#my memories didn’t have to do me this way

[kamaluhkhan]

COMPLICATED

LUST — part iv of we'll write sins like tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 8.9k summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;( author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡

♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne

i. 

in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.

which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.

it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.

"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?" 

you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response.  it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.

after another beat of silence, you take the lead.

“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”

“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.

a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.

“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”

“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.

“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests. 

almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same. 

with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.

you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:

“it’s not her.”

he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.

for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters. 

according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you. 

“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — " 

annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —

well, percy can’t help but admire you even more. 

"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”

“everything else?”

you look at percy like the answer is obvious. 

“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.” 

that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.

“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.” 

“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.” 

“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.” 

you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“what? you never told me that.” 

“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”

“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”

you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.

“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”

again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too. 

“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”

“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”

percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.

deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.

he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.

—

ii.

if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.

“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.

“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side. 

“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”

“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”

“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges. 

“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”

“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”

luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even. 

“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”

“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”

in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.

“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”

“i just want to be prepared.”

“prepared for what?”

luke hesitates. “just….the future.”

“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”

“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”

“oh my fucking gods — ”

grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults. 

when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him. 

and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles. 

lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.

that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.

then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst. 

like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods. 

“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”

luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.

“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”

you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.

and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.

“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”

grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory. 

he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.

—

iii. 

annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely. 

all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.

unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other. 

annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.

she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.

but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.

as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name. 

luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.

all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.

you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve. 

annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.

luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first. 

“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”

annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like. 

as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand. 

maybe that’s a good place to start. 

“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?" 

"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."

"would you go to school?"

you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.” 

“what about luke?”

your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."

"luke needs you."

you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask: 

“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”

and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry. 

“how did you —”

“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun. 

“well, nothing’s confirmed.”

you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”

annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.

"what's holding you back?"

“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares —  that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”

“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”

you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.

“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping." 

"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks. 

you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more. 

"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”

"oh," is all annabeth can say. 

“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."

annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it. 

before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.

luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.

when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again. 

"that sucks."

“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important." 

"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"

"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers.  "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”

“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”

the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs. 

“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”

you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight. 

"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.

annabeth hums.

"how much of that did you hear?" 

luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.

—

iv.

you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.

luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin. 

“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot. 

“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”

“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.

“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke. 

luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you. 

“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point. 

and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.

none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves. 

you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”

luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.” 

“they went alone?”

“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”

“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.” 

luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies. 

 “don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.

it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed. 

“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”

you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you. 

“nothing,” he answers instinctively. 

“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter. 

“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”

“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”

“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?” 

it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky. 

“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath  before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.

of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.

“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“noth—”

“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”

the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.

so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is. 

for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks. 

dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander. 

the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches. 

but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.

working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created. 

he did it for you, even if you won't understand.

he'd do anything for you.

so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch. 

—

v. 

in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.

gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned. 

you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm. 

“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers. 

“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”

“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”

a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for. 

“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke. 

for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him. 

and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense. 

you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through. 

“you never told me about your dad.”

ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.

you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it. 

“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.” 

you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.

“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.

“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”

“that’s….that’s different.” 

“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”

“which is?”

 you debate telling luke the truth. 

it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.

“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit. 

another pause, this time from the other side of the bed. 

“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”

you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.

“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”

“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”

in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling. 

“always so dramatic,” you tease.

deep down, you know you’re not much better.

luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.

it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t. 

truthfully, it still scares you.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”

you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.

"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."

he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.

"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?

"luke —"

"i have to sort it out on my own.”

"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”

another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything. 

eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:

"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up." 

"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."

you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.

"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."

luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more. 

"do you really mean that?"

his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away. 

“of course.” 

you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body. 

neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.

you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later. 

for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more. 

it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time. 

eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.  instinctively, you start rutting against him. 

“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong. 

luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin. 

“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”

“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”

you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”

“good girl.”

your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go. 

you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.

it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians. 

secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.

"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.

you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers." 

luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there. 

"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says: 

“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.

luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal. 

as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again. 

you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.

“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you." 

in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”

sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time. 

this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep. 

you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.

with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you. 

"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?" 

all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words. 

you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.

"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop." 

you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.

"y-yes, luke."

"are you mine?"

you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.

you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.

"i'm yours," you promise.

luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.

satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours. 

it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.

the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high. 

luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.

“did you just —” 

the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.

"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."

luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.

"you’re so fucking hot."

your heart flutters. 

“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.” 

he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating. 

“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "

"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself. 

maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do. 

you want more. you need more.

"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"

"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought. 

you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.

"shit. i don't have another one.”

"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.  

you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you. 

"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"

“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."

luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:

“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?

before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face. 

"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."

you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer. 

"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings. 

luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed. 

"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”

luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."

you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours. 

made for each other.

you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too. 

“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck. 

“don’t,” you command. 

“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.

“i just want to feel you this once.”

he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet. 

luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before. 

even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.  

this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.

wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —

 “are you okay?” 

his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.

you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach. 

"i didn't hurt you, did i?"

“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”

luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.

 “you’ve never said that before.”

“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.

luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.” 

your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.

“oh, shit.…” 

you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully. 

of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.

because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job. 

“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”

luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."

"you do?" your heart resumes its beating. 

"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”

“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”

“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"

"they like the smell of begging." 

luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek. 

"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t —”

“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”

you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words. 

the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would. 

the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast. 

luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face. 

evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.

outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.

luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place." 

you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.

"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes." 

the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards. 

"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.

you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips. 

"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."

luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:

"i love you."

your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.

because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.

you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed. 

it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.

no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.

just this.

[gay-dorito-dust]

How do you think Argenti, Gepard, Dan Heng, Blade, and Dr. Ratio would react to finding their lover crying about how beautiful they are?

Argenti would be honoured that you found him of beauty equal to that of your own.

Truly he was because he was the type to believe that it took true beauty to recognise beauty in all its other forms.

He would hold your face in his hands and try to calm you down with some sweet nothings and kisses as his thumbs wipe away your tears.

‘My beloved rose,’ he’d begin, ‘to be viewed as beautiful by your eyes is an incomparable experience and I am blessed that you think so highly of me because to me, you might as well have been the originator of beauty itself as you make even the most mundane chore beautiful.’ He pushes his forehead against yours, brushing his nose against yours. ‘I am so honoured to be viewed as such in your eyes. I shall Cherish this eternally.’ He finishes as he then proceeds to kiss under your eyes, your eyelids and finally down your tear streaked cheeks gingerly as though you were going to break.

Argenti just spends the rest of the day proving just how beautiful you are in his eyes as repayment afterwards.

You’d probably had to hold onto him and tell him that he doesn’t have to repay you for speaking your truth, but Argenti was adamant in repaying you for doing so and if that meant spending eternity wait in on you hand and foot then Argenti would gladly do so.

Gepard originally thinks that something was wrong when he caught you tearing up and was about to use whatever he needed to resolve the issue, only for you to tell him how beautiful you thought he was.

Now he’s sporting a cherry red face and was at a loss for words.

He was use to people singing his achievements despite thinking that he could do so much more but getting a compliment in general that wasn’t tied to anything he’s done was enough to have the second oldest Landau a little speechless.

‘Really?’ He would ask sheepishly while rubbing the back of his head. ‘I mean I wouldn’t think so but that doesn’t mean I’m within my right to tell you whatever you think of me is right or wrong, it’s just something I’ve got to get used to to in due time.’ He adds as he then grasps your hands in his and squeeze them.

‘But I thank you for thinking so highly of me that isn’t in regard to the things I’ve accomplished and more so on me just being…well me, even if I do fail at keeping our plants alive…but still I’m glad that you’ve stayed by my side for as long as you have. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Gepard finishes his statement off by kissing your forehead, down the slope of your nose and finally a sweet and gentle peck to the lips.

Dan Heng

He was quick to come to your aid upon seeing you crying, but the moment you tell him that the reason why was because you thought he was beautiful.

He didn’t hole much of an option about himself but he certainly didn’t think he was beautiful, average maybe, but not once did he ever look himself in the mirror and saw beauty staring back at him. He just saw Dan Heng of the Astral Express, nothing more, nothing less.

So for you to see beauty in him wasn’t something he was prepared for as his eyes widened a tad and his breath caught in his throat before looking away to scratch the tip of his nose out of habit.

‘You truly have a unique way with words don’t you?’ He’d say to himself as he smiles softly to himself, glad that nothing horrible had happened when his back was turned, you genuinely had him going for a bit there and he was more then glad to be wrong on this occasion.

He’ll hold your compliment close to his chest in hopes of absorbing it and committing it to memory, guarding it as though it were a priceless treasure he could not be separated from. He often didn’t think himself as someone special, but the way you spoke about how beautiful he was while crying made him want to appreciate everything you have ever said about him in the past in a remotely positive light. He didn’t know he needed it until you came along to shower him in love for just existing.

Blade is more of an ‘actions speak louder then words’ type of guy.

So he wouldn’t exactly be moved to bits when you tell him how beautiful he is because he knew what his body looked like, he also knew that you knew what his body looked like, so he often wondered where or not you were seeing the same thing as he was.

So unless you were holding his arms, admiring his scars and or tracing/kissing them with adoration like you were doing now, then he wasn’t going to be less to easily believing in words alone.

‘I’m far from it.’ He’d reply but felt the walls he’s built inside weaken the moment you pressed a soft kiss to one of the more larger scars across his inner forearm. A simple act made from genuine affection that shouldn’t have made as much of an effect on Blade it did.

The feeling of vulnerability wasn’t one he welcomed that often but when he does it was more or less only within your presence. In those moments you could tell him anything and he would be lead by the smallest spark to believe in it, including telling him he’s beautiful as you combed your fingers through his hair with tears still blurring your vision.

He’d brush your tears away with calloused finger pads and wordlessly bring you in close to his body, leaching off of your warmth and allowed you to borrow your head into the crook of his neck, and just keep you there as his own special way of saying thank you for seeing beauty within a monster.

Ratio

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or however that saying goes.

Veritas didn’t pride himself on his how conventionally attractive he was but more so on his intellect and extensive wealth of knowledge.

So when he caught you crying over how apparently beautiful he was, Veritas would want to naturally disagree with this statement but due to the fact that you were in a highly emotional state, he just bites his tongue and calmly walks over to you, kneels next to you and pulls out a handkerchief and start gingerly wiping away your tears.

‘I appreciate the heartfelt compliment but I do not think that it is worth your tears.’ He would then say afterwards as he coddles you into his side, making sure you could feel his appreciation for your ability to care for such things in life, seeing as how he was too transfixed on the much bigger, more complex paradoxes of life. ‘And don’t rub your eyes so hard when wiping away your tears, you’re only hurting yourself when you do that.’ He adds fussily but it never fails to make you smile and laugh at how much he cared about you in his own way.

He doesn’t stop mid work to smell the flowers but you did and he knew how even the smallest, minuet things could mean so much to someone, even if he didn’t understand the reason as to why, but he can learn to accept that what you found worth praising and what he found worth praising were two completely separate things and that was okay.

[cumikering]

Neighbour Ghost x reader 7

2.3k | angst, drinking irresponsibly If Simon could do it all again (part 1)

“You don’t look good, sir.” The sergeant stood at attention, looking straight into his lieutenant’s eyes.

Simon had to commend the balls of Kevlar required to walk right up to him to point the fact out unprompted, but that was why he liked Sgt. Eric Jefferies the most. You had no time to waste when you raced with death on the regular - he would tell anyone they didn’t look good.

He knew he didn’t - it was the same bland face he had the pleasure to look at in the mirror each day. Annoyed, but not surprised by the darkening circles under his eyes, stark against his pale complexion. It didn’t help that he nicked himself in the jaw shaving that morning.

“Dining hall, sergeant,” he grunted.

“You’re barely eating, Riley,” Lt. Ramsay said, the same bloke who’d catch him sneaking back to his room. “You know you’re contributing to the food waste when you don’t ask for seconds, yeah?”

It was true, and the table chuckled, but Simon continued to shove whatever was on his plate into his mouth. It was enough to not starve.

“He never leaves his room anymore, not even on the weekends,” another lieutenant quipped, but was promptly elbowed by the officer next to him.

That, too, was true.

Simon had nowhere else to be, like how it always was before his mum came to Hereford. These days his flat was too empty and cold with the hole in his chest. He never came back after that night.

It wasn’t like he was thriving in his quarters either, but it was still a little better – at least it was untouched by you. Though his nights were dreamless at first, he kept waking, and waking until the dreams started.

It was a glitch in the universe, wasn’t it? That the memory that played in his mind to insanity was the last time he saw you, about crawling back to your door with limbs that didn’t feel like his, vision swaying with the lights, coming on and off, his heartbeat ringing in his head.

It’s not supposed to end this way… I want to try…

He sighed at another disturbed night. Tea would slow his mind. Instead, he found the box of Darjeeling you gifted him to take back to base. ‘So we can have the same tea over the phone,’ you’d said.

Was there a way to escape you, make you stop haunting? He needed an exorcism.

He put it back in his drawer. One day, it wouldn’t have to hurt anymore.

And the nightmares came back. It was once, then twice, and thrice a week of waking up in cold sweat in the dark.

Simon’s performance slipped. There was a reason sleep deprivation was a popular torture method. He requested sleeping medications - his career was the last thing he had and he wasn’t about to let it go. Any unrestful sleep interrupted by the vivid images his sickly mind conjured up was still better than no sleep at all.

Quitting you was impossible when the thoughts still followed. If pushing you away didn’t work, maybe basking in the memories would, even if it hurt more. Aching for your warmth, the scraps of it, he’d go anywhere you’d been to see your ghost. The pain was better than the void.

“You lads are volunteering at the soup kitchen this Saturday,” he announced to Sgt. Jefferies after hours.

“Saturday, sir?”

“It’s good for you. Reminds you why you’re doing all this.”

“Can’t tell me what to do,” he teased. “You’re not my L.T. on the weekends.”

Simon’s stare didn’t waver and the other bloke’s smile dropped.

“Copy, sir. I’ll tell the others.”

When the four burly SAS soldiers entered the kitchen, chatter and clanks stalled as all eyes turned to them.

“May… May I help you young lads?” one of the middle-aged ladies said.

Simon recognised her from his last visit, but he quickly realised this was a silly idea. He was out of place, knowing no one there.

He flashed half a smile. “Just wanted to give a hand. Got any lifting to do?”

The lieutenant and his sergeants hauled the food items to the kitchen, including the bread which he taught his sergeants to half and butter. They were offered to peel potatoes, but Simon decided it was wise to leave it to the pros instead.

People still avoided his gaze while his boys exchanged pleasantries with the other volunteers; Eric even got called handsome by the group of older ladies he impressed with his strength as he hefted the sack of potatoes. While the night was as pleasant, it wasn’t the same if you weren’t there to hold his hand and laugh at his jokes.

When the boys invited Simon to the pub at the end of the night, he said no. He thought he was ready, but even after weeks, coming back to his flat was just as sickening.

The silence pierced. Despite all the lights flicked on, the place made his skin crawl, the space too vast and empty. But he didn’t become a lieutenant from succumbing to his emotions.

As he lay in bed, he recalled that you too slept there once. That the mattress once dipped with the gentle weight of you, but unlike the bed that bounced back, you’d left a lasting imprint that disfigured his soul.

Simon wondered what you were up to, if you knew he was there drowning, miserable in his cold room. He couldn’t decide if he preferred your door to be closer or further: closer so he could catch a glimpse of you without meaning to, or further so he wouldn’t be so tempted to go over and get on his knees.

