#got so fed up with reading that I couldn’t do it anymore

[lordoftheelves]

I’ve read 22 books this year. Just finished the last one. I did want to read more this year, and I definitely did! But I stressed too much abt it instead of using reading as a way to relax and distract myself. But that’s what I’m gonna do in 2024. Not gonna care abt the number. Just gonna try to actually enjoy the act of reading

[dinogoofymutated]

You asked for some smut suggestions for Logan, and I got one:

So like…I mean…Logan might be on the short side, but he’s still big! I mean, like,,,those hands 🫣 It would be nice to see a fic to do with Logan and a little manhandling. but not like in a BDSM way, more like a “I am very strong, and here’s a little reminder” type way. Might seem kinda silly but I’d enjoy a fic like that lol.

NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB!Reader Ask and you shall receive!! I've spent like the last four days working on this and atp I can't looks at it anymore lol. I'm not super happy with how the beginning is written, but I still think it's alright enough to post lol. It's a lot more tell than show compared to most of my other fics, and I was halfway tempted to reformat it into headcannons, but I didn't feel like it. Anyway, hope you like the way I included the manhandling lol! Hope it turned out okay :) Also, might or might not be tall logan. I'll leave it up to yall to assume, I'm just short af so there's not a single person in marvel who wouldn't have to look down at me lmao.

Edit:FUCK I FORGOT THE READ MORE! TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Seriously, you will be blocked. Masterbation, lil bit of a scent kink. Sexual frustration. Manhandling. Jealous Logan. Creampie. Logan calls you "sunshine" and pretty and shit. I'll add more if I can think of any.

    You had a problem. You’ve had a problem. And it really didn’t seem like it was getting any better. It didn’t help the fact that it was incredibly embarrassing, either.

    You couldn’t get off. It’s not like you ever struggled with it before, but lately, it felt like you were fighting a losing battle. At first, you didn’t realize why. Maybe it was because you moved into the X-Mansion. Nerves because you’re living somewhere new, right? So you change it up a little. You got comfortable, had a glass of wine or two, and picked up a raunchy book. Yet every time you slipped your hand between your thighs… Running circles around your own clit, trying your best to finger yourself to your finish, you just could never quite hit that peak. It was safe to say you were beyond frustrated.

    Lucky for you, most people didn’t notice. You try your best not to be too uptight or mean, but there are just some things that you can’t quite hide from certain people.

    Logan’s noticed that something is up with you. You can tell he has, seeing the looks on his face, nose scrunched up in a way he’s catching into something that he just can't quite place. You’re assuming it’s your own pheromones, but hey, as long as he doesn’t realize what it is you’ll be fine, right?

     Maybe not.

    Eventually, you finally realized why you were having so much trouble getting off. All it took was one training session with Wolverine, and you knew immediately. You weren’t sparring or anything like that, hell, you knew before you even hit the danger room floor. Logan was in a bit of a mood today, although not as grumpy as he can be- and he’s trying to be patient with you. You can tell. But you’re having trouble focusing today- and you have been for a while. He can tell you’re not at 100% just by the way you hold yourself, and spends about 5 minutes watching as you struggle to reset the Danger room panel before he’s finally fed up with it.

    “Jesus fuck. Here, let me do it.” Logan grabs you by the waist, pulling you to his chest with one arm as the other reaches around you to reset the panel. It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive before, but the close contact? The smell of his aftershave and the sound of his voice growling in your ear? 

    oh.

    Oh. 

    You were having trouble getting off because you had a thing for Logan.

    You’re practically stunned when he pulls away, standing there with a flushed face and something rather embarrassing pooling in your underwear for the first time in a while. You had to quickly excuse yourself before you ran the risk of him catching onto anything coming from you. He’s a little confused for a second, but you can hear the sound of his low chuckle as you scramble away.

    First thing you do? Go to the store.

    It's not a random errand. At least, not entirely. You had meant to go out with Storm to grocery shop later this afternoon, but you told her you could really use some time out of the house by yourself, which she completely understood. You had the list and everything, it was only a coincidence that you passed by the cologne section on your way to pick up some toothpaste. The sight made you stop for a minute, the gears grinding in your skull. You spent just a few minutes curiously sampling the bottles until you found one that smelled a bit familiar… Should you? No, that's a bit strange. But really, what was the harm, right? I mean, who would know? 

    So you bought it. You felt a bit embarrassed afterward, knowing what you bought it for, and ended up letting it sit in the drawer of your side table for a good while. Until another desperate attempt at fucking your own brains out, that is. 

    You were sweaty and uncomfortable in your bed, sleep shirt sticking to your skin as you struggled to pump your fingers in and out of your tight cunt. It’s been a while, and it shows. You couldn’t even get your favorite dildo to fit inside of you, only adding to your frustration. Touching your clit hardly helped much, leaving you as unsatisfied as ever. Eventually, you give up, lying there as you sigh to yourself. You turn over in your bed in a huff, halfway temped scream your lungs out into the pillow you bury your face in. Instead, you let out something that sounds more like a whisper than a yell, letting the air in your lungs deflate as you let your feelings out. You roll over onto your side when you’re done, halfway tempted to be done with it entirely and go back to bed when you catch sight of the nightstand drawer, slightly ajar. The amber bottle of liquid stares right at you. 

    You open the drawer some more, picking up the bottle and looking at it as you wonder if you’re actually going to do this. But you’re ridiculously horny, and tired, and you know you’re gonna have trouble falling asleep in the state you’re in- so you end up spraying the smallest amount on your pillow.

    It’s…nice. The pillow is warm from where you had been laying on it, and despite how strong men’s cologne could be, this one isn’t quite so striking. At least, not in the amount that you used. You relax back into your bed, pressing your face into the pillow and laying there for a moment. You start thinking about Logan… His calloused hands running across your skin. How his lips and tongue would feel against your own, trailing down your body to your breast. Your hand trails down to your clit as you imagine it as his own. You imagine him behind you, pressing you to the bed as he growls into your ear. You think about what his happy trail would feel like against you. What his cock would look like, feel like, pressing into you. Your legs twitch and shake as you see stars underneath your eyelids, the scent of Logan hitting all the right parts in your head and going straight to your cunt.

    Holy shit. 

    Your orgasm lasts what feels like forever. Your legs are still shaking as you whimper from oversensitivity and pull your hand away, panting as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t cum that hard since… ever. Maybe the cologne was worth it, after all.

    You felt really good the morning after. You found yourself humming in the shower, more energized at breakfast and morning drills. No one had said anything, but you knew there were a few who were relieved to see you back to your usual self. If anything, the only person you noticed acting very differently around you was Logan. He was more tense than normal. He scowled a lot, spending less time in your presence. You’d strike up a conversation that would only last a few minutes before he would make an excuse and leave. It made you a little disappointed. But you knew him and knew he had good and bad days, so you brushed it off at first. But a week, two weeks- almost a month went by, and still no change. You felt scorned almost, silently rejected by the guy you had finally realized you were practically in love with, and to be honest, the only man who could get you off just by thinking about him- and boy, did you get off while thinking about him. 

    You’ve almost resigned yourself to the fact that Logan wasn’t interested when he corners you one morning. He’s leaning up against the wall of the hallway,  waiting for you when you step out of your room. It makes you jump a little, closing your door quickly behind you, knowing damn well you hadn’t washed your sheets after fucking yourself to the moon and back last night and fully not wanting the smell to hit his nose. All Logan does is narrow his eyes. Shit.

    “Who is he.” He asks you. The question completely derails your train of thought. And you furrow your brow, confused. What was that about?

    “Who is he? Your guy?” He asks again, but it does little to clear up your confusion. You’re halfway wondering if he’s being serious at this point, stepping away from your door as you cross your arms.

    “What?” You ask. Logan huffs when you respond to him, cocking his head at you in a way that's more sarcastic than curious. The way he’s looking at you is doing some things that you don’t think you’d like to admit, eyes narrow and scrutinizing as you struggle to keep eye contact with him.

    “What do you mean? What guy?” You repeat back to him, starting to get a little frustrated. He snorts, rolling his eyes as his scowl lingers. He steps closer, looking down at you from less than a foot away with that angry stare.

    “Don’t play stupid with me, sunshine. I can smell him on you.” You ignore the way the nickname makes you shiver a little bit, too busy shrinking into yourself when you process the extent of his words. Smell. He could smell someone on you. Something. Oh god, this was embarrassing. 

    “Oh! That- It’s not what you're thinking!” You say, face flushed red. You’re flustered beyond belief, doing your best to convince him to leave it be, and it’s not going so well for you.

    “Sure it’s not.” Logan huffs. He starts to take steps forward, closing in on your personal space.

    “It’s not. I can promise you that.” You’re anxiously fiddling with your fingers now, taking a step back for every step he takes. He looked predatory, unlike any time you’ve seen him before. You haven’t even seen him like this in the danger room, even less so on the battlefield. 

    “Just tell me who he is.” Logan is adamant about it, his scowl beginning to turn into a frown. Your back hits your door, kickstarting your heart in surprise. You hadn’t realized he had backed you up so far.

    “I can’t!” You say, in the beginning stages of becoming absolutely exasperated, and already incredibly embarrassed. 

    “Why not!?” Logan Snaps, stopping just inches away from you. You cover your heated face, pressing your palms into your eyes until you see shapes, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die right then and there.

    “Would you just leave it!” You shout, but Logan’s having none of it. 

    “No, I won't!” Logan grabs your wrists and moves them away from your face, holding them in front of your chest with a grip lighter than you might have thought. You groan in utter frustration and mortification, looking him dead in the eyes as your angry mouth starts speaking before your reasonable brain can fully catch up.

    “Jesus Christ Logan! Do you expect me to just whip out the silicone and show you?!” Your eyes widen as soon as you say it, slamming your mouth shut as you finally catch up with yourself. Logan is staring at you in absolute shock, jaw almost slack at the confession. 

    “...What?” He asks, slowly. You wince, looking off to the side before deciding it's a bit too late to get the cat back into the bag.

    “Its… Cologne. What you’re smelling. I use it to uh, help me…” You make a sort of gesture with your head, praying that you won’t actually have to spell it out for him. He’s still in shock as he looks at you, hands frozen with his fingers wrapped around your wrists. He clears his throat when he comes to, an unreadable expression on his face as he slowly steps forward again, close enough to press his forehead against your own as he presses you against your door.

    “You’re that pent up, you need cologne to help you get off?” He asks, and you don’t know what to say, cat catching your tongue as he leans forward. The side of his face brushes against your cheek as he leans down a little, the action making your skin prickle. One of his hands releases a wrist to slide up and across the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side as he takes a big sniff of your skin. He’s practically nuzzling you, angling his head so that he can smell the scent on the back of your head where you rest against your pillow at night. 

    He’d noticed it before, at night when most of his anger had worn off, sometime after he started to pick up the scent on you. The undertones, the top notes. But now with you this close, he can tell that it wasn’t another man he was smelling. No. It was just you. Your scent being drowned out by the smell of something that he could finally tell smelled rather suspiciously like his very own aftershave.

    “...Don’t tell me that you wanted it to smell like me.” He asks after a moment. You almost flinch at the sound of his deep rumble, turning your red face away from him. You swallow, feeling like you are absolutely burning up as you nod- right as Logan catches the unmistakable scent of arousal.

    “Fuck”

    You’re sure the sound was more animal than man as he cups your cheek rather aggressively, pressing his lips against your own in a rather desperate kiss. It takes you a second to return it, eyes wide as you process just what was happening. It didn't take long for you to melt into his desperate kisses though, every nip and brush of his teeth just like you imagined it would be. He presses his knee in between your thighs, finally releasing your other wrist to grab ahold of your hip instead. You accidentally let out a whine when he grinds your hips against him, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to explode. He curses again at the sound, both hands sliding around you to lift you against the door.

    You practically squeak in surprise, the noise caught by Logan’s mouth on your own one more time before he trails down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You gasp as he presses against you, his hips beginning to grind against your own. You’re having a hard time thinking, biting your lip as you do your best to stifle your sounds.

    “Logan-ah, can we… head inside, please?” He only grunts in response, shifting your weight as you both begin to fumble for the doorknob. He gets it before you do, hardly stumbling as the door behind you swings open. He’s kissing you again before the door is even closed, kicking it behind him. As preoccupied as you are, you at least have the common sense to reach over and try to lock the door before he carries you over to the bed. 

    He plops you down onto the mattress before he crawls over you, eyes half-lidded and just as lustful as your own. He pushes you down as you try to sit up. His breathing a little hard, pupils dilated to a size you had never seen.

    “Now I know why you closed the door so fast,” Logan smirks, having picked up the lingering scent of your sex on the sheets right away. You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off. His tongue snakes into your mouth, and you find that you can’t really remember what you were going to say anyway. He kisses you again and again, distracting you as he reaches above your head. He pulls away when he has the pillow in hand, and you know just by the look on his face that he knows exactly what he is holding.

    “Hate to break it to you, but this doesn’t exactly compare to the real thing.” He snarks. It makes you laugh, and for the first time in a while, you see a genuine smile spread across his face. 

    “Yeah.” You respond, taking the pillow from his hands and tossing it to a far-off corner. “I know.” You could revel in his smile for as long as he’d let you. Logan’s kisses start off sweeter this time, at least for a moment they did. They begin to become more and more rough as hands start to wander and clothes start to come off. His shirt is first to go, your hands running up and down the hair that spans his torso. Logan is quick to remove your shirt and bra in one go, one very small step away from cutting off your clothes entirely. He gives himself a minute to appreciate your breasts, pinching and teasing you by sliding a hand up the middle of your sternum, the back of his hand brushing the side of a tit as he watches you squirm underneath him, arching your back to push your chest out, practically begging him to finally touch you.

    “Patience is a virtue, Sunshine.” Logan says, causing you to scoff. You glare at him a little and all it does is make him chuckle a bit. 

    “Don’t be mean.” You whine. He laughs a bit harder as he finally lowers himself to your chest. He keeps his eyes locked on your own as he brushes the blunt ends of his teeth across the soft skin, but he’s never been the most patient man. It doesn't take him long to give in to you, sucking on each breast individually, massaging the soft skin of the opposite as he does so. 

    “Careful.” He growls when your own hands begin to wander, touching him over the fabric of his jeans. He releases your nipple with a pop, bearing his teeth as he presses his face back into your neck. You don't pay much mind to that, rather enjoying the grunts and sounds he makes as you slowly stroke his covered hardness from base to tip. You can't imagine how restrained he must be feeling. You can’t help but smirk a little as your hands drift up and down, before oh So slowly unbuckling his belt. Logan is agitated, practically bucking his hips into your hands to get you to just get over with it. 

    “Patience is a virtue.” You quote, only earning a restraining hold on your hands once again.

    “Fuck that.” Logan growls. He holds you by your wrists, pushing them above your head as he uses his free hand to remove his belt and frantically unbuckle his pants. You'd be complaining if it weren't for the view of his straining cock, slapping against his abdomen as he pulls his pants down. 

    You don't get to stare for too long before he flips you on your stomach like you weigh nothing. He lets your wrists go to pull down your shorts and underwear, a sticky string of your slick thinning as he pulls the items down.

    “Fuck. You're this wet from just that?” Logan asks you, taking two fingers and sliding them through your lips from behind, spreading his fingers to let himself see the mess you've made of yourself already.

    “...shut up.” You mumble, more focused on the feeling of those very same fingers sliding back and forth across your cunt, the tips just barely brushing against your clit every time. Logan chuckles, sliding one hand under your lower stomach to lift your hips with ease. Your hips buck as he slides a thick finger inside of you without warning, slowly sinking down to his knuckle with ease.

    “Might not even need foreplay at this rate.” Logan rumbles behind you, eyes set squarely on the sight of your pretty pussy spread wide open for him. You can only moan in response as he pulls it back out again, plunging a second finger into you this time. Your hands clutch the sheets as Logan begins to finger fuck you to his content, curling those thick digits to hit that one spot juuust right. You try not to buck or squirm too bad, halfway wondering if this is all just some wet dream. 

    “Logan-” You call out for him through your moans. He only hums in reply, preoccupied at the moment.

    “I- god- I need your cock, please.” You're not sure if it was the phrase or the begging, but it makes Logan groan. You feel embarrassingly empty as he pulls his fingers out. You hear the sound of him stroking his hard cock with your slick, groaning and humming to himself before he picks you up. He leans over you, adjusting to you your hands and knees as you finally feel that thick, thick cock grinding against you. You gasp at the way it feels, feeling Logan smirk against your back.

    “Having second thoughts?” The tone of his voice is teasing, but you know there's more than that behind the words. You vehemently shake your head, grinding back against him a little as you protest. Logan swears under his breath, holding onto your hips to keep them still as he sits up.

    Both of you groan each time the head of his cock catches on your clit, Logan thrusting through your lips again and again as he lubes himself with the wetness you provide for him. You gasp when his head catches on your slot, notching just right. 

    Logan pushes into you so slowly, and you feel like he's thicker than you ever imagined he would be. You're impatient, desperate. You push back onto him in an attempt to take him in more, but his hands on your hips stop you.

    “Believe me sweetheart, you don't want that yet.” Logan tells you, straining himself with how tight you feel around him. He soothingly rubs his thumbs against your skin, pressing into you until you have him completely, balls deep inside you. 

    “Please, please. Logan, Please, I need you to move.” Your begging starts to sound like nonsense to your own ears, but it makes Logan gasp all the same, his cock twitching from where it's buried inside of you. You practically cry in relief when he finally begins to thrust Inside of you.

    His hip smack against your ass with every thrust, the sound of the slap mixed with the sounds of your love and the headboard hitting the wall a lewd and filthy symphony. Even better than your own moans were Logan's himself. Each and every groan and growl above you gave you a whole new array of things to imagine while fucking yourself- if you ever had to do so again. 

