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#That's less cute but my point still stands
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
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TW: NSFW, dubcon if you squint
You are laying in bed, not sleeping, feeling sorry for yourself when your phone rings on your bedside table. You don’t recognize the number, so you answer with a cautious, “Hello?” 
“Hi, pretty girl.”
You pause a long beat, and not because you don’t recognize the voice on the other end. “How the ever-loving fuck did you get this number?”
It’s Officer Tom Ludlow, of course. Just what you need, on this night from Hell.
“I’m a detective, remember?” You can just hear the self-satisfied smirk, and he’s lucky he’s not standing in front of you, because tonight you just might have slapped him.
You use your moderately adequate brain for some deductive reasoning of your own, and realize, “You took my number from Julian’s phone. After you assaulted him.”
On the other end he lets out a long whistle. “Baby, that’s such a strong word.”
“Do not call me baby.”
“Alright. Sweetheart.”
“God, you are such a fucking caveman.”
“Thank you.”
You sigh, too fucking tired for this shit. Your heart feels like a chewed up piece of gum, and your lady parts are pulsing angrily at you for ruining their evening earlier.
They like the sound of Tom’s deep voice in your ear, and that is so not good.
“You okay?”
The question actually takes you aback, because the smarmy shit-eating tone is gone, and he sounds…serious?
“I guess. Why?”
“That doesn’t sound okay.”
“Why do you think it’s any of your goddamned business?”
“I told you. If Dr. Bitch hurts you, it is my business.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” you grumble. In fact, he didn’t really do much of anything to you. Now that more time has passed, the more annoyed you are about that.
Fuck if Detective Ludlow doesn’t seem to hear that in your voice too. “Ohhhh. Sounds like the Good Doctor didn’t hit anything?” 
“Oh my god. I hate you. Do you know that?”
He gives a low chuckle that absolutely goes straight to your deprived pussy, and you squirm a little in bed, so grateful he can’t see you.
“You wish you hated me.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Don’t hang up, pretty girl. Tell me what you’re wearing.” His voice dips low, and smooth as velvet.
Every hair on your body lifts in response to this, your nipples pebbling into painful points. Bastard.
“A parka.”
“Pshh. You sleep in a parka? Come on, baby.” How effective that soft, coaxing tone is at dissolving your inhibitions is alarming. You can almost see yourself, as though standing at the edge of a great abyss. If you jump…there will be no going back. 
“Fine. I’ll use my own imagination. I think you’re wearing…a cute little lacy negligee that just floats on your luscious curves…”
Well, you guess you’re getting a picture of what he likes.
“Jesus Christ. I’m wearing a tank top, you pervert,” you grouse, trying to shatter his fantasy. Nevermind the fact that you are now soaking wet, again.
“Nice. No panties?”
“I am wearing panties.”
“You aren’t going to need ‘em. Do you know what I’d do to you, after dinner, my beautiful nurse?”
“Gee, I bet you’re going to fucking tell me.”
“Oh come on. We’re having fun.”
“You are having fun.”
“But you’re still listening.”
Well, he has you there, the smug sonofabitch.
“Maybe.”
He chuckles at the other end of the line, a low sound that makes you clench with need.
“You’ve got to answer a question for me first.”
“What?”
“You’ve got to dip into that sweet little pussy for me, and tell me how wet you are on the scale from one to ten.” 
You should rip him a new one for this. Or just hang up. Why can’t you just hit the button and end this nonsense? But then…you’d be alone. Your real-time reaction is less dignified, but maybe more honest. 
You laugh.
It starts as a giggle, then crescendos into an all out guffaw. “Tom…you are a nut.”
You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, and goddamn if you don’t actually start to feel better. “Oh come on baby, don’t hold out on me. I’ve got a solid ten inches in my hand for you here.”
This makes you laugh even harder. “Ten inches?!”
“Ok. Maybe nine and a half.” 
You giggle, and you can’t stop. “I don’t know if I can handle all that, Officer Ludlow.”
You don’t know how his voice lowers even more, as he says, “Oh, I know you can take it. Don’t worry, I’ll ease it in nice and slow.”
Suddenly the bubbles of laughter in your gut go flat, replaced with an aching heat that sears your insides, your clit throbbing in response to his dirty mouth. It’s possible a kittenish little sound squeaks from the back of your throat.
You really don’t know where you get the courage to ask softly, “Yeah? Then what?”
“Then I would kiss all over those pretty, soft titties. I want those perfect nips in my mouth.”
You know you make a sound then, and he surely hears it. “Will you check them for me? Lick your fingers and give them a pinch.”
“You are ridiculous.” It comes out small, and breathy, and it doesn’t really sound like an insult at all. So what, if you do as he tells you? And so fucking what, if imaging it’s his hands on you makes you feverish with desire, a spear of longing throbbing in your cunt.
He doesn’t answer you right away, which means he’s busy with something else. Maybe Tom is just as pent up as you are from all this edging the two of you have been putting each other through. 
“Are you.. are you really?” You ask, hating how your voice exposes the fact that you’re not only pinching your nipples, but borderline feeling yourself up at the sound of his hiking breath. 
“Yeah, honey, I am.”
“Oh,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can think of. Your cunt is screaming below about how she wants to talk to Tom Ludlow because you’re doing a shit job at it. 
“Ah, fuck. Are you doing what I told you?” 
“No.”
“Good. Lick your fingers again, circle those pretty nipples for me. Close your eyes and imagine it’s my tongue. Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits so bad.” 