You said begging only reduced you to nothing, but for you, he’d beg and beg. There wasn’t much to lose when he wasn’t much to begin with. He was a stray for a reason.

He tossed and turned, and was granted a wink of sleep before the same bloody dream flashed in his mind.

I don’t care how hard it gets…

He sat up, feet thudding on the floor as he rubbed his face with a heavy sigh. It was always that one moment, like a broken record. Why couldn’t it be you on a night out, or kissing you on the kitchen counter, or simply, you smiling? It was a curse. If only the heart could follow where one’s feet went.

With no plans on coming here, his sleeping pills lay on his desk at base. He looked through the cabinets to distract himself, finding various bottles of dusty, unopened spirits he was gifted. They weren’t his cup of tea.

So he packed, to get his mind off you, from spiralling and digging a deeper grave for itself.

It was time for a change. With the accommodation he was provided, he never needed to rent, but he did anyway in case his mum ever needed the place. It was a good call he did, but with the divorce on the way, keeping it was pointless. He’d rather spend the extra money on his mum and nephew.

Yes, he came to remember- not to forget, but you wouldn’t leave, would you? In the dead of night, when he pulled the hoodie he’d forgotten about out of his wardrobe, he decided he’d had enough of his bloody flat and drove back to base.

He still had another weekend to before his next deployment, a two-month mission. He’d finish packing then.

“You’re right, sir, it feels good volunteering.” Eric grinned at his lieutenant. “We’re going again tomorrow. Also one of the ladies is introducing her daughter to Sam. See you there then?”

Never again. “Dining hall, sergeant.”

Simon was a fool for not finishing his lunch sooner and bolting, instead lingering for the announcement. With how atrocious he did on his tests, he must have been beyond high to still hope for a miracle, that despite everything, he still had a chance at a promotion.

He didn’t make to the top 3.

Amidst the wishes from the table, Lt. Ramsay’s turned to him. His grateful smile faltered.

Simon’s fists clenched. It was supposed to be him, his. But who was he to be mad. It was the fruit of his incompetence. He knew this was coming. Things were going to shit. The unforgiving truth was staring right at him mercilessly: he had nothing else.

He left for his office.

“Sir, sir!” Sgt. Jefferies called. “We’re heading to the pub tonight. Come with us.”

He gritted his teeth. Word travelled too fast.

“Let’s get out of the base for a bit,” he continued when he caught up to his long strides. “It’s the last weekend before we ship out.”

Simon eyed the display of vibrant bottles behind the bar as he listened to his sergeants’ orders, the names foreign to him. Above, the telly showed a rugby match rerun no one paid attention to.

“Jefferies, how much you reckon it takes me to get pissed?”

He chuckled. “You, sir? At least 10,” he said before taking a swig of his beer.

“Nah, 15 sounds more like it.” Richie, the designated driver for the evening piped up.

Sam downed his first two shots, hissing as he slammed the glasses on the bar. “Agreed. Do you know how much he lifts?” He nodded at Simon’s biceps, bulging under his loose black shirt.

It was a genuine question. Simon didn’t want to get pissed, he only wanted to forget. He didn’t mean to go over his limit he had no idea was at seven.

Drunk Simon was a weeping, blabbering mess. It didn’t help that he was massive, because his sergeants had trouble getting him to the car before Richie drove him to the address of his flat he barely managed to gurgle out before passing out.

“Sir, you’re paying for the bloody cleaning if you get sick in my car!”

Why did he think this was a good idea? He was never a drinker, barely even touched alcohol socially. It was the poison that turned his dad into a demon, and it too became his downfall. The only thing he thought he would always have – his resolve, let him down too. He’d lost you, his mum whom he was supposed to protect, his future, and now his dignity.

Desperation was a lethal sentiment.

And that dream came again, that he stumbled to your door. Legs wobbly, his vision in and out as the world spun in slow motion.

“Luv… Luv, it’s not supposed to end like this,” he slurred, the same line he always opened with.

A marionette, a prisoner in his own head, it was a loop he couldn’t escape. The awful show had to commence to end the same way each time.

“I’m sick of losing and I wouldn’t know what to do when you leave, after how much you’ve given. Instead, I left when you needed me. I should have been there for you, gone through all this with you, no matter how hard it got.

“If you would give me a chance, I’ll quit the SAS. I’d start all over again. I’ll butcher the carrots and apples with the bloody peeler, I’ll let the steakhouse mess up our reservation and eat a dozen soapy tacos… If you ever show up at my door with your pie again, I swear I’d kiss you, not scare you. And I’ll never let go. If it has to hurt, I want it to be you.”

The door clicked open, and like how it always went, it meant the dream was coming to an end.

“You make it worth it,” he muttered as his vision faded.

…

Simon gasped for air, this time staring up at blinding lights. He shielded his wet eyes, chuckling to himself.

“Bloody hell, I think I’m sick on the inside.”

“Only your past, but you are not your past.” Your voice echoed in the distance.

His body was too heavy to move. “Could you forgive me, for all of this?”

“Could you? You need to forgive more than you need to be forgiven.”

He laughed as another tear slipped.

Simon woke on his couch, still in his clothes from the night before. Dreaming of you always drained him, leaving him hollow and out of touch with his body.

He sat up with a groan, rubbing his face as the dizziness settled. He didn’t remember much after getting dragged to Richie’s car. Judging by the gnarly bruise on his arm, he probably fell last night, but he was glad he found his way back to his flat in one piece.

Stumbling to the shower, he hissed when his toe stubbed one of the boxes on the floor. It was a horrendous decision to drink so much, still having to pack the rest of his stuff. He leaned over the sink, staring at his bloodshot eyes.

His sergeant was right. He didn’t look good. He never did. What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Riley?

With his hair damp, he made his way to the kitchen. As he realised he’d packed all his tea stash in one of the bloody boxes, a series of knocks echoed in his flat.

He grumbled. It better be important for someone to disturb his peace, especially with the pounding of his head. He couldn’t be bothered putting a shirt on before he swung the door open.

It was you, a pie in hand like the first time he met you all those months ago.

“Hi, is Simon in?”

His heart lurched as he crushed you in a hug.

“Thought you said you were going to kiss me.”

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast @alright-i-guesss @maresoleil @mehjustalasshere @rrtxcmt

[dancingtotuyo]

11. up from the dust, inconceivable love

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Ellie learns the truth. Your family gains a member.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy related things, angst, hurt & comfort and no comfort?, self worth issues, canon violence, anger, child birth, spoilers for TLOU 2 (we’re entering the timeline that starts to burrow things for part 2 of the game)

Notes: huge thank you to my constants, my rocks @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and scream and break their hearts.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader! The final part is out now!

Words: 5352

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

“What do you think of Peace?” You ask, propped up in bed, hand over your swollen stomach. You’ve gained more weight this time, probably because you’re not in the throes of grief. 

“I mean, I’m a fan. I hope everyone is.” Joel says, trimming his facial hair with the bathroom door wide open. 

You bite your lip, admiring the expanse of his bare back. If getting out of bed wasn’t an event, you would be behind him right now, kissing his shoulders. 

“No, as a name for a girl,” you say. Joel turns around looking at you like he’s contemplating checking you into a psychiatric ward if those still existed. “A middle name, not a first name.” 

Joel sets his trimmers down, leaning in the doorway shirtless. “And what would her first name be?” 

“Willow.”

Joel furrows his brow stepping into your bedroom, your shared bedroom. “Darlin, I know we live in a commune, but we’re not hippies.”

“You bring me wildflowers and we walk barefoot through the fields. I wouldn’t be so sure.” You can’t help but laugh. Joel cracks a smile. “Do you have suggestions then?”

“Thought about naming Sarah- Katherine.”

You make a face. You know one too many Kates and Katies even in Jackson.

“It’s not a bad name,” Joel chuckles. 

“Neither is Willow.”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a hippie?”

“Would you leave if I said yes?”

Joel shrugs “I don’t know, but I knocked you up so I guess I have to stay.” He crawls into the bed. His head is level with your stomach as he watches for movement. 

You roll your eyes. “How romantic.”

He grins up at you and then his eyes are back on your belly. He rests a hand at the top, staring, waiting in wonderment. Neither of you can believe this is all real. Your baby moves around all the time, kicking your bladder and lungs, signifying life. A life you did not think would make it. 

You thread your fingers through Joel’s soft brown hair. The outline of a foot appears and then disappears. Joel’s eyes sparkle and he kisses the same spot. He’s soft and gentle. In these moments, all your anxieties are carried away like leaves on an autumn breeze. This is your peace. 

“What other names did you have picked out for Carter?”

You bite your lip. “We didn’t have any other boys' names.”

“And if he’d been a girl?” He’s still enthralled with your stomach as if there’s been an enchantment cast over it. 

“Sarah.”

His head snaps up. 

“Tommy and I talked about her a lot when I was pregnant. She was on my mind… being a part of Sarah’s life made me realize I wanted a family… even in this world where I had no right to do so.”

You keep playing with his hair. His eyes go glassy making you wonder what memory is playing behind his eyes. You stay like that until Joel is ready to talk. Eventually, he sits up, clearing his throat. His lips touch yours. 

“What about Willa?”

You tilt your head to the side. You don’t really see how it’s any different than Willow, but you’re not going to bring that up. “I like it.” 

“And Miles for a boy.” His smile returns. He doesn’t tell you that he’s positive you’re having a girl.

“Miles is an old man's name!”

“Good, then he’ll grow to be an old man.”

You take in a sharp breath. It’s just an offhand comment, but it carries so much weight. It’s a stark reminder of the heaviness of the world, and the twinge of guilt you feel bringing another child into it. 

Joel takes your hand, kissing your palm. You see it in his eyes too. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’tve-”

“It’s okay.” Your fingers comb through his hair. He leans into your touch. His grays are more noticeable than they were a year ago, but the brown still outnumbers them. 

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks.

“I don’t know… I- I haven’t really let myself think about it until today.” It's true. The fact of the matter is you’re within a month of your due date. You and Joel are so close to welcoming this baby into the world and are wildly unprepared. 

“We’re getting close… We need a crib.” 

“The one I used for Carter is in the attic.”

“I can bring it down in the morning.”

“I need to get some baby clothes. I traded all of Carter’s.” 

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do, Mama,” Joel smiles, kissing your forehead. He still hasn't told you about the swaddles and onesies tucked in the back of his drawer, but it seems you’re finally ready for them.

You cock your head to the side, contemplating the nickname. There’s a mix of emotions with it. You’re already a mother. Joel is a father, but this is a life you’re bringing in together. It’s uncharted territory for both of you. Sarah’s mom was out the door before she was six months old. Neither of you have done this part with a partner before. 

A sharp knock on the front door pulls your mind from its wandering. Joel’s brow furrows, rolling out of the bed. People don’t knock on your door often. They usually barrel right in, unless it’s bad. Your stomach drops. 

Joel is out of the bedroom, shrugging on a shirt. Dina’s voice calls through your home. “Hello?” She sounds worried, desperate. 

You swing your legs over the side of the bed. It takes more time to stand these days. If you try too quickly, your head rushes making you feel dizzy. 

“Dina? What’s wrong?” Joel’s at the bottom of the stairs now, but his voice carries. You have to stop at the top of the stairs to catch your breath. 

“Ellie is gone.”

You freeze, grabbing the railing for stability. “What?”

Joel turns around, worry etched in his face. “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. She mentioned something about the Fireflies and a hospital, but she wouldn’t talk to me.” You make out the flicker of hurt in Dina’s face. Those two tell each other everything, or most things. You’re not sure Ellie has told her about her immunity. You all keep that one pretty close to your chests. 

“Shit,” Joel mumbles. He glances between you at his back and the front door in front of him. You see the push and pull. He needs to go after her. He needs to be here for you. 

His eyes settle on you. Your hand settles on top of your swollen belly. He’s looking for permission. You want to give it, but what if he’s needed here before he gets back. 

“She’s been off lately. I don’t know why. She won’t talk to me.” Dina seems to sense the silent conversation going on. “I can go after her, but-“

“No, I need to go.” Joel swings back toward the teenager, both hands placed on his hips. You try to bite back the panic rising inside you. He’ll be fine. They’ll both be fine. “Do you know when she left?”

“Probably sometime before the sun came up. Shimmer isn’t in the stable.” 

Joel lets out a ragged sigh, hands running over his face. You try to keep the tears away, your hormones making it difficult. 

“Will you let Maria know I’m going after her? I need to pack.” 

Dina nods, her eyes flickering up to you before she’s gone in a flash of dark curls. Joel turns around, hand resting on the banister at the bottom of the stairs. You swallow and walk back into the bedroom. 

It’s silent at first, nothing but the sounds of draws opening and closing and the soft slaps of his leather saddle bags. You sit in silence at the edge of your bed, chewing on your lip as you watch him. Ellie needs him. It echoes on repeat in your brain. 

“I can probably catch her. We’ll be back in two weeks if I don’t.”

You stare down at your ever growing belly. You could easily be pregnant when he returns, but what if you’re not? You’re fairly certain you’ll have this baby sooner rather than later, but Ellie needs him too.

“Why does she want to go back to Salt Lake?”

Joel freezes for a second, like he’s contemplating his answer. It sets an uneasy feeling in your bones. “I don’t know. Maybe she thinks some of the Fireflies are still there? That this whole cure business is still an option?”

You nod, thoughts drifting to her face when you looked at her blood a couple months ago. She looked desperate. You hadn’t seen her like that before. It was almost unnerving, like the need to be needed by humanity had returned tenfold. It made you wonder if you’d been there for her enough these past few months.

“I have to go after her.”

There’s a desperation you don’t quite recognize in Joel’s eyes, sending a thread of dread through your body. Is he leaving something out? Not telling you something? You nod, biting your lip. “I know.”

He lays his hand on your bump, fingers stretching out over it. “We’ve got time.”

You nod. “Hurry back, and be safe, okay?”

Joel kisses your forehead. “Always.”

He rides out thirty minutes later. 

You try to stay busy while they’re gone, cleaning the clinic and the house thrice over as the nesting and anxiety sets in. You ask Tommy to get the crib out of the attic as you prep the corner of your bedroom for the baby, wiping it free from the dust and cobwebs. 

Maria hosts a small get together for you pulling together some semblance of a baby shower, something you hadn’t had with Carter. It's nice, but you feel like they skirt around the questions nagging in their brains. Where did Ellie and Joel go? Will they be back in time? You don’t have answers. You have the same fucking question. Will they be back? 

The braxton hicks kick up, so much so you think you’re in labor ten days after Joel rides out. The fear that courses through your body is so paralyzing that you just lay in bed. Your body tenses with the memory’s of Carter’s labor. It’s not the physical pain of it, but the emotional rollercoaster you went through, alone. You’re not supposed to do this alone this time.  

Then, the contractions stop with no explanation and you fall into a restless sleep. You miss Joel, his warmth and comfort. His unspoken love that fills the room. You’re becoming more comfortable with the idea of it. 

You miss Ellie too, worried about what she’s going through. Providing it’s still vacant, Salt Lake won’t hold any answer for her. What lengths will she go to? How many miles will she travel in search of answers you believe don’t exist? How will she handle reality? 

You see the differences in Carter too. In his mind, Ellie and Joel have always been here. Two weeks without them feels like a lifetime to him, and to you. 

On day twelve, your front door flies open as you come down the stairs. Ellie bursts through looking frantic and frazzled. Her short cropped hair sticks up in certain places. Dirt smudges her forehead. You’re too relieved to see her to worry about her appearance. If anything, it’s expected after two weeks of travel, but your relief is short lived. 

