stood there, stressing about meeting this Kim Hongjoong, you noticed Joshua staring at you for a response.

Y/n: “I’d love for you to show me around the department. About meeting him though...”

You stopped for a second. You thought despite all the rumors surrounding your famous patient, you realized how hard you worked for this new promotion. Think back to showing how your hardworking skills paid off, you really didn't want to show up the first day looking afraid or weak. You knew deep down you could probably handle this guy; I mean, you would barely have to talk to him, right?

“…I think I’ll be fine on my own.”

•            •             •

Joshua leads you down the halls, passing many different patient rooms and offices. At the start of the walk, you passed by rooms of patients that you had often checked out in the lobby or held conversations with daily. Some waved or spoke quiet hellos to you, which you exchanged back.

As your walk continued you started to notice the difference between every hallway, traveling further into the hospital, getting closer towards the Special Cases department. There were less patients you could recognize while the rooms kept getting duller and duller. It started to look grayer than before. You also noticed many of the patient’s rooms had bars on the windows or doors.

The rooms you passed had no pictures on the walls. There were safety locks on door and window handles. One room you passed, had stains on the floor leading from the door to the bed. It was the most shocking image on your walk. You read the patient’s tag outside the door, reading ‘Choi San’. You weren’t sure what the stains were, but it bothered you that they ranged in colors from yellow to red.

Joshua: “Hey are you okay?” You quickly came back to after zoning out.

Y/n: “Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

Joshua: “I just noticed you were blankly staring at some of the rooms. It must feel super different being down here than in the lobby for you, doesn’t it?”

Y/n: “Actually… yes. Everything is so gray and there were weird stains- “

Joshua: “Oh, yeah. Don’t mind those. Honestly, it’s better to just go about your day. I’ve heard too many stories when I asked about them my first day. Not an answer you wanna hear,” he smiles.

You were in shock. You started to have second doubts, again. You looked at his smile and felt like you weren’t entirely sure if you could believe him. You wondered if it was true, what the answer could possibly be. It was obvious he was just trying to make you aware that the less you know the better. Just then, Joshua immediately stops walking. You nearly bump into him because you were zoning out again.  

You look up past his shoulder in front of you. There’s a seven-foot metal door with a small bulletproof window and slightly rusted hinges. A guard behind the other side of the giant door looked through the small window. Joshua held up his ID and then proceeded to move out of the way to show you hiding behind his figure. The guard unlocked five or six latches until the door finally screeched open. You walked through the door frame, only to be in another hallway, only this time the walls looked like pebble stone or rocks with no windows.

Guard: “And this is…?” He looked down at you, still hiding behind Joshua.

Joshua: “Oh, this is Y/n,” he smiled. “She is going to be Mr. Kim’s new personal nurse.”

Guard: “Really huh? I hope she’s mentally strong enough for that bastard. Fucker said the most disgusting things to the last nurse he had.”

Joshua: “I’m sure she can handle it. Didn’t you hear? She’s the one who got the promotion quickly for her volunteer work. She was personally recommended by the head nurse when the top doctors had that monthly meeting.”

You started feeling flustered hearing this new information from Joshua. The head nurse? You thought the staff in charge of filling this position just got desperate for someone. You started to think maybe you specifically chosen, that others thought you could do this job. This idea started to block out anymore doubts you had about yourself. Now you knew that you were in fact strong enough for this position.

You and Joshua exchanged smiles with the door guard and walked down the dismal hallway. At some point you reached a set of stairs, leading down towards a smaller hallway with lights. You and Joshua both walk down the stairs carefully, then walking through the shorter hall. There was a caved-out room with what seemed like jail bars separating the cell from the rest of the hall. You saw a person standing in the cell, turned away from the bars. Joshua faked a cough to get the person’s attention, causing them to slowly turn towards you. You started eyeing this figure from his bare feet to the gray sweatpants and then the matching, loose t-shirt. He was holding an old leatherback book in his left hand, to which you saw a small birthmark. You noticed a distinctive mole on the left side of his neck. The second you saw the face, you could tell. Hongjoong. He was attractive. His hair was dyed, split black and white. He had a pointed nose that was slightly upturned and full, barely defined cupid’s bow lips. The most prominent feature you saw was his thick long eyebrows. Following down to his almond shaped, dark brown eyes, which were staring intensely at you. He smiled devilishly.

Joshua: “Mr. Kim, this is youre new nur- “ Hongjoong chuckled, still smiling devilishly directly at you only.

Hongjoong: “Yes I know exactly who this is. Don’t need to be told something I already know, isn’t that right darling?” You looked right at him, feeling tense.

Joshua: “Right of course, Mr. Kim.” You swore you could hear Joshua curse Hongjoong under his breath. You bite your tongue as Joshua take a step back and gives you a goodbye. You’re alone with him now.

•             •             •

Y/n: “Hello Mr. Kim…” you timidly stated.

Hongjoong: “Please darling,” practically staring into your soul, “call me Hongjoong. No need to be formal with me.”

Y/n: “Right… Hongjoong.” You took a deep breath and thought about the pamphlet you were given. Reviewing all the information in your head on the spot. “So, I’m assuming you already have gone over the schedule with the doctors. I can only work with you on certain days with minimal hours. Do you understand?”