He doesn’t have to know that you’re following orders. That you’re grinding on the bunched blanket between your legs while you imagine his big, rude hands playing with your tits instead of your own.
“You listening to me, beautiful girl?”
“Yeah. Don’t get a big head about it.” 
“Good job. And too late.” 
“I do hate you, you know. I’m serious.” It has no real venom; in fact, it sounds more like a term of endearment at this point. 
He laughs. “C’mon, tell me how soaked she is.”
She’s flooded, is the answer. She’s dampening the pressed comforter, she’s throbbing and screaming and crying and pulsing to the tempo of his black coffee voice. 
You’re not much for vocals when you get off. You have neighbors that already have to hear about your dreams, and the act itself seems like more business than pleasure sometimes. When you were younger, you shared a room with your two sisters, so you learned to be quiet and discreet about rubbing your pussy. That all flies out the window when you sink two fingers into your sopping cunt at Tom’s direction. 
“10,” you hiss, straining to hit your gspot. Maybe you really do need to invest in one of those toys Sheila is always elbowing you about.
“Oh, poor baby.” Your walls flutter violently at his mocking tone. 
“I thought you were going to tell me what you would do to me after dinner?” Maybe you’re desperate, or just stupid. It doesn’t really matter when all you want is to orgasm on Tom’s voice.
“Thought I was? Didn’t I tell you about how I’m gonna dip into that sweet wet pussy, and play with your little clit with my thumb while I fuck you with this big cock? How do you like it, honey? Slow and deep? Fast and hard?”
You make a strangled little sound–because your fingers are just not enough, and it hurts. It hurts that he’s not here with you, filling you up, holding you down with those calloused hands and that filthy, insatiable, mouth.
“What was that?” 
His voice is strained, and you think you’re not the only one in pain here.
“Slow,” you answer. “At first.” Why exactly are you handing him this ammunition? How stupid, how dangerous, to offer up the keys to your undoing? You know he will only use this information against you.
“Mmm.” His breathing is labored, and the thought of him with his cock out, stroking himself to this dirty talk is almost too much to stand. Julian had you trussed and at his mercy right in front of him, but couldn’t keep it up. All Tom Ludlow needs is the sound of your voice. After the night you’ve had, that alone is nearly enough to make you cum.
“But then I like it deep,” you pant. “You think you got what it takes?”
“Baby, I’ve got everything you need.”
You are trying to be as quiet as you can, while you abuse your clit with your two middle fingers, practically holding your breath, getting high on the oxygen deprivation. You’re too quiet, you suppose.
“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Gotta let me hear it when you cum for me.”
“Or what?” you grouse. “Maybe I’m just…mixing pancake batter.” 
His laughter is strained, and you just know he’s close. “Or you’ll regret it, sweet girl. When I finally get these hands on you? Mmm I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you cum without mercy.” 
Again, you can’t help but compare the versions of punishment to the men in your life. Julian wants to hurt you. Tom just wants to make you cum.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah? You there, baby?”
You try to just breathe through your nose, to not give him the satisfaction–but you fail spectacularly.
“Y/n?” He calls, singing your name and making it sound so pretty and good and special. 
“Y-yeah?”
“You coming with me? I’m waiting for you.”
You’re right there, dangling over that sweet, slippery precipice that you can usually ease yourself over carefully. Tom gives you a little shove, and you’re plummeting. 
“That’s my girl.” He doesn’t sound much better off than you while you sob from the unexpected, haywire orgasm. 
It takes a long minute for you to come back to earth, come back to breathless Tom who isn’t saying anything for once in his life. 
That pleasant, floaty post coital bliss gets stained with shame when the clarity of who you just mutually masturbated with hits you. 
He talks first, what a surprise. “Do you feel better?”
“No.” But then, “a little bit.”
“At least one of us does.” You hear him shuffling around on the other end, maybe opening a fridge. It makes you smile to think of him jerking off at his kitchen table. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why in God’s name are you still entertaining this conversation? You both got what you wanted, and if you stay here too long listening to his voice you’re going to be right back where you started—ready for round two. 
“I won’t feel better until you’re mine.” He sounds humorless, which worries you in itself even without the possessive words added. “C’mon, sweet nurse, aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”  
“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. I never will.”
“Oh? Bullshit.” 
“I’m hanging up.” 
Almost as if he knows you’re full of it, or maybe he just doesn’t care about talking into an empty phone line, he continues. “You’re telling me you’ve never wanted a man to take care of you? Protect you, defend you, fuck anyone up who even thinks to raise a hand or word against you?”
Honestly? That’s all you’ve ever wanted, although you’ll take that admittance to your grave. After a lifetime of taking care of other people, having someone to do that for you in return sounds like a castle in the sky. But, the thing about castles in skies? They’re imaginary. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess, you’d do all that and more?” Maybe the venomous sarcasm is a little too mean. 
He sighs as if you’re the one assaulting his date, stealing his number, and then calling to harass and annoy him. “Okay, tough girl. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
“No you won’t.” 
“Mm. Night, beautiful.” 
You wait for him to hang up. He doesn’t. You don’t, either. You feel his grin blossoming through the white noise of the line, listen to him rustle about, hear bottles clinking, water running, fabric swishing. Your eyes get heavy to the sounds of his nightly routine, lashes threatening to touch cheek. 
His voice is void of its usual gruff when it permeates the pleasant, strange, foggy land between awake and unconscious. “Baby?”