“Did you know?” She yells. The door stays wide open behind her, rage flaming in her eyes. 

“What?” 

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” You step toward her, reaching out, but she backs away like a wild animal.

“He killed them! All of them!” 

“Killed who? Ellie, take a deep breath.”

“Joel! He killed the fireflies! They had a cure!”

Your breath catches. It’s not that Joel has killed people. You know about the years he spent as a raider. You know the cost of surviving in this world, but this isn’t the story you have been told about Salt Lake. When you asked him why she would go back, he lied. He knew. Knew the story hadn’t lined up in Ellie’s mind. 

“So he lied to you too!”

“Ellie!” Joel is stern as his frame fills your doorway. 

She spins around, the week of silence she spent next to him on the road back, wrath bubbling over and focused on him. “Tell her! Tell her, Joel!” She steps toward him. “Tell her what you did!” She shoves against his shoulders. 

“Ellie…” He repeats her name, softer this time. 

“Don’t do that!” She turns back to you, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They were going to make a cure from me, and you stopped them! You slaughtered them!”

“They were going to kill you!”

Your eyes widen, and it makes sense. Why Joel hasn’t talked about it. Why he needed to go after her. Why Ellie feels so useless. She’d been promised the cure. He’d taken that from her with a facade of an excuse.

“You should have let them!” Ellie screams until she pushes past him, rushing out of your house. 

Joel lets out a sigh, defeat evident across his features. You can’t even enjoy their homecoming, their safety, your head spinning too much. 

Joel shuts the door behind him, stepping closer like he’s expecting an embrace, but you step back, a mother’s anger building in your bones. He looks surprised. “Sweetheart…”

“You lied to her.”

“I protected her.” Joel’s eyes narrow. He’s tired and irritable. Neither of you expected a fight to ensue the moment he got home. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You’ve watched her struggle with this for years!” 

“They were going to kill her!”

“Have you listened to anything she’s said?” 

You almost don’t recognize the Joel in front of you. He looks like a shell of the assured, warm man you know. You wonder if this is the version of Joel Tommy used to speak of. The one Joel has told you about during those late night chats when you spilled the depths of yourselves to each other, or you thought you had. The one who floated through his days, barely living. 

“I couldn’t lose her!” 

“Except you did!”

Joel straightens, shoulders setting in denial. “She’s alive! That’s what matters.”

“You’re missing the point!”

“You’re saying I should have let them go ahead with it! Let them cut open her head for a cure you don’t believe is possible!” 

Fire blazes in Joel's eyes. You see it. There’s no rationalizing with him about this. In his eyes, there were no choices to be made. He did the only thing. It doesn’t matter what else he has to sacrifice, she’s alive and that’s all that matters. “That’s not-”

He scoffs, cutting you off. You see the pain and hurt ripple through his body, causing him to step back from you. “Sure sounds like it.”

“Joel!”

“Don’t.” He yanks the front door open. “I can’t be here right now.” 

He disappears across the threshold in the blink of an eye leaving you with a mountain to process and a growing tension across your stomach.

Joel knows he’s in the wrong. He knows he shouldn’t have lied to Ellie, held the truth from you. He’s a grown man, of course he knows what’s right and wrong, but that admittance doesn’t do anything to calm him. He needs to get out. Out of the house. Out of the walls into the open. It doesn’t matter that he just came from two weeks out there. 

He sneaks over the wall with more ease than he should be able. Instantly, he feels the tightening in his chest begin to ease. He paces the outside of the wall like a caged animal, the series of events reeling through his mind. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been pushing it back since they left Salt Lake. Her words, her pleas, over and over. She’d given him every opportunity to tell her the truth and he kept the lie going. 

There was no cure. The words he’d utter to her after they found that couple, one dead the other infected while out on patrol. 

He’d almost told her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t risk it.  

His pacing becomes more frantic as he remembers the fear he felt at the thought of losing Ellie, the fear that pushed him into wiping away every firefly that crossed his path. The same fear that put lies in his mouth before he had time to think, that kept him from telling her the truth. He knew this would happen one day, but hadn’t been enough. He’d kept it from everyone, including you. 

Tell me, she had pleaded with him, begged him and he still felt the pull to replace his lie with another. 

She’d had to poke and prod to get the words from his mouth. Had to threaten to leave before she got the truth. That hurt almost as much as the fallout. Everyone thought he was a better man than he actually was. Ellie, you, himself, but when it came down to it. He failed that test. Good men don’t make someone threaten to leave to get the truth. 

I’ll go back, but we’re done.

Joel wears a path in the fresh grass beneath his feet, letting the spring chill take over when the sun sets, leaving him in darkness. Ellie had kept her word. He’d never heard her stay quiet for so long. The loss had begun to settle in with her riding next to him. 

Joel’s muscles ache from two weeks out on the road. He misses you and Carter. He hasn’t even touched you yet. Will you let him? 

Getting over the wall from the outside proves more difficult than it had the first time. Which is a good thing, but had Joel feeling every one of his 59 years. Embarrassment creeps over his cheeks with each step toward your home. The one he shares with you, but he feels like a guest as he climbs the steps. He doesn’t catch a glimpse of you or Carter or anyone else through the windows. 

The house is silent when he enters, no signs of life except for the faint buzzing of light bulbs. His brow furrows. You wouldn’t have left the lights on if you weren’t home. Then a faint sound comes from upstairs, movement at the very least. He follows it, placing his hand on the closed bedroom door before cracking it open. 

Soft groans come from behind the cracked bathroom door followed by a whispered curse. Maria's voice follows. Joel’s throat drops into his stomach. His boots echo off the wood floor as he crosses the room. “Sweetheart?” he calls, staying on his side of the door. “Is everything alright?”

“Joel? Get in here,” you groan out. 

It sends some reassurance through him to hear you so clearly before he swings the door open. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in the tub, sweat staining your skin as Maria kneels next to you. “Shit, are you?”

“Make yourself useful and hold my hand.” 

He nods, kneeling beside you. Maria stands, grabbing a few instruments from the bathroom sink, she gives Joel a look that lets him know you’re near the end of labor. Your baby will be here in minutes. It sends a rush through him. “I’m sorry, Darlin.”

You grab onto his hand tightly. It’s wet from the bathwater sloshing around you as you fight to get comfortable. It’s a useless pursuit, but it doesn’t keep you from trying. “Can we do the apologizing later? I’m kinda busy at the moment.” 

“Yes,” Joel takes a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears. He squares his shoulders next to you, giving an air of assurance you know he doesn’t have. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

“I think you missed most of it.”

“Not that you’ve had much to miss,” Maria says, stern. She pissed at him, which is more than fair given everything. You’d had some time to explain what happened. “We tried to find you. Her labor progressed pretty quick.”

“Speaking of which-” You let out a gasp, face twisting in pain. “I think the baby is crowning.”

“She must be in a hurry,” Joel says. 

“She?” 

“Just a hunch.” Joel smiles, kissing your head.

For the next few minutes, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Your fight never happened because there’s only one thing on your minds, bringing your baby into the world. The world goes silent again, but not in a bad way. A way that makes you feel at peace, Joel’s warm hand in yours. It doesn’t take long until she announces her arrival with a fiery scream once Maria pulls her out of the water. 

You hold her close, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. Joel leans in, his forehead pressed to your temple, arms wrapping around you and your daughter as she pulls air into her lungs. 

“You did great, Sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair as he kisses your cheek, cupping your daughter’s head. “She’s beautiful.”

Your eyes flicker between him and your newborn. It’s the moment you’ve been envisioning for months, the one you thought you’d get with Gabe when Carter was born. A little piece of you mends. Your child soothes against your skin. 

After you’re both cleaned up, Joel helps you into bed, then settles beside you. She sleeps in your arms, tiny fist clenched around one of Joel’s fingers still curled up in your softest bath towel. You brush her cheek softly. 

“I believe we decided on Willa Peace?”

“Did we?” You tilt your head to the side, a grin verging on your lips. “I thought we weren’t hippies.”

Joel shrugs, tracing your shoulders. “I had a lot of time to think about it the past couple of weeks.”

“Joel…”

Dirt still traces over his face. He hasn’t had time to clean off since he got back. You catch the faint smell of sweat on his clothes and skin. “I know.”

“I would have done the same thing to save her. You know what I think about cures.” You keep your gaze on your child. It only reminds you what you brought her into. “You lied to her over and over when she needed the truth.”

“I was trying to protect her.”

“I wish you would’ve told me.”

“I know.”

“This only works if we’re open with each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” You bite your lip. “I’m going to need some time with this one.”

Joel nods, arm wrapping around you. “I know.”

You lean into him, enjoying the quietness that surrounds the three of you.

“Willa Peace Miller,” You smile. “Has a nice ring to it.”

“Yeah.” Joel hums beside you. “Can’t believe she’s actually here.” 

“And we’re both okay.”

He nods, and neither of you can tear your eyes away from the precious little being in your arms. You hang on every rise and fall of her chest, everything micro movements, the soft flutter of her eyes that never quite open. It all feels so fragile, so sacred. 

You remember similar moments with Carter. When the grief and the world got too loud, you would lay on the floor or bed with him on your chest asleep. The weight of his small body was a tether that kept you from flying away. 

Even in this moment, as your heart inexplicitly expands, you feel that thread of fear winding itself through your body. Another person to love and protect. Another person to keep from the jaws of the world. Another person you can’t bear to lose. 

“You know,” you say, pulling Joel’s attention. “If you were ever gonna pull those baby clothes and blankets out of your drawer, now would be the time.”

His brow furrows and then eases with realization. “How long have you known they were there?”

You let out a soft chuckle. “I washed them the next time you went out on patrol. I wasn’t going to leave those filthy things in your drawer.”

“You were going through my things, I see.”

“Next time don’t try to hide something in your drawer from the person who washes your clothes.” 

Joel laughs, easing out of the bed to fetch the items from the drawer. “Got it, I’ll be sneakier next time.”

“Can you get the onesie with the yellow flowers?” You bite back a smile. He doesn’t know how you often pulled the drawer open and just gazed upon the items. It helped you visualize it all even when the fear threatened to take over. Another child, and here she was. You’d been most drawn to the little yellow flowers. 

Joel laughs, grabbing the onsie and the swaddle with little yellow flowers to match. You’re gentle with her as you work the small article of clothing over her tiny body. It’s a bit baggy, but you can’t complain. It just means she can wear it for longer. She sleeps through all the jostling as if she’s fully absorbed her middle name. 

She’s settled back into your arms when a soft tap echoes on your door. “Mommy?” Carter’s voice comes through muffled. 

“You can come in.”

The door flies open as your son bursts through the door, grin spread wide on his face. Ellie stands behind him, looking like the space might envelope her.

 “Aunt Maria said I have a baby sister.” 

“You want to meet her?” you ask. 

Carter nods eagerly, dashing toward your bed. Joel catches him before he can jump onto the bed beside you and potentially on you. 

“Daddy!” Carter’s eyes go wide. He hasn’t seen Joel in almost two weeks. 

Joel laughs, arms tightening around the boy. “Hey, bud.”

Your eyes meet Ellie’s. Her eyes are red, bags deep underneath. You motion her next to you. She hesitates before sliding onto the bed beside you. She’s timid, keeping to the edge, eyes flicking over you and Willa. 

“You can get closer.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I never got to hug you earlier.” 

She looks down, eyes scanning over your comforter like she’s reliving her homecoming. Once she’s close enough, your arm slips around her shoulders, tugging her close. She nuzzles into your side like a child seeking comfort. “You’re alright?” she asks.

“Yeah… we both are.” You say, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“But I’m still sorry you’re going through this.”

Ellie seems to sink into your further, eyes pinned to Willa. She doesn’t answer you. She doesn’t look at Joel as he sinks next to you with Carter, but you feel her tense when he does. 

“What’s her name?” Ellie asks. 

“Willa,” you reply. 

“Baby Willa.” Carter grins proudly. 

And the five of you sit there together in silence. You try to push it out of your head that it’s the last time you all might be together for a while. Even now, you feel the underlying anger rolling through Ellie’s body. This is a wound that’s been festering. It’s going to take time to heal. 

Eventually, Ellie slips from your side without a word to leave. She’s barely out the door when Joel goes after her. 

“Ellie,” Joel says, catching her on the front porch.

Her head whips around, expression set in stone. “I’m here for them, not you.” She keeps her voice low to not be overheard by nosy neighbors. “They’re my family. Do you understand?” 

Joel’s apology catches in his throat. He’s been apologizing the whole way back from Salt Lake. He knows there’s nothing he can say to rush this process. He made a decision, and these are his consequences. “Yeah… I got it.”

“Good.” 

She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.  

The bed is empty next to you, the sheets cool to the touch. Your eyes blink open. Cool moonlight shines through the window. You glance at the bathroom door. No light shines through the crease. Joel’s name is on your lips, interrupted by his voice. 

“Do you like the butterflies?” 

You turn to your side. Joel sits next to the crib, talking to Willa. She’s awake, moonlight reflecting off her big eyes. She’s content and still. 

“Your big sister liked butterflies. When they come out in the summertime, I feel her around me.”

She stares at Joel, mesmerized by his voice. Your eyes float upward to the mobile Joel made. He hadn’t explained it to you, but you already knew. Sarah had pinned them all throughout their Austin home. You keep one stuck to the window above the kitchen sink. There’s one tucked in his nightstand drawer. 

“I think she sent you to me.” He lets it sit there, contemplating the weight and depth of what he said. “I think she sent you to me, your momma, Ellie, I suppose she’s your big sister too, Carter. All of you.

“Her name was Sarah. She would have loved you.” He chuckles. “She used to ask me for a baby brother or sister. I didn’t know your momma yet… Well, I guess I did, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.”

You stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. Joel’s eyes lock on yours. He smiles, shooting you a wink. He looks younger under the moonlight, more at ease. The creases in his skin are less apparent. 

“Your momma, she’s quite a bit younger than me.” The smile stays pinned to his face. “It’s not so creepy now- least that’s what she tells me- but it would’ve been then, and I was a decent fella back before the world went to shit. Besides, between you and me.” He leans closer to Willa’s ear, but his eyes are still on you. “Your momma had a pretty big crush on me back then.”

You groan, heat flushing your cheeks. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is. You chuck his pillow at him. Joel catches it, laughing. It’s the kind that sits deep in one’s chest and bubbles up with the purest kind of joy. You can’t help but smile. 

He slowly stands, grunting as he does. You hear the familiar pop of his joints. He leans into the crib. You notice Willa’s eyes have fallen shut. “I love you, my little wildflower.” He kisses her cheek before falling back into bed next to you. 

His arm wraps around your waist. Pulling you close, he steals a kiss on your forehead. “I’m getting too old to sit on the floor like that.”

“You’re getting too old to have a newborn, yet here we are.” Your fingers run through his hair. 

“Still can’t believe she’s here… you’re both healthy.”

“Neither can I.” You glance back at the crib. She’s just a few days old and already, you can’t imagine life without her. 

Tears well at the corner of your eyes. Your heart has grown so much. You thought you couldn’t open it to more people, yet here you are. The you of 4 years ago would be too terrified of losing this life to give it a chance, the price of pain too high. Yet here you are, embracing it, taking that risk, because this is living, and the love and belonging far outweigh the potential for pain even as it grows with every passing day. You fell into the trap,and it’s a crowded one, but it’s a happy one. 

Joel kisses your cheek. “You should get some sleep before she wakes up hungry.” 

“Mmm,” you hum as his hands move soothingly over your back. “Someone not named Willa woke me up.”

Joel chuckles. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

But even now you feel your eyelids getting heavier. 

“Did you mean what you said?”

“About?”