    You whine and whimper with every strong thrust, Logan slow and forceful with every movement. It felt like he wanted your insides to memorize exactly how his cock feels inside of you, and you doubt you'd ever mind it. He filled you perfectly, hitting every sweet spot inside of you.

    Your arms are shaking. Struggling to hold yourself up with each and every rock of the bed. You barely start to buckle when He catches hold of you, an arm snacking under your chest and pulling you towards him. His hand spans your collarbone as he holds your back against his chest, holding you up as he continues to fuck you like no one before. You're closing in on that sweet release when his hips stutter a moment. His teeth dig into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you there close to him without breaking the skin.

    “Are… are you -ah- close?” You ask. Logan only responds with a short and simple - “Fuck!” - before he pulls out of you.

    You don't have time to whine about the emptiness before he's flipping you around, kissing you again as he pushes your back to the bed rather aggressively. He's quick to sling your legs over his arms, folding you in half as he sides fully into you in a single thrust. He's hitting you so much deeper in this position, chest pressed against your own as his thrusts continue to stutter. 

    Logan kisses you again, a bit differently than the last ones have been. These kisses are tender, sweet. A stark difference between his needy, frantic thrusts. There's a line of spit between you two as he pulls away, half-lidded eyes meeting your own. You’re closing in on your peak, and you can tell he is too. The pleasure is too much for you to handle at once, and you can't help but squeeze your eyes shut.

    “Look at me.” Logan grabs a hold of your chin, your eyes flying open as he thumbs at your lip and holds your head still. “Don't look away.” His hips stutter some more, the both of you groaning as you clench around him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you finally cum around his cock. The fluttering of your walls are more than enough to send Logan over the edge, his cum warming your insides in thick spurts. Logan buries his face into your neck, groaning as you ride out both of your orgasms.

    The two of you lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Logan lets go of your sore legs, massaging your thighs as he presses sweet, comforting kisses to your cheek and temple. His hands wander up and down your sides, doing his best to soothe your aches without you even having to ask. -not that he would ever admit to having a soft side. Who would believe you if you told them that The Wolverine was a cuddler after sex anyway?

    “Why didn't you just tell me?” You ask after a long moment. Logan hums, his Face tucked into the crook of your neck.

    “Tell you what?”

    “That you were jealous.” Logan only snorts at that, playfully pinching your side.

    “Jealous of what? Your cologne?” He returns. You slap him on the shoulder as he chuckles at you, unable to stop the playful smile on your face.

    “You mean the cologne that you thought was a whole-ass guy?” Logan stops at that, instead choosing to cover your mouth with his palm as he tucks his head closer.

    “You're a lot prettier when you're quiet. You know that?”

[cozage]

hii can i request silent treatment with sabo, law, and ace? like the one you wrote before! i love reading it sm i wanted to see how they (sabo, law, and ace) would react if they received/ gave silent treatment !

Characters: gn reader x Sabo, Law, Ace Cw: everyone involved being a bit of an orange flag Total word count: 4k

Silent Treatment

Sabo

Oh sweet sweet Sabo. He didn’t even realize his offhanded joke in the meeting had offended you. He didn’t think about how you and Koala were the only ones not laughing about the jokes the officers said. He didn’t notice how you and Koala immediately left the room fuming as soon as you could.

He had to run to catch up with you after the meeting, and you showed no sign of slowing your pace. 

“Hey!” he called out, trying to get to you. “I’m gonna go out with the guys for a bit, I’ll catch up with you soon?”

“Do whatever you want,” you shot back. “The men know best after all, right?” 

He must not have heard the sarcasm and anger laced in your voice, because he just gave you a wink and a peck on the cheek and ran off with some of the other leaders. 

Koala gave you a side smirk. “They’re clueless, I swear,” she laughed. 

“We never get the credit,” you grumbled. “I can’t do it anymore, Koala! I’m so fed up with this!”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“So many times!” you cried. “We’re treated the same professionally but socially-”

“It’s a commanders club,” she finished for you. “Maybe we should make a separate club?”

“Rule One: No talking to them until they apologize.”

Sabo was surprised to find that you weren’t waiting for him in bed when he got home. You weren’t in the spare room, either. 

He finally found a note on the kitchen that was short and to the point. “Sleeping at Koala’s.”

Confusing, but he was slightly drunk, so he opted to go to bed and figure it out in the morning. 

When morning came, he was disappointed to find that the coffee hadn't started. He went to grab his overnight oats from the fridge, but you hadn’t made that for him either, which was strange. Usually when you stayed at Koala’s, you prepped all that stuff ahead of time. But last night you hadn’t. He’d have to ask you about that before the meeting this morning. 

He arrived late to the meeting since the coffee took longer than he thought it would and he had to make breakfast. You were already sitting when he got there, you and Koala talking to each other quietly. Normally you saved a se at for him, but today all of the seats had been filled, and he was left with one at the end of the table.

He kept trying to catch your eye, but you refused to look at him. He finally caught Koala’s at one point, and mouthed “What’s wrong?” but she simply rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Dragon. 

If Koala was mad at him, that meant you were mad at him. He racked his brain the entire meeting, trying to think of what he would’ve done to make you upset. But he couldn’t think of anything. 

He tried to catch you after the meeting, but you and Koala made a beeline for the door and ignored his calls after you. 

“Just let them go, dude,” Jiron said to him. “Those two never want to hang out with us anyway.”

Shit. It all clicked together. The jokes made in the meeting yesterday, him going out with the boys without asking if you and Koala had wanted to come. 

“Maybe if you treated them with a little respect, Jiron, they would.” Sabo’s words came out in a low, threatening hiss. 

“Look, I know you’re close with them,” Jiron said. “But they’re not very nice to us either. They’re kind of…”

“Kind of what?” Sabo edged, his blood starting to boil. 

“Well…bitchy.”

Sabo wasn’t really sure what happened next. He didn’t remember doing anything, but the next moment, Jiron was on the ground holding his nose. Blood was leaking out through his fingers onto the ground. 

“Don’t use that word to describe either of them ever again. Got it?” Sabo growled the words, looking around the room. 

“What the FUCK, Sabo?” Jiron cried, but Sabo was already pacing toward the door, desperate to get to you as soon as possible. 

He caught up with you and Koala quickly and jumped between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your alls shoulders. You tensed at his touch, but once you realized it was him, you just scoffed and shrugged him off. 

“Go away, Sabo,” Koala sneered as she shoved him away.

“I’m sorry!” Sabo jumped in front of you all, trying to block your path. “Please, I’m sorry I laughed at those jokes yesterday and even made one myself. That was really shitty of me.”

“Sabo,” you sighed, shaking your head.

He fell to his knees and looked up at you, begging. “And please teach me how to use the coffee machine! And make overnight oats! I’ll make it from now on. I’m starving and I’m sorry.”

His apology made you giggle, and you took his hands and helped him to his feet. Once he was standing, you laced your fingers through his. “You’ll really make the oats?”

“If you want me to.”

“Deal.” You smiled, and gave him a soft kiss to seal his promise. “Can’t go back on it now.”

“And how are you going to make it up to me?” Koala pouted.

“Oh,” Sabo suddenly got very bashful. “I punched Jiron, I think.”

“You WHAT?!”

Law

You bounded into Law’s office, excited to tell him the news. “Law! Shachi just caught-”

“Hang on,” Law mumbled, flicking through his book. He was always looking for something. You were always interrupting him. 

After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Shachi just caught an electric eel! A massive one!”

The moments the words left your mouth, Law was back to looking back at his book. “Interesting. Is that all?”

“Well, I just thought-”

“Hang on,” he mumbled again, already lost on another tangent in his head. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You left the room before he had a chance to respond, though you doubt he even noticed your absence.

He got like this sometimes, and you tried not to get hurt by his sudden coldness. It’s just what happened when you were with the Surgeon of Death. A few hours later you had all but forgotten the encounter. There was an island coming up, and you ran to alert him.  

“Law!” You slammed his door open, ecstatic. “Law! Guess-”

“Do you mind?!” His loud and hostile voice made you take a step back. “I’m trying to do something and you keep interrupting me!”

You pushed down the lump that was in your throat, but you could feel your lip trembling, threatening to give you away. You couldn’t look weak in front of him. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, rushing out of the room.

Shachi found you first, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I told you, you’re too good for him! Maybe you should give him a taste of what it’s like to lose you.”

“Like how?”

A devious grin grew on Shachi’s face. “Silent treatment.”

“Hey captain.” Bepo peeked in the door nervously, knowing there was tension about to be caused. “We’re heading off to the island.”

Law looked up from his book, confused. “Island?” You always told him when you were about to approach an island.

“We docked about a half hour ago,” Shachi chimed in from the hallway.

Law could hear something in his voice. “Where’s Y/N? Are they going?” 

“They're going,” Shachi said, grabbing the door handle. 

“Well, can you-” Law’s words were cut off by Shachi slamming the door shut. 

That was Law’s first indication of something stirring. Shachi always took your side during squabbles, and he seemed livid today. 

Law meant to go talk to you. He wasn’t sure what he needed to apologize for, but he knew it was something. But then he found an interesting article about poisons, and he got sucked into reading. Before he knew it, the sun had set and he had to turn on a lamp to keep reading.

Shachi, on the other hand, kept your mind busy. He took you out on the town, dragging you into every clothing shop and making you try anything on that even might look good on you. He pulled you into dessert shops and trinket stores and forced you to go on a beach walk with him. He was your best friend for a reason.

“What if he doesn’t apologize?” you asked him, watching the sun sink. “Then you don’t talk to him, no matter what,” Shachi responded.

Law was still shut away in his office when you returned, and your heart felt a soft ache. He hadn’t even noticed your absence. 

“Come on,” Shachi said gently. “You can sleep in our room.”

“I should go talk to-”

“No,” Shachi said firmly. “He always does this. He needs to learn his lesson.” So you slept in the crew bunkhouse for the first time in months. Nobody asked questions, everyone just accepted it. You suspected Shachi had filled them in. 

It took Law a few minutes to realize what was wrong. He had come into his room silently and brushed his teeth in the dark before bed like always. It was quieter than usual. And when he went to lay down, the bed was still made. As he pulled the covers back, he couldn’t help but notice how unnatural it felt. But he couldn’t place why.

It was too cold, he realized. And he quickly flicked on a light in the room to find it empty. Thoughts raced through his mind. Where were you? Had you gone missing? Had the Navy or someone else captured you to turn you in for a bounty? 

He quickly walked to the shared common room, where he found Penguin and Ikkaku sitting. “Did you go to the island?” he asked, scanning the room. It was too late for you to be up, but he had to double check. 

They both nodded, and Law tried not to panic. “Did Y/N come back?”

“Yeah,” Penguin affirmed. “We had dinner with them and Shachi, and we all walked back together.” He gave Ikakku a nervous glance before continuing. “I think they’re sleeping in the shared bunkhouse.”

“What?” Law hissed. “Why?” But Ikkaku and Penguin both shrugged, and Law turned and stormed out the door, making a beeline for the bunkhouse. 

He flung the door open, searching for you. He quickly found you in the bunk below Shachi, and he walked over to where you were sleeping. 

“What are you doing?” Law said, shaking you lightly. “Come to bed.”

You groaned in your sleep and pushed him away. You never slept well in the bunkhouse. You were a light sleeper, any type of noise made you wake up. 

“Y/N,” Law said, shaking you harder. “Let’s go.” 

“Law?” Your eyes finally opened, your voice full of exhaustion and sleep. Once you realized it was him, you slapped a hand over your mouth. Silent Treatment. 

Law could see the hurt and anger in your eyes when you recognized him, and his heart constricted when you turned away from him. 

“Can we talk about what’s going on? Please?” he begged. He was trying not to disturb others, but you could hear them beginning to stir. 

You almost caved, but Shachi came to your rescue. He hopped down from his bed and put himself between you and Law. “You can talk in the morning,” Shachi said. “Y/N wants to be here, so let them sleep here.”

Law tried to look past Shachi to you. “I know you can’t stand sleeping here. Just come to bed. Please.”

“Captain.” Shachi’s voice was on the verge of dangerous defiance. “Leave.”

Law stared at him, not sure what to make of Shachi’s protectiveness over you. His gaze was almost challenging, but Shachi refused to back down. He could hear the others in the room starting to stir, and he knew he was only embarrassing you, so he conceded. “I’m coming back first thing.”

“That’s fine,” Shachi said. “If Y/N wants to talk then, you’re welcome to have a conversation.”

Law slept horribly that night. His fingers kept reaching out for you. The bed felt too big, the covers weren’t warm enough. He finally got up and started reading. He was too anxious to sleep.

So were you. You were tossing and turning every 20 minutes, trying to get comfortable. You couldn’t sleep without Law’s heartbeat thrumming in your ears. But Shachi made you promise to never admit it. 

Law was sitting in the hallway outside the door when you went to get breakfast. You almost tripped over him, and when he saw you, he immediately stood to his feet. His tired gold eyes pierced into your soul, and you could see he was in rough shape.  “Can we talk now?” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but you could hear it loud and clear. 

You gave a panicked look to Shachi, but he only gave you a smile and a small nod, encouraging you on. 

You gave Law a nod in agreement. You still weren’t ready to talk to him, but you could listen. 

“I did something yesterday,” Law said, closing the door to his office as you walked in. “I snapped at you when you were excited about something. I prioritized my studies over you and I’m sorry.”

You watched him closely, making sure his words were genuine. Law had a tendency to apologize when he knew you wanted to hear it, not when he actually felt bad about it. 

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he continued. “I tend to get obsessed with my work, and my relationships hurt because of it. And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need you to tell me when I’m hurting you. Because I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want. So please…tell me. Yell at me. Smack me. Just don’t…don’t disappear on me. Please.”

Your heart melted at his words. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “And you won’t get mad?”

“I promise I won’t.”

You gave him a mischievous grin. “Even if I smack you really hard?” 

“I feel like I’m going to regret saying that,” he groaned.

You giggled and gave him a soft kiss. “Too late, Captain.” You rested your head on his shoulder, his familiar scent making your eyes start to droop. “Can we go back to bed now?”

“Bed would be nice,” he mumbled into your hair, already pulling you toward his private room. 

Ace

Fifteen people in the bar, and your boyfriend had flirted with every single one. 

Friendly. That’s what he always called it. He was just being friendly. But you saw the way those commoners looked at him, the lust in their eyes. Getting with a pirate would be thrilling, they’d whisper when his back was turned. He never seemed to hear them talk about him, but he’d always be around them. Convenient. 

“You shouldn’t be bothered,” he’d always say. “You know that I’ll always choose you.”

But you were bothered. You hated the pit of jealousy that formed in your gut every time a new person walked up to him. They were always so touchy, rubbing their hands along his shoulders, and the daring ones would even venture down his chest. Like he was their plaything. But he didn’t belong to them. 

He was yours. Just not in this bar. Or any bar. 

Maybe it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. You were certain he wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of you flirting with another man. 

Your eyes met an attractive man across the bar, and you decided it would be a good theory to test. 

Seeing what you were about to do, Marco grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down into the seat. “Wait,” he muttered.

“Stay out of it, Marco,” you hummed softly. Your voice was pleasant, but there was a threatening undertone to it. 

“If you want to make him jealous that will end in a fight and change nothing except the intensity of your makeup sex, go for it.” 

Your cheeks brightened at his words, and you finally broke your eye contact with the random man to look at the commander. “Marco-!”

“But if you want to make him panic and stay by your side from now on, listen.” Marco’s voice got low. “Ace looks over here at least once every five minutes. He’s checking on you. I’m guessing jealous sex is his-“

“MARCO!”

“Anyway, I guarantee if you vanish, it’ll make him sweat. Just go back to the Moby Dick, and crash in my room for the night if you want. Give him a bit of the silent treatment. Don’t lean into what he wants. Push away, and I know he’ll stop.”

“How?”

“Because he’s head over heels for you, dummy. Even right now, all he wants is your attention. Don’t give it to him and you’ll cut the bad habits.”

It was worth a shot, and you wouldn’t have to talk to any sleazy guys to test the theory. 

“You’re the best, Marco.” You flashed him a grin and stood, giving Ace one last glance. “But never talk about my sex life again.”

“Oh please,” Marco scoffed. “You have no idea what the commanders talk about during shower time, do you?”

Your eyes widened in horror, but Marco just laughed. “Relax! It was a joke!”

“It better be!” you hissed. “Or I’ll skin that boy alive.”

You gave one more glance to Ace. He was caught up in some conversation with a woman, giving her most of his attention. You rolled your eyes, jealousy panging in your chest, and slipped out the door. 

The first two times Ace glanced over at your table, he wasn’t worried about your absence. But the third time, he started to get a bad feeling. You had been gone for too long. 

He wandered back to the table, trying to appear casual and unbothered. “Hey Marco,” he said, bringing him another beer. “Where’s Y/N?”

Marco knew he was using the beer as a bribe, but took it anyway. “Not sure, they walked out about thirty minutes ago. Hasn’t been back since.”

“What?” Ace could feel himself sobering up, worried about your safety. “Where’d they go?”

“They seemed tired,” Marco said, watching Ace carefully. 

“But they always tell me when they’re going home,” Ace grumbled, looking around. “I’m gonna head back too. Kind of over this whole scene.”

Marco chuckled, reading through Ace’s words, but he didn’t say anything further. He watched Ace walk out the door and back to the ship without so much as a goodbye to anyone in the bar, and he knew his plan would work. 

Ace tried not to panic when you weren’t in his room. Sometimes you slept in other places, like the common room or the bunkhouse. Especially on drunken nights, you always seemed to find some random place to pass out. But you always told him when you were going to bed. 

He didn’t sleep well. He wandered around the ship several times, trying to appear unbothered. But he was searching every nook and cranny, desperately looking for where you had landed yourself. 

He didn’t see you again until the next morning, sitting at the breakfast table with Marco and a few others. You were completely surrounded by people, but Ace stopped by your seat on the way to the breakfast line. 