“Mm, yeah?” You try to make your mouth move properly, but the words come jumbled and slurred, weighted with exhaustion. 
“Sweet dreams.” 
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mennany · 3 months
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*Materialises in order to post a 3 month old drawing from a fandom I've never posted art for before*
A few months ago I had the thought: What if Cat Noir had actual cat eyes? And while messing with that idea, I thought it would be cool to do a drawing of him with his eyes glowing like cats' do. And then I thought it'd be cool to draw Cat Blanc with his eyes glowing, and so I made this.
It's not often I make proper illustrations with actual backgrounds, and I'm really happy with it and proud of myself for actually finishing it, and putting the effort into making it look pretty.
Anyway that's probably way too much talking for a single image, lol. So farewell! See you in... however long it is before I decide I feel like posting something again. Maybe if I ever actually finish another animatic. Anyway, bye! *De-materialises*
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robotsandramblings · 1 year
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i agree Echo should get the handprint back on his armor
but what if... what if.........hear me out?...........
he doesn't get Rex's handprint, but Omega's
whaddya think TBB fam? 😏👉👈 (explanation in my tags)
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welcometogrouchland · 1 month
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Also in the replies of the Steph concept art on twitter announcing she was gonna be in a new project at DC (posted by Travis Mercer), there were at least 3 comments saying "will Tim be there?" I don't care how hard you ship timsteph I'm exploding you with my eyeballs if you do that on my girls post again
#ramblings of a lunatic#taking a step back to acknowledge that my stanning may be getting overzealous#but then again I'm not in ppls quotes or replies I'm vagueing on an entirely different website with no relevant tags. it could be worse#anyway I know tims had it rough these past couple of months ever since zdarsky shifted focus of the batman title to have less tim#but it still feels. idk. just a wee bit uninspired to act like steph can't go two steps without tim being behind her#im ngl i like timsteph when they're cute but timsteph twitter has been. pissing me off a tad lately#the refusal to acknowledge the sexism in dixons robin run and how it impacts stephs writing and their relationships writing#the refusal to acknowledge tims occasional condescension and hypocrisy when it comes to stephs vigilantism#seemingly only wanting her to be spoiler when he wants her around and telling her to give it up most of the time#also the constant disrespect of stephs batgirl era on there weirdly enough?#I've harped on about this on main and in drafts but despite it's flaws it's a good turn for stephs character#she's the focus she gets development (an upward trajectory! which had previously been unheard of for her! bc she did have flaws as spoiler-#-its just that both writers and characters alike seemed to arbitrarily decide she didn't have the capacity to grow past them! but she did!)#hell i saw a BIZARRE take today i just have to bitch about#which was them saying that Batgirl was a ''heteronormative mask'' steph put on#with spoiler being her more authentic self (and this being paralleled to gender expression with stephs isolation from the batfam as spoiler-#-showing how she ''wasnt like them'')#which. I'm not denying you the view that spoiler has a certain genderific swag to her but the needless dragging of her batgirl persona#steph got treated badly as spoiler bc she was A Girl. it's genuinely that simple dixon felt batman and robin would never stand for a girl-#-running around doing the things they did and would need to chivalrously stop her. he's gone on record saying this#she's constantly getting belittled by mostly men (cass also dismisses her but it feels distinctly less gendered)#and in the end it's barbara who learns to give steph a second chance despite her mistakes and they have a positive relationship#something ppl are quick to dismiss as being in and of itself sexist bc they're pairing the two girls off together#as if batgirl isn't a legacy and as if babs and steph don't have parallels in their resilience and refusal to accept when ppl tell them no#for better and for worse!!#like. idk how you took the strongest feminist element in that comic (bc there are elements of sexism here and there! 2009 n all)#and somehow turn it into ''heteronormativity'' YOU PPL ARE JUST SAYING WORDS AT THIS POINT!!!#anyway. someone take away my internet access
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marcsburnerphone · 3 months
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And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: none yet
Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4
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———————
“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.
“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.
“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.
“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.
“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.
“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.
“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.
“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.
“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.
“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.
“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.
“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.
“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.
“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.
“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.
“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet
‘of course’.
“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.
“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.
“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.
“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.
—————-
“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.
“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.
‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.
“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.
—————————-
“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.
“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.
“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.
“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.
“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.
“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.
“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.
“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.
“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.
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“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.
“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.
“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.
“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.
“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.
“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.
“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.
“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.
“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.
“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.
But what if?
——————-
“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.
“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.
“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.
“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.
“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.
“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.
“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.
He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.
“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.
“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.
“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.
“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.
“No worries love.” He nods to you.
“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.
He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.
—————————————-
I’m ready for a new story.
Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3
If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.
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javiscigarette · 10 months
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Bad Fun
Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Jealous Joel takes you in the bar bathroom. (Inspired by the like five jealous Joel requests that have been sitting pretty in my inbox for weeks).
Warnings: smut, established relationship, (semi) public sex, slapping, degradation, hair pulling, pretty rough (consensual!) sex, possessive Joel <3, heavy on the dirty talk and daddy kink no use of y/n
w/c: 3.4k
A/N: Answered a request? How very unlike me. Idk why but you guys were thirsty for jealous Joel but I am not complaining! Also two fics in a week? who am I turning into?
my masterlist
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You can feel his eyes on you, even with your back turned to him. And you can see the way the men look over your shoulder, casting anxious glances at the man who’s now giving them an icy glare. 