You let your eyes fall shut as Joel massages out a knot in your back. You lean into it. “About Sarah sending us to you.”

“I did.” He kisses your forehead. 

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

[xrenjunniesx]

May we continue to love forever

bf!haechan

fluff, mentions of murder jokes

word count : 1,341

In moments like these where you let yourself delve into your thoughts. Staring out the window as the train began to start up again, slowly chugging down the rail road, you found yourself thinking of how you became so lucky to meet the guy that sat right next to you.

It was cliche, really. He ran into you when talking to his friends and proceeded to get lost in your eyes as he apologised. You two talked for hours after that first meeting, he left his friends just so he could go and get to know the girl he fell for.

His soft brown hair soon was dyed black and you fell for him all over again - even when you two had been dating for months at this point.

It was times when you least expected it, that you would fall in love with him all over again.

When the wind would be blowing your hair back, messing it up in the process but he would just stare loving at you and brush the hair behind your hair so it didn’t bother you so much.

You always thought about that moment. The way your heart fluttered and you felt your face heat up, it always brought a small smile to your face.

You felt a tap on your thigh, “Babe, this is our stop.” You looked towards Haechan and quickly stood up, following after him as he walks off the train.

“What would you do without me.” He spoke in a teasing manner, passing you your bag - which you had forgotten about completely.

“I would be perfectly fine without you.” It wasn’t a lie. It just so happened that whenever you were with him, you became so relaxed that you forgot things that you wouldn’t normally forget. You knew he would be there for you to pick up on the things you forgot.

“So why did you want to come here?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his puffer jackets pockets.

“It’s a surprise.” You smile at the boy and begin to walk in front of him to lead the way. He followed behind you, a love struck smile plastered onto his face despite the icy winds that had the both of you shivering even in the warmest jackets you had.

“Did we have to come down near the ocean on a day like this? I’m going to freeze to death.” He complains after a few minutes of walking in peacefully silence. It was a quiet area, but with the weather it was even more quiet. People chose to stay inside the warmth on days like this. Not the two of you though.

You were sure that Haechan would love to go back home now, but you were determined to show him the surprise. It would be worth it once you get there

“Don’t start complaining now, Hyuck, we will get there soon.”

“Gosh, why is there no people around-“ he paused and you heard his teeth chattering for a moment before he continued. “You’re taking me to a murder spot aren’t you? Is this why you were so eager? Is my death the surprise.”

You stopped walking and began to laugh at the boy. He stopped next to you, a lazy grin across his face.

“No Haechan, I don’t want to murder you, at least not here.”

“Why? I think this would be a lovely place to die.” You sigh at his words, beginning to walk again.

“Let’s not talk about such matters when I’m quite literally taking you to a place of pure happiness.”

“is it my grave-“

“Haechan!” You shouted, looking at him only to see him avoiding your gaze and laughing to himself.

The two of you arrive at a local restaurant. As you stepped inside, memories seemed to come back to Haechan. His eyes widened and he grabbed ahold of your jacket.

“No way… you found this place.”

“I didn’t. Mark said he had been here and I wanted to surprise you.”

Haechan stared in awe as he looked around the same restaurant that he had only seen in movies and dramas. The same restaurant that he for some reason was never able to find the address off.

As the two of you followed a waiter to a table, you felt Haechan grabbing ahold of your hand. He interlocked your fingers for a brief second, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go when the waiter looked back to speak to you.

The both of you sat down and looked at the menu. it was a quiet family owned restaurant that left Haechan in awe. He took in the beautiful layout and the romantic lighting the place had. Plus the heating in here made it a perfect moment for him.

He took off his jacket and looked towards you while you read the names of the dishes that you were interested in getting. You weren’t doing anything special in that moment, simply sitting there and reading a menu, and yet Haechan fell in love with you all over again.

He lifted his phone up, aiming the camera at you and quickly snapping a picture. The clicking sound caught your attention and you look up from the menu to see the boy giggling to himself as he looked at his phone.

“Did you really take a picture of me?” You say, placing the menu down on the table, unable to hide the smile slowly growing on your face.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He says, putting his hands up. “I just think you look very pretty right now.”

You blushed and quickly looked away from his eyes, picking the menu back up and telling him to pick a dish. He chuckles at you but never the less listens to what you said.

The both of you eat your meals rather quietly, simply enjoying the atmosphere and the gentle music that played in the background. The cloudy blue sky became darker as the night rolled in and the sun set.

“I want to stay here tonight.” Haechan says, sinking back into his chair. He looks over at you, staring into your eyes that were growing tired.

“I should book us a hotel room.” He says, picking up his phone.

You reach over the table and push his phone down a bit. “We don’t have any extra clothes on us.”

Haechan shrugs his shoulders. “We can always buy some tomorrow, or tonight quickly before stores start to close.”

You sigh and say, “You really don’t want to go back home?”

He shakes his head, reaching across the table to grab a hold of your hands. “I want to stay with you all night in a place as beautiful as this town.”

You chuckle at his words, “You’ve only really seen this store, what do you mean this town.”

“I’m sure the town is as beautiful as you are.” You want to laugh at his over the top flirting but you decide to delve into it. He loved complimenting you, even if it was in the more embarrassing way possible.

“and if it’s ugly?” You say, raising an eyebrow expectantly at him.

“then it’s because you’re too beautiful that everything else becomes ugly.”

You roll your eyes and stand up, ready to go pay for the meal. He leaps from the chair and almost trips you as he rushes past you to pay for it.

“You paid for the train tickets, I’ll pay for the meal and the hotel room.”

you couldn’t deny the offer and decided to let him pay for the meal.

As the two of you put your jackets on and stepped outside into the freezing cold air, you hear Haechan say in a light manner,

“You know, you should’ve lied when you said Mark found this place. It’s less romantic knowing he found it.”

You scoff out a laugh and shove the boy. “Shut up and get a hotel room, it’s too cold out here.”

[mattsfuturegf]

Eat It From The Back | M.Sturniolo

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊!𝐅𝐄𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 matt has a proposition for you and you cannot turn it down when matt gives you the puppy eyes.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 matt eats it from the back, oral (f! receiving), dom!reader, sub!matt, matt calls reader ‘mommy’ one time, praise kink, a little bit of plot but rest is pure smut (i think that’s it but let me know if i missed anythin’)

𝐀/𝐍 based off of this twt link >>> https://x.com/6ixnsfw/status/1781861729472847953?s=46

https://x.com/6ixnsfw/status/1781861729472847953?s=46

“I have a proposition for you,” Your boyfriend snapped you out of your thoughts as you glance up from your phone after scrolling through TikTok and placing your phone down to see Matt fumbling with his fingers at the edge of his bed.

You smile at him and crawl towards him on his bed and place your chin on his shoulder looking at him with doe eyes, making him melt slightly before he snapped out of his memory and grabbed your waist pulling you into his lap circling his arms around your waist caging you in place.

“What’s up, baby?” You place your fingers underneath his chin to lock your eyes together and he looked up at you with doe eyes which made your heart swell as you placed a kiss onto his plump lips and pushed his hair back. “Could we y’know, try something?” Matt asked sort of shyly and you smirked, not knowing where he was going with this but nodded anyway.

Matt was nervous, you could see it. You knew your boyfriend like it was the back of your hand and he was super nervous, you didn’t know what proposition he had for you was but you were open to it whatever it was.

“Ireallywanttoeatyoufromtheback,” Matt said really fast and you almost had to strain to hear him but you heard him completely and smirked slightly at Matt’s rushed voice, his face was tinted pink and hid his face in your chest before you had time to answer.

You picked up his head from your chest and he looked up at you with his eyes blown wide and you smirked leaning down to place a long kiss onto his lips as he sighed into the kiss bringing you impossibly closer than you already were before you pulled away and pushed him onto his bed, his hands on your waist as you straddled him.

“You wanna eat my pussy from the back, sweet boy?” Your dominant side had came out, Matt knew that whenever he had a new proposition he would be putty under your hands in no time. Matt whined as he dug his fingers into your sides which probably made bruises but you didn’t care, as you patted his chest for him to take his shirt off.

Matt got the hint and grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, his chest exposed and his tattoos running down his arm which made you wetter than ever. You had always loved Matt’s tattoos and he was always whiny whenever you had kissed his tattoos, and you loved the way Matt whined.

“Okay, take all of this off” You demanded, pointing to his clothes before crawling off of him and standing at the edge of the bed with your arms crossed.

Matt wasn’t going to lie, he often liked when your dominant side came out and when you manhandled and or demanded him like this, it made him want you even more.

He was on his feet in a second, discarding his jeans and boxers at the same time before getting back onto his bed and leaning against the headboard watching with wide eyes as you stripped off his long t-shirt that hung against your waist tightly. His mouth nearly watered at the fact that you had no bra on as your underwear was stripped off and flung across his room.

You got onto the bed and crawled towards him, his eyes trained on yours as you gripped his jaw and smashed your lips onto his as he sighed into the kiss small smirk turning into a smile as you pulled away.

''What do you say, sweetheart?'' You reprimanded and he whines slightly, his lips turning into a pout.

Matt looks up at you with puppy eyes, ''Please let me eat your pussy from the back, mommy'' your eyes darkened at the pet name and you smirked slightly, before turning around and settling yourself onto his chest.

His breath hitched before he circled his arms around your waist and started literally devouring you, you cried out just as his tongue came in contact with your clit straight away. ''God, good boy Matty'' you whined out before he shook his head, tongue slipping in and out of your hole making your legs shake.

You knew Matt was amazing in bed, hell, you had been dating for over two years and he still amazed you every time. Every time you or him had come up with a proposition, you both were down for it, it showed how healthy your relationship had been for the past two years. You love Matt, you always have and he feels the same about you-

Snapping out of your thoughts, a pornagraphic moan left your lips as Matt hit your g-spot with his fingers that you didn't know he had sneakily slipped into your hole. Matt smirked as he felt your felt your hole contract around his fingers and tongue. ''Fuck-- m' gonna cum, Matt'' and he sped up his fingers scissoring inside of you and tongue flicking over your clit as your legs shook.

''Fuck fuck, Matty m' gonna cum, sweet boy'' You felt Matt hum against you as you reached your climax, feeling your ears ring as you nearly pass out as he kept going over your clit with his tongue lapping all of the cum that dripped out of you, overstimulating you before you felt him pull away and rub his hands over the curve of your ass kneading it softly.

“Did that feel okay,” Matt asked softly as you turned around slowly to sit on his lap, his dick grazing your clit as you hissed at the overstimulation.

“You did not just ask that question, you know damn well how good that was Matt” you told him as you grasped his jaw and pulled him in for a long kiss as he sighed and smiled contently into the kiss.

You two were definitely doing that again.

𝐀/𝐍 i hope you enjoyed this! this is my first smut i’ve written so i hope it lived up to expectations, kisses for all for u <3

[xhdream]

wild cherry (18+)

pairing: skater!jiseok x fem!reader x hyeongjun

genre: smut, sprinkle of fluff wc: 3.9k

summary: your childhood best friend who studies abroad comes back for the summer break. his first day in his hometown after not visiting for three years ends with a sweet unforgettable experience and an unexpected new friendship for you

contains: sub!reader, slight food play? (there’s a scene with a lollipop involved, if it sounds uncomfortable to you, i advise not reading this), unprotected sex, public sex, oral (f), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, masturbation (m), exhibitionism, voyeurism

a/n: please, keep in mind english is not my first language, i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

!! this is pure fiction for entertainment purposes

There’s so much that three years can do to a person.

You realise it after you walk out through the front door and call out Jiseok’s name who’s on the other sidewalk.

He’s sitting on his skateboard, settled under a tree to hide from the July sun and waiting patiently to see you for the first time after three years.

You cross the street, and run into his arms. He doesn’t even get the chance to give you one proper look, because you immediately jump on him with the widest most radiant smile.

His arms lift you up in the air as you scream at him for not telling you that he’s decided to come back for the summer.

He only giggles into your hair which is half-wet with a sweet scent that tickles his senses. His arms stay tightly wrapped around your back.

“I just got here last night and you’re already yelling at me.” He jokes quietly, but you barely hear a word from your heart beating so fast.

His appearance can continue to change as much as it wants, but the welcoming feeling of his comforting presence will always remain the same, and you will miss it every time he’s gone no matter what.

You feel the warm breeze across the back of your thighs, and you realise the flowy summer dress you’re wearing has hiked up your body a bit too much, exposing more skin than it’s appropriate. Jiseok’s grip around your body unintentionally exposed most of your panties by bringing you in the air, and you decide it’s time to let go before any of your neighbours see it.

“Sorry for making you wait,” you speak up almost out of breath from the excitement, “but I was in the shower when you called.”

“No worries.” He chuckles, and you don’t know if it’s just you getting used to hearing it again in person, or if the sound really has changed a bit. “What’s thirteen minutes compared to three years?” He gives you an ear to ear smile as his eyes squint from the bright sunlight.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

He shrugs shoulders, because the reason is pretty simple and obvious.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

You both can’t stop grinning at each other, closely observing the changes that you’ve missed during all this time. His hair has gotten longer, his figure more broad and confident, his gaze - bolder. You’ve sent many selfies in the chat, many pictures, videos and you talk on facetime often, but it’s not the same.

Not even close.

“I have a surprise for you too.” You move your hand up in front of his eyes and Jiseok gasps loudly.

“No way!” He grabs the lollipop the second he sees it. The same one you always used to buy while you were in high school and continued to buy after graduation. “Wait,” his brows fake a suspicious look, “did you know I was flying home? Do you have some psychic powers you’re not telling me about?”

“I wish,” you laugh. “I just buy some once in a while, especially this time of the year. The flavour reminds me of the good ol’ days.”

“Thanks, I missed them.” He opens his arms, inviting you in a hug again. “And you too.”

You cling onto his body, genuinely grateful to have him so close to you again. The memories throughout the years you’ve created together since you were little kids running on this same street you are standing right now, burst into your mind, but you shove them away, wanting to be fully focused on the present.

“I missed you too. More than I expected.”

“Told you it will be boring without me.”

After you back away, Jiseok accidentally peeks into your cleavage while you fix your dress, and his laughter suddenly dies down. He shifts his gaze up to your face with a coy smirk.

“You look beautiful by the way.”

It’s not only your nicely shaped breasts that he’s complimenting, but your blossomed beauty too.

“Thanks.” You respond a bit flustered because it’s the last thing you expected to hear from him.

“Oh!” He turns around. “Check out my new skateboard deck.” He lifts it in front of his chest with a proud grin. “Customised it myself.”

“I knew there was an artsy side to you.”

You run your fingertips along the colorful deck, telling him how much you like the creative design.

Jiseok hops on the skateboard, and you both take a stroll around the neighbourhood. He said he wanted to see if anything has changed since he left to study abroad, and you tell him the only difference is that a few people moved.

As the both of you chat, jumping from one topic into another, you catch with your peripheral vision that Jiseok is taking off his t-shirt. You quickly look away, but not for long because his feet speed up the wheels of the skate and he’s suddenly ahead of you with his back muscles into your face.

He used to constantly yell at you “check this out!” before doing his tricks, but now he doesn’t do it anymore; maybe he grew out of it and since he’s shown impressive skills in a few competitions he doesn’t feel the need to.

He pops ollie high in the air before groaning from the hot temperature. His shirt hangs from his shoulder, and the closer you get, the better you see his tanned skin and the abs… especially the abs.

“We should go to the skate park before I leave so you can see my newest jump. I learned something that will make your jaw drop.”

“We should,” you agree.

You don’t ask when he’s leaving. You don’t want to know just yet.

Later in the afternoon Jiseok called you to hangout, and you noticed that your heart is racing quicker with each passing minute as you wait for him to pick you up with his dad’s car.