“Hey.” He touched your shoulder and you stiffened at the contact, which was odd. Normally you leaned into his touch. You always looked up at him full of love, silently begging him for a morning kiss. But this morning you didn’t even bother to look his way. “Where’d you end up last night?” he asked. 

“My room,” Marco answered for you, laughing. “That sure was a shock to walk into!”

You laughed, shoving Marco slightly. You still refused to acknowledge Ace, though it was starting to get difficult. “Hey Thornton, you left shortly before me. Where did you end up?”

“I swear I could’ve made it back to my room if I wanted to!” he bellowed, and everyone laughed. 

“Right!” you laughed. “I bet the deck all night sure was cozy!”

You were ignoring him. Ace was sure of it. Had something happened between you and Marco…no. The two of you had only ever been friends, so close you might as well have been siblings. 

He finally left you alone, his brain in overdrive trying to figure out what had made you so upset since the last time he spoke to you. 

“You flirt too much,” Marco said, joining him in line. 

Ace looked back at him, confused. “What?”

“You’re wondering why Y/N is ignoring you, right?” Ace shrugged, trying not to show that it was bothering him too much, but Marco clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Drop the act, man. You should care. And I know you do. I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears trying to figure it out.”

“I just like to talk to people,” Ace defended. “What’s the harm in that?”

“The harm is you don’t just talk. You flirt.” Marco chuckled, shaking his head. “I know what you’re doing, dude, and I don’t blame you. But you’ve got a good thing. Don’t lose it because you want to…talk.”

Ace frowned, annoyed with being called out so personally, but he thought about it while he ate his breakfast alone. He knew how much you hated the way he treated local islanders when you all went out. But he loved the jealous, possessive side of you. He loved watching you fight for him, even if you were fighting with him. 

He found you lounging on the deck, reading a magazine. He walked over to you and sat on the edge of the lounger. He saw your eyes flick up and then immediately back to the magazine, and he could’ve sworn the air temperature dropped 10 degrees. 

“Hey,” he cooed, his hands dancing up your legs, finding the spots he knew you were ticklish. 

You tried to move your legs, but there weren't many places to escape to without getting up and walking away. 

“Please talk to me,” he pouted. He leaned against you, pushing your magazine out of the way and resting his head on your chest, looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. 

You turned your head away from him, trying your best to ignore him even though he was physically on top of you, pinning you down. 

“Pleaseeeee,” Ace begged. His hands came up and playfully squished your cheeks, and you struggled to keep a straight face. He was so good at making you smile. 

“Go away,” you finally said, trying to push him off of you. It was useless, but you had to try. 

“You speak!” Ace cheered, and you rolled your eyes. You were tired of his antics. You wanted an apology. 

“I’m so lonely without you, babe,” Ace sang offkey, his fingers tracing along your shoulders. “Please come back to me, my loveeeee.”

You didn’t react, but you could feel your vision starting to get blurry. He was too stubborn, but you couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep being humiliated and forced to watch Ace live the best of both worlds. 

“I’m sorry,” Ace finally whispered when he saw your eyes starting to get watery. “I know I’m a little insane.”

You finally looked at him, still silent. Waiting for more. 

“And I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you for so long,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you. So no more flirting with random people in bars. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice breaking. 

“I promise,” he said, nuzzling into your chest and hugging you tight. He’d hold you close and never let you slip away again.

[kamaluhkhan]

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

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

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

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

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

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

♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo

(i. he had a savior complex) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it. 

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

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

your eyelids fluttered open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you feeling okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“luke.”

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

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

“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him. 

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

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

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

“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”

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

“it’s…you. you’re….okay?” 

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

you gripped his wrist to steady him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you refused to lose hope. 

no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.

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

“but —” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“thanks, karma.”

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

“what happened? did clarisse —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(ii. he had an ego)

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

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

“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“nice work, rodriguez.” 

"we're going out tonight?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen. 

“well, we aren’t.” 

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

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

“cowards?” you suggested.

silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”

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

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

“i am not a coward.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.

“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.” 

you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.

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

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

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

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

"i don't owe you anything." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your fingers tightened into a fist.

“that is not —”

“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”

“luke, what are you —”

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

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

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

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

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

“see what i mean?”

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

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

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

rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded. 

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

luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.

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

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

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

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

that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.

“what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.

"what about the redhead?"

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

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

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

luke turned towards the exit.

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

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

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

it made you want to kiss him all over again.

(iii. he lied without flinching)

you couldn’t find luke anywhere. 

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

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

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

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

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

“actually, we were just —”

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

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

luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance. 

“i already said no. end of discussion.”

“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.

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

“okay, seriously. what’s —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sitting down next to him, you sighed.

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

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

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

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

“what?”

he leaned in close, voice low.

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

“no. no. she wouldn’t —”

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

“we all are,” you pointed out.

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

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

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

luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you felt him chuckle against your skin.

“since when do you care about that?” 

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

"that’s only if we get caught." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yes, sweetheart?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“eyes up here, beautiful.” 

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

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

you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.

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

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

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

luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too. 

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

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

“do you see my shirt there?”

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

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

you placed your hands on his cheeks. 

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

“luke, baby, look at me.”

when he finally did, your heart ached. 

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

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

“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sparring?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you won’t.” 

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

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

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

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

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

he was the one you were irrevocably in love with. 

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

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

(v. he made you look so naive)  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vi. he was a vice you could never shake

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you missed —

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

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

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

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

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

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

think of the devil, and he shall appear.

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

you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken. 

i can’t stand to hear your name

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

it was just that — a bad feeling, right?

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

oh baby, you really blew it.

the song ended, and your blood ran cold.

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

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

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

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

“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”

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

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

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

“because i’m alone.”

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

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

luke tried again. 

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

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

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

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

your eyes grazed luke carefully.

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

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

“no. you don’t get to just —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i know….i fucked up, karma.”

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

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

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

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

luke stared at you. you glared back at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

baby. you could have laughed. 

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

kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed. 

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

“that’s not my home.”

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

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

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

you stepped in front of luke. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you were definitely out of practice. 

“kelli!” 

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

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

luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“okay, we need to get you —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

bad habits were always the hardest to break.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke knelt down in front of you. 

“can i take your shirt off?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“wait. what happened?”

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

“luke.”

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

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

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

“can i take this off?”

luke nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

you couldn’t help but add that last part. 

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

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

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

luke just had to make everything so complicated.

“they’re fine, all things considered.”

you didn’t offer anything more, anything less. 

he was quiet for a moment.

“you seem to be doing alright, though?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke caught your wrist before you could leave. 

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ll do it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“no kissing,” he warned. 

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

luke swallowed thickly.

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

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

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

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

luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate. 

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

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

“yes. please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re such a —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck it. please — kiss me.”

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

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

“please,” luke pleaded once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

maybe that was true.

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

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

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

"i guess not."

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

"how's your shoulder?" 

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

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

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

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

"i love you too.”

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

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

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

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

[mikedfaist]

can we get more pregnant!reader??? like when she’s actually going into labor and he takes her to the hospital? supportive sweetie mike is my favorite

Mike took the classes. He read the books. He sought insight from his friends who have already ventured down this path before. The hospital bag was ready. The nursery was complete – alongside a crib he did indeed decide to build. He was ready for fatherhood. Frankly, he welcomed it with open arms. He already loved his little girl so much that he couldn’t imagine that love growing anymore than it already is. How is that even possible?

When those first real contractions hit in the middle of the night – much different than the “practice” ones from before – your first instinct isn’t to wake up Mike. No, you let him sleep. You scamper into the kitchen, lay down on the couch and turn on Modern Family. They weren’t far enough apart yet. No point in going to the hospital. No point in waking up your boyfriend. Until your water breaks, you are going to relax as much as you can until the pain permeates to the point of surrender.

You don’t have to wake him up though, because that boy senses your absent presence, and goes looking for you. It wasn’t unusual to find you in the kitchen in the middle of the night; when a craving calls, it calls. This time though, he caught you in the middle of a contraction. Not unbearable – you were even able to talk through it, but he saw it in your eyes. Less than a minute, and it was over.

When you told him you’ve been having contractions for the last hour, you might as well have told him you joined a cult.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He was aghast.

“There’s no point right now! Can’t even go to the hospital. This could last for hours, Michael. Hours. Maybe in the morning something worth telling you about will happen.” You didn’t mean it in a bad way. Obviously, anything that happens in this pregnancy he wants to know about. To you, this was nothing. If the contractions weren’t five minutes apart, then why bother? “Go back to sleep, okay? Get your rest while you can.”

“You really think I can just go back to sleep when you’re in labor?”

“Early labor, it barely counts.”

“It does count.”

“When my water breaks, then I’ll bother you with my problems. But for now, I’m chillin’.”

By morning, seven hours later, things had progressed enough for you to roll over onto your side and shake your boyfriend awake.

“It fucking hurts.”

“It’s just early labor, babe, it barely counts.”

“I will break up with you—do not test me right now.”

It wasn’t until the afternoon when your water broke in the middle of the kitchen as he was making you grilled cheese. (You made him finish the grilled cheese before leaving). Once at the hospital, he fed you ice chips, massaged your back, kissed your forehead, and let you fracture each of his fingers. He did nearly pass out when you got your epidural, and again when you did eventually give birth. His excuse was he had forgotten to eat because he was so focused on you, but you remember how white he got watching a real birth video in preparation for this moment.

Once you begin pushing, he’s beside you, brushing the hair out of your face, letting you squeeze his hand until it’s purple. He’s so gentle with his encouragements, whispering it in your ear and kissing your temple. He can’t put into words how amazed he is with you in this moment. He thought he loved you before, but that love has grown exponentially. You not only grew and protected their child, but you were putting yourself through hell to bring her into this world. It’s something he’ll never know firsthand, and he knows he’ll never be able to look at you the same way from now on. You really were the most incredible woman he has ever had the pleasure of knowing.

When they hear that first cry, he nearly breaks into sobs. All those months of waiting, and being very impatient about it, have finally come to an end, and his baby girl is right there. She’s so tiny—how is she so tiny? How is she so tiny but expelling a cry so loud and raucous?

“She has a set of lungs on her, for sure.”

When they set her on your chest, she instantly quietens. She knows that’s her momma. Mike has to cover his mouth to control his cries. None of the books taught him how to handle the moment he meets his baby girl for the first time. He leans over and caresses his finger over her hand—holy fuck it’s so tiny! Instinctively, she grabs his finger, and refuses to let go. There’s nothing quite as strong as a baby’s grip.

He loses count of how many times he tells you he loves you. A million times wouldn’t even be enough.

[too-deviant]

idk if you’d be comfortable writing this but I was wondering if you could whip up an Aphrodite!reader who’s fed up with her beauty. She stops attending school and stays the full term at camp which makes Luke confused. So she tells him about how random dudes would hit on her and be creepy at her school or something. She’d prolly join him with Kronos bc she wants to feel respected for once. Would be such an angsty but filled with femme rage although totally cool if you choose not to write this~ Just wanted to share it with someone 💛

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Maybe you didn't want to be beautiful anymore.

Content: pretty angsty, brief mentions of male harassment but nothing explicit or triggering, again sorry for the wait i had w block pls forgive me. also not proofread sorry yall its been a rough week.

You were only faintly aware of the noise around you.

The chatter of the city was a mere buzz in the back of your head as you marched down the street. It amazed you, really, just how unbelievably dickish mortal boys could be. This one in particular; Mike Schwartz, a five foot something jock who sat on the bench at every game. He’d been a bother in your life since you started high school. Back then, you took the endless prospects as a compliment – you truly were your mother’s daughter. It was a boost to your weak teenage confidence. 

But as the years went by, the constant asking for your hand became an irritant. Especially when they couldn’t get the hint – at fourteen, turning down guys felt amazing, but when those same guys kept coming back for more, it made your eye twitch. Couldn’t they take the first no, tuck their tail between their legs and fuck off?

Apparently not. 

After four years of putting up with it, you were done. Storming out of the cafeteria, grabbing all your things, hailing a cab and getting the hell outta dodge. Maybe you should’ve stopped to think — called your dad, taken a few deep breaths. But the harder you thought about it, after trying not to for so many years, you came to the conclusion that you would’ve ended up here anyway. 

Here being the peak of HalfBlood Hill in the middle of September. It was only slightly unusual, because when you usually arrive at the start of summer you get to watch the crowds of arrivals setting up shop at camp. Now, however, it was fairly desolate. Less people, you knew. 

It was also a split second shock when you stepped across the border and felt the drastic change in weather. From the cool breeze of the autumn air to the warm summery spring that camp was in year-round. A shift that made you pause, but you kept on down the hill anyway. 

Chiron was waiting for you on the porch of the Big House, and without so much as a word, gestured for you to follow him inside. He was fairly understanding of your situation, but made you Iris Message your dad and tell him of your decision. He, too, was more glad you were safe than angry you ran off. 

“We can talk about this when you feel like talking.” He’d said. 

So you’d done it. Finally, you’d gotten yourself away from the hey hot stuffs and the you seeing anyone baby?s. You were back at camp, you were where you were most happy. 

But you weren’t happy. 

Being a year-rounder, you’d discovered, was a lot less busy than being a summer camper. You got more days off, longer breaks between activities. You found yourself spending more time in your own company; something you never really got to do before. Most of the time you were with your siblings, or your mortal friends, or you were being hounded by some frat boy and their friends.

It took a minute to get used to the loneliness, but you did. You explored camp, found places you hadn’t seen before. A cute clearing near a stream on the east side of the forest, or a Satyr sanctuary on the far end of the beach. You read more books, you trained a little harder, you perfected six new hairstyles on your little sister Elena and Annabeth from the Athena Cabin. 

And yet, you were still pissed off. 

“Why?” 

Luke Castellan was a name everyone knew in this little corner of Long Island. One of the oldest campers, head counsellor of the rowdiest cabin, token tour guide for the new kids. Oh, and the best swordsman camp had seen in, like, three centuries. He was cute, that much you’d heard all around your cabin. But you’d never really held a solid conversation with him until you became a year-rounder. The fewer people around, the more you run into him. 

You’d been practising a few neat tricks with a dagger when he spotted you. Said he was there to train himself for once and that you wouldn’t even notice he was there. You did, though. Especially when he took his shirt off twenty minutes in. 

You shared a water break, he asked you why you’d transferred to being a year rounder, and you indulge him in the story. He was super nice about it too, which made you angry. Was Luke the only nice guy on the planet? 

“But at least you’re happier now, right?” He’d said. You weren’t, you told him that much. He gave you this knowing look you’d never seen on him before, and asked Why?

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I love it here, I do. But I shouldn’t have to uproot my entire life and bring it here just to get some semblance of peace. I shouldn’t have to give up my education, my friends, my dad, just so I don’t have to get harassed every day. It’s not even like my mom gave me anything to help combat it, either. She just made me beautiful and told me to deal with the consequences! I mean,” You let out a weak chuckle, holding up the dagger you’d been toying with, “This was a birthday present from a friend in Cabin Six. Not even my mother, who is a warrior herself, could bother sending me a weapon. They really don’t give two shits about us, do they?” 

He’d parted his lips, eyes shining with something, and looked at you through his bottom lashes, “No. They don’t.”

You and Luke grew closer after that. A lot closer. By the time summer rolled around and the rest of the campers returned, you were inseparable. Many rumours spread but you two ignored them in favour of sneaking into that clearing you’d found and talking in whispers about your hatred for the gods. Who cared if they could hear you? Let them. 

It was Luke who had come up with the idea to steal the bolt. A quick job, in and out, and maybe then they’d listen to what you’d have to say. But they didn’t — they did exactly what they always did and risked the lives of two young demigods and a satyr just because they couldn’t be bothered doing it themselves. Selfish — that’s what they were. They didn’t care about anyone —

“ — but themselves!” You glared at Thalia, who stood before you atop Mount Tamalpais with her spear in your direction. “I mean, look at your dad. He didn’t care enough to stop the monsters from killing you, oh, but it’s okay because he turned you into a damn tree!”

“This isn’t the way!” Annabeth yelled from afar. Her hair was twisted in a style you’d taught her how to do that first year as a year-rounder. It broke your heart that she couldn’t see how right you and Luke were. 

“Curse them, Thalia.” You said plainly, holding up your dagger. Half mortal metal, half celestial bronze. A gift from Luke. “Curse your father and his children. His brothers. Curse them all like they deserve to be cursed! They deserve to be toppled.”

 You tilted your head, looking at them all. Luke and your army were heading steadily up the mountain. If you could convince them now, there wouldn’t need to be a battle. 

“Where are they now, huh?” You raised both your arms, “You’re fighting for your life against a titan on a mountain and the only god who came to help out was Artemis? And that’s just because she was here already.” You scoffed out a laugh, “You should thank us, really, for taking her. Had we not, you’d be dead already.” 

Annabeth watched. You were unrecognisable in that moment — your face streaked with dirt and blood, curled into a dark sneer that any of your siblings would berate you for because of the wrinkles you’d get. You didn’t seem to care all that much, though. Not when Thalia was lunging for you and attempting to pull you out of the rage you were in. Not when her spear and shield were no match for your measly dagger and you went toppling down the mountain. 

The next time any of them saw you was in Manhattan — after believing you to be dead for a year and a half, it came as a shock when you emerged from the crowd of monsters. Your hair was hacked short, and one of your legs had been replaced with a bronze prosthetic. You fought with a ruthlessness none of them had seen in you before, whether it be because you were on the losing side or because Luke had given his body to the Lord of Time before you had the chance to tell him you loved him. You were still angry, and even if you hated Kronos, you didn’t hate him nearly as much as you hated the gods. 

When Luke died, you were kneeled beside him. Your face was dirty, your hair was knotty, and there was a dent in your bronze leg. He lifted a hand to your face, “I’m sorry to have to say this, but…you’re sorta beautiful.”

“Sorta?”