“Well, if you ask me, I’d say you’re far too young and pretty to be hanging around with a man like that” one of them says as he casually places a hand on your midback. 
You raise an eyebrow at him, but you don’t say anything about his hand on you. 
“A man like what?” you ask innocently.
Almost everyone in Jackson knew about you and Joel. The two of you were practically glued at the hip, if there was one of you, then the other wasn’t far away. Joel usually had a protective arm draped your shoulders, keeping you safely tucked away under his arm. Or a hand tucked in the back pocket of your jeans as you walk the streets of Jackson together, giggling at some inside joke like you were the only two people in the world.  
And most men knew that you were off limits. Most of them were smart enough not to test Joel like that, fully aware of the repercussions that come with going after his girl. But these younger men, the one’s around your age, were still ballsy enough to push the boundaries. 
The man laughs, his hand slowly sliding further down your back. 
“He’s just a bit old for you, isn’t he? He’s like 50, isn’t he?”  
You bite your lip to hold back a laugh. You glance over your shoulder at Joel where he’s seated at a table across the room with Tommy and a few other guys from patrol. He has his front turned to you as he leans back in chair, one hand wrapped around his glass of whiskey and the other resting casually on his crotch. His eyes are dark as he watches you carefully and a small but dangerous smirk is tugging at the corner of his mouth. 
“More years of experience” you quip, turning back around and taking a sip from the cocktail that one of them bought for you. 
The boys laugh, and the hand on your back slides down even lower until he’s inches away from your ass. You allow it, fully aware that Joel is still watching you.  
“Maybe” he says, stepping closer towards you and closing the space “But I bet I could last longer than him.” 
You supress another laugh as images of Joel fucking you into the mattress for hours flashing through your head. If only they knew. 
“Buy me another drink and maybe I’ll want to find out if you’re right” you say, looking at him through your lashes trying to feign innocence. 
The man smirks, entire too confident in his abilities to pull someone else’s girlfriend, much less Joel Miller’s girlfriend. You giggle as he rushes to turn around and find the bartender, flagging him down and pointing to your empty glass. 
These men are cute enough, boyish faces with a youthful sparkle in their eyes. Still, they’re obviously not you’re type and you’re far from being interested in slightest.
It’s not the flirting that fun, it’s what comes after. 
Joel watches you for a few more minutes, his skin growing hot with jealousy as he watches the man inch his hand further and further down your back. But he doesn’t intervene. If he didn’t know any better, those men would be on the floor before they even got the chance to touch you. 
But he’s not that naïve. He’s played this game with you before and he knows exactly what you want. 
He downs the rest of his whiskey and sets the glass on the table before standing up and heading towards the bathroom. He crosses your line of sight on the way but doesn’t make any effort to acknowledge you. 
He knows you’re watching. 
“I’ll be back, you boys have fun without me” you say quickly before finishing your drink and setting the empty glass on the bar. You don’t give them a chance to respond before you’re slipping away and heading towards the bathroom. 
Your entire body is vibrating with excitement as you practically run after Joel, heady desperation mixing with the alcohol in your veins. There’s only one bathroom and you only have to knock once before Joel swings the door open and yanks you inside. You giggle with excitement as he pushes you up against the door and clicks the lock in place. 
With one hand on your hip, he shoves a knee between your legs so that his thick thigh presses firmly against your core. 
“Such a fuckin’ slut” Joel growls. He brings his other hand up to grip your jaw, his fingertips digging in your cheeks and squeezing so hard that your mouth pops open.
“Can’t leave you alone for two goddamn seconds without you whorin’ yourself out.” 
The whiskey is heavy on his breath and his eyes are dark, his pupils blown from the liquor and lust making you clench around nothing, already hopelessly turned on. His grip on your both your hip and jaw are firm and unforgiving, serving as an indicator for what’s about to go down. You know that you probably shouldn’t push him more than you already have, but you can’t resist. 
“They were saying they could fuck me better.” 
Joel’s jaw tightens and his scowl deepens as he narrows his eyes at you. He’s still for a beat, and you bat your eyelashes at him innocently. Then within an instant, he manhandles you over to the sink, pinning your front against the fake marble countertop with his hips. You giggle again when you feel the bulge in his jeans pressing firmly against your ass as he holds you tight against him. 
He snakes an arm up the front of your body, his forearm resting heavy and warm between your breasts as he grips your jaw once again, forcing you to look straight ahead. Your gaze meets his in the mirror and a hot wave of arousal washes over you as he slips his other hand between your legs. 
“Jesus fuck” he groans quietly when he feels how wet you are.  
“I know what your little plan is, sweetheart” Joel murmurs as his fingers feather over your swollen, dripping seam. “Actin’ like a fuckin’ slut to get me to bend you over and make you stupid on my cock, right angel?”  
You just grin smugly and back up against him.  His eyes get even darker, and you can see the muscles in his jaw flexing subtly under his skin. 
You nod weakly and whine at his words, a jolt of electricity shooting down your spine as try to grind down on his fingers, desperately chasing after any sort of friction. But Joel’s not having it. He moves his hand away from your jaw briefly so he can deliver a sharp smack to your cheek. It’s not hard enough to truly hurt, but it’s definitely enough to make your eyes snap open and your skin tingle for a few seconds. 
“Use your words” Joel hisses, his fingers curling around your jaw once again.  
“Yes, Joel.” 
Another quick slap. 
“And mind your fuckin’ manners.” 