It’s unusual. There’s no reason for it to beat this furiously for a friend you’ve known all your life.

The vehicle approaches and you sigh with relief once you sit on the passenger seat, enjoying the colder air.

“Seatbelt, please.” Jiseok glances at your chest before preparing to leave the empty street. “Hot, isn’t it?”

“Deadly,” you complain, secretly checking your reflection in the rear view mirror.

You thought it would be just the two of you, but turns out a friend of his will be joining you.

“Do you mind?” Jiseok asks, paying attention to the busy road.

His schedule currently is packed by meeting up with many hometown friends that he hasn’t seen in a long time. He does his best to squeeze in everyone in a short period of time, and you understand that.

“Of course not, it will be fun.” You reassure him with a quick curl of your lips. “Do I know him?” You ask, worried if the slight disappointment you felt is echoing in your voice.

“I might’ve mentioned him before, but I don’t think you’ve met him.” Jiseok admits after a few seconds of thinking. “I’m sure you’re gonna like him though,” he quickly adds. “He’s not like most of my friends, don’t worry.”

“I like your friends!” You turn to him with a fake expression of surprise.

“No, you don’t.” Jiseok peeps at you before fixing his gaze on the road again.

His laugh rings in the car, and you feel a wave of relief. You’re glad he doesn’t mind your opinions on most of his friends. Not that he’s here to hang out with them and invite you to come along, but when he’s done with college he may have more opportunities to travel to his hometown… You wonder what his friends are like in his current new life. Does he act the same when he’s with them or is there a different version of Kwak Jiseok that you have no idea about?

“Here he is.” Jiseok shouts through a wide grin, rolling down the window. He sticks out his hand and his friend greets him with some kind of special fist bump. “Damn, the ponytail is sick.” He exclaims after the dark haired boy settles in the back seat. “I didn’t know you’re growing out your hair.”

“Thanks,” Jiseok’s friend says. His voice is coming in a mellow calming tone from behind your shoulder. “Thought you knew.”

“Maybe I would’ve if you facetimed me more.”

His friend laughs through a sarcastic reply, and Jiseok finally introduces you.

“Hyeongjun, this is Y/N, you’ve heard about her, Y/N, this is Hyeongjun.”

“Nice to meet you.” You turn around, reaching for his hand.

He accepts it gently with a genuine smile, and that smile awes you quite honestly. As he walked towards the car you noticed he has a nice slim figure with an appearance that seems appealing at first glance, but now that you take a closer look at him, his face is charming. It makes you want to keep staring at him.

“Actually,” Jiseok’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you turn back around, “Hyeongjun attends the same college as you, Y/N. He’s majoring in Art.”

“Really?” You peek at him intrigued.

“Have you seen each other around?” Jiseok asks curiously while taking a left turn. He’s driving towards a nearby supermarket where you’ve decided to grab drinks and snacks for a picnic at the park.

“I don’t think so,” you mumble and Hyeongjun agrees with you.

“Figured.” Jiseok nods. “Hyeongjun would’ve remembered you.”

“Wow, I didn’t expect it to get so empty here.”

It’s midnight, and the only sounds left around are coming from your unending conversation with Jiseok and Hyeongjun. You can hear occasionally some murmurs or barking in the distance, but it seems that from now on it will only get quieter.

The multiple beer cans are sitting empty outside of the blanket on which the three of you are lazing on along with a few empty packages of snacks.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Jiseok sneaks a hand in the pocket of his pants and quickly unwraps the lollipop you gave him this morning. He puts a hand on his chest, overreacting after tasting it. “Just like I remember.”

“Wild cherry. It’s your favourite, right?” You direct your eyes on him, as you keep resting on your back. He’s sitting in front of you in one of the corners of the blanket, shirtless.

He humms in agreement, pulling out the lolly through his plump lips before showing off his enticing smile.

“But this one is even sweeter cause it’s from you.”

He hides it back in his mouth enjoying the way you attempt to look away shyly. Even in the darkness your features glimmer with a beam of light, and he can see clearly when you’re reacting to his words in a more special way.

Hyeongjun who’s sitting with his back leaning against the tree is picking out the next song to play on his phone while still drinking the remaining sips of his last beer.

He cannot help but steal shameless glances at your laying figure as you chuckle at almost everything Jiseok says. Your hair is spilling on the ground messy, but still beautiful while your naked legs move playfully left to right, distracting him with their hypnotising curves.

“Caramel apple should not come before wild cherry,” Jiseok bursts out dumbfounded.

“That’s your opinion,” you fight back. “I like it, I think it’s great.”

“Better than this?” He holds the red lollipop, anticipating your answer with raised brows.

“Maybe,” you reply, but you’re not able to say anything more after Jiseok moves closer, suddenly prepping himself over you. His lips hover over your mouth, slightly redder than their usual color, as his eyes pierce through yours which are stunned; not able to stop at just one part of his face. “What?” You ask.

“Can I kiss you so you can tell me if you still think that?”

You’ve never craved any taste so badly in your life.

“Yes.”

Jiseok presses his lips on yours, hard, yet cautiously at the same time. A burst of excitement and lust explodes in your chest the moment your mouths connect, allowing your lips to move in sync and explore parts of each other that were till now unfamiliar. Your tongues meet and the sweet flavour increases in your mouth as Jiseok’s dominates over yours.

He breaks the kiss, breathing out.

A moment later of just staring at each other somehow you find a conclusion despite the fuzziness of your mind.

“No, you’re right.” You answer, still facing him so closely. “Wild cherry is better.”

Your response provokes a smirk of pride on Jiseok’s face before it disappears from your vision. He moves lower down your body, his hands hike up your delicate dress that if you ask him, you look pretty much naked in anyway.

His palms explore your bare stomach and hips and you feel how every single place he touches starts heating up despite the normal temperature.

You spread your legs wider and Jiseok levels his face with your clothed cunt with a lollipop in mouth. He grabs it by the handle before speaking up.

“I have a feeling you’re sweeter, baby.” His thumb rubs the spot where your clit is and you sigh from how nice it feels. “Should we find out?”

You meet his heavy gaze between your legs.

“Yeah… I’d like that.”

After your permission, Jiseok moves your panties to the side, and shoots a warm thrill in your entire body through a long lick with his flat tongue. He repeats the same motion more slowly, giving you time to adjust to the feeling before he goes in to suck on your bundle of nerves, shutting his eyes in delight.

Hyeongjun respectfully ignored everything that happened a moment before this… however, he feels like it’s expected from him to watch this.

He sees Jiseok’s hands hugging your thighs as the sounds from his mouth devouring your pussy fill the silence of the deserted park. They’re so lewd and alluring. Just like the soft moans, spilling from your lips that cause his boner to grow.

Jiseok detaches from your folds, groaning from how turned on he is. The lollipop in his fingers appears closer until it bumps into your swollen clit.

“So sweet, doll.” He whispers in a raspier tone, tapping a few times with the head of the lolly. “I knew it.”

You feel him dragging the ball down your folds. The built up arousal is so much, the slickness makes it easy for half of it to slip inside your entrance with ease.

“Fuck, got you so wet for me.” Jiseok moves his dark gaze on your scrunched face, wanting to see your next expression when he pushes the rest of the lollipop into your cunt.

He smirks provocatively once you mewl with pleasure, letting him move it back and forth.

“What a needy girl,” he grunts, pulling it out slowly, “gonna cum from a fuckin’ lollipop.”

He hands you the candy all covered in your essence as soon as you rise up in a sitting position.

This is when the realisation that Hyeongjun saw everything hits you. You also just now notice there’s a new song quietly playing from his phone which apparently has his full attention, or that’s how he’s trying to make it seem.

Jiseok gives you an encouraging nod, his cocky expression with a hint of mischief tells you his imagination is running wild. He has something on his mind, and he’s excited to see you’re thinking of the same thing.

“Hyeongjun.”

Jiseok’s friend looks up at you questionably, and your lips turn up to make him feel less flustered.

“Do you want to try the lollipop too?” You ask.

He asks in return if it’s okay with you, and you respond by moving closer to him.

You guide it towards his lips and he separates them like by a command. You maintain the eye contact as you invite the sugary flavour on his tongue, but once he wraps his seductive lips around the ball which looks too erotic to you for some reason, you couldn’t control your eyes anymore. They move from his lustful eyes and remain on his mouth to watch how he sneaks out his tongue, swiping it along his lips after you pull out the lollipop.

He swallows the sweetness, and you gulp right after him - solely from the urge to kiss him. There’s a desire to find out how his lips would feel that bubbles up inside you.

“You can taste the cherry even better from her.” Jiseok calls out as if he has just read your mind.

You lean in and Hyeongjun does the same simultaneously moving his hand at the back of your neck. After your lips connect, your body flutters from an electric wave once again, but a different type - much more tender and lightweight than the one coming from Jiseok’s lips. Hyeongjun moves passionately as well, but in a graceful way like he’s worried not to get too caught up and make you fall apart, while Jiseok kisses without restraints, like seeing you fall apart is exactly what he wants.

You open your eyes and see the tip of Hyeongjun’s tongue out, not able to get enough of you yet. You gently close your lips around it, holding his neck with your two hands while his roam around your thighs underneath your skirt.

Every flinch he makes with his muscles, every breath he lets out, is as if he’s on slow motion. He wants this to last for as long as possible.

Your heart races as you suck on his wet tongue meanwhile your chin gets wet from a trail of saliva that Hyeongjun licks off after you unwrap your lips.

His hands leave your body - the opposite of his needs, - allowing Jiseok’s to grip on your hips from behind. He gets a hold of you again with an even bigger hunger that unlocks something primer in him from seeing you in this new light. So different and nasty from how your usual pure self is.

Seems like he’s not the only one who’s changed in the past three years.

“Are you having fun driving us crazy like this?” He tilts your head, running his tongue up to your ear.

Every time he touches you slightly you get the urge to moan pathetically, so you bite your lip to avoid it, at least for now.

Hyeongjun watches Jiseok peppering your skin with kisses while his fingertips make the thin straps of your dress slip off your shoulders.

“Not even wearing a bra?”Jiseok notes amused, squeezing your breasts. His erection turns more impatient as your nipples harden on the instant from the breeze. “Come here.”

Jiseok stands up, unbuckling his belt. Soon enough, his pants are open enough to free his cock, and you kneel in front of him while facing Hyeongjun who leans back against the tree; watching you take his friend from behind.

At first you couldn’t focus on Hyeongjun for a while. Feeling Jiseok sinking into you wraps your brain into a fog, unabling you to think or do anything else besides focusing entirely on his thick length going deeper and deeper.

Jiseok digs fingers in your hips while picking up a steady pace which has your moans elevating in the silence.

He shushes you to stay quiet, but his body speeds up.

“You don’t want to get caught fuckin’ in the park, right pretty doll?”

“More, please…” you whine in response finally able to take a peek at your surroundings illuminated by the moonlight. “Please…”

“Only if you don’t make a sound.” Jiseok warns you before slowing down his thrusts.

You nod obediently not letting Hyeongjun out of sight. Jiseok notices your fixed attention on him, and finds it quite intriguing.

He makes you lean back by pulling on your small scrunched dress. The fabric exposes your entire body besides just a small part of your waist. He humms quietly once you begin to move up and down his cock on your own, squeezing him perfectly with your tight walls while your nails stab his thighs as you support yourself.

“Tell me what else do you want, baby.” Jiseok runs his hands on your bare shoulders. His deep voice covers you in goosebumps.

You blink at Hyeongjun while the pleasure floods your veins.

“I… I want him to feel good too.”

“So sweet,” he coos, praising you with knuckles caressing your warm cheek. “You heard her.”

Hyeongjun doesn’t hesitate.

He unzips his jeans and the sound is enough to make your heart skip a beat from excitement. Your eyes widen in the distance, following the rushed movement of his hands.

When his slim fingers grip his shaft he starts tugging in a slow pace, imagining that the pressure around him comes from your gummy walls; that the smacking sounds from skin clashing against skin is because he’s the one kneeling behind you.

You’re bouncing on his dick; you’re making him throb and leak with desperation.

“C’mon, doll, don’t get distracted.” Jiseok speaks in a gentle manner, but you notice the slight tone of frustration hidden underneath. “Take it, c’mon.. fuck.”

He doesn’t wait for you to change your pace though, instead he decides to take matters into his own hands. He grabs your lower waist and starts thrusting against the desired spot rapidly; uncontrollably, like he doesn’t plan on ever stopping. Due to the insane amount of pleasure that shoots his core, his head falls back and his eyes roll at the back of his skull.

A warm knot forms in both of your bodies, so close to snapping, as sweat collects on different parts of your skin. It’s gliding down your forehead, neck, chest, your inner thighs along with the spilling fluids from your cunt.

Hyeongjun’s eyes are leveled with your boobs that shake every time Jiseok shoves his cock through you. As his lips open from another small moan, yours close, tucked between your teeth.

“Fuck, you feel so good… so tight and wet.”

And Hyeongjun can almost feel it too. If he keeps his eyes shut and just focus on your panting and the squelching coming from between your legs, he can really feel it. His fist speeds up, building up the intense heat inside as you whimper that you’re about to cum.

“Let it out, baby,” Jiseok grunts, his own voice shaking too. “That’s it, cum for me, good girl.”

He covers your mouth with force while his spare arm stays around you, wanting to keep his cock gliding sloppily till the climax shakes you up.

The thrill is staggering; it makes your body convulse in Jiseok’s embrace as you hold onto the arm that keeps you silent. A few muffled cries sneak out from his palm which are enough to push Hyeongjun over the edge. His cum spills all over his naked stomach in hot thick ropes and he manages to stay quiet till the end in comparison to Jiseok whose throat releases a deep groan after he jerks off, spraying your back with fluids.

Once Jiseok gives your ass a playful smack you let yourself collapse silently on your tummy.

The three of you wait for your breaths to return back to normal in the shared silence. For your surprise, it's not awkward nor perplexing. You let the minutes pass comfortably while the night summer wind finally turns colder, helping your bodies cool off.

The moon shines bright and you meet Hyeongjun’s eyes as he rests on your left side.

He smiles at you.

You smile back.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

[sinsirellaxx]

hii could you do toxic Matteo (or all the boys) and they get mad and really aggressive so they guilt trip the reader basically saying it’s there fault and that they have help him😭? Do you get what I mean

This mess is your fault

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Warning: Toxic relationship

A/N: Hi, I hope I got it right – if not, just send me another request. 🙈

Enjoy!

The first few months of your relationship Mattheo had been nothing but sweet – he was cheeky and such a tease, yes … but he would never treat you poorly. You were the love of his life after all. That what he always told you.

There were a few curious incidents that sent a wave of nausea through you whenever you thought of them, but you couldn’t tell whether those incidents were justified or not – you had never been in a relationship before and had nothing to compare. Mattheo had acted out of boyfriendly-duty, right?

Thankfully, those incidents had been rare and predominated by your otherwise bubbly and cheesy boyfriend. The biggest change you had seen in your boyfriend, however, was after your first time with him: It had been on your first anniversary – you had wanted to wait, and he had been respectful of your wishes. Mattheo had been careful with you, constantly watching out for you and asking if everything was alright. That night you had been sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. That he was the right one. But soon after, he had grown more possessive – demanding to control everything you did and supervising most of your conversations with others.

At first, you hadn’t thought anything of it – the new, more aggressive Mattheo had sent butterflies through your stomach, leaving you feeling giddy and excited. The thought of him being jealous and possessive seemed more … romantic. At least, that was what you had told yourself.

But when he started going through your dresser, throwing everything he deemed inappropriate onto one pile – even your favorite pieces – you lost it.