He grinned, and then he died, and you were filled with such unbridled rage that you pushed yourself down to the ground of Manhattan and tore through Kronos’ army with fire in your eyes, not stopping until Apollo got rid of your sight and forced you to calm down. You didn’t know if you’d ever be calm, since the only person who ever understood you just died in your arms, but you dropped your dagger and stomped your way back up to Olympus like a bratty child anyway. 

Zeus didn’t punish you for what you did, but he did say he’d be keeping a firm eye on you. You joined the hunters, much to your mothers disdain, and didn’t ever allow yourself to look back.

[thelaughtercafe]

Makoto, Byakuya, Nagito, Hajime and Fuyuhiko figuring out you're ticklish

Tea Type: Rose Boba

Potential Triggers: N/A

Pairing: Makoto/F! Reader, Byakuya/F! Reader, Nagito/F! Reader, Hajime/F! Reader

Length: 1.1k+

Summary: N/A

Makoto Naegi:

Save this pure boy. 

He just wanted a cuddle dammit-

He didn’t expect you to lurch halfway across the room when he squeezed around your middle. 

Becomes pouty and timidly asks if he did something wrong. 

You can’t say no to his puppy dog eyes and shyly explain that you’re just ticklish. 

Immediately cheers up. 

“Aw that’s all it was? You had me worried!” 

Wiggles his fingers playfully at you and his grin is a little too mischievous for your liking.

“Maybe we can figure out where else you’re ticklish…we gotta be thorough after all.”

Don’t forget the fact that Makoto is a big brother. They’re always master lers in my head. And mean. 

Don’t provoke the hope boi. 

Byakuya Togami:

He knew before you even told him honestly.

Caught your flinch when Hina hugged you from behind and didn’t think much of it until you were already dating. 

You were ranting about something and he’d been half listening, half reading his book and stroking your hair absentmindedly when you squealed as his fingertips gently brushed across your neck.

Gave a small hum as he saw how red you became, causing him to roll his eyes. 

“No need to be embarrassed, dummy. It’s perfectly natural to be ticklish. It’s a tactic from evolution that we got over time. Probably from when we were still cave people and afraid of poisonous bugs. Now though it’s more a way to either facilitate mating or bonding in general due to the release of endorphins.”

From then on incorporates tickling more in an attempt to get you used to it.

And maybe to initiate that bonding too.

Nagito Komaeda:

Thinks he’s not worthy of touching you so makes an active effort to not touch others.

Which leads to touch starvation.

Ironically, despite that sweet facade- gets jealous easily. 

He is…nearly possessive, despite keeping a distance 

So when he spots Hajime making you laugh and his keen eyes also pick up the way you arch into his touch-

He’s ashamed to say he wants to do that too. 

But not just to anyone. 

To you. 

Tries to fight it for a while before he can no longer bear keeping his distance, or you burst into tears after a particularly cruel comment he’s made. 

He can’t do this anymore. He just can’t. Luck cycle be damned. If he has to keep you attached to him at all times to make sure whatever happens to you happens to him too? 

So be it. 

Even after everything is out in the open and you trust him and encourage him constantly he still is a little apprehensive with touching and just holds your hand. 

Whether or not you’re dealing with touch starvation yourself you may if you start dating Nagito at first. 

But that all changes when he sees Fuyuhiko find out.

You’d always been unafraid of the Yakuza heir so there was a kind of rivalry filled friendship there. It was playful, and when Fuyuhiko’s face lights up with a smirk and Nagito sees the embarrassed blush on your cheeks and the way you’re getting shy, turning to mush-

Oh. 

He’s already hovering over Fuyuhiko and smiling a little too wildly as he mentions Peko being flirted with by Teruteru.

You had your suspicions but when he turned and you saw the intensity swirling in his eyes…

“Did…Are you jealous, Nagito?”

Your breath catches as he backs you up against the wall Fuyuhiko had been leaning on moments before, making your face heat. 

This was a different side to him.

You still couldn’t bring yourself to break eye contact though.

“I know someone as awful as me shouldn’t have the right to touch you but I-”

Annnnnd he was back to his old self.

Fed up with his self-deprecation and also getting a little desperate you roughly grabbed his hands and tugged them toward your sides with pleading eyes.

A small smirk tugged at his lips at the action and he lightly fluttered his fingers underneath your shirt, making you instinctively squeak at the coldness of his fingers as well as the tickling before you tried to squirm in his grip. And then he teased.

“Hm? What’s wrong baby? I thought you were all desperate for me to tickle you…why are you struggling?”

It wasn’t much…but it was a start. 

Hajime Hinata:

Observant boi!! 

Calls it out the second it happens with too much nonchalance. 

“Oh sorry, didn’t mean to tickle you; I just needed to grab my drink.”

When you tease him for his love of orange juice he smirks a little and 

 sets his drink down with purpose before approaching and scribbling your sides. 

“If you wanted me to continue, you could’ve just asked nicely you know. Now I have to punish you~”

Does this adorable evil laugh before continuing to play around with you until you’re a panting mess.

Leaves you on the floor as he nonchalantly sips at his juice and pretends he doesn’t notice the cherry red blush on your face. 

Absolutely files the information away for later. 

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu:

Baby gangsta is not the type to initiate physical contact, even once you’ve started dating.

At least not in public. 

He’s the Ultimate Yakuza after all; like Hell is he risking your life just to show PDA. 

If shown with affection he tends to curse and go red, especially in public. Even little things like holding his hand or sneaking a peck on the cheek. 

In private it’s a little better he typically will just grumble but begrudgingly return it in his own way. 

He starts gradually letting you when surrounded by your close friends which is what leads to him finding out.

Another big brother, but with a very different dynamic than Makoto with Komaru. 

Fuyuhiko actually ends up getting tickled first, by his sister, and you find yourself face to face with a seemingly enraged yakuza heir when you let a giggle slip. 

Big mistake. 

“You think that’s funny do you?”

His sneer turns to a familiar smirk and your heart skips a beat as he easily overpowers you, raising your arms with one hand before he claws your tummy and his sister joins in as she gets your underarms. 

You don’t stand a chance. 

Have fun dying. 

Uses it to make you smile and/or fuck with you from then on. 

As a treat after a hard day. 

Or to remind himself you’re alive and with him and he’s got you when the nightmares make him awake with a scream instinctively muffled by his hand. 

And if you notice the tear streaks when you awake with a scream of laughter you certainly don’t say anything. 

Besides, you’ll have matching ones by the time he’s done with you.

He’s lucky you love him so much. 

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

If you are open to requests, I would like to request anything with Fae!Hyrule or maybe a feral Fae!Hyrule (follows classic Fae rules, protect your name, don’t thank a Fae, don’t make a deal, etc) , or even a cute fluffy Fae!Hyrule X Reader fic. There just isn’t enough fairy Hyrule, especially X reader fics, they are practically nonexistent. I just read your last post of a fairy/malice Hyrule X reader and am hooked. Your previous work has fed my obsession, thank you 🙏 .

Order up!

Sorry that this ended up taking so long! Just wanted to make sure everything worked out. This unintentionally got really long and i didn’t wanna convolute things as I intend to do. Special thanks to @litrllyvoid who proofread this.

Hope you enjoy~

tw: Dementia loosely described

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Your mother always told you that you were blessed. You’d watch from your little stool as she weaved her fabrics, shuttle passing through the rungs of yarn with precision. Her words were low and hushed, embellishing every word with an air of mystery. You were six months old, she said. The forests were cold and menacing as they still were, and within those woods, she sung. An odd act many of the people now would warn against for the very same reason she did it. The fae. Tricksters of the woods with sharp tongues and sly deals, your mother had them bless you. Now, you see the price. While you never were injured as a child and never fell ill, your mother took the brunt of your illnesses. She sat now in her rocking chair, hands too worn to use her loom as her mind withers. Wrapped in the great blankets she used to weave, she doesn’t remember that she made them. She doesn’t recall who she used to be. You read her books about the fae sometimes and her tall tale is all she ever mentions anymore. The small smile she has is all that’s left of her —truly her— anymore. So, with a book, a green cloak and some payment, you set off into the forest with the hopes of recovering what’s since been lost.

You’ve since grown increasingly thankful for your cloak, the furry lining keeping you blessedly warm as the fog only grows thicker and thicker. The light begins to dwindle from your path despite it only being sometime around noon. The birds are gone now. Their chitters and chortles are replaced by wind whispers and the quiet sway of your breath. You stop at an odd formation of rocks stuck in the ground, crocus and clover flowers blooming around the edge of each rock that forms the circle. Carefully you step in, leaving a velvet bag of silver coins as payment for your intrusion. The air stands still and the humidity increases, each breath uncomfortable.

“Hello there” The voice is as cautious as you feel, and yet clearer than your vision at the moment. You turn to see a thin, scruffy looking boy, brown-blonde waves of hair tousled like a sea of their own. His head is tilted to the side, hazel eyes combing over you carefully. He holds out a hand in expectations. You hesitate as you hand him the bag, especially as his thin lips twitch towards a frown. “I do not want your money” He shakes his head, his nose crinkling at its bridge.

“Wh-“ You turn fully now to face him and he doesn’t feel as scary as the stories paint his kind to be, perhaps that makes them even more terrifying. “Then what do you want?” His lips part to a tight smile, the edges of his teeth showing, you can’t tell from where you stand if they’re pointed.

“Your mother could sing, couldn’t she?” A chill skitters down your spine as his deceptively innocent voice calls. You don’t even dignify him with a response, suddenly feeling unwelcome on the grass you stand. “My mentor actually dealt with it— not me” He chuckles at the end of his words, complimenting them like birdsong does to sunrise. “We love a good song you know” You can’t for the life of you tell what it’s supposed to mean, what he intends behind the simple words. And yet his pointed ears wiggle as he smiles reassuringly, as if you weren’t bargaining over a life.

“That’s the thing-“ You choke over the words, feeling yourself root down to your cause. “She’s unwell because-“ Looking at his curious eyes picking you apart, you feel bad at the sentiments you hold. It feels as if your mind is being mixed, and yet there’s nothing apparently wrong. “Because of the deal. I want to know how to fix it.” You’re unsure exactly of how you managed to keep your voice so even, but the boy in front of you buys into it. He nods in acknowledgement before his lips pursed, his sharp cupid bow shifting.

“An eye for an eye” The wind picks up, ruffling the trees. Suddenly the small boy in front of you no longer feels nearly as harmless. “A life for a life, one must understand.” His eyes close and he sinks in on his feet, speaking so calmly of mortality. Truly because his kind holds so much over it “To save yours, she sacrificed her own. That cannot be easily undone” His words make you sink as well. Nothing to be done. Not even for the ones who’ve done it. “Be not afraid. There is a solution” His smile is back, tight and lacking the warmth of a human. “A life for a life.” He giggles, as if the words were funny “Say you managed to bear me a child- Oh that won’t do. Too cliche. And horribly disrespectful” A freckled hand curls around the base of his chin as he ponders. “Are you unwed?” His eyes glint with a silvery light that you failed to see before. In the pure shock of the moment, you shake your head, shuffling back slightly. “Really? Wow- Sorry. If you are willing to spend the remainder of your life with me, I will save your mother. Only if we are married —wholly married, not simply for the sake of the spell— then will I save your mother. You'll still be able to visit and what not, but you'll live with me, as is proper.” He holds a hand out to you, and your fingers twitch at your side.

“Uh-“ You sip in some of the uncomfortably humid air and feel your head get lighter. An eye for an eye. Your life for hers. She was a good woman, one of unfortunate circumstances. Feeling calloused hand meet your own sealed your fate to something you could only hope to be respectable. The fae aren’t known for breaking deals. Nor are they known for breaking their pacts. Till death do you part, afterall.

[ronwestbreeze]

bow to me

pairing: geto suguru x non-sorcerer!reader warnings: gore and violence, use of the word "monkey" lol summary: you're your mother's deadliest sin word count: 5.1k author's note: i had fun with this one, hehe. hope you guys like it <3

part 1 | read on AO3

You weren’t a cursed spirit.

Or maybe you were, you weren’t necessarily well-versed in the world of curses and sorcerers. You just knew them by name.

You weren’t human.

Well, maybe you were, just a different kind. Cursed.

Yeah.

Maybe you were cursed.

There was an eerie quiet now. Your mind had never been so quiet. Not in a long time.

It was a rarity. This silence.

You decided that this was what peace felt like and that you weren’t going to let it go. You weren’t going to deny yourself any longer.

In the end, it was pathetically funny. Pretending to be normal whenever you never were. From birth, you had always been like this. So, you leaned back in the chair, your arm covering your face, and laughed.

And laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

It was hilarious.

The bodies lying at your feet were quiet as stone. But you figured they’d laugh too if they were alive.

Once your laughter went to giggles, you peeked over your arm and stared up at the ceiling fan.

“You’re your mother’s deadliest sin.” You sang to yourself. At least that’s what your father always said.

“She’s saved!”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

You dropped your face into your hands and shivered. Bile coated your throat, tightened with such conviction. But none of it was from the stench of the bodies around you. It wasn’t the taste of flesh on your tongue.

Tears spilled out of your eyes uncontrolled.

You laughed. You cried. You couldn’t really tell anymore.

“You won’t have to suffer anymore.”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

What the hell were they clapping for?

You opened your eyes, staring straight at one of the bodies lying down in front of you. Lifeless eyes that were once pleading for mercy, staring back at you. And for an instant, that little voice—the you a year ago, still trying to be human, still trying to live life as a regular sixteen-year-old—whimpered.

What am I doing?

You were cursed.

No, no, no, I promised I would. I promised!

Your father saw you as a blessing.

What am I doing? This isn’t me. This isn’t—

And your mother died for it.

“Now you can rest, my sweet girl.”

Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.

Your breathing was shaky. But your body gave in multiple times. You sat up straighter, taking in all the bodies in the small living room.

Perhaps, you went a little far this time.

Then again, you’ve been hungry for a long time now.

“Do you have any more rice balls?”

You remembered their little faces so vividly. The only memory you allowed to snake its way through your mind while pushing everything else back into the tight box.  So detailed. Precious. Undeserving of this world.

You failed them. You should’ve fought harder and killed the townspeople yourself.

Unfortunately, someone had beaten you to it.

2007

It’s been a pretty hellish day.

Granted, it might’ve been partially your fault.

You had gone on another binge but made sure to keep the bodies to a minimum of five this time around. But you supposed that was still too much because it drew some unwanted attention.

Usually, you kept to yourself at an abandoned hospital south of Tokyo. That was where you fed and left the bodies to rot. No one questioned it since many locals tended to stay away from the hospital. Something about it being haunted.

The haunted part was also, technically your fault but that’s beside the point.

Earlier in the day, it was pretty regular. You had a new job working at a café which gave you a lot of access to coffee in case you got a little squirmy around people, especially flesh. And the job had been pretty steady, you’ve been in the city for about half a year now. And it’s been pretty simple.

You’ve somewhat learned to control your hunger, choosing certain days to feed. Choosing the type of people to feed from, such as perverted men or just men in general whenever you felt extra pissed that day. Rarely did you go after women unless you were really, really hungry.

Children were off limits.

Sorcerers were a rarity. And all the more fun.

So what you expected as your usual day suddenly turned interesting when an older man you were serving started asking you strange questions.

“I’m sorry, but that’s not on the menu, sir.” Was your casual answer with the usual customer service smile.

The man grinned, “Wow, you almost seem convincing. I’m impressed.” He leaned his elbows on the table with a smug smirk, “Curses have gotten so advanced in this day in age, especially compared to when I first started.”

You kept your face neutral, “Sir, are you going to order or not?”

You weren’t human.

You knew this.

“Tell me,” The man continued, pinning you in place with an intense gaze. “How were you able to hide from us for so long?”

Now you were irritated. Strange how quickly that happened these days.

Instead of taking his obvious bait, you offered a sweet smile, “I’ll go get you another waitress. And when you’re ready to order she’ll help you.” You tucked your notepad into the pocket of your apron. “I have other tables to attend to. Excuse me.”

After a quick bow, you left his table. He didn’t stop you either with another strange question or observation.

This was going to be a long day. But you couldn’t help the secret grin tugging at your lips as you entered the kitchen.

“Heh.”

“And where is the curse now?”

The human man, Geto never bothered to learn his name, swallowed nervously, “It was at the hospital for awhile and then, well, we lost it for a second—but we managed to track it down to a local café. Since then, the curse hasn’t left.”

Geto hummed and stood from the altar, “Any sorcerers?”

“One found it. But updates have told me neither of them have left the café yet.”

The curse was elusive, Geto figured. A month ago was the first time he received word about it. There were many bodies left in its wake, so it sounded like they were quite the powerful curse. A special grade, perhaps.

It’s just that no one has managed to catch a glance of it. But apparently, it was attached to a human girl.

Simple enough.

“Bring Larue. We’re taking a small trip.” Geto smiled passively at the man. “You’re of no use to me anymore.”

He should’ve sent Larue in the first place instead of this monkey. A mistake he would not make again. While yes, the human could see curses, he was still of little use to Geto-sama. Plus, he was slightly irritated that he nearly lost the curse.

That deserved some form of punishment.

Geto sent him another smile, “Why don’t I award you accordingly?”

A curse appeared next to him, startling the human into a frightful scream as he stumbled off and ran.

“Make sure to go and find Larue for me whenever you can!” Geto called happily as the man kept screaming further into one of the temple corridors.

After a moment, he dusted his robes off and sighed, “Alright then. Time to get to work.”

“Huh, I thought you’d last longer.”

You mumbled as your kagune tore straight through the sorcerer’s abdomen and pinned him against the now scarlet-stained wall. By now you were sure that all the coffee was filled with drips of blood from all the deathly pale customers and former co-workers. How unfortunate.

The sorcerer didn’t respond or move. At this point, you were talking to a corpse.