You whine again before correcting yourself. 
“Yes, daddy” 
Joel groans and rolls his hips against your ass in approval. You whimper when his hand leaves your core, but you’re quickly rewarded when he slides his two fingers, damp with your slip past your lips. You suck on them happily, satisfied with something finally in your mouth. You languidly roll your tongue around them, licking off arousal and coating them liberally with your saliva. Joel watches you through the mirror and leans in until his mouth is inches away from your ear. 
“Look at that” he whispers, his warm breath fanning over your ear and jaw. “My dirty little girl, so desperate for her daddy.” 
Hi cock twitches against you as he watches your eyes roll back as drool starts to leak out of the corner of your mouth, a small drop sliding down your chin. He curses under his breath and slowly removes his fingers from your mouth. You whine at the loss, but the sound quickly melts into a loud, drawn-out moan when he shoves them inside of you. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust, just starts pumping his two fingers in and out of you at a dizzying pace. He watches you in the mirror and forces you to watch too, his grip tightening on your face. 
“So fuckin’ wet for me already, angel” Joel groans. “Does actin’ like a goddamn whore turn you on, baby? S’that why your little pussy is already dripping all over my fingers?
“Daddy please” you pant, already embarrassingly close to release.
He just chuckles breathlessly as you squeeze around his fingers. Another loud moan tumbles past your lips when he adds a third finger. It burns in the best way, your sensitive walls stretching out around his thick fingers.
But he suddenly stills his fingers inside of you and the pleasure starts to quickly fade. You whimper and wiggle your hips, already missing the sensation. 
“Be a good slut and fuck yourself on daddy’s fingers.” 
You make a garbled sound in your throat and immediately start to grind your hips back. You try to position your body to get his fingers deep like they were before, but it’s no use. Only he knows how to get that perfect angle. With a frustrated huff and no other options, you double down on your efforts. You curl your fingers over the beveled edge of the fake marble countertop and push your hips back. 
The lewd squelching sounds of his fingers working your tight cunt open bounce off the walls of the small bathroom and into your ears, sending a wave of heat down your body. He groans next to your ear when you start squeezing his fingers so hard that you’re almost forcing them out. 
“Greedy fuckin’ slut” Joel whispers. “You gonna cum like this?” 
 He’s well aware that it’s not enough. But he loves to watch you try. 
“Can’t, Joel” you whine. You yelp when Joel pulls his fingers from you and delivers a sudden smack to your ass. 
“What’s my fuckin’ name?” Joel hisses, squeezing your jaw even tighter. You wouldn’t be surprised if you found bruises in the shape of his fingertips in the morning. 
“Daddy” you whine, high pitched and needy.
He grunts approvingly then suddenly removes his fingers. You whimper quietly at the loss and watch through the mirror moves to unbuckle his belt. He shoves his jeans down just enough to free his cock then bunches the hem of your dress around your waist. 
“Tell me something, baby” Joel sighs, using both hands to spread your cheeks and exposing your burning heat to the cool room of the air. “Do you think they could fuck you better than I can?”
“No, daddy” you reply without missing a beat. 
Joel hums but doesn’t say anything as he takes a half step forward, pressing his cock against your dripping seam. You moan softly at the sensation, the smooth, warm skin of his tip rubbing against your puffy clit. He starts to rock his hips, slowly dragging his cock back and forth through your folds, lubing himself up with your slick. 
“Are you this fuckin’ wet for them?” he rasps, his fingertips digging into your hips.
“No, daddy” you gasp. 
“Then who’s this pussy so needy for?” Joel taunts, the fat tip of his cock notching at your entrance. 
You clench around nothing and ty to push your hips back against him, but the sharp spank he lands on your ass stops you. 
“You daddy! Please daddy, only for you.” 
“That’s right, angel” Joel praises, bringing both hands to your hips. “You’re fuckin mine.”  
With that, he pushes inside and buries himself to your hilt in one fluid movement. Your knees buckle and your head falls forward, hanging between your shoulders, but the arm he wraps around your waist keeps you upright. He holds you tight in place and snaps his hips against your ass, knocking all the air out of your lungs and getting impossibly deep with each thrust. You try to bite back the loud moans but it’s a lost cause when he finds the angle where his tip kisses your cervix with every stroke. 
He starts pounding into you faster and removes his arm from your waist, his hand now trailing up your back instead. He fists his hand in your hair and pulls your head up and holds you there, forcing you to look ahead in the mirror. 
“You keep your eyes on me. Since you seem to have trouble rememberin’ who fuckin’ owns you” 
Your eyelids flutter, but you don’t dare close them. You stare at him through the mirror, eyebrows drawn together with your mouth hanging open, strained whines and moans slipping past your lips as he continues with his brutal pace. And he just smiles down at your almost cruelly. 
Joel laughs breathlessly from behind you when you let out a loud, broken moan and your cheeks heat up at the sound, knowing that there are people less than five feet away on the other side of the wall. It’s mortifying for you, but it only fuels Joel’s fire. 
 “M’not gonna cover your mouth, sweetheart” Joel grunts, tightening his grasp in your hair even more. “Want you to let everyone in this bar know who’s fuckin’ you this good” 
Your eyes roll into the back of your head and the sounds start to freely pour out of you. The way he’s pounding relentlessly right into your g-spot causes the heat swirling in your belly to start burning hotter. Your knees are starting to buckle and your fingers scramble on top of the countertop, searching for purchase on the smooth surface as you try to keep yourself upright. 