“What the hell do you think you are doing, Matty?!” You gasped as you ran to him, pulling on his right arm to move him away from your dresser. Mattheo didn’t budge, roughly pushing you away with the arm you held onto, causing you to trip over your feet and fall down with a yelp. He had never laid a hand on your before – the spot on your chest hurt from the way he had pushed you with his elbow.

“I’m cleaning your dresser, what else could I be doing?” He spat, not fazed that he had just pushed you to the floor. Your eyes widened at his tone, your heart beating faster as the memories of every weird incident rushed over you, alarm bells ringing in your head. No, please no. You told yourself, trying to calm yourself. Mattheo was still your Matty, right? Taking in a deep breath, you slowly stood up, “No, Mattheo. I can see that. But why? I don’t want you to do that, so stop it.”

“And not just that, I want you to stop reading through my messages and – I have the feeling tthat you are trying to control and manipulate me all the time.”

At this Mattheo stopped, his shoulders tensed as he let his head hang down, hands resting on the wardrobe rail. He chuckled lowly, before pushing himself away from the remaining clothing. “It’s funny how you think you have a say in any of this, but I have to admit, you are smarter than I thought, love.” Turning around to face you he took a few steps towards you, his eyes dangerously narrow – the dangerous glint in them causing you to take a step back whenever he took one towards you. “You are mine now. You do as I say. If I don’t want you to dress like that, you don’t. If I want to throw away your clothes, I will. If I don’t want, you to talk to your friends then you will just have to accept it.” Mattheo smiled widely at you; his head tilted to the side.

When the back of your legs finally hit your bed, you were forced to stop, holding your breath when his hand came to cup your cheek.

“Do you understand, love?” He whispered against your lips. “And really, this is all just your fault – you made me like this. You have been neglecting our relationship, trying to draw the attention of other people to you. I have to protect you.” Pressing a feather like kiss onto your slightly parted lips he took a step back.

"This mess is your fault."

[kitchenisking]

Day 4

Seires Fic Rec part 14

Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis - (Queer Your Coffee) - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,084, sterek)

Derek's just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.

For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.

Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he's worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.

He's the most beautiful man Derek's ever seen.

And he’s shirtless.

It's a Beautiful Night by khasael - (Hale and Hearty) - (Rating: T, Words: 2,887, sterek)

Just because they're all almost used to fighting against the Creature of the Week and assorted other Bad Guys, doesn't mean it doesn't get Stiles's heart rate going.

Dream a Little Dream by Yoiko - (A Little Dream of Me ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,101, sterek)

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. And since this is my dream you’re going to let me do it.”

All things share the same breath - the beast, the tree, the man. by devilscut - (There are nights when the wolves are silent and the moon howls.) - (Rating: Mature, Words: 11,687, sterek)

A shell-shocked Stiles regroups with the pack to find his father who has been kidnapped by the Darach. Their search leads them to the Nematon, where their confrontation with the Darach reveals her plans and that there is more to being a True Alpha than they know. Derek and his family's legacy is at the heart of her schemes and when the Darach has him under her control Stiles begins to realise the extent of how much he really cares for the sourwolf. In true Scooby-doo fashion, the villain has told them of her plans but more shockingly to Stiles she also reveals a very important aspect of his and Derek's relationship.

The virtue of patience by nofeartina - (Patience) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,827, sterek)

Stiles isn't afraid of admitting his feelings to Derek, but that doesn't mean that Derek wants to hear it. 

Or the one where Stiles knows that all good things come to those who wait.

I Feel Like You Can't Feel the Way I Feel by i_might_be_in_over_my_head - ( Einherjar MC ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,087, sterek)

“Fuckin A, dude! The last time you gave me that look I ended up in the woods in the middle of the night, lost my inhaler, and almost died. Please tell me why you’re always trying to get me killed?” Scott shook his head resigned. He knew Stiles was going in and nothing he could say would change that. “If we wake up dead tomorrow just remember this was your idea.”

Stiles threw his fist in the air enthusiastically, almost punching Scott in the face, and turned to the door. He knew if he didn’t go quick Scott would probably change his mind and he’d have to start all over. “Dude that was sophomore year of high school, let it go! Plus dead body! We had to go. We’ll just have a drink and check it out. It’ll be fun!”

fingertips have memories by thatworldinverted - (let's talk about sex ) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,800, sterek)

Pochemuchka (Russian), noun: a person who asks a lot of questions. 

"I saw the way you watched me, when I was home last month. How long have you been dreaming about getting me on my knees?"

seems to me it's chemistry by HalfFizzbin - (covalent bonds) - (Rating: T, Words: 4,153, sterek)

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.

These next two fics go hand in hand. 😇

The One with All the Kids by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 6,527, sterek)

Derek didn't know what he did to deserve to have this again. A house full of people, of family. He's going to be forever grateful to that rouge witch for what she did for him and Stiles, because after all the hurt they went through together, many years later, they're standing in the Pack house, in their house, surrounded by their family.

A New Hale by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: G, Words: 4,543, sterek)

The Pack meets the werewolf cub that Stiles and Derek gets placed with them on Christmas.

[ivonhart]

a lil teaser for my nanami x fem gojo!reader part 1 to see if ya’ll are liking it so far

if ya’ll want me to continue writing this just know this mf is gonna be LONG - probably my longest post yet

please note that this is not proof read yet so ignore any possible mistakes🧍

if you have any ideas or suggestions please don’t hesitate to comment because this is my first time writing for jjk and it’s characters (if I remember correctly when Satoru was young that mf was a butthole to “weak” people so he’s gonna be a lil bit of a dick sometimes in the flashbacks btw)

enjoy 🔥🔥

-

The day Satoru Gojo was born became a day that would be celebrated for centuries to come in the Jujutsu world. The child born with both the Limitless and Six Eyes was revered almost as if he was a god within the Gojo clan due to the fact it has not happened in over four hundred years. So, when the mother of Satoru claimed to be with child a year later, the expectations were set to the heavens.

Throughout the months, as the mother’s belly grew in size, whispers of what the child would possess filled the halls of the estate. Perhaps, they too, would be blessed with the Limitless and Six Eyes. Two children with the abilities would be a revelation to the world for it had never happened before. But, the moment you opened your eyes it was clear you were…nothing.

You held no ounce of cursed energy and the joy of Satoru’s birth was quickly tainted by yours. And your childhood would hold no good memories to reflect on. Nor any good relationships with those in your clan. Now, you found yourself staring at the entrance to Jujutsu High. Although you lacked cursed energy, your father would never allow you to live a normal life.

“Despite the fact you hold no cursed energy, I will not allow you to be anything other than a sourcer. I don’t care if they make you fight them blind, you will not be anything else.” You weren’t sure why he made you take this path. Maybe he could take credit if you do manage to survive into adulthood. The first sourcer with no cursed energy coming from the Gojo clan would solidify just how strong they were. Or maybe he just sent you here to die. With a sharp inhale you pulled your shoulders back, latched your hands together against your tailbone and walked into the campus.

You were introduced to the two other first-year students after being led to the main building for the start of the tour. The first boy was named Yu Haibara. You took note of his overwhelmingly positive demeanor as he introduced himself. His wide eyes sparkled with a thousand stars and a smile that was almost as bright as the sun. He was so positive, in fact, that it made you uneasy. Never in all your life had you been on the receiving end of such sheer excitement and interest in you and what you did. “Enough, Haibara. You are making her uncomfortable.”

Those were the first words you heard come from the second boy’s mouth since being here. He was somewhat lanky in comparison with blond hair that dropped down his face. After his comment, Haibara was quick to apologize which earned him a simple hum from you. “And you are?”

You asked towards the blond. “Kento Nanami.” You nodded slightly before saying your first name. Haibara’s eyebrow raised. “That doesn’t sound like your surname.” Nanami watched as you stared at him with an almost emotionless expression. Since he first laid his eyes on you he took note at how rigid you presented yourself.

Like if one hair was out of place on your head something bad would happen. And your outfit…despite the heat that hung in the air you were showing no skin aside from your head and hair. Your shirt reaching to the bottom of your chin and your hands covered with gloves with solid tights covering your legs. Everything about you intrigued him.

He didn’t tear his eyes away from you when the second-year students entered the room, resulting in him catching the way your shoulders tensed up. “WELCOME LIL’ SIS!” Haibara’s eyes almost popped out of his head at the sight of Satoru Gojo. Little sister? Was all that ran through Nanami’s mind as he kept an unwavering eye on you. “Wait!” Haibara’s snap towards you. “YOU’RE A GOJO?!” You clenched your jaw…hard at the sight of the white-haired boy.

It was inevitable that you would cross paths with him, but you didn’t think so soon. Satoru sauntered over to you with a black-haired boy and brown-haired girl not far behind before throwing his freakishly long arm across your shoulders. “Suguru. Shoko. This is my little sister.” Ever since Satoru entered his teenage years he decided he only wanted to address you like that. You believed it was just something he would do to get underneath Father’s skin, because you knew Father never allowed him to call you his sister.

You didn’t bother to look at Satoru’s friends as you stepped out from his hold with a sneer. “Don’t call me that.” You bit back in a harsh whisper. Though, you knew the others heard because suddenly the room was filled with a suffocating tension. With a sharp huff and dismissive wave towards Haibara who got close you retreated towards Nanami. As you came closer, the boy noted how your demeanor completely shifted. Your once straight shoulders were slumped in on themselves and your head hung low. As if you were trying to disappear into yourself.

-

The tour went by in a blur and it wasn’t long until you found yourself silently walking alongside Shoko Ieiri towards the girl dorms. She wasn’t like Satoru, she was quiet, but not in the way Suguru Geto was. Not a shy quiet…just a nonchalant quiet. “Soooo…” Shoko’s drawn out ‘o’ echoed throughout the hallway. “Sato–” “Don’t.” Your tone was sharp as you snapped at the upperclassmen. A small smile tugged at her mouth before she responded.

“I don’t think that’s a very appropriate way to speak to your upperclassmen.” She almost regretted the joke she made as she looked back at you. Your eyes were hard as stone, filled with pure hatred at the sheer idea of Satoru Gojo. A sneer pulled at your lips as you clenched your fist together. Truth be told, Shoko was always curious about the younger Gojo.

Satoru would mention you from time to time, but only to drag you down in order to boast about his own powers. “I still can’t believe my father is sending my little sister here. She’s such a weakling! She doesn’t even have cursed energy.” Shoko remembered how he laughed with such glee at your expense. She could only imagine how it was like for you when he still lived at the estate. It was no wonder why you held such hostility towards him. Shoko didn’t need to see much to pick that observation up.

“Just show me to my room and leave me the hell alone.” With a small hum, the girl turned on her heel and resumed walking down the hall. You almost pushed Shoko over to get into your room and without as much as a ‘thank you’ you slammed the door shut. You could feel your chest grow tight with the need to cry. Seeing Satoru after so long brought back memories you wished you could forget.

-

“‘Toruuu, where are we going?” You asked through laughs of glee at the idea of spending time with your older brother. You never saw him much in between your training and you rarely had chances to talk with him. So, when he came into your room and began dragging you, claiming he had a “surprise” you couldn’t fight the joy that filled you. “You’ll see.” You didn’t know at the time that his smile wasn’t one of happiness and his laughs weren’t fueled by joy. He pulled you all the way to an abandoned house within the forest some ways away from your home. “I found this old house.” His sparkling blue eyes shot around the living room as you entered with a cheek-splitting smile. “I thought we could…make it into a little hang out area.” You felt your heart swell at the idea of spending more time with your brother and with quick nods you agreed. “That sounds so fun, big brother!” He turned to you with a large grin. “So, to get started I need you to get something from the cellar out back. The previous owner left some cool stuff that I’d like to use to decorate this place.” Without any fuss you turned tail and raced out towards the cellar. You had no reason to trust your big brother and you wished nothing more than to make him happy. Quickly, you opened the cellar doors but you couldn’t help but hesitate at the unease it sent through your body. The air that came from inside was hot and stuffy, and there was no light at all…but you wanted to make Toru happy. You wanted to make this place your hideaway. So, with a deep breath you descended the stairs in search of a light. BANG! A yelp escaped your mouth at the sound and sudden darkness. Someone closed the cellar doors. “Toru?” You slowly turned around and with your hands in front of you you began walking. “Toru? The door closed!” “Yeah, and it’s staying closed.” His tone took a complete 180. Before you spoke with enthusiasm, but now his words dripped in hatred. “W-What do you mean? Toru, I’m getting scared.” At this point you felt your heart rate speed up and your body heat to spike. You could already feel sweat run down the back of your neck. “You’re nothing but a weakling and I hate weaklings!” Your shin hit the first step up towards the door as you began to cry. Unfortunately for you, your heightened emotions manifested itself into something you had yet to learn existed. And the very first time you ever felt one touch you was when it sank its large claws into your stomach, causing you to let out a blood curdling scream within the darkness of the cellar.

-

hope this peaks someone interest

[munson-blurbs]

Hey, I love your writing so much! If you’re taking requests I’d like a short fic about reader mourning the loss of their dog? I just lost my girl Sasha and would like a comfort fic , Eddie or Steve, either is cool with me- phantom

Hi, love 💚 I'm so sorry to hear about your loss, and I hope this fic helps you through the grieving process. I went with Eddie for this one.

TW: death, loss of a pet, grief CW: 690

--

It feels like it should be raining. 

The sun hangs high in the sky, a gentle breeze blowing every so often. The weather gives no indication of any impending storm, not even a hint of gray in the white clouds. But to you, there’s a darkness that even the brightest light can’t repair. 

There will be no more wagging tail and excited barking to greet you when you come home. The realization cleaves your heart clean in half. 

Tears burn at your eyes and you let them fall, sliding down your cheeks and plopping unceremoniously onto the concrete stoop beneath you. 

“Hey.”

You look up and see Eddie standing in front of you, a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of daisies in his grasp. 

“Hi.”

The wrapping crinkles under his fingers as he sits beside you. He scoots close enough so you can rest your head on his shoulder. An ugly sob escapes you in a dramatic heave, but he refrains from commenting. In fact, he doesn’t say anything at all. 

You bask in the comforting silence, no expectations to talk or bare your feelings. Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead and sighs. 

“Can I say something?” He asks, and for the first time, you notice that he’s been crying, too. When you nod, he softly says, “She was a really good dog. The best, actually.”

“Mhm.” You don’t dare open your mouth for fear of starting up the waterworks again. 

“I keep thinking about the time I brought over burgers from Benny’s,” he continues, “and I left them on the counter for two seconds, and she tore into them.”

You scoff lightly. “It was more than two seconds.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t time it or anything. But it was fast. Like, lightning speed.” He taps his toe, knee brushing against the flower stems. “These are for you, by the way.”

Taking the daisies from him, you hold them to your nose and inhale. Fresh, new, alive. The juxtaposition has your chin wobbling embarrassingly. “Th-Thanks, Eds.”

Another pause, then: “Y’know, I lost a pet once, too.”

You swivel around, eyebrows pinched together. “I didn’t know Wayne let you have a pet.”

“He didn’t. I had to keep it a secret.”

“How did you manage to keep a dog a secret?” It’s not as though he and his uncle lived in a mansion; the tiniest Chihuahua could be easily spotted in their trailer. 

Eddie grins. “Who said anything about a dog?”

“A cat?”

He shook his head, giving the same response for your guesses of rabbit, lizard, and bird. 

“Do I even wanna know?”

He presses a hand to his heart in feigned offense. “I can’t believe you don’t remember Ant-chovy.”

You burst out laughing despite the weighty grief bogging you down. “Are you seriously comparing the death of my dog to the death of an ant?”