“Aw, man! Now I have to get a whole new job.” You pouted, letting the body drop to the floor with the rest. “You see what you made me do? Could’ve left me be, serving gross-ass coffee. But you just had to play hero—not a very good one—but a hero, nonetheless.”

You allowed your kagune to retreat into your spine and get off the front counter. “Now how should I paint this canvas? Leave you all as is? Let the humans believe this to be a random homicide?” You stuck your tongue out, “Bleh, boring!” You knelt in front of the dead sorcerer and found yourself giggling as if he told you a joke, "Or maybe you killed them all and then yourself. Yeah, seems fitting. Sure to keep the rest of your kind off my back for a little bit. Including the humans.”

With that, you nodded to yourself and hummed a catchy tune to yourself as you went to grab a knife from the kitchen. After dancing to the song in your head, you stabbed the sorcerer in the abdomen multiple times until it was coated in his blood.

The whiff of the blood was delicious and you couldn’t help but get a few licks before putting the knife in his limp hand.

For a moment, you remained crouched in front of him. Staring straight at this corpse. Wondering when you became so used to the blood. To finding flesh so delicious.

Guess you couldn’t help who you were in the end.

Was it sad? Was it relieving?

You couldn’t say.

With a sigh, you stood, instantly catching movement in the reflection of the café front window.

“Hi, there.”

You barely had time to turn and see who else was in the café with you.

It felt as if an invisible chain yanked you back.

And everything turned black. Though, you weren’t unconscious.

And here entered the hellish part of the day.

Perhaps it wasn’t simple.

When Geto saw the curse for himself, he originally, only saw a human. But upon further inspection, he saw it. That cursed spirit. It was just hidden by that human cover.

Was it inside of the human? Was it even attached?

Or was the human the curse?

Either way, he was able to capture it and swallow it down like all the others.

The taste was strange though. Putrid like the rest but there was a sweetness to it. It was a pleasant surprise. Apart of him wished he could taste her all over again. The type of sweetness that was addicting. What a nasty drug.

It was definitely a special grade. That much was clear.

Useful. He needed power like this on his side. He was lucky to have caught it first before those sorcerers could.

Well, technically the dead sorcerer did find it first but didn’t have much time to exorcise it. Clearly.

He chuckled at the scene before him, “Well, aren’t you a gruesome little thing.”

And it was his to claim.

Proud of his recent accomplishment, he and Larue went back to the temple with more work awaiting them, well for Geto mostly.

“They’re all waiting for you, sir.” One of his followers informed him.

Next to him, Larue grinned, “Another speech tonight, Geto-sama?”

“That’s where I do my work best.” Geto smiled with a nod as he walked to the main room.

Upon entering, dozens of followers left from the Time Vessel Association got on their knees and pressed their foreheads to the matted floor.

“We live in a disease. Sickness everywhere we look.��� Geto took his seat at the altar, brushing out his robes. “And it is our job to get rid of it. To clean this world of monkeys. And I recognize that many of you are hungry for that. But all followers must be guided in the right direction.” His smile grew as they kept their heads down. None of them dared to look him in the eyes as he spoke. They respected him. They adored him.

It’s what he deserved.

“You all obey me now if you wish to live and see the world we create.” No one objected to this. Larue stood further at the back with a proud smile. “Do you trust me to lead you all without question? If not—”

It’s as if for a short moment, he wasn’t in control of his body. His stomach twisted into painful knots, and his throat both retracted and tightened until he finally lurched forward and retched the ball with the curse out onto the matted floor.

“Geto-sama!”

That had to be Larue’s voice. But Geto couldn’t hear much of him. Not with a bleary mind, dazed in confusion and shock.

Yes, in the past he had vomited after swallowing curses. But they never came back up.

What the hell?

You weren’t sure where you’d end up after scaping but you sure as hell wasn’t expecting to be standing before a bunch of people, bowing but staring at you in utter shock and delicious fear.

Of course, you were still pissed about being captured but your lips lifted upward into a smirk at the sight. That is until your eyes caught on an old insignia on the wall.

The symbol for the Time Vessel Association.

You scoffed, “You guys never give up, huh?” You wiped the leftover blood off your lips and grinned, “Can’t even let it go after almost three years? That’s fine, I guess. More food for me.”

In your mouth, your canines began to ache just as your eyes locked on one of the men.  Frozen in fear at the sight of you. Looking like he was just about ready to run out of there.

“Excuse me.”

The voice rang in your ears. Coming from behind you like at the café. Lazily, you glanced over your shoulder only to be met with the last person you ever expected to see.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t eat my loyal followers.”

You didn’t recognize him at first. His hair was longer, and he wore a kasaya over his black robes—but his smile was the same, just with something a lot more sinister.

“Hey,” You mused with a raised brows, “You killed me last year. And took my girls.”

He stared at you too—you were sure he recognized you too with the subtle look of familiarity flashing in his eyes.

Of course, he recognized you.

The sweet store clerk from that village. The non-sorcerer that had made him falter back then—only by a little.

His conviction about it had been long resolved though. To him, you were just like the rest of them. A monkey.

Although, you looked quite different with blood tattooed onto your face, clothes, and body. Wearing it proudly like a second skin.

Showing little reaction to recognizing you was easy.

But it was the way you said ‘my girls’ that made his fingers twitch and his smile become stiff.

“Larue. The meeting’s ending early. Please, escort everyone out. Some important matters that need tending to.”

After the man, Larue, gave you one last cautious stare—you didn’t bother sparing him a look—he led the rest of the group out of the room. Leaving only you and this man. A cult leader if you had to guess.

“I didn’t think you were close with the girls.” He mused as he began circling you, brown eyes staring intently at every part of your body. Almost as if he were looking for something.

“Yeah? How could you after you killed me?” You threw back easily, unmoving from your spot as you let him circle you. It was a little game, you thought. You would pretend to be the prey while you let him be the predator. “Didn’t leave me much room to say anything more either. Not with your—you still on that whole killing humans shit?”

You heard him chuckle faintly behind you, “Yes, I am.”

“Mmm. How quirky of you.”

He appeared in your vision, stopping before you with his hands tucked behind his back. The way he moved was elegant like he was acutely aware of his body and those near it. “I hate to break it to you but they’ve long forgotten about you,” His smirk grew, eyes gleaming as he watched your reaction—or rather something else, you remembered he always did that when the two of you first met. “I made sure of that.”

Of course, he still wanted some reaction from you but it didn’t help that he naturally had the face of a liar—even more now than back then—so you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

The man’s—whom you still had yet to learn the name of—smirk never wavered but he still kept staring. Right through you. “You wouldn’t be meeting them, unfortunately. Not when I’m done with you.”

“Ooh.” A grin left your lips as he continued circling you. “Done with me, huh? By a girl dinner first.” He hummed from behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, having to look up only a little to see his face. Your voice was slow when you asked, “What do you plan to do to me?”

There was a chuckle as he slipped from behind you to appear in front of you once more. “So are you a vengeful spirit? I don’t particularly have time for a random human to be haunting me. I’d just kill you and be done with it.” You tilted your head but didn’t respond. Nor did he look for one. “Or you could just be a simple cursed spirit, but then there’s the question of your cursed energy. It certainly isn’t similar to a cursed spirit. And considering none of the ones I capture come back up, I’d have to cross that possibility off my list.”

“You’re talking a lot more than last time.” You pointed out, watching him curiously. He was dangerously close. And you were all too ready, all too hungry for this.

“Or,”

He continued as if you hadn’t said anything. His eyes still searching, a neutral smile playing on his face.

“Ah yes, now I see. The curse could be attached to you. A cursed human. Now how did your filthy monkey hands get a hold of this curse—”

He was close enough by then. That was his first mistake.

You snatched his neck and slammed him down onto the steps of the altar in a matter of seconds, completely taking the man off guard.

Now you straddled his waist, gripping his neck with both your hands as you laughed with wide ghoul-like eyes. His larger hand gripped your wrist, trying to free himself from your otherwise ungodly strength, his own eyes widening slightly when a red glimmer shot out of your back, sharpening to a point where it was pointed directly at his forehead.

“Who the hell do you think you are, huh?! Some god? Could’ve fooled me! Hey, why don’t we have a rematch? Maybe this time it’ll be a fair fucking fight!”

In a blink, something heavy snatched you up and swallowed you whole.

Geto sat up, rubbing his now sore neck as his curse flung around the room and landed on the ceiling, swallowing you.

“Heh,” He grunted out as he got to his feet.

Maybe he was pissed. Maybe he was intrigued. Maybe a little bit of both. Fortunately, none of his followers were in the room. Imagine they saw you manhandling him with ease like that. What leader would that make him? How could he appear weak like that in front of them?

But that didn’t stop the growing grin tugging at his lips. This was a completely different person compared to the human he met at the store—if you were even human at all. You had been so nice, and sweet—your smile so genuine. And now? Maybe death changed you. Maybe you were a cursed human.

Maybe you’ve always been like this.

“You’re not going to make this any easier on me, are you?” He sighed as he stepped off the altar, glancing toward his curse who still stuck to the ceiling. Watching him patiently. “I was going to offer to kill you quickly and then take the curse, but I see now you don’t deserve my mercy. I could have saved you. Maybe you should’ve stayed dead—either way, I’m going to enjoy having your cursed spirit under my control. It’s useful. Powerful. Something you monkeys lack—”

His curse exploded. Bits of it’s skin falling. Blood spilled onto the floor.

And a blurred object flying toward him at an ungodly speed.

Geto barely dodged you as he jumped out of the way.

You left a large hole in the floor when you landed where the man had been standing. Now your kagune was out and gleaming, hungry, and simmering with rage just as your blood was.

The man landed a few feet away from you, black holes appearing at his side with more curses spilling out of them. You grinned at this and stood straighter at the altar.

You looking down on him. Just as he had done with his followers.

Geto tried not to react at that. Tried not to show how pissed he truly was.

But you noticed it of course.

It made your grin follow into a laugh as you sunk easily into your fighting stance.

“You done spittin’ that narcissistic shit, yet?” You called amusingly. “Or are you ready for that rematch now?”

“That’s enough out of you.” He now didn’t look so amused as his cursed spirits launched themselves at you at once. “That curse does not belong to you. I believe it’s time you hand it over to me now.”

You allowed the two cursed spirits to get as close as possible before dashing from the altar and ending up in front of the man with a sickening sweet smile.

“Make me.”

But he didn’t lean away, your noses practically touching. He matched your grin, white teeth glistening in the dimly lit room.

“Gladly.”

More curses came flying at you. Some large and others small. You dodged and killed the smaller ones. The larger ones were a lot more difficult to get through. Truthfully, you didn’t know much of your limit to your strength or speed since you spent most of your life trying to suppress it all, but it seemed you were able to keep up anyway, coupled with your skills in martial arts.

And it seemed he was using the curses to keep you distracted long enough until he could get up close himself. His arms wrapped around you from behind, restricting you as a flying curse was zooming toward you, its beak wide open and ready to take your head.

“Comfortable?” He whispered in your ear, his chuckle tickling the lobe. “Is this what you wanted when we first met in that store? To be this close?”

You grinned and leaned back into him just a bit, “Your such a tease.”

With that, you smashed the back of your head into his face, forcing him to let you go as you spun and kicked him hard enough that he flew.

Fortunately for him, one of his curses caught him and another smashed into you, throwing you across the room. You quickly tore through it with your kagune and leaped back up to your feet just as he came at you.

His combat style was fast and far more experienced than you were, but you managed to keep up. You managed to land in a few jabs of your own until one of his curses took you down again.

You threw it off and spat out a mixture of spit and blood, “Cheater.”

“Like you’ve been playing fair.” He scoffed, rubbing his jaw from the last blow you had given him.

“Try not throwing your stupid curses at me and fight me yourself.” You challenged, jumping to your feet. “I can’t be the only one making the first moves here.”

Just as you said that you tackled him into the damaged altar stairs, straddling his lap again, tugging his hair so he was looking up at you, “Comfortable?”

He was staring up at you again, this time with visible interest, “You’re not human, are you?”

You rolled your eyes and let his hair go but kept your legs straddled at his waist, “What gave that away?”

“Are you done with your little show now?” He asked with a lazy smirk now on his face.

There was movement in the corner of your eye and you glared, “I swear to go if another one of your stupid curses—”

Another one slammed into you and threw you into a wall. “Asshole!” You grunted, holding your shoulder as you dodged another attack from the curse, “Play fair!”

The cheeky bastard grinned, “Make me.”

Your kagune came out. It was like a tail, almost. An extra limp that was a part of your body but hidden. It swished around, cautiously waiting for your command. Waiting for your next target.

The both of you were bruised and bloodied, surrounded by curses, but neither ready to back down just yet. You wondered how long the two of you would keep at this. Which one of you would eventually give in? Which one of you would die? Is that his end goal here? To still kill you?

Well, with the way the curses and him surrounded you, the latter seemed more possible with each passing second.

That didn’t mean you were ready to give in. Not like last time. Not like that night in the temple. The two of you stared at each other with silent challenge. He was back on the altar as if expecting you to bow down. Like you were supposed to submit like his little followers. He hid it well back then.

Only this time, there was a subtle look across his face. One he didn’t bother to hide.

He was hesitating.

Now was your chance to—

The doors behind you swung open behind you and a call of your name screamed desperately as a smaller body crashed into your back.

Your first instinct was to attack, to direct your kagune at the newcomer. Only when you felt smaller arms wrap around your waist from behind, you faltered.

Now you were hesitating.

Another body came at you at the front, just as small as the other one.

Nanako looked up at you with wide teary eyes, “Don’t hurt him! Please! We don’t want you to get hurt!”

Through your shock, you were a little offended. If they took one look at him, they’d see that you were managing just fine. But you didn’t voice that out loud. Instead, you allowed your kagune to disappear.

“We thought you were dead.” Mimiko whimpered from behind you, her hold tightening. “When Nanako said she heard your voice, I didn’t believe her. But you’re here! And we don’t want you to go!”

“Please don’t leave us again.” Nanako buried her face into your stomach, her voice becoming muffled. Silent tears were falling down your cheeks as you knelt to their height. “Please, please, please, don’t leave.”

“Okay,” You whispered to her, allowing Mimiko to come around and hug you from the front as well. You wrapped your arms tightly around them, ignoring how most of the curses that had surrounded you had disappeared. Ignoring how easily you melted in front of your girls. Ignoring how much your heart had been missing a void up until now. Ignoring how he watched the three of you intensely from the altar. “Okay, okay, I won’t leave. I’m right here.”

Mimiko pressed her cheek against yours, “Promise?”

You chuckled shakily, realizing how much you were trembling as you held them. “Yeah, I promise.”

“Okay, well, we have to pinky promise on it,” Nanako said pulling back a bit as she wiped her tears on her hoodie sleeve. “We kept our promise. Now it’s your turn.”

Nanako held out her pinky which you took instantly. Mimiko lifted her head from your shoulder and joined her pinky with yours. You allowed them to fight over covering your much longer pinky with their little ones, earning small giggles from the girls.

Geto watched the interaction, silently.

The girls never approached anyone other than Geto himself. Not even the people he trusts the most, the girls weren’t as comfortable as they were with him.

He didn’t doubt the girls' adoration for him. Not one bit. They were his.

But perhaps he saw why they were also equally yours.

Mimiko and Nanako weren’t secretive about their relationship with you, even after they thought you had died—like he told them. They always spoke fondly of you, despite knowing you for only a short amount of time. Still, in that short time, they experienced the most kindness they had ever received.

He remembered you freeing them from the cage. He remembered your protective stance when he appeared to you at the temple. He remembered the distraught look on your face when the girls willingly went with him. It wasn’t betrayal. It was sadness mixed with the simmering rage that was directed at him.

You weren’t human.

That much was clear.

You weren’t entirely a curse spirit either.

Probably more human than curse.

Geto wasn’t too sure how to feel about that yet.

Not yet anyway.

The girls were now in front of him, staring up at him with big pleading eyes. They didn’t have to say it with words.

They wanted you back into their lives. Now that you were here and alive, they wanted you. Just as much as they wanted to be by Geto’s side.

Then there was the fact that he didn’t want to kill you anymore—which was oddly unsettling for him. Technically, you weren’t human. But there was still so much to uncover about you.

And your power was useful. He couldn’t kill something like that.

He was smiling at you again. That passive one. The one that was meant as a warning as he approached you with the girls following in tow behind him.

“I don’t believe we’ve formally introduced ourselves.” You raised a brow as he leaned forward, your faces now inches apart. “You can call me Geto-sama.”

You didn’t utter your name, but he said yours with ease. Falling off his tongue in his deep and smooth voice.

“The girls told me so much about you.”

“Geto, huh?” You mumbled when the last curse sunk away.

“My followers refer to me as Geto-sama, yes.” He nodded, the smile remaining on his face.

It was annoying.

You sent him a grin, “I’m not one of your followers. Geto.”

Ever so slightly, you could see the subtle twitch in his brow. And at that, your grin grew.

Mimiko was the one to speak next, “Can we keep her?”

[nurse-buckley]

Tomorrow Holds Such Better Days

Fandom: 9-1-1  Word Count: 2,472 Characters: Evan Buckley, Eddie Diaz, Bobby Nash, firefam (mentioned) Warnings: major trigger warning for depression, suicidal thoughts, suicide and overdosing with pills. If you are not in the right mind frame to read this please skip this one. Summary: After your depression worsens, you decide to take things into your own hands and end your life, but will a message to your family be enough to save your life? Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz @winterreader-nowwriter @iamasimpingh0e @dayrin085 @hauntedmilkshakeghost @floralbuckleys @alexxavicry (if you want to be added or taken off the list, please let me know)

Thank you @floralbuckleys @firemedicdiaz and @bucketofbarnes for all of your help, support with writing this <3

If you or anyone else is struggling with thoughts of suicide please reach out to someone you trust or alternatively try these helplines (x) If the link is broken, please let me know. You don't have to suffer alone.