Joel isn’t any help. He just watches you carefully in the mirror as he slams into you so harshly that you’ll probably have light purple bruises on your hips from where you keep hitting the edge of the counter. And the way his cock starts pulsating inside of you when you start clenching around him drives you both crazy. 
Your whole body feels on fire now with tingles spreading from your lower abdomen and up your spine to the rest of your body. You know he won’t let you finish. You’ve gotten yourself in this exact situation more than enough times to know that. And you also know how annoyingly in tune he is with your body he is, noticing every single miniscule cue you display. 
So, you try to hide it. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to suppress your moans and you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down, but it’s no use when you start to shake.  Joel groans then lets out a dark chuckle from behind as you tremble and reflexively clamp down around him, letting you know that yeah, of course he fucking noticed. 
He leans forward while simultaneously pulling your back by your hair until his lips are brushing the shell of your ear and whispers “Bad girls don’t get to cum”  
He then pulls out and takes a step back fisting his cock. 
“Get on your knees” Joel commands before you even have the chance to whine at the sudden loss. 
You automatically sink to your knees, leaning heavily into the sense of submission that starts to cloud your brain. He looks down at you and smirks at the captivated look on your face as you watch him steadily stroke his cock. The thing is, you can pick up on his cues too, no matter how much he tries to hide behind the façade of his dominance. You can see it in the way his heaving chest starts to flush, the dark blush spreading up his neck and to his cheeks. His breaths get quicker, fand he has a harder time keeping the whines out of his moans. 
You look up at him from your spot on the floor with wet, glassy eyes and he curses under his breath at the sight. 
“Open your mouth, baby.”
You obey and part your wet lips. 
“Good girl” he groans, taking a step forward until he’s inches away from your face. “Daddy’s gonna cum in your mouth, babygirl. D’ya want that?” 
You nod vigorously and give him a small whimper for good measure.  
“Please, daddy” you whisper, sticking your tongue out.
 Joel curses again and his hand on his cock starts to move faster while his free hand moves to the back of your head. Your scalp is already sore from the grasp he had on it earlier so you’re relieved when he doesn’t pull, just gently tangles his fingers in your hair to hold your head in place. 
“Knew you would. You’re just a slut for daddy’s cum, aren’t you?” he teases breathlessly. 
“Please daddy!” you whine again, not at all ashamed of the desperation in your voice.  
Joel grunts and his wrist faulters again as he stares at your awaiting tongue. You wait as patiently as you can, subtly trying to squeeze your thighs together searching for any bit of friction you can get. 
“Fuck angel you look so good like this” he groans, his hips involuntary rolling up to meet his fist. “On your knees waiting for daddy to cum like a good fuckin’ slut.” 
You glow under his praise and start to say something, but Joel’s breathing starts getting heavier and his grunts and moans are getting louder and before you can say anything, he’s thrusting his hip forward to slide his tip past your lips. 
You instantly wrap your lips around him and he doesn’t push in any further, just keeps the tip in your warm, awaiting mouth, his cock pulsing as he unloads rope after rope of hot cum. You try your best to keep eye contact with him, but the feeling of his hot, salty release on your tongue has your eyelids fluttering as your head starts to go dizzy and floaty. 
You also try your best to keep his cum on your tongue, knowing that there was a reason that he didn’t push in all the way and fuck your throat. But it’s so much, it’s always so fucking much that you can’t stop some of it from sliding down your throat. 
“That’s my good girl, My go- ah fuck baby” Joel cuts himself off with a careless moan. You can feel your slick starting to leak out of you and down your thighs at the sound. 
“My good fuckin’ girl. All fuckin’ mine.” 
He hisses when you dip your tongue into his oversensitive slit and reluctantly pulls out of your mouth. You press your lips together, keeping your mouth closed and look up at him expectantly. He smiles down at you, his scowl gone and replaced by a lopsided, sated smile. 
Then he brings a thumb up to your bottom lip and tugs down softly and whispers “Show me.” 
You comply, opening your mouth and proudly showing him the small puddle of his cum on your tongue. 
“Now swallow, baby.” 
You do as your told, closing your mouth and swallowing, then opening again to show him. 
“Good girl” he praises gently. “So good for your daddy.” 
You beam up at him, absolutely melting under his praise. He removes his hand from your hair and reaches out to help you stand up again. He straightens out your dress, making sure to “accidentally” brush his fingers through the mess between your legs. 
“Now,” he starts, tugging the straps of your dress so that they sit evenly on your shoulders. “Go out there and talk to those boys again with the taste of my cum on your tongue.” 
Your skin heats up and you look at him with wide, silently pleading eyes. Those men were only feet away from the bathroom door. If they didn’t see you two go in together, they definitely heard you. 
And that’s exactly what Joel intended. So, he just gives you a devilish grin then pat your bum. 
“Go on, sweetheart. Be a good girl. For your daddy.”  
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wonderlandwalker · 2 months
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A Hero on Socks | Virgin!Eddie Munson x Reader
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Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox
Summary: You've always known your now boyfriend Eddie was a virgin, but with how worked up you've been while teasing him recently, you're not gonna let the first time be over that quickly
Content Warnings / Tags: Smut, mdni, virgin!eddie, established relationship, wrap it before you tap it obviously, overstimulation, no use of y/n
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: Couldn't resist my Eddie Munson fixation any longer. The title comes from a Dutch expression and it basically means someone who seems courageous but is actually a nervous little shit and it seemed perfect for Eddie. I haven't written in a little while so I hope this is still good <3 (This accidentally posted early so enjoy xx)
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The two of you had been dancing on a delicate line of 'just friends' for a while now, and you're not even entirely sure what the turning point was, but eventually you crossed it, now officially being able to call Eddie Munson your boyfriend.