“He was my friend!” Eddie retorts. “And he was murdered right before my very eyes!”

You knock your shoulder into his with a playful shove. “Weren’t you the one who stepped on him?”

He scowls and plucks the bouquet from your hands. “I bring you flowers in your time of need, and you mock me?”

A smile tugs at your lips. “My deepest apologies. And my condolences for the loss of your dear friend, Ant-chovy. Who certainly was not an ant and who you definitely knew for more than five minutes.”

“Thank you.” Eddie gives you back the daisies; this time, he leans his head on your shoulder. “You’re gonna get through this.”

“Feels like I’ll be sad forever.”

He nods. “I know. But you won’t be. And I’m not going anywhere until you tell me to fuck off.”

You take a deep breath. “Is it okay if we talk a little bit about her? Like, share memories of her? Just for a little bit?”

“Course it’s okay.” Eddie smiles, coaxing the emotions from you without even trying. “You wanna go first?”

You do. With each word, the sunshine doesn’t sting quite as harshly; the blue sky seems less out of place. And should the rain start to fall, you will always find shelter in Eddie. 

--

[hundrethdigitofpi-blog]

What Could Go Wrong?

“You said one person, right?”

“Fair is fair Chat. I told my secret to a friend, and I’d rather you told a confidant directly rather than it slipping out in a moment of weakness.” Ladybug appeared to shudder at a memory. “I’ll trust your judgement as long as you trust them”

“I do.” He said with conviction.

Adrien had initially thought of Nino. His bro. His ride or die. Heck, he was the one who *taught* him the term ride or die.

But as much as he cared for his best bud, Nino didn’t exactly have the best track record for keeping secrets, especially from his girlfriend. And somehow Adrien had trouble picturing the Ladyblogger having discretion when it came to superhero matters. Leaving just one person….

“I’ll be transparent LB” he said, leaning against the roof chimney. “While I trust them, there have been times when we haven’t gotten along. Like when I started school for the first time.” Adrien shook his head at the memory, and mentally congratulated himself on how much he had grown since that first day out of his bubble. “I’ve even wonder at times if I somehow offended this person or done something wrong because they would seem to avoid me on purpose.”

Ladybug nodded along sympathetically.

“But other times, they’ve really been there to comforted me and support me. I know they care, even if they have an - er - strange way of expressing it…” he trailed off before meeting ladybug’s eyes again.

“I just” he exhaled, “I just want to be closer to them, and if sharing this secret helps break down those barriers, it’s worth it to me.”

Ladybug’s eyes softened as she cracked a smile. “This person sounds very special.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

“Then you have my blessing Chat”

Adrien beamed.

“Well in that case m’Ladybug, is it alright if I leave patrol early? I don’t want this to wait any longer”

A laugh from Ladybug, “Yes! Chat go! and I really hope this person is able to give you all the support you deserve.”

“He will!” Chat called back, already a rooftop away, not wanting to delay a second longer from sharing his secret with his father.

[sequinsmile-x]

The Games We Play - Chapter 4

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.

She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 

A Hunger Games AU

-x-

Hi friends,

Well, here we are - the final chapter of the most insane fic idea I've had yet. Thanks for all the love on this silly little AU it really means the world.

Please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world <3

-x-

Words: 3.6k

A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He grunts as the knife enters his chest again, the pain barely there, not matching up with what he thinks it should feel like. He looks up at George, at the crazed look in his eyes, and he knows this is it, that he’d got so close to surviving, so close to fulfilling his promise to Emily, and he’d fallen at the last hurdle.

Emily. 

He thinks of her smile, of the way she’d laugh just when he needed to hear it. He thinks of her beauty, not diminished by what she’d survived but enhanced, her endless strength making her impossibly more gorgeous. 

He had to make it back to her. 

He growls, an animalistic sound escaping him as he surges forward, taking George by surprise as he flips them, the knife scattering out of the other man's hand as he gets the advantage. He hits him, his fists aching and splitting open as he carries on, not stopping as he feels bones crack beneath his knuckles.

He carries on, all the anger he’d ever felt surging through him. Anger at his father. At himself. At the world he found himself living in. 

He only stops when he physically can’t do it anymore, his arms giving out from under him as he collapses off of George, who was eerily still, his eyes, one of the only recognisable parts of his face left, staring straight ahead.

Aaron collapses, his head swimming as blood loss catches up with him, his eyes drifting shut as he hears a canon crack in the air around him.

___

He sucks in a panicked breath, his eyes flying open as he looks around him, his body heavy as he tries and fails to sit up.

“Aaron.”

His head snaps to his left, his eyes wide and wild as he looks at Emily, a mix of relief and disbelief painted across her face, “Emily?”

“It’s okay,” she says, still in her seat, seemingly glued to it as she looks him over, her shoulders tight, “You’re okay. You’re in the private wing of the hospital,” she says, looking around them, “I shouldn’t even be here,” she flashes him a quick smile, “Dave can talk anyone into anything.” 

He nods, taking in his surroundings a little more now the panic has passed. Everything looked opulent, expensive in a way he never would have been able to imagine before he came to the Capitol. He looks past the open door to his room and sees the nurse sitting at a computer and typing, the clack of the keys clear even from where he is lying in his bed. 

“My hearing,” he says, placing his hand over his right ear, “It’s back. After the explosion with Kate…I could barely hear.”

“They restored it for you,” she explains, her smile tight as she sits up straighter in the chair next to his bed, “Nothing but the best for their victor.” 

He nods, blinking heavily a few times before shaking his head, trying to dispel the sleepiness that threatened to overtake him, “What else?” 

“You have a fair number of scars on your chest,” she says, her eyes fixed on his gown as if she could see his damaged skin through it, “And on your knuckles from where you…” she presses her lips together, the memory of the sound of George’s face giving way under his fists sending a shiver down her spine, “They can get rid of the scars too if you want to. Some people keep them.” 

“Did you keep yours?” 

His question takes her by surprise, and for a moment she forgot he didn’t know, that in all the nights they shared a bed he’d never seen her without her clothes on, had never seen the constellation of scar tissue that spread across her abdomen. Pink lines and creases that had faded to white, skin that was still numb to the touch and likely always would be. 

“Yes,” she says, subconsciously placing her hand over the scar through her shirt, “I kept it.” 

He stores the information away for later, not wanting to pry now, but he thinks he’ll make the same decision, not wanting to lose the evidence of what he’d survived. 

“What else happened?” He asks, and she frowns, her eyebrows knitting together as she tilts her head and he smiles softly, “You looked like you saw a ghost when I woke up.” 

She wonders how she should feel about the fact he can read her so easily, that, despite everything, they’d seemingly picked back up right where they left off when she’d been reaped for her own games and her life had changed forever. She thinks she should hate it, but she doesn’t. She likes that he knows her like that, that he understands her. 

It had been so long since she’d felt known. 

“Your…” she clears her throat, her teeth clenched as she tries to breathe through the emotion threatening to overwhelm her, “Your heart stopped when they got you out,” her voice shakes a little, “You were dead for almost a minute until they brought you back.” 

He frowns and places his hand against his chest, his ribs aching, his entire body on fire from pain that the medication in his system barely dulled, “They brought me back?” 

She chokes out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she nods, “Yeah, they brought you back.” 

“Why?”

His question surprises her, makes her breath catch in her chest as she looks down at her hands, her torn up cuticles something she can focus on instead of him, “Because they need a winner,” she whispers, “None of this works if they don’t have a winner and George died in the arena. So you’re their winner.” 

He stares at her, his focus on the way she absolutely avoids looking at him. He can’t help but wonder how she felt when she was in his place. When she was laying in a bed, stitched back together after barely surviving the unthinkable, alone and wondering what came next. He feels selfishly grateful that he has her, that she can guide him through this next part. 

“So,” he says, offering her a half smile when she looks at him, “Looks like I’ll be able to take you on a date after all,” he jokes, wanting nothing more than to lighten the mood, to feel anything other than despair for the first time since his brother’s name was called during the reaping. 

She scoffs, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest, Dave’s words from just a few days ago weighing heavily on her chest, “I wish it was that simple.” 

He frowns at her, lifting his hand from his bed and offering it out to her, grateful when she stands and takes it without any further prompting, as if she was magnetised to him, moving against her will, “What do you mean?” 

She isn’t sure how to put it into words. She wanted him, wanted whatever sense of happiness was possible in the reality they lived in, but she knew there would be a cost. She’d always known that, it’s why she’d cut him out of her life until he volunteered for his brother, fate intervening and putting them back firmly in each other's paths. She sighs as she sits on the edge of his bed, his warmth even with the small amount of distance between them intoxicating.

“There will be expectations of us,” she says, her chest hollowed out, aching and empty, ready for the heartbreak she can already feel, the heartbreak she’d endure for the rest of her life if it was what he chooses. She reaches out to push some of his hair out of his face, the strands longer than they usually would be, unkempt from his time in the arena, her fingers ghosting across his forehead. “If we do this. Our life won’t necessarily be our own.” 

He catches her hand as she pulls it away from his face, linking their fingers together and squeezing, desperate to keep her close, “What do you mean?”

She looks over her shoulder to make sure they are alone, to check the nurse who was assigned to him wasn’t in earshot. She’d learnt a long time ago that no one could be trusted, that even those who seemed to be her friends here would give away her secrets for free. The only person she did trust, other than Aaron, was Dave. He’d never lied to her, never been anything other than almost painfully honest, their shared burden of what they did year after year something that had bonded them in a way she’s sure she’d collapse without. She leans in and makes sure she talks quietly, her voice low so only he hears her. 

“We’ll get married,” she says, a smile flitting across her face at the treacherous hope that flashes in his eyes, something that even what he’d just been through couldn’t kill. She liked to think that would one day be the country’s downfall - the hope that existed between them all no matter what they had done to them. Hope that planted seeds and bloomed even in the darkest of circumstances, its flowers too bright and beautiful to be ignored, “And we won’t…there won’t be a lot of choice,” she says, hoping he’d understand, that he wouldn’t make her say it, “We would be expected to do our duty as victors.” 

It’s the desperate look in her eyes that makes it click for him. He thinks of their conversation on the train, the way they’d casually agreed children weren’t on the cards for either of them as they drank liquor he’s sure cost more than his parent’s house. It was a moment in time, something that had led him back to her, his volunteering for his brother a crossroads in his life that had changed everything. A decision that, in the grand scheme of things, hadn’t been that long ago but may as well have happened to a different person. 

“Oh,” he says, feeling her hand go slack in his, her expression tight as she starts to pull away, taking his silence and lack of a reaction as confirmation he would change his mind. He holds her hand even tighter, and feels her bones pop against each other, “Well, if there was anyone I’d want to do any of that with, it would be you.” 

She scoffs, disbelief catching on every rib as it forces its way out, “Aaron, it’s not that simple,” she says, looking down at their joint hands, his tanned skin from the artificial sun in the arena making hers look even paler than usual, “We’d have to have children. If we didn’t Barnes would punish us, our families.” 

“Em-”

She carries on as if he hasn’t spoken, as if she can’t hear him. All of the fears she’d pushed down for years finally burst to the surface, escaping from the box she’d hidden them in because he’d knocked it over, his love and kindness tearing her defences to pieces. 

“And as much as I always said I don’t want children, I’d love them. I’d love them so much and then having to send them off to the arena when they turn 12-” she’s cut off as he sits up, groaning at the pain that spreads through his chest, his entire body burning from the points where Foyet had stabbed him, “What are you doing? You’re hurt.” 

“I’m trying to hug you,” he says through gritted teeth as she lowers him back down to the bed, her hands firm on his shoulders as she raises an eyebrow at him in disbelief. He breathes through the pain for a moment and then rests his hands on her hips, “Em, I understand what you’re saying,” he says, encouraging her closer, her face close enough that he can feel her breath skipping across his skin, “I know it won’t be easy, but even if we had a kid tomorrow, 12 years is a long time. You never know what could happen.” 

She huffs out a laugh and presses her forehead against his, “You think the world is going to change enough between now and then to mean we’d be safe.” 

“I think you haven’t even kissed me yet,” he says, his hand on her back, his palm splayed so his fingers sneak under the hem of her shirt, smiling softly as she shivers as his heated skin touches hers, “Everything else will happen as it happens.” 

She thinks she should hate him for being so sure, for the hint of optimism she knew time would kill over the next few years, but she can’t bring herself to. Instead, she allows herself to feel the relief that she’d been holding off since she’d arrived at the hospital. It fills her lungs, her chest fully expanding for the first time since she’d last seen him before he went into the arena, and she shakes her head, pressing her forehead against his for a moment before she pulls back, her smile fond as their eyes meet. 

She leans in and presses her lips against his, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place, as if he’d rather be anywhere else even if he had the strength to move. It’s everything she’d ever imagined it to be and more as he pulls her closer, his hand insistent on her back as his other one finds its way into her hair, anchoring her to him. He tastes of the sugary medicinal drink she’d been made to have when she first woke up when she won the games, a boost she’d never known the name of, a hint of something she knew must just be him lingering underneath. 

He sighs contentedly as she sinks into him, her tongue running across the seam of his lips before he opens his mouth. He’d thought about this moment for so long that it didn’t feel real, almost too good to be true. For a moment he wonders if he really did die in the arena, if this was the last thing his subconscious was doing for him, a moment of heaven before he slipped into darkness. 

He knows it’s real the moment she pulls back, a concerned look on her face as he groans in pain, the two of them having got carried away as he pulls her tight to his chest, the pain reverberating throughout his body. 

“Sorry,” she says, her hand slipping from his cheek to his throat, the reassuring thump of his pulse against her skin calming her down. 

“Never apologise for kissing me,” he replies, encouraging her back in for another kiss, a quick thing stamped against her lips, “But we might have to wait a little while for our date.”

She smiles and nods, resting her forehead against his, taking a moment to breathe him in, “I should get going anyway. Let you rest.”

He shakes his head, “No, stay.”

“Aaron-”

“Please,” he says, wincing as he tries to shift in the bed, making room for her to slide in next to him, “I want you to stay.” 

She hesitates, not sure what people would say or think if they found her in his bed, but she realises she doesn’t care. For the first time in years, she doesn’t think about anyone other than herself and she nods, slipping off her shoes before she carefully slips into bed with him, her head on his shoulder as she snuggles into his side. A sense of peace she hadn’t felt since they’d last slept next to each other washes over her and she tilts her head to look up at him. 

“I love you,” she says, the words not seeming as heavy as they had on the rooftop the night before the games started. It was no longer something she’d only get to say to him once, no longer a rushed confession borne out of a misunderstanding. It was softer, impossibly more real.

Something she would say to him every day for the rest of her life. 

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing the top of her head, tightening his hold on her the best he can with his injuries, “And I’ll spend the rest of my life doing that the best way that I can.” 

___

At first, she’s not sure what wakes her up.

She’d never slept well on the train, not from the very first time she’d boarded it. It was eerily quiet given the speed they were travelling and it left her feeling uneasy, a stillness to it all that felt unnatural. 

She rolls onto her back and groans, rubbing her hands over her eyes as she considers going to watch the sunrise in the back carriage, and then she hears a moan next to her, drawing her attention to Aaron as he sleeps fitfully. As he thrashes in the bed, his fists clenched at his sides, she knows what woke her up and she sighs sadly. She sits up and turns on the light, folding her legs against her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she watches him, waiting for him to wake up. 

The first night he’d been back from the hospital, the same day he’d had his interview with Gideon, she’d tried to wake him up. She’d put her hands on his face and tried to pull him out of it, her words soft and reassuring as she eased him back to her. He’d grabbed her wrist, his grip tight around it, as he woke up, leaving a bruise that hadn’t quite faded yet. He hadn’t forgiven himself, had refused to sleep next to her again until she promised she wouldn’t try to wake him up again, and she hated how he sometimes looked at her. 