You were no stranger to depression, having struggled with it off and on for a long time. The constant, agonizing feeling of sinking, as if you were watching everyone around you swimming up for air but there was a constant weight dragging you down. You didn’t want to die, but sometimes it just felt that going to sleep and never waking up or an accident on the job taking you out would make it easier. 

Life had just gotten to be too much. Truly, sometimes you just thought maybe it wasn’t for you. Maybe you were just one of the unlucky ones that life didn’t work out for. With those constant thoughts plaguing your mind for days, you had finally made up your mind to end your life and made peace with it. If self-preservation had taught you anything, it was that maybe you should be terrified. But no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Usually you would have reached out to someone before it got to this point. You would have phoned Eddie, Buck or Bobby, or even the family you’d gained through them, knowing they’d all been through their own struggles. Any one of them would have dropped what they were doing to help you. But again, no matter how hard you tried to pick up the phone, typing and backspacing messages asking for help, the voice in your head was just too loud and fed you all the usual lies. 

‘You’re a burden,’ ‘No one cares.’ ‘Why are you so needy?’ ‘They have their own lives and issues to worry about without adding your burdens to them.’ 

You didn’t want to put your issues on them anymore, scared of the judgment, the looks and the pity they might give you. Not when they had their own problems and lives to deal with. If you were being truthful to yourself, maybe you didn’t want to tell them because if you did they would stop you and you weren’t sure if that’s what you wanted. 

This just felt like the best option; for you, and for them. 

You opened your phone, sending a text to Bobby first to let him know you couldn’t make it to work again. It was the second shift in a row that you’d missed, and even now you hated the fact that you were letting the team down. A few moments later, your phone started pinging with a few notifications from your friends.  

Hen: ‘I hope you feel better soon <3’

Chim: ‘Feel better, let me or Maddie know if you need anything :)’ 

Buck: ‘Me and Eddie will swing by to check on you with some soup after shift, do you need anything else? xx’

You cursed yourself for lying to them, once again forcing the attention on yourself. The guilt only added to your decision and with one last text to the group, that was it. 

‘Thanks for always having my back guys. Appreciate and love you all.’ 

You hit the send button, leaving the phone on your coffee table along with a hastily scribbled note explaining your decision and apologizing.  

To everyone else, the message you’d sent seemed normal. They’d pocketed their phones and gone about their normal duties, checking inventory and cleaning, but something in Buck just didn’t sit right. He’d read the message over and over, trying to convince himself that everything was okay, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. 

You’d opened up to Buck about your past a few times, your parents, even your therapy. He thought you’d been doing better but he’d noticed your downturn in mood lately; how quiet you’d been, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, even as you laughed at his and Chim’s jokes.

Buck made his way to Bobby’s office. “Hey Cap, is it alright if me and Eddie swing by y/n’s place?” 

Bobby didn’t miss the concern plastering Buck’s face, being able to read him like a book and knowing something wasn’t sitting right with him. 

“What’s going on?” 

It didn’t take him long to quickly explain his worries, the warning signs, and that he wouldn’t feel okay until he checked on you. 

Bobby mentally kicked himself for not putting it together sooner, knowing the warning signs from his own experiences when Hen and Buck had almost had to break his door down for him years before. “Take one of the med kits and keep me updated.” 

Buck practically flew out of Bobby’s office, calling Eddie as he ran to grab one of the spare medical kits and monitors from the storage closet. 

“I’ll explain on the way, we need to go. Now.”  

“Y/N, can you open the door for us?” 

Buck pulled out his phone, willing his hands to stop shaking so he could unlock the screen and call your number. Eddie leant in closer to the door as they heard your familiar ringtone. With no answer or signs of movement, Eddie pulled out the spare key you’d given him. 

As the pair walked in, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The place was relatively tidy but there was no sign of you being there. Buck called out your name once more, his worry only growing as he was met with silence. 

“Buck…” Eddie’s heart felt as if it were in his throat as his eyes landed on your phone sitting on top of a folded piece of paper on the coffee table where you’d left them.  

Buck’s feet carried him towards your bedroom before his mind could even fully comprehend the note, not even caring to knock as he swung open the door. His breath caught in his throat as he saw your body lying prone on your bed, the small orange pill bottle lying empty and open on your bedside table. 

He couldn’t even hear himself screaming Eddie’s name for help over the pounding in his ears as he ran to the bedside and dropped to his knees. He pressed his fingers into your neck, relief washing over him as he felt your pulse beneath his fingertips. It was slower then he’d have liked, but it was there. 

You felt as if you were floating, vaguely aware of voices around you, hands jostling your body and flipping you onto your back; but your body was too heavy to fight back, the pull of the drugs still keeping you asleep. You felt another set of warm fingers press into the side of your neck, but the darkness was safe. Comforting. 

It wasn’t until you felt the painful sensation of knuckles rubbing up and down the center of your chest that you became more aware of your surroundings. The pain caused you to let out a groan as you sluggishly came back to your senses. 

“That’s it. Open your eyes for me, we’ve got you.” 

Even through the haze, you could recognise that voice anywhere. “Ed…?” 

The knuckles continued to try and rouse you and you would have given anything to smack him away if your arms weren’t so heavy.  

“Yeah. It’s me, I’m here. Buck’s here too. Open your eyes for us.” 

When you finally opened your eyes, you were met with the two men hovering over you. It didn’t take long for the memories to come rushing back; the text messages…the note…the pills. You suddenly became aware of the enormity of what you’d just attempted. You’d tried to kill yourself, and without Buck and Eddie there you very nearly could have succeeded. There was no coming back from that and you knew you’d have to explain yourself. 

You shot up, crashing into Eddie as you wrapped your arms around him, fisting your hands into his t-shirt as every emotion that had built up over the last few weeks burst out. He wrapped his arms around you in return, holding you as you cried, whispering words of comfort and reassurance. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you choked out between sobs.  

“Shh, it’s alright, you’re okay. We’ve got you,” you heard Buck say as you felt him rub soothing patterns up and down your back. 

Eventually the sobs died down, turning to small hiccups and you pulled away. Shame suddenly overwhelmed you, your hands and gaze dropping to your lap, not being able to look at either man.    

Eddie reached out slowly, giving you time to back away before he gently squeezed your hands and ducked his head to try and gain your attention. “Y/n?” 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you looked up at him; Anger? Annoyance? Disgust? But you were only met with his soft and understanding expression. 

“I’m really sorry sweetheart. I know this is the last thing you want right now, but with the pills you took I need you to let me or Buck take a look at you. I know that you know what kinds of effects they can have on your body and so I know you know it's important we get a set of vitals on you and see what’s going on with your heart and breathing. Do you think we can get you settled on the couch so we can check you over?” 

You looked between him and Buck, being met with twin concerned expressions and nodded, knowing it needed to be done. 

“Thank you,” Eddie replied as he gave your hands another squeeze. 

The pair moved to either side of you as they helped you swing your legs off the bed and kept you steady as you stood. They stayed still for a moment, letting you gain your balance, before leading you to the couch in the living room. 

Once settled, Buck pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, wrapped it around your back and took the seat next to you, offering out his hand. You took it gratefully, needing all the strength you could get to get you through Eddie’s exam. 

He began with a few questions. How many pills you took, how you were feeling physically and if you had any symptoms. Thankfully the vitals were quick and after a few more tears, he set the equipment off to the side and took your other hand. “I’m happy your vitals are stable for now. I’d be happier if you got checked out at the hospital, but…” 

“No…” your panic began to rise at the thought of hospitals, doctors and nurses. 

A squeeze from Eddie’s hand grounded you enough for him to continue, “But,  I understand if you don’t want that,” he added quickly, knowing your previous experiences with hospitals. 

“Me and Buck would come with you and we could call it an accidental overdose, no one would need to know the details. It’d just be so we can get you checked medically, but I can’t and am not going to force you.” 

“I can’t.”  

“Okay, if we’re not going to the hospital then I have a few conditions. I’m going to keep an eye on your vitals until the pills wear off, but if anything changes we will have to call an ambulance. I’m also going to set up some fluids to help flush your system and make you something to eat. How does that sound?” 

You were terrified at the thought of more vitals, needles and eating; but you knew the alternative would be a lot worse. You trusted Eddie and Buck with your life, and another glance between the pair had you agreeing to his terms. 

Buck was next to speak, offering distraction as Eddie began gathering the supplies he needed to start the IV. “Have you got an appointment with your therapist coming up any time soon?” 

“Yeah. I’ve got an appointment the day after tomorrow.” 

“That’s good.” 

He kept up the conversation, talking about anything that came to mind, Eddie chipping in here and there.  

“Almost ready here,” Eddie interrupted, “Where’s best for you to have the IV?”  

You held out your preferred arm, turning away to Buck for distraction as he cleaned the area. Before you knew it, Eddie had the fluids up and running. With nothing more to do for the moment, the room fell silent. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie asked, being the first to broach the subject. 

You fiddled with the tape on your IV for a minute, not sure whether you wanted to open that can of worms or not. “Not really. I don’t know. I’m a little embarrassed and know it was dumb and I could have come to any of you, but I just couldn’t see a way out for a minute there.” 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’d be surprised to find someone today who hasn’t been affected by poor mental health,” Eddie replied, “and I don’t need to tell you that any of us would have dropped everything to help you.”  

The three of you talked more while the fluids ran through. Buck had already updated Bobby who’d promised to come by after shift, asking Eddie and Buck to stay with you as he called in cover for them. Buck made you all something to eat so you wouldn’t feel alone, while Eddie kept an eye on you and got a few more sets of vitals. 

True to his word, a few hours later Bobby appeared, taking the seat beside you as he pulled you into his chest and held you close. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were struggling sooner,” he whispered only for you to hear.  

“Do the others know?” 

“No,” Bobby shook his head, “and they don’t have to know, unless you tell them. They just think you’ve got a bad case of the flu.” 

“I’m sorry,” you let out after a few moments of silence. 

“You don’t have to be. I’ve been there before. After my family died I had a plan and if it weren’t for Buck, Hen and the rest of you…I wouldn’t be here. They got me through and we’ll get you through. It’s what family does.” 

You let out a shaky breath, “So. What happens now?” 

“That’s up to you. Do you think it would be a good idea to take some time off work?” 

“No. Isolating myself just makes things worse. Not having anything to do tends to make me spiral a little.” 

The pair of you agreed on a plan. A few days off to recover, continuing with your therapist and checking in with either him, Buck or Eddie if you felt yourself slipping again. Buck offered to let you stay with him, not wanting you to be alone and wanting you where he could keep an eye on you for the night. You knew the road to recovery was only just beginning, but you felt a little lighter with your family by your side. 

[findmeintheferns]

sweet dreams

fuck me like you missed me then

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: y/n can’t sleep, how could she? she had gotten so used to ellie fcking her every night before bed. since ellie and cat were back together they can’t anymore. uno because that would be wrong, right? right???

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: angst, smut (oral sex, fingering), apologies if there is typos i got sick of rereading this lol

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 1.5k

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: ellie williams (TLOU) x reader

————

You had tried everything, you mediated, downed 2 cups of chamomile tea, took a warm shower, read. Hell, you even counted sheep for a solid 15 minutes to no avail. You just could not sleep. Usually you wouldn’t really care that much, you enjoyed your quiet time and would spent the night finishing a book or watching whatever movie you could scavenge from crumbling houses. Nighttime was really the only time you could be alone. However tomorrow you had patrol at 5am and you didn’t really love the idea of no sleep before that. You stared at the clock as the hand crept closer and closer to the early hours of the morning.

“That’s it. Fuck it.” you groaned in frustration, pushing yourself off your couch and marching towards the door. You knew deep down this wasn’t a great idea, but you were desperate. It was freezing outside, you didn’t even bother to put on a jacket before making your way to Ellie’s. You see, the past few months between you and her had been kinda awkward. You were best friends since Ellie and Joel had returned from Salt Lake City. You met her during a rough time, and you bonded over that. She was the first person you ever did a patrol with, you know, without a group. You always knew there was something more there, you just didn’t act on it. However when Ellie and Cat went on their first ‘break’ you slipped up. The two of you had been drinking alone in her room, she couldn’t stop complaining about her ex and you were getting fed up of hearing about it. You didn’t like Cat in the first place, and the idea of making her jealous lit a fire in you, one didn’t know was there before. Ellie was mid sentence, saying something along the lines of, “And you know what fucking gets me? She says that I should cut YOU out of my life because you secretly want me blah blah blah yet she’s always with stupid Bailey, the one person I know for a fact wants to fuc-“ you cut her off, pressing your lips against hers and making her shut up. She pulled away, looking kinda shocked. That shock however didn’t last long because about 2 seconds later she was pulling you into her lap by your tank top and roughly kissing you back. After that incident you continued to fuck for a few weeks, spending almost every night in her bed or her in yours. The problem was you didn’t talk about it, probably because you knew it was wrong. You’d simply wait for one another the second it got dark out to show up at the door and then spend a solid chunk of the night having the best sex of your life. This was up until a week ago, which is when you noticed Cat desperately trying to fix things with Ellie.

“Wait- y/n, don’t go. I don’t understand?” Ellie quickly followed after you as you made your way to the door.

“Cat wants you back Ellie, come on we can’t keep doing this.” You grab the door handle but Ellie’s hand grabs yours, stopping you from being able to twist it. You make eye contact with her and sigh.

“Why does it matter if she wants me back?” she asks, confused.

You push her hand off yours, aggressively opening the door.

“You clearly want her too, you shouldn’t ruin your chances by continuing something that’s purely just sex.”

You don’t give her a chance to reply, you don’t even look at her face, scared that her expression will convince you she’s feeling something she’s not. You didn’t have the balls to tell her how you actually felt, like how you wish you were hers instead of Cat, or how you were scared to take it any further because you couldn’t risk losing her as a friend. From then on you had barely been talking, she seemed kinda pissed off at you actually. Plus her and Cat were back together, so yeah, you knew it was the wrong thing to do, but you no longer gave a fuck. You reach her door and gently knock three times, wondering if she’ll even be awake to hear it. Suddenly a sleepy, groggy Ellie opens the door, looking puzzled.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” she mumbled staring at you with confusion. You don’t waste anytime making your way into her room and slamming the door shut.

“Y/n I don’t understa-“ You cut her off again, grabbing her face and pressing her lips to yours. You expect her to get angry at you but instead she returns the kiss even more rough then you were. Before you know it she has pushed you onto the bed, her lean but muscular body on top of yours. You moan at the sight of her, she’s wearing a singlet with with no bra, so you can see how hard her nipples are already. Her hair is a little messy, probably from sleep, but still looks good somehow. She practically tears your shirt off you and moves her kisses from your lips down your neck and to your breasts. You gasp at the feeling of her lips on your chest as she intently sucks your nipples, making your whole body tingle. You pull on her hair and she lets out a moan, moving back to your lips. You’ve made out for too long, you need more, you grind against her leg and she retaliates, pressing her thigh into your clit. You grab her singlet and pull it off without hesitating. You begin unbuttoning her pants however you’re interrupted by her raspy voice.

“Wait, wait, wait, Y/n. Are we really doing this?” she says, clearly out of breath.

“I mean, only if you want to” you shrug

“I want to. I really want to. But i’m confused, you told me to get back with Cat? You made it clear that what we had was just sex, are you just really horny because if that’s the cas-“

You press you finger to her lips.

“Ellie, come on did you really think this was just sex to me? I hate Cat, I envy her. I’ve wanted you since we were 15 but I couldn’t risk losing you. I just can’t pretend anymore.”

You watch Ellie’s face carefully, scared that what she’ll say next will cause you two to never speak again. Instead she softly rubs her fingers on against your cheek.

“I really wish you told me earlier, we wasted so much time. I missed you this last week, a lot.” she sighs.

You are so relieved you could actually cry, but now is not the time for that.

“Fuck me like you missed me then.” you don’t have time to say anything else, because the second you finished your sentence Ellie has lifted you up and roughly placed you on top of her hips so that you are straddling her as she lays down. Your lips reconnect and you grind down hard.

“I need you” you moan, drunk on the how good this feels.

“I’ve got you baby” she replies, flipping you over and pulling your pants down quicker than you thought was humanly possible. She unbuttons her pants so you are both naked, your pussy pulsing from the sight.

“So wet for me huh baby?” she hums, causing you to groan.

Wasting no time she presses her mouth against your clit, moaning at your reaction to her tongue. It isn’t long before you feel your stomach begin to grow warm, you’re not going to last long. You grab her hand that is tightly gripped against your thigh. She always does this so she can hold you in place while she licks and sucks in the perfect rhythm. You push her hand further down and she knows exactly what you want. She presses her fingers inside you and you throw your head against the pillow, making the headboard loudly hit the wall. She continues to finger you while using her magic mouth on your clit as you feel yourself begin to come undone. It makes you so fucking wet how much she loves eating your pussy.

“F-fuck, FUCK, Ellie i’m so close. I’m so so fucking close ughh” you moan worryingly loud but oh well, you couldn’t care less in this moment. Ellie moans into your pussy and you’re thrown over the edge, cumming arguably harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. Ellie rolls over, laying next to you, as you both try and catch your breath.

“Fuck.” You groan, thinking about how good she makes you feel. You roll over and look at her, sweaty and breathless.

“You okay?” you ask “You seem kinda out of breath.” She turns to look at you, her cheeks bright pink.

“I-I um, sorta”

“Spit it out Ellie” you say impatiently, worried something is wrong.

“Shut up” she retaliates “I came. When I was eating you out idk how but I finished”

You giggle, moving so that you are now on top of her.

“Naw don’t be embarrassed Els, wanna cum again?” you whisper in her ear causing her to groan,

“You know I fucking do”.