He made heart eyes at you every time you walked in a room, and not a single one of your friends failed to point this out when you told them you got together, none of them the slightest bit surprised. 
It might be a new relationship, but you have known each other for years now, and you knew how to get what you wanted from Eddie. So yes, you knew he was still a virgin, but you failed to see how this would make a difference to you, you didn't care, people shouldn't have to worry that others will hold that against them. What you hadn't counted on, however, was how shy he actually turned whenever you started to tease him.
While you were still friends he would flirt with you unrelentingly, constantly making suggestive comments and touching you in one way or another. But maybe the fact that nothing was supposed to come of it gave him the boost he now seemed to have lost, because whenever you slipped your hand underneath his shirt when you were on the couch next to him, every moment you tried to heat up a kiss, he would go rigid, you would feel his body tense as he ceased any and all actions to create some distance between you. 
You asked him what was going on, asked him if he didn't want to have sex with you, and you had never seen him swivel his head in place so fast, his eyes wide with confusion as he looked at you, sputtering to tell you that wasn't the problem at all. And that's when you learned that the dungeon master of the hellfire club was in fact nervous. 
And really, it was quite cute to see the blood rush to his cheeks when you took your top off, his Adams apple bobbing as you sucked on his pulse point. The boy was downright bashful. 
As the days passed, you found more and more ways in which to get a rise of out him, in more ways than one. From walking into the chill living room without a bra under your t-shirt to not so subtly grinding your ass into him while standing closeby, but your plan began to backfire as you just wanted him more and more yourself, wondering how much longer your patience would hold up. 
The silent curses and groans had you losing your own mind with lust as the days passed, up until the moment he had finally snapped, dragging you into his bedroom in frenzy, trying to get you on top of him as fast as he could.
All of your hard work had led to this moment right here, you could hear his panting from underneath you, his breath becoming more shallow as the muscles in his abdomen started to twitch, and if you weren't so lost in pleasure yourself, you might have teased him for how fast he was becoming undone. 
It's only been a few minutes, and there's a heat creeping up on his neck, you can't resist bending over to meet his lips in a searing kiss. When you move on to mouth at the soft skin of his neck, delicately sucking hickeys into it, the sounds that leave him are nothing less than sinful.
His hands have a death grip on your hips, trying to ground himself but miserably failing every time you grind yourself further into him. You're trying to figure out what he's saying, but it's no more than mumbling in-between his moans of your name, and with how hazy your head is you don't have it in yourself to figure it out. It's only when he suddenly slams his head back against the pillow, face screwed up in a way you can see the small crease between his eyebrows as he curses wildly that you pick up on the fact he wasn't just close, no, he just came. 
At any other time you would have found it adorable, you would have giggled and coed at him softly as you assured him with a sweet kiss that it's okay, but not this time. This time you've been getting yourself worked up from teasing him, from leading him up to this, from the feeling of finally, finally  getting his dick inside you. So no, not this time, this time you won't let the feeling in your stomach fade away, won't stop just yet. 
You feel his cum coating your walls, and the feeling only keeps you going further. It takes Eddie a few seconds to catch on in his state, heavy breath he's trying to catch and a permanent look of pleasure now etched on his face, but you know the exact moment he realizes from the small twitch his dick is already giving again.
"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" He sounds almost close to tears, but he looks at you with nothing but amazement in his eyes.
"You might be done Eddie, but that doesn't mean that I am" youre starting to get a little out of breath yourself, the sentence caught between small whimpers, he scrunches his eyes shut again when you tell him, and the most heavenly moan leaves his mouth as you continue to roll your hips. 
You knew deep down that if he truly wanted to, he could easily get you off him, even in a euphoric state, and so you knew that he is enjoying himself just as much as you are.
His eyes snap back open as you start to go faster, chasing that warm feeling bubbling up inside you, his dick is fully hard again inside you, and you don't doubt it has turned an angry red colour by now. 
"It's too much baby, I can't-" he doesn't manage to finish his thought from the guttural groan that follows him, and you can't deny it only turns you on further to see him this blissed out. 
He's struggling to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch you but gettig lost in the vision of it. Torn between pleasure and pain, the two merging together as you keep going. You can feel the satisfaction of it tugging at your heart as you keep moving, feeling his throbbing dick inside of you as you change the rythm. Eddie is still a mess underneath you, whimpering and groaning for anything, for everything, and it’s too fun not to tease him further.
“What do you want Eddie, tell me and I might give it to you.” You wonder if it even matters what you’re saying, sure that at this point he’s far beyond reach, but he doesnt dare leave you unanswered. 
“You’re so warm baby fuck, just please, please”
You lean into him again, leaving a trail of kisses down the spot on his neck you know make him go weak. “Please what, finish your sentences honey, or I’ll stop right now” The both of you know it’s an empty threat, you’re too close yourself to even dare abandon your goal, but the mere thought of it is enough to make Eddie give you anything you’d want, youre decently sure you could ask for the moon right now and he would go out to catch it for you.
“Please let me cum, I wanna cum so bad holy shit” He can feel you tightening around him as he asks, another pornographic moan leaving him, and you would have made fun of him for it if you weren’t basking in the fact you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.