As if she had something to be afraid of when she was with him. 

It feels like an age passes before he wakes up, his chest filling quickly with a breath that’s clearly painful as he sits up, his eyes wild as he yells, his fists clenched so tightly she’s sure he could break the skin on his palms. 

“Aaron,” she says quietly, not wanting to startle him. He looks at her so quickly it must pull at his neck, his eyes still wide as they meet hers. She knows that look, she’s seen it on her own face in the small hours of the night as she splashed water on herself in the bathroom after a nightmare. He was in the arena, his mind playing tricks on him even though he was now as safe as he ever would be. “You’re okay. It’s a dream. We’re on the train home.” 

“Emily?” 

She smiles and nods, shifting closer to him as the fog in his eyes starts to lift. She reaches out and places her hand on his cheek, her heart twisting in her chest as he leans into it, seeking out the affection she always had waiting for him. 

“It’s me. I’m right here,” she assures him, shifting closer again until she’s in his lap, something in her stomach easing when he wraps his arms around her and holds her close, “I’m right here.” 

He sighs, his eyes drifting closed as he rests his forehead on her temple, taking the chance to breathe her in, to replace the blood he could still smell with the scent of her, “I’m sorry.” 

She pulls back and cups his cheek again, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

His eyes drift to her bruised wrist and guilt churns in his gut just like it had every day since he’d woken up to find his first wrapped tightly around it. He clenches his teeth and shakes his head, familiar anger he hadn’t been able to shift since the arena burning through him. 

“I don’t know how you can even look at me.” 

She frowns as he looks down, avoiding her eye contact. He barely lets go of her though, as if she was the only thing keeping him grounded, so she wraps her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” She asks, the moniker slipping free without her meaning it to, her focus on playing with the short hairs at the back of his head, providing comfort in any way she can. 

“I hurt you,” he says, his tone flat as he continues to stare at the wall, “I killed people, Em,” he finally pulls away to look at her, “I killed a guy with my bare hands.” 

“If you hadn’t, he would have killed you,” she reasons, an edge of desperation to her voice that she ignores, “And I’ve killed people too. It’s the only reason we’re both still here,” she smiles sadly, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “Does that make it hard for you to look at me?” 

He shakes his head immediately, his eyebrows furrowing as if the mere idea was ridiculous, “Of course not,” he says emphatically, “Never.” 

“Then it’s not going to make it hard for me to look at you,” she says, making a point of reaching for his hand, of smoothing her fingers over the still healing cuts on his knuckles, “We survived,” she looks up at him, making eye contact as she kisses his hand, soothes away the damage both physical and mental, the scars she couldn’t see but knew were there, “We survived, and now we’ve got to try and live. As best as we can,” she kisses him, her lips firm against his, and she barely pulls back, her breath skipping across his face as she speaks, “Together.” 

He nods, pulling her closer, his grip on her fierce. She holds him back just as tightly, seeking comfort as easily as she gives it. 

“Together.” 

-x-

Me to me: you will not write a sequel…you will not write a sequel…

-x-

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[syo0x]

Chuuya's Birthday Special

: ̗̀➛ Smut/Fluff (18+).

: ̗̀➛ CW: Rough sex, Cockwarming, sub reader, missionary, mentions of male part, no mentions on reader (neutral gender reader).

It was Chuuya’s day today.. You wanted to give him something that would make him happy. You've already planned it all before his birthday comes.. You've bought his favourite wine.. and decorating the room with roses and having a balcony decorated with many things as you put a table and to sit on.

This is what Chuuya likes the most.. just sipping on the wine and looking at the balcony and just chatting, you were excited to see him come home and be surprised to have his favourite thing to do with you.

He walked through the shared bedroom late at night and, you can see his eyes were tired as he immediately about to change his night clothes and immediately showered you with kisses and cuddles as he notice something.

The room was decorated as he looked rather surprised and confused. Chuuya glanced over at the flowers and wine, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. He raised an eyebrow before turning his attention back to you.

“Someone missed me.” He murmured, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly to him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, mumbling, “What’s with the flowers and wine?”

"You really forgot, don't you?" You said as you giggled.

Chuuya grumbled something incoherent, but he really did forget. He was too focused on his work recently and barely even noticed that he’d missed something important. His expression was ashamed and guilty now as he looked at you. "It's your birthday..." You said.

“Oh, is it? Ah geez, I actually completely forgot bout’ that.” Chuuya admitted as he snuggled to you and buried his face on your neck.

“Well then, thanks fer’ decorating the room and waitin’ fer’ me despite my shitty memory. You didn’t hafta do all this, just ‘cause it’s my birthday." Chuuya smirked at that.

He didn’t often accept gifts, despite liking to spoil you with his own. And even if he was being ungrateful, he was secretly pleased you had given him this much thought. He then turned to you, gently placing a hand beneath your chin and turning your face up so that your gazes met.

"Then how about i give you whatever you want..?" You said, eager to pleased him.

His smirk widens at this. How could he not have seen that one coming? Though, it was hardly like it was something he’d complain about.

“Ah, now you’re gettin’ it. I like the way you think…” He teased. “But, in case you thought otherwise, you aren’t gettin’ out of this by tellin’ me to do whatever I want. You already know me well enough to know exactly what I want.”

“Don’tcha, Doll?” He said with those smirked of him.. and of course, you can't refuse as you gave your consent, but it looks like what you prepared him would go to waste.

He lay you on the bed as he was on top of you he tightening the grip on you, wrapping his other hand around your waist to anchor you to him. He then took a sip of wine as he kissed you, holding it in his mouth before allowing you to taste it. As you kissed him back, the wine from his mouth was transferred into yours, filling you with a sense of sweet satisfaction. A sense of satisfaction and... desire.

He looked at you with a look of desire before he began to remove his clothing, not taking notice as the rose petals fell to the floor.

Then began to slip your shirt off your body, letting it fall to the side, and when it was fully removed, he began kissing up your bare back, nipping at the back of your collar bone.

As you were fully undress he started, he then turned you around so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They were a mix of amusement and lust. A smirk was playing on his lips once again.

“Y’ready, Doll?” His tone was more than a little cocky. The hand that was once on your hip was now gripping your bare thigh.

He pushed his big cock onto yours.. he didn't even bother stretching you out before he did it.. He thrust on you fast as you didn't expected, you grip on his back making some noises.

The sound of wet clapping is heard even more loudly and forcefully now, he kept thrusting his cock deep inside you making you feel things as you started to mark his back cause of your nail.

“Mmm… so… tight….” Chuuya let out another low groan, his movements speeding up even more. His grip on your hips gets a little bit tighter.

"Keep me this tight f'me doll.." He began to place your legs to his shoulder to make him thrust on you easier. Feeling your warmness and tightness on his cock drives him crazy making me thrust more faster... You've never really felt him like this before as tears started run down your cheeks making Chuuya lick it and kissing you deeply.

“Nnn… I’m about to….” Chuuya murmured as his movements started to pick up an even quicker pace. As both of you came.. Chuuya filled you up with his warm seeds, not daring to pull out until he thrust a little bit more to make it all go into yours.

“Heh…” Chuuya lets out a weak, soft moan as he changes your position into sitting on his lap.. and his cock still burried deep inside you. You felt so full at this point as you try to get up a little bit making Chuuya push you down as you were surprised and moaned.

"Mhn.. Doll.. Stay.." He said as he snuggled up to you.

You just sigh.. as your body relaxed into him and looked at him with adoration..

"Happy Birthday, Chuu.." You said smiling..

Chuuya’s breath caught upon hearing those words. He seemed surprised by your sudden shift in tone. He paused for a moment, a conflicted expression forming upon his face, but he decided to ignore it. Instead, he just squeezed your hand gently, as though he were about to break it, his grip so tight.

“... Thank you, Doll.. I love you..."

He said as he gave you a quick kiss and snuggled to you as both were still connected together, so as both of you relaxed on both of your warm embraces tonight

[ryuichirou]

Replies

You know the drill!

Anonymous asked:

Malleus is soooo cute and he's being such a little shit about it 😭❤️

He knows he is the cutest, that’s for sure >:3

Anonymous asked:

Oh your LiliMal 💚💚💚 I love it so much!

I just really have this thing on my mind that young Malleus has a crush on our dear cool General Lilia. I mean who wouldn't? fufufu

Thank you so much, Anon!

I agree, Malleus and Lilia have a very complicated relationship, but one thing about it is certain: Lilia has always been the most special person in Malleus’ life <3 for better or worse lol So he was absolutely crushing hard on him back then.

Anonymous asked:

YOU

*points accusing finger at you*

I see the purple and green paint mixing in that pallet, sneaky bastard(/j)

*this is refering to the greenviolet art*

Ahh I’ve been found! Exposed!

It’s all Violet’s fault, he is the one mixing these! And he absolutely doesn’t need whatever colour he ends up with, I don’t think it works very well lol But it’s the process that counts…

artfulhero-m asked:

Also completely random but you know how Malleus has the ability to teleport yeah? Do you think he has the ability to choose to teleport out of his clothes or do you think the clothes have to stay on during teleportation? The thought of that man just forgetting to teleport with his clothes on and actually managing to catch a housewarden meeting, albeit naked, is a really funny thought to me. Then again, he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to do that at all, but it's still a funny thought in my opinion lol.

(this is the second part of the ask from yesterday)

I’ve never thought about it, but you know, accidentally teleporting out of your own clothes does sound like a fun concept lol Maybe this is one of the first things you learn when you master teleportation: how to keep your clothing belongings intact, and then how to teleport other objects or people without directly touching them. Malleus really isn’t very likely to make that amateur mistake, he is very powerful and skilled.

But for the sake of the funny scenario… he would be so confused about what’s going on, and the rest of housewardens would be so shocked that they probably wouldn’t say anything. I’m betting Kalim will be the first one to make a sound lol

Poor Malleus, he would be very upset and embarrassed after that. Which is horrible for every single NRC student; we don’t want to have Malleus in a bad mood… the housewardens would silently swear to never speak about it again. But the memory would haunt them forever…

Anonymous asked:

I saw your RookLeo reply, and I was like 👀 But honestly I think maybe it happened exactly ONCE because Leona thought that giving in just once will stop Rook's... obsessive behaviors, but little did he know 🤣

Sounds like a typical thing Leona tells himself to cope; like yeah sure it was a plan that just didn’t work and somehow even backfired lol

But to be fair, there is no way this plan would’ve worked in the first place, so…

[comicarc]

𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

Just a walk down memory lane. I just haven’t found many fics about Jason before he was killed, so I thought I’d write one.

wc: 1182

My first memory of Jason was when I first met him in the alley. I was strolling down the streets at night naive and oblivious to the dangers surrounding me. It was one of the few times I was carefree and ignorant of consequences. I felt so happy walking down a puddle-filled sidewalk. Homeless people left and right, the road lined with potholes and men running around mugging people. In this part of Gotham, this would be the best it gets.

It was drizzling and I was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts. It’s almost never sunny in Gotham, but I was determined that today would be different. To my surprise, the day had been cloudless, but as evening approached the clouds began rolling in. Little me, holding on to the little hope I conjured, decided not to change or even grab a jacket before heading for my stroll.

By now I had managed to walk over five blocks to an alley. I heard laughter down the way and was curious enough, against my better judgment, to follow the voice. Nearing the origin of the voice I saw a boy about my age. He looked tired and beaten up, but his voice was full of pure joy. He wore a bright red, worn out hooded jacket. His jeans were tattered and his shoes had enormous holes in them. There was a small corner next to him with stacks of blankets and used pillows. Did he live here?

I walked up to him and asked, “What’s a boy like you doing out here laughing?”

“Can’t I laugh if I want to?” He retorted as he swung his body to face me. A knife pressed against my throat.

“I guess you can.” I gulped. I was not prepared for this to happen.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Just out of habit.”

“I guess it must be a daily occurrence if you’re used to doing this by now.”

“You wouldn’t believe how many psychos run around trying to rob a child.”

“I bet.”

“You shouldn’t be here. Not unless you want to meet people like me or want to get killed.”

“Maybe I like meeting people.”

He chuckles before nudging me to the opening of the alleyway. “Go home.”

He then proceeds to hand me his jacket seeing as I was shivering from the weather. I put it on after a few protests and he pulle the hood above my head. His touch felt rough but loving.

I was enchanted for a few minutes, staring deeply into his eyes until I replied, “Alright, but before I leave I want to know what to call my new friend.”

“Name’s Jason.”

“I’m y/n.” I said as I exited the alley and ran back home.

After that incident, I hung out with him in that alley all the time before he became Bruce Wayne’s ward. He became distant soon after he found a new family, but he still tried his best to wish me on my birthdays and congratulate me whenever I won or competed in competitions at Gotham High. I never realized it then, but his presence always lifted my spirits. Made me elated beyond comprehension. Without him, I don’t know what would have happened to me. 

My favorite memory of him occurred as he attended a prestigious school around the time he was 18. We’d been distant lately, but I visited him every now and then. This night I decided I would go to his dorm and treat him to a night of relaxation. It was 9:00 pm, so he would most definitely have been awake, but when I arrived he didn’t open the door. After an hour or two of waiting, he finally greeted me and let me into his humble abode. Distraught by the reason why I had to wait so long, I questioned his whereabouts until he finally gave in.

“I was showering”

Completely flabbergasted I replied, “What the actual fuck Jason. Who takes showers for two hours?”

“Me.”

I laughed before taking the food I had brought out of the grocery bag and laying it out on his living room table. His body was definitely drenched, but not in water, rather sweat. I knew he was lying, but why? He was always sweet to me ever since we were kids. There was no reason for him to lie to me, he knows I would help through anything and accept all his endeavors happily.

Still, I wasn’t going to get mad over nothing, so as he proceeded to leave the room to bring blankets for us, I sat down and put on our favorite movie, My Bloody Valentine . When he comes back and sits on the couch I let him lie his head on my lap as we watch. The blankets cover Jason’s entire body and my legs, making the couch a makeshift bed and my lap a pillow. Unconsciously I begin stroking his head, and only realize it by the end of the movie. By then Jason had also fallen asleep. 

It was one of the few nights he seemed at peace. We were so close, and I gained that he truly felt the world of me by trusting me. More than anything it was the night I realized that I loved Jason.

My most recent memory of him was the day he died. I was mad. No, I was absolutley furious. He never told me he was Robin. Did he not trust me? No, maybe he did it to protect me. Still, knowing would’ve been better than nothing. I had the right to know, not interfere but to at least know. Our relationship was longer than anyone else’s, and yet, he never trusted me enough to tell me something so important. Now he’s gone forever. I’ll never be able to hear his sweet words, bathe in his warmth, or even tell him that I love him. I will never have that opportunity again, all because of his damned crime fighting persona. 

Today, on his birthday, I sit on the couch, playing My Bloody Valentine , with a cake set in front of me. It reads, “Happy Birthday Jason!” with one lit candle in the dead center. I looked at the clock with puffed eyes. I had been crying the whole night, reminiscing on past memories of Jason.

Right when the clock struck twelve I heard a thud come from the balcony of my apartment. Since I was alone, I prepped myself to confront the intruder. Taking the closest weapon I could find, I begin heading to my balcony. Outside, the light breeze makes me shiver. Holding the weapon with two hands I slowly approach the shadowy figure at the corner of my balcony. As I near, I see him wearing cargo pants and a leather jacket. The figure begins walking towards me. At this point I’m scared out of my wits as he comes close. 

He pulls me into a hug before saying, “I’m sorry y/n. For everything.”

Confused and comforted at the same time, I question, “Jason?”