[milkywaydrabbles]

With the last kinks you did, they were hard and good!! but I was looking at your other list and I read this my god, you never told me that you knew how to cook and I remembered that it has always been said that Alucard is a good cook, but what would happen if one day after patrolling the village, he arrived to see that his beautiful wife prepared lunch or dinner for him, Alucard deserves to be cared for and fed well after so much that has happened to him 🥺

A/N: I love Adrian Tepes with my entire being!!!! I want to dote on him forever!! ;; ty for the sweet fluff I love him. I was trying to keep this lighthearted and funsies hahas but somehow it got super serious and romantic gah ;A; I loved this and I hope you love it too mwuah

"Oh my god I didn't know you could cook" x Alucard

Days were getting longer, more sunlight shining through the sky for a few extra hours, for which Alucard was grateful. The attacks on the village were still steady, however he did less and less as time went on, the makeshift soldiers amongst the property becoming quite successful at fending for themselves. Of course, Alucard would still be around should anything drastic occur. This was his castle and within the walls, he had a duty to protect the people he’d invited into his home. Some days were harder for him though, mind always floating back to his pregnant wife that he’d leave throughout his patrols to care for the village. It pained him, but you’d always be there and shoo him away saying ‘we’re fine here, Adrian, go look after someone who needs it!’ with a wink and a bump of your hip. He was so grateful for you, for how patient you are with him, how loving and caring you are with all the children around the village--Alucard truly couldn’t have asked for a better life. 

Even Trevor, the notoriously obnoxious (now father!) fighter had been reeled in, being put in his place one too many times by you and Sypha to poke and prod at him anymore. He was softer whenever you came around, in fear of another shoe being brought down on his head. (He said your ‘hormones would only get worse from here, careful Alucard’ with a snicker, before feeling the thud of a boot falling from the staircase above him. Frantic he looked up at you, to which you replied ‘I’ll show you hormones, Belmont!’ he never brought it up again.)

But now you’re seven months pregnant, and Alucard fears for your safety more and more. He wishes to be there, more present than he has been (you say he’s been present, he doesn’t feel it!) He thinks of the last moments before he walked out into the early morning light to patrol the village for the day, belly round and waddling to give him one last kiss at the door. He’s mentally drawn hearts around the picture in his mind, finishing up the patrol as quickly as he could. It was getting closer to dinner time, which means that he had to get home to cook you and the baby a meal! A few more loose conversations here and there, and he was off--back home to his doting wife and mother of his child. 

“Sweetheart I’m--hm?” The mix of delicious aromas filled his senses, warmth in the castle emitting from the kitchen. This...is new. You’d never really made more than a few scrambled eggs in the morning, hastily scrounging something up before you went on your early patrols (before you were pregnant) and now he’s smelling what could be an entire holiday meal coming from the kitchen. Slowly he made his way, poking his head through the entryway and smiling at the sight: you with an apron (that barely fit! cute) tied at your back, plopping a few bowls and pots on the kitchen table that was set already for the both of you. Your hair was messy, tied back in a ribbon and your brows scrunched, probably trying to get everything perfect. But you were happy, he could tell: the smile on your face gave it away. He knocked on the wall as to not startle you, “darling, what are you doing?”

You let out a small gasp, too concentrated at the task at hand to realize you were being watched. Your cheeks grew warm, smiling at your lover. “I made you dinner.” How simple of a statement, as if it was a normal ordeal. You had side dishes amongst dishes, a few desserts even littered around and-- “do you have a roast in the oven?” You nodded, sheepishly. “Ah, yes, about that--can you help me take it out?” You barely got the question out before it was hoisted out and gingerly placed on the table. “How on earth did you even get this in here...where did you--”

“--Well actually the nice neighbors helped me bring it back from the market, and placed it in the oven for me once I was done seasoning it.” 

Ah, that explains a lot.

“I didn’t even know you knew how to make a roast.” he mumbled to himself with a smile and you gasped, his smile growing larger. “You never let me in the kitchen!” You rebutted, tease evident in your tone. “Now go get cleaned up, it’s time for dinner.”

-

The dinner was the most delicious meal he’d ever have in his life. A display of cured meats, cheeses, fruits and soups as appetizers, the most tender roast that fell right off the fork with vegetables as the main course, and a variety of sweets--from chocolate to cheesecake to berry pies-- for dessert, Alucard couldn’t believe you did all of this in one day (you had to remind him he was gone for nearly twelve hours today). He took a bite of the roast, and audibly moaned. “Oh my god, you never told me you could cook” he would have been embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that he was eating the most delectable meal of his life. You simply huffed a laugh, taking a bite of your own dinner, “I never told you I couldn’t.” 

Cheeky little minx.

“Besides, you’re always taking care of me and doting on me, Adrian.” 

“It’s what I should be doing as a loving husband. You’re growing and feeding our child, sweetheart.” 

You shook your head with a small smile. “I meant even before the baby, and you know it. Since the beginning of our relationship you’ve always cooked for me, taken care of me, done any silly little thing I’ve asked of you. But I fear I don’t tell you enough that I love you. Really, I love you, Adrian. I don’t think I could ever live a life without you in it.” He sat in silence, surprise splayed on his features. “And, I want to do the same for you. I want to cook for you, and take care of you, and do every silly little thing you ask of me. So I started with dinner, and we’ll go from there.”

Alucard felt a tear roll down his face, wiping away with shock. When had he started crying? He knows you love him, he’s always known that. He can tell in the way you speak to him, speak about him, the way you look at him. You remind him every day in your words and actions. But...the way you’re speaking to him now, and seeing you so pregnant with his baby, well he didn’t realize how much those words would mean to him until right now.  You held out your hand to his, thumb sliding over the back of his hand. No words needed to be exchanged right now, just soft smiles and light touches. 

He loved you, with everything in his heart. And he’d show you every day more and more.

[babygirl-riley]

I love angst, can I make a request? y/n having crush on Ghost and them finding out that he had a lover that died. Only if you are not busy 🥹 Thank you!

Ghostly Lover

Ghost has always been your major crush and before you can even tell him, he confides with you.

“Invisible machinery, these moving parts inside of me. Well theyve been shutting down for quite sometime. Leaving only rust behind.”

A/N: Omgggg you had me have so many ideas. So I hope this one was something you had in mind! Also I am never busy for request! I love having them 🖤🖤

Warnings: angst, like seriously pure angst, mentions of cancer, minor character death, soft!ghost, swearing

simon x reader guide

simon x reader fluff/angst

You had liked Ghost for years now, ever since being introduced to the team. At first he was distant and never truly paid any attention to anyone. Which was fine. He would come and sit but never engage. After landing on the tarmac he would pace and be the first one out. It made everyone wonder if he had a lass back at home. He would deny which eventually you thought it was true.

You knocked on your captain’s office waiting for his gruff voice to beckon you in. You stepped in closing the door behind you. “Everthin’ alright Sargent?”

You nodded little nervous to even ask the question. But both Gaz and Soap asked and got shot down. Soap mentioned that you were basically Captain’s long lost daughter so maybe he would answer you. You also wanted an answer kill the rumors and he done with it.

“Yeah yeah Cap just have a question.” You started smiling as you took a seat in front of the desk.

Price looked over you before shaking his head. “Nope not my business.” You gave a quizzed look before opening your mouth and shutting it. “You ask Ghost not me.”

“How did you…”

Price looked up from his papers once more and sighed. “Kid I have been hearing non stop asking from Soap and Gaz randomly has an interest in it as well. It doesn’t take a donkey to know what’s going on.”

You sighed leaning back into the chair. “We tried he doesn’t give us an answer.”

Price frowned before placing his pen down and leaning in. “Sargent, sometimes when people don’t say anything means they don’t want no one to know. Maybe this is one of these moments. Leave the man be.”

So you left it at that, felt like an asshole and told Soap and Gaz the same. So everyone dropped it. It wasn’t until the past two years he became more involved with the team. Coming to bars. Playing cards. Everything up the nine yards. You and him particularly became closer. You noticed that he would be keeping an eye out for you on missions and the same thing for you. Making sure each other’s backs were covered.

You both would banter back and forth with each other. Playful always. Ghost isn’t the touch type however, small touches will be played against your clothes or pat on the shoulder. Something that he wouldn’t do around the others or to others. It just fed your mind more your crush turning into a like.

It wasn’t until now you wanted to tell him. Couldn’t hide it anymore. Both of you worked together and it was just getting harder and harder not to show it. Finally when the team went out for celebrations you asked him if he wanted a smoke. He agreed and followed you out.

It was quiet for a moment listening to the cars passing by. You inhaled the cigarette you held before exhaling. “I like you Ghost.” You mumbled.

It went quiet again, you damn near thought he didn’t hear you from the no response that was suppose to come after. You were about to leave it as that and move on, not even making eye contact with him. “You can’t.” He said quickly not looking at you as well.

You snapped your head up to him. “And why can’t I?” You sounded irritated and as you should have. What gives for him to tell you that you shouldn’t.

Ghost shook his head. “Because ya don’t need to, kid”

You stood there for a moment before shaking your head. “Why?”

Ghost looked up at you, reading your eyes. He has known that you liked him for awhile, deep down he did but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to tell you but at the same time he wanted to. You both stared for a moment before he inhaled. “‘Cause anyone that does dies and rather keep ya alive.”

Ghost didn’t move after you blinked couple of times. “Ghost I won’t…”

“Kid,” He looked away before taking an inhale of his cigarette. “‘M also in love with someone and I don’ think anyone can replace her.”

“Oh,” You said quietly, this is one of these moments, you could hear Price’s voice in the back of your mind. Despite that voice you sighed and mumbled. “Could have started with that.”

Ghost felt bad that all this time of showing he felt the same, now that it was brought up it was gone. Not gone that he didn’t feel anything but guilt. Guilt was hitting his chest. His wife. What would she think? What would she do? Ghost sighed. “Why all the subtle hints then?” You asked look at him.

There it was. He was hoping that it wouldn’t have gotten this far. For you to confess all that. “I don’t know.”

You scoffed. “This is embarrassing,” you punched the bridge of your nose. “Well I am going to go now. I will see you inside.”

Ghost looked back down at you, watching as you looked away, started to head out. He felt bad that you were embarrassed, he hated that he made you feel that way. “She’s been dead for couple of years,” You stopped in your tracks, slowly looked over at him. “Cancer, terminal fucking cancer,” He paused scoffing, he wanted to stop talking wanting to shut up. He has told no one besides Price. Price was the only one who knew. Now you do. “It’s not that ya not amazing ‘cause you are it’s just…”

“I’m not her.” You finished half smiling. “It makes sense,” He gave you a quick confused look, he thought there was going to be a slap or yell but you were calm, happy? “You would be so anxious to leave years ago and just the last couple it’s like you never want to leave.”

Ghost looked away, shrugged, and sighed. “When you joined she was diagnosed, so getting home to her so I could spend time…it was important to me,” Ghost didn’t look at you the whole time. Looking ahead of him or to the side. “I wish I could move on, I’ve tried. She told me to, to move on and find someone. Just can’t.”

You frowned and nodded, your heart hurting for him. “I’m sorry LT.”

Ghost sighed. “Doesn’ matter anymore, kid. I just don’t want you to chase something that isn’t worth chasin’”

It was quiet for a moment, listening to the surroundings. “You would be to me but I won’t because your heart belongs to her and I won’t get in the middle of that.”

Ghost was shocked in his head. You respecting his boundaries and saying that made him respect you. Ghost nodded as he looked down at you. God he wish he could move on, your personality was similar to his lost lover. Deep down he missed the soft touches, the going out, the laughter, the warmth of someone he called home. He just couldn’t. You weren’t her. And you planned on not being her. Which he appreciated.

“Ya find someone who will want to. It’s just not me.” He said trying to sound encouraging.

You sighed and nodded. “Maybe Soap?” You smirked knowing how he would respond.

Ghost almost choked his cigarette. “Not that bloke. Let me look around before ya knee deep in mud yeah?”

You chuckled and shook your head. “No this isn’t your game to play Ghost. Besides I am a big girl you know.” You said patting his chest before heading inside.

Ghost shook his head and chuckled lowly. “‘Ight but don’t come cryin’ to me if he does somethin’ crazy.”

You put your hand on the handle of the bar. Inside you were sad not only being rejected but because Ghost was in pain that you couldn’t understand. You haven’t been through that pain yet. So you couldn’t understand but you can be there for him. “Ghost,” He locked eyes with you. “If you want to talk more about anything I am here for you.”

Ghost’s mind raced, he could just go on a couple of dates. Maybe explore this. Just his heart ached knowing that it could have been his ex-wife. The whole time he would imagine it was her, thinking about her smile and not yours. Ghost just nodded as you walked inside.

However, he can’t go chasing after ghosts yet he will always be chasing after hers.

[harlowsbby]

Can you write something about Jack have a sore throat and having to baby him back to health?

Someone Like U

*Ring* *Ring*

You groaned hearing the sound of the bell that Urban had gifted Jack earlier that morning when he stopped by with a few of the other guys.

Jack had a sore throat and even though many people have or have had sore throats Jack still somehow acted as if it was the end of the world.

*Ring* *Ring* *Ring*

“I’m coming! Stop ringing the damn bell already.”

You yelled and the ringing stopped, You grabbed a bowl and poured some of your famous chicken soup inside and also grabbed him a pack of crackers and some water and started making your way upstairs.

As you made your way upstairs you carefully tried your best to balance the tray that was in your hand, when you finally made it you sighed in relief.

Upon hearing the bedroom door creaking open Jack’s head appeared from the pile of pillows that laid near your headboard.

He gave you a faint smile as he tossed the bell somewhere on the bed resulting in it to ring till it stopped rolling, you glared at him as he smiled at you.

“I’m gonna break that bell I hope you know that.”

He shrugged his shoulders and grabbed his pen and paper and scribbled something on it before holding it up so you can read it.

‘If you do that I won’t give you kisses’

It read on the paper and you laughed. “Whatever you know you’re the one that can’t even go five minutes without kissing me.” He rolled his eyes playfully at you and pointed to the soup.

“You hungry?” He nodded his head. You carefully got some soup on the spoon, you blew it a little before lifting it up to his mouth, you watched as he parted his lips before wrapping them around the spoon.

“Is it good?” You questioned he rubbed his stomach and gave you a thumbs up.

“How does your throat feel?” You asked him and patiently waited as he wrote down his answer on the paper.

‘It doesn’t feel as sore anymore, when I swallow it doesn’t hurt.’ He wrote on the paper.

“That’s good, but you know what.” You told him and he looked at you with his eyebrows raised waiting for you to finish.

“I kinda like it when you can’t talk it’s nice and peaceful.” You joked and giggled as he rolled his eyes at you and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m just kidding stop acting like a baby.” He pouted and wrote something else on his paper.

‘But I’m your baby.’ He wrote.

“That you are now come on and finish this soup before it gets cold.” You fed the rest of the chicken soup to Jack and he ate a few crackers when he finished you went to take everything downstairs but he tugged on your arm, pulling you back into the bed.

“What’s wrong? I’m just taking these down real quick.” He searched around the bed for his pen and paper but couldn’t find it anywhere.

“Stay please just leave them there.” He managed to croak out. You placed the dirty dishes on the chair that sat in your room before joining Jack in bed.

He immediately moves his body next to yours and wraps his arms around you pulling you closer into his chest.

“Well you’re talking now your throat must feel a bit better?” He shrugged his shoulders his eyes tiredly looking into your eyes. “Barley babe.” He croaked out making you coo.

Jack hated getting sick but even though his throat was feeling a bit better he had to admit he loved getting this extra one on one time with you and he was in no rush to admit he felt better.

“Take a nap yeah? When you wake up we can shower and watch movies.” He simply nodded and laid his head on your shoulder before falling asleep.

It was around 5pm when Jack had woken up from his nap he looked down seeing you fast asleep on his chest.

“Thank you.” He whispered and kissed the top of your head. He was thankful he had someone like you to look after him and to come home to.

He placed his head above your head and tightened his grip on you, he loved having you wrapped up in his arms. He soon fell back asleep to the sound of your soft snores.

(I hope you like it anon 😭💘)

[ilguna]

☼ advanced (Hermione Granger) ☼

summary; when all of your friends left you for changing, Hermione was the only one that stayed.

warnings; swearing,

wc; 1.6k

notes; READER IS RAVENCLAW.

–

It didn’t take you very long to discover that the professors of Hogwarts don’t actually care about the academics of their students. If they did, then they’d offer more challenging material for those who need it more than others. Like you, for example.

There have been countless times where you’ve asked for harder assignments because what they were giving you was entirely too easy. You’d blow through their work in fifteen minutes, and then they’d expect you to make yourself busy until the end of class, as if that made any sense.

They didn’t want to give you harder work, because that meant they’d have to create a whole new curriculum for you, basically. They wanted you to continue to follow along with their lessons and do well in class. Harder work meant potential failing grades, and they weren’t going to take the chance.

So, you moved onto seeing if you could work ahead of your class. However, that only worked for so long. The only teacher that even entertained the idea was Snape, surprisingly, and that was mostly because he wanted to see how much you could do before you gave up.

You liked it, because that meant you’d have to read the potions book for once instead of skimming over it. You stayed up for countless nights finishing papers, excited that you finally had something to do. 

He got tired of watching you turn in work weeks in advance, because that meant you weren’t paying attention in class. Which isn’t entirely true, because you often found more helpful information in the class, and you were able to correct your mistakes—what little you had. Besides, you think he was fed up that you didn’t tap out.

It brought on a brief phase of doing other students’ work, especially the older students, until you got in trouble for that. It was fair, you couldn’t really complain about it because it made sense.

The very last effort you made was taking the issue up with Dumbledore, in hopes that he’d side with you and possibly talk to the teachers about giving you more nutritional work than what they had to offer. Instead, you were shut down and told that everything is taught at a pace for a reason.

Since, you’ve decided that you don’t really care about showing up to class anymore. If they’re not going to try and help you, after you’ve asked them several times, then you’re not going to humor them. What’s the worst they’ll do? Give you detention?