Hongjoong: “It is not to my liking. I’d rather spend more time with you, darling. Get to know you better. Afterall, you’re going to learn about my dirty little secrets. Shouldn’t I know a few things?” He looks up and down at you, fixating his eyes on your pelvic area to your chest. You already feel disgusted, trying to cover yourself with your hands and his patient paperwork.

“I can tell we’re already off to a great start... Y/n.”

[thinkingfandoms]

An accurate list of the best movies I've ever seen

This list also includes reasons that are all too objective and nonsensical. Avoid asking too many questions. And share what you think in the comments!

Hercules

Hercules is probably my favourite Disney movie. And I also think that's where my interest in Greek mythology started. Hades is my favorite villain from this company and he's such a mood.

The Prince of Egypt

Oh dear you don't know how much I love this movie. I know every song by heart and was lucky enough to sing them with my choir. I'm a big fan of animation and despite how old is this movie, I think it remains one of the best ever produced. I cried more times over this movie than over all the others on this list combined.

Friends & Family

I only discovered this film this year but it quickly became one of my favorites. I have never laughed for so many consecutive minutes at a movie. I approached it because it's unusual to see a gay mob-themed movie, but I immediately fell in love with all the characters and the final scene remains one of the most comic I have ever seen.

Treasure Planet

I have a soft spot for animated films about great adventures and self-discovery. Jim has been my only animated crush for years, and his story has always resonated with something inside of me (maybe the desire for adventure and his recklessness, idk). Plus, of course, "'I'm Still Here" is one of the most beautiful soundtracks ever created.

Howl's Moving Castle

One of the first films I saw by Studio Ghibli and my absolute favourite. The love stories created by this Studio are always wonderful, and this one is no different. Plus I always saw myself in Sophie (especially about the crush on Howl) and, well, there's Calcifer, what more do you want?

Les Choristes

Another thing I love: movies about music. It may be that I've been playing an instrument for years and singing in choirs, but I've always cried watching kids rediscover a new side of themselves through music and songs. And these songs are composition's masterpieces. I still remember them all by heart even though French isn't my native language.

A Christmas Carol

I'm slightly obsessed with this story, with Charles Dickens and with Christmas. I was born on Christmas Eve so you can imagine how close this theme is to my heart. I have seen several versions of this story though, and for some reason, this one remains my favourite. It may be that it's different from other more colourful versions and really shows the darkness behind the original story, idk.

How to Train Your Dragon

I literally grew up with this saga: I was 8 years old at the first film, 12 at the second and 17 at the third. I watched Hiccup grow up with me as a friend and Toothless as a fellow adventurer. I'll forever be grateful to Dreamworks for creating the best-animated saga that cinema has ever seen.

The Three Musketeers

This movie is so random that it's perfect. I watched it again recently (after like 8 years) and realized that maybe my daddy issues come from this movie: Luke Evans, Orlando Bloom and the freaking Mads Mikkelsen together, seriously? I'm not surprised it was one of my favourite movies growing up.

A Monster in Paris

The love I have for this film is enormous. I could never get over the beauty of the songs in it. The characters are so well written and Francœur will always be in my top animated characters. It's too amazing to be real.

Rise of the Guardians

I could talk for hours about this film and have not even touched the tip of the iceberg. I have an insane obsession with all the characters, starting with and especially Jack, my top animated crush for years. It's all so perfect that I don't see how people never nominate it when it comes to top animated movies.

The Hobbit

Again, I have serious problems with films about fantasy adventures. I have always preferred The Hobbit saga to its sequel because the story has always fascinated me more. And the main character especially: for me Bilbo >>>> Frodo. And then there's Thorin and Luke Evans. You know, daddy issues.

Mune: Guardian of the Moon

Another French animated movie, another obsession, another adventure, another animated character in my top. This is an example of how to do good animation. There isn't a colour out of place. The settings are authentic, the characters are original, and the adventure they make gets me every time.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

I'm maybe a Muggle, but I prefer Fantastic Beasts to the Harry Potter saga. That's not to say it's better, mind you, but it reflects me more. We all know how we Hufflepuffs (and Ravenclaws) have no real representation in the HP movies, so to be able to have at least one prequel saga starring a Hufflepuff (in which I also find myself far too much) as the protagonist is wonderful. And I have an unhealthy urge to become a magizoologist.

The Greatest Showman

It's the movie I have watched the most of these. I know every song by heart and every line too. It always manages to be a roller coaster of emotions. And it has Hugh Jackman in it.

The Boy Foretold By The Stars

I'm a big supporter of the Philippine's film company. This is one movie is gentle, funny, and not based on the usual drama between Christianity and LGBT+ people (which is what I thought when reading the plot at first). Moreover, another underrated thing, the Philippines' music company here has thrown in masterpiece after masterpiece of songs, perfect for this movie.

Bros

This is my top comfort film in the last year. It's like watching a Hallmark movie but hotter, much more sincere and gay. Very gay. And the relationship between the two main characters is so cute and sweet. And funny.

Top Gun: Maverick

I love this saga but especially love this particular chapter. I love Maverick and his relationship with Rooster, and all the other characters are so well-written. And don't get me started on the story... I LOVE it. There isn't much else to say except that Cruise is a great actor (and a terrible person).

Glass Onion - Knives Out

I love my silly little gay detective. And I have a little passion for movies and mystery series. I found this saga's chapter more compelling than the first one, and the characters gripped me more. Also I fell in love with the setting. Oh and then there are Daniel Craig and Hugh Grant.