Well, they have. Each time you go, it’s the same bullshit about finishing your work, and then you can go. And each time, you finish the paper in ten minutes and slap it on the Professor’s desk on the way out. They don’t even bother to stop you anymore, because they know the work is actually done.

What a shame, really. You’ve spent a lot of time lately, thinking about what other students they’re letting down by going about it this way. In muggle schools, they have advanced classes for students who are ahead. You can’t understand why they don’t do the same here.

They’re all about bright witches and wizards, until they have one right in front of them. Of course, maybe it’s because of the house you’re in. It’s expected of ravenclaws to go above and beyond in their work. Maybe there have been hundreds of other girls and boys like you, looking for more and then repeatedly being let down. 

You would transfer, if you could.

“I was thinking we could go to the Three Broomsticks tonight.” Hermione bounces, looking between you and her two other friends.

Hermione’s the only real friend that you’ve managed to keep this year. The other friendships that you’ve taken years to perfect have all vanished into thin air. It must have something to do with them being afraid that your troublesome behavior is contagious. At least, that’s what you like to think, because they all stopped coming around when you began to skip class.

You can’t explain just how weird it is to go from being the most popular student in ravenclaw, to being not talked about at all. They were proud to call you one of them because of your test scores and excellent behavior, but it took a sharp turn when you no longer followed the criteria of the house.

You thought that shit would only happen with the slytherin’s—you suppose betrayal can happen anywhere.

When it comes to Hermione, though, she can’t bring herself to care. She can see why you skip class to cause discussion with your Professors, but she always turns her nose up when you mention detention. It’s an idea that’s never crossed her mind once, and it didn’t cross yours for a while, either.

Besides, she’s friends with Ron and Harry, who are friends of yours by association. The two of them are always getting in trouble, whether they mean to or not. She had to let go of the fact that you had unintentionally turned into one of them, without ever meeting them before.

Actually, that’s not entirely true. You’ve had a few conversations with the two of them, none of them were meaningful enough to remember.

“Sounds good,” Harry says, “Are we going to be studying again…?”

Ron makes a noise, “Please, no.”

“Yes, we are. There’s going to be another round of tests. The Professors warned us about this last week. We need to be ready.” She says.

“Hermione, I think you and (Y/n) are the only ones that care.” Ron says.

“I don’t need to study.” You give him a look, “And you should care. If your grade drops any lower, I think they’re going to kick you off the quidditch team.” 

“They won’t.” Harry says.

“I don’t care, anyway.” Ron rolls his eyes, “Let them try.”

Hermione places her hand on Ron’s shoulder, tilting her head, “I care.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, suppressing the urge to slap her hand off of him. Or better, get that look off of her face, “I can’t go.”

“Why?” She pulls her hand away, a frown appearing.

“I got detention.” You lie, crossing your arms and looking away.

“What? When? I thought you said you were going to stop skipping.” Hermione says.

“It was last week,” You say, “And I said I wouldn’t do it as often, not that I would stop altogether.”

You share a look with Hermione, and she doesn’t seem very happy. You’re not sure what she wants from you, exactly. You might be lying to her about having detention, but you did say that you would try. If you stop, then that gives them the impression that you’ve given up. And you’re not a quitter.

You wouldn’t mind going to the Three Broomsticks tonight, it’s just that you’re not really in the mood to watch her be all touchy with Ron for the rest of the night.

“Is something wrong?” She finally asks.

“Nope, I’m fine. I should go, I’m going to be late.” You stop walking, “I’ll see you guys later?”

“You can’t meet us there?” Harry asks.

“I’m making up a test. That’s why the detention was postponed for so long.” You shrug, “I’m going to head back to my dorm when I’m done.”

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us.” Ron waves, you lift your hand.

You turn around, heading the direction you came from. There’s no doubt that Hermione caught on to the lie towards the end. If it weren’t for you, she would be the top student in your grade. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone pick apart a sentence so thoroughly before.

You make it through two hallways before you hear your name being called. When you look over your shoulder, you’re met with Hermione. “You’re not actually heading to detention, are you?”

“I am.” You squint at her.

“Really? What class?”

“Snape’s.”

“Snape doesn’t have his detentions on Wednesday’s.”

“I have to make up a test. The deadline is soon.”

“He couldn’t have done it yesterday?”

“I don’t know, I don’t make the schedules, I just show up.” 

“You wouldn’t mind me walking you there, then?” 

Your eyebrows twitch. You should’ve known she’d do this.

“What’s the purpose of that?”

“To make sure you get there.” 

You press your lips together, “You don’t believe me.”

“No, I don’t. Snape was very specific at the beginning of the year that he’d make no exceptions.”

“It’s not an exception if he organized it, right?”

“Let’s go.” She begins walking, and you walk behind her a few steps.

You shake your head, “What are Ron and Harry doing?”

“They’re going to meet me there.”

You sigh, “Why are you doing this?”

“To make sure you’re telling the truth.”

“Am I not trustworthy to you?” You ask her, “And even if I’m lying, don’t you think I’d be doing it for a reason?”

She scoffs, “Humor me by telling me what that reason might be.”

“Maybe the fact that I can’t stand to see you so touchy with Ron.” You spit, she keeps moving for a second, before she stops to look at you.

“Why would that matter to you?” She asks, “You’re lying to get away from me, so you can’t care that much.”

“Take a guess, Hermione.” You grit your teeth.

You watch her think over it, and slowly, you’re able to watch the color flood her cheeks at the realization. There’s only one reason that it would make sense for you to try and distance yourself from her, and it’s the same reaction that a lot of people would have if the person they liked didn’t feel the same way.

“Oh.” She murmurs, “Okay.”

You raise your eyebrows, “That’s it?”

“No, well, yes,” She smiles nervously, “You feel the same way that I do.”

[p3ndeja6]

⋆¸*ೃ☼ ⋆¸*ೃ

band au! Stan marsh x y/n

AGED UP! AGED UP! AGED UP!

summary: you were part of Stan’s band, crimson dawn as one of the lead singers, you and Stan had an established relationship but ended things badly due to lack of communication (on his part) everything he did or you did annoyed each other, but how can you guys continue playing together if you guys hate each other

warnings: swearing, arguing, marijuana usage, alcohol consumption, implied sex, angsty, jealous Stan!, maybe smut (probably)

2.6K words

not proof read (my bad)

(idk how many words this got so.. my bad pt 2)

you were currently on Wendy’s bed groaning and whining. you were so fed up and annoyed you could literally punch the next person that breathes next to you.

“Cmon y/n, it can’t be that bad anymore!” Wendy said. Wendy has been trying to cheer you up for over an hour making you forget about what happened at the crimson dawn meeting.

“no Wendy you don’t understand, Stan tries to always take control on everything the band does, we literally can’t fucking breathe anymore, all he does is nag and nag and nag, I can’t fucking stand him” you got up in anger clutching your hair in distress trying not to pull your hair apart, you might be getting grey hairs over this whole thing

“you’re only saying that because you guys broke up on bad terms and you still have to play alongside him y/n”

you and Stan dated for almost over a year before calling it quits. You truly did love that boy but he never tried to put any effort in the relationship anymore after the fourth month of dating. It’s like he lost complete feelings. That wasn’t the case though, he just had a hard time trying to distinguish if your feelings were as true as his but because of all the trying to decipher he lost complete focus on your relationship, resulting in never ending arguments and constant degradation

you loved him so much it hurt you physically after the break up, it took you a while to get yourself together.. for the band. Crimson dawn was getting recognition around South Park county and neighboring counties as well. You guys were getting paid for each gig. You had to continue even if it meant you had to play alongside your ex boyfriend, who you secretly still are in love with but won’t admit to anyone.

You didn’t notice but Wendy brought a box of tissues to you, you hadn’t realized but you were crying. You didn’t know how it happened. But you willing accepted the tissue, wiping your eyes and covering the pure white tissues with black eyeliner and black mascara

“I know it’s not easy, but the band is something you love, don’t let Stan ruin it for you this much.”

She was right, you loved the band, jimmy, butters and Kenny made being in the band fun and bearable

“yeah I guess you’re right-” as soon as you finished your sentence you got a phone call, you looked at the caller ID and it was Stan. You waited a few seconds before answering. “what’s up?” You spoke

“uh hey we just got a gig at some guys party, so come meet at my house in 20 minutes, don’t be late” he replied

“yeah sure whatever, I’ll be on my way” you hanged up in annoyance

“We just got a gig, Wendy by any chance did I leave any extra clothes here?”

You turned around in hopes she did have something you can wear. “Do you mean this?” She held your favorite outfit you forgot about months ago, when you slept over. it was your favorite dress, the flowy ,lacy black dress that made you feel and look so good on your body. God bless, you were already wearing your doc martens. All you had to do was add some finishing touches to your hair and face.

“how do I look?” You asked in worry

“fucking hot, honestly, like I literally could bang right now”

“oh my god! Wendy!!” You laughed at the explicit comment she made

you arrived at Stan’s house in a hurry hoping no one will noticed you were slightly late, you were dreading this but you just couldn’t wait to perform beside Stan

“You’re late y/n” Stan spat

“yeah by a fucking minute, what’s the big deal” you nonchalantly responded, finding your seat next to Kenny.

“the big deal is I told you to not be fucking late and that’s the first thing you do, gosh can’t you understand simply directions?”

“here we go again” Kenny said in humor while taking a sip of his beer

you angrily got up to his face, “You know what jack-ass fuck you, who gives a shit, it was just one fucking minute, why are you bitching about 60 seconds?”

“no fuck you-”

Butters went in between you and Stan who were standing so close to each another

“okay guys! we’re all here Stan cmon tell us what we’re doing” butters shakily said

he took one long second to stare down at you, clearly still pissed off

“okay fine.. I was going to say, that we got a call from one of Clyde’s cousins who’s having a party up in Jefferson county. Just 25 minutes from here. So let’s get ready to head up there”

you all agreed and started gathering your equipment and putting it in the van (that said tegridy farms). It was quiet but not an uncomfortable quiet. You were trying to put all the equipment in the van , fixing the boxes, and the instruments, when stan came up to you.

"y/n... look im sorry i yelled at you..... but seriously dont be late"

" stan i wasnt even that late... i dont know why you are making a big deal out of this... but i accept your apology" "lets just go.. okay?"

"yeah... okay"

As you went inside the van, you sat in between kenny and butters, while stan drove and jimmy sat in the passenger seat. As you were heading towards Jefferson, kenny lit up a joint, taking one huge puff. exhaling and coughing, kenny passing it to you. You received it by taking it in between you thumb and index finger. taking a big puff, you exhaled and then quickly inhaled it all back. Kenny laughed, "oh wow, didn't know you knew how to do that" you giggled and give him a small slap on his shoulder. "please kenny, you were the one who taught me"

The van started to fog up and the herby, skunk smell started to flow around the van, almost disgusting you in a way, creating a bit of a headache due to the "skunk" smell. As you were laughing it up with kenny and butters you had a feeling you were being stared down. You were, Stan was looking at you guys through the rear-view mirror, clenching his jaw and hands, created white marks on his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel.

Once you guys arrived at clyde's cousins place, you could see all the people outside on the porch laughing, drinking, and smoking. Speaker music faintly coming out through the doors and windows. Colorful lights spinning all around, like a rave almost.

"alright guys, we're here.. we are going to do our best and make everyone know our name... couple ground rules before we go inside... Kenny dont try hooking up with anyone, please we seriously dont have time for that.. actually that goes for everyone. thats it lets go"

"please dude, i'm not gonna have sex... i didn't bring any condoms, plus cartman thought it would be funny how hard he can kick me in my fucking nuts. wasn't fucking funny"

You chuckled giving him a reassuring pat on his back and walked inside with him cursing out cartman and how hes a fat fuck who gets no bitches whatsoever.

You walked in and saw how everyone was dancing and singing and having a great time. you then saw a couple that kind of reminded you of you and stan, they looked so in love and so happy to be in each other's arms. you missed stan and you missed being with him, you didnt realize you were staring until jimmy kicked you with his crutch. "cmon on y-y-y/n" you snapped out of it and proceeded to help the rest of the guys set up. making final adjustments and being ready to perform.

"alright guys, you guys ready?"

"ready!"

"alright.. 1 .. 2 .. 3.."

the jimmy started to bang his drumsticks, and then kenny started with his bass.

you were their lead singer, as you were ready to begin singing you tried to get into the mindset, you know what song was first and it was a song you composed for stan. nobody really knows what the real reason was for the song, you just lied to them saying its based on a scene from a movie you saw.

you took one last deep breath, looking to your left you saw stan, smiling at you and nodding to you, signifying you'll do great. stan knew whenever you were scared or nervous... and knew what to do to calm you down.

you started singing, keeping in the rhythm by tapping your foot, you started to gain confidence as the chorus began to start. you took the microphone off the stand

send you my love on a wire

lift you up everytime

everyone, ooh

pulls away, ooh

from you

you were dancing and whipping your hair to the beat, staining the microphone with your red lipstick, moving your body to the beat and feeling the confidence rise up, when you saw everyone in a big pile, you did the unthinkable, you dived into them, crowd surfing the decent sized group of people, you were laughing and thanked the people who brought you back onto stage.

stan couldn't believe you just did that, he knew you were extroverted but didnt know it to this extent. he fell in love with you all over again. it almost pained him that you were no longer his, because of him, because of how stupid he was with words, how he lost the most important person in his life, the person that made life bearable. he wish he would fix it, could fix your guy's relationship.

the song was ending and you made sure to dance to the every end. as you guys were wrapping up, you had a 30 minute intermission before the last song. You got out to find yourself a drink, heading into the kitchen, it was a really big kitchen, marble countertops and porcelain walls. you found yourself the jungle juice they had, a bit strong for your liking so you only pour yourself a little bit. stan saw you and as he was about to go over and hopefully have a genuine conversation, some prep looking guy came up to you instead. he stood there observing, almost like a creep, but he means well

"hey! im clyde's cousin derek!' he semi shouted

"oh hey!, great party you have here"

"thank you, hey you were really great up there, you have such a great voice, and your performance skills is amazing, that crowd surf has everyone talking about it!"

you were a bit embarrassed that you actually did that. "yeahh sorry about that, i dont know what got into me. i dont usually do that, i just sing and dance really" you chuckled shamelessly

"nah nah you're good!" he looked at you with lustful eyes, he was getting close to you... like really close. you didnt really want to but he were craving the lips of somebody's. Stan was watching this all unravel and he started clenching his jaws. He immediately swooped in and grabbed you by your arm.

"hey whats your problem?!" he ignored your shouts, until he took you in a coat closet. he was intensely looking at you. unfortunatley he was a couple inches taller then you so you had to look up at him. there was this energy that made the temperature in the closet hotter.

"y/n"

"'y-yeah stan"

"im sorry..."

"for what?"

"im sorry for being a horrible boyfriend, i should've never shut you out, nor ignore you when you needed me the most. im so so sorry y/n.. and- and i cant stand you being with other guys, i cnat stand the fact they get to kiss you instead of me- i want to be the only guy holding you, kissing you, caressing you, everything, i want you to me mine... and only mine.. no one else's."

you were in a sort of shock, you didn't know what to say. the thing that you could say was, "stan i-"

you kissed him so passionately, he reacted a second late until he started to kiss you back.

"jump"

he said. you oblied to what he said and jumped. you wrapped you legs around his torso gripping him tight into your embrace, he started to kiss you down to your neck, making you lean your head back into the wall, moaning at the sensatiuon he gave once he found your sweet spot

"oh god, how i missed those noises that come out that pretty mouth of yours"

this made you even more wet then you were before. in a swift motion he took off your dress to reveal your through lace bra, your harden nipples poking out. He pinched them through the fabric, making you moan out in pleasure. You were loud since there was music playing, so no one could hear you scream in pleasure.

you were left in your underwear and bra, stan removed your underwear and started to rub circles in between your lips, using your wetness to lube up his fingers to slowly glide them in. making quenching noises as he pumped in and out of you at very slow pace. His thick fingers making it hurt to fully consume him. He moaned to the feeling of your warm spongy walls trying so hard to take him fully, and this was just his fingers.

"fuck stan, please go faster please.. please" you were begging for more, this drives stan crazy but he wanted to take his time with you, he wanted to make you feel good, make you only scream his name.

"yeah? you want me to go faster? cmon.. y/n enjoy this moment with me"

he started to pump even faster, catching you off guard. you gripped on his shoulders, trying to calm your breathing.

"yeah like that, yes!"

"i just remembered you were gonna kiss that douche out there"

he stopped his movements, and quickly pulled out his fingers

"fuck stan!" you exclaimed

he unbuckled his pants and pulled both his pants and boxers down, revealing his long, red, needy, tip. You smiled at his leaky tip, shakily rubbing all the precum all over his sensitive tip.

he moaned and bit his lip, "you like that?"

you kissed him one last time, "fuck stan, please- please just-just shove it in me"

he wasted no time, and roughly pounded in you. you held a tight grip around his waist and shoulders. he held onto your waist, watching himself disappear into you wet cunt. you had moved your head to the side moaning and winning at the pleasure you were enduring.

you were so close and so was he. he grunting became whinning and whimpers. you held onto his face looking at his beautiful eyes

he breifly looked down and back up you

"y/n im gonna-im gonna cum"

"me-me too"

"i love you"

he pounded one last time into you and let his seed fill you up to the brim. your cum and his began to drip down to the floor, he stood there a moment. both of you trying to regain energy and steading your breath.

you got off of him and leaned back onto the wall. Trying to process everything that went down.

“I love you too”

you both smiled, and cleaned yourselves up. Until both of you heard a loud knock.

“Cmon you fucking weirdos, we have to do our last song!” Kenny shouted from the other side.. "also stan your a hypocrite, you said no hoo-"

"yeah yeah i know what i said"

you both laughed and continued cleaning the closet of any unwanted substance

“y/n I do really love you”

“I know stan… I love you too”