“Alright baby, because you asked so nicely, go ahead, cum for me.” you whisper the response in his ear, and it takes him mere seconds to find your lips, hiding away in the sweet escape of your tongue against his. For the second time you can feel his cock pulsing his cum inside of you, desperate for the realease. And it’s that feeling exactly, the feeling of his pleasure, that tips you over the edge yourself. The ecstasy taking over your mind, helplessly keeping rocking against him as you slump over, moaning his name as you cum. He catches you in his arms, already tracing patterns in your skin as you’re still riding out your orgasm. 
It takes you a few minutes to fully come back to earth, stars twinkling in your vision. You can feel Eddie’s steady breathing underneath you, his heart still thumping rapidly as you listen for his regular pattern of breaths, mimicking it in order to catch your own. 
“You alright?” His soft voice soothes you, always so gentle, even if most can’t see it. It makes you chuckle this time around, amused at the irony.
“I feel like I should be asking you that.” He mirrors your expression now, a grin breaking out across his face.
“Never been better sweetheart” He accompanies his words with sloppy kisses all over your face, smacking his lips against you in a manner that has you giggling against him.
“Was worried it was too much is all” You look down when you tell him, and he cups your jaw, silently asking you to face him again
“There isn’t a world out there where there could be too much of you.” He kisses you slowly this time, not rushed, not chasing anything, simply enjoying the moment as it is.
You lift yourself up slightly, feeling him leave from inside of you, and when he does you already miss the feeling again. You feel his seed dripping out of you, revelling in how he filled you up until you were so, so full. He’s watching, and you can feel his dick make a small twitch at the sight as he’s holding his breath, completely fixated on it.
“Fucking hell-” he still can’t seem to tear his gaze away, and you’re not immune to the effect itself.
“Give me a few minutes and we can go for another round” You’re laughing at his antics now, his nerves seeming to have fully disappeared and the Eddie you know so well has made it back to you.
He coaxes you to the side to lay down next to him as he slides his arms around you, your leg tangling over his as you snuggle up beside him. Your limbs feel like jelly as he holds you, his fingers still delicately moving across your skin as you can hear his heartbeat evening out from where you're lying down on his chest. This was Eddie, your Eddie, a guy who put on a big show for everyone, but when he was with you got to see his true self, and it only made you love him more.
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initialchains · 2 months
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teenage dirtbag, baby! | luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: there is nothing more exhausting than being known as the picture perfect daughter of aphrodite… luckily, camp half-blood’s resident teenage dirtbag luke castellan can’t relate at all. fake dating him to piss off your siblings and mother could never go wrong, right? (based on 18 by anarbor)
wc: 6.5k
warnings: smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, implied sexual content, drew tanaka being a bitch, and kinda ooc luke bcs hes meant to be well … a teenage dirtbag.
a/n: its still valentine’s day for me sooo happy valentines 💌💗 !! in mexico valentine’s day is also known as the day of friendship so this one is dedicated to my favorite people ever: @emiliehornby @love-that-we-were-in and @kestisvrse <3 !! hope you enjoy it mwah !!
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The sounds of campers laughing and gossiping in the dining pavilion are drowned out by your siblings and their annoyingly loud whispers about the allegedly cute (you’d beg to differ) son of Ares who joined camp less than twelve hours ago. Sure, he seemed like a nice guy even though he's a child of the god of war, but you were certain the only reason they kept bringing him up was because they wanted to set you up with him.
“And his arms, oh my gods! Have you seen them?” one of your brothers chimed in, trying to get you to agree with him, but all you could come up with was a hum and a polite smile. 
It pissed you off a bit, the knowledge of you never being able to go against your siblings' wishes.. the fear of disappointing them and your mother being all-consuming and blinding you with fear.
There were times you’d think about it if you’re being honest. Times where you would let yourself dream of doing something so stupidly reckless for once. Something that would stop your siblings from walking all over you and treating you like their personal lapdog. 
Not only was it tiring but it was also humiliating to a certain point. You were older than most of them and you were pretty sure you were the only one that took being a demigod seriously, even taking your time to strategize for Capture The Flag with Clarisse, and yet… you rejected Chiron when he asked you to be a counselor and told him to ask Silena instead. 
And you loved your family—you really did, but it was getting exhausting. Always having to be perfect was draining you and you were afraid of the kind of person you’d become if you allowed this to keep going. 
“He totally wants to ask you out,” Silena’s voice snapped you out of the daze you were trapped in. You turned your head to the right, facing your half-sister with a small frown on your face.
“You really think so?” you replied, trying your best to sound excited. 
“Oh, I know so,” she answered before going on a whole rant about how cute you’d look with the newly claimed son of Ares. A son of Ares—that you badly wanted to remind her—had only been in camp for less than twelve hours and you knew nothing about. 
You stayed in the dining pavilion with your siblings until you found the strength to tell them you were tired and wanted to go to sleep (an incredibly blatant lie but it didn’t look like they cared) and stood up, brushing the dust off your jeans.
“Wait, I’ll go with you!” Silena said with a smile, standing up and moving closer to you. 
“You don’t have to. You can stay with them if you want to, really—“ you were cut off by your half-sister with an exasperated sigh.
“I want to go with you. Plus, I can walk back here once I drop you off at the cabin,” she stated with a playful roll of her eyes.
The two of you walked back to the Aphrodite cabin in a comfortable silence. You liked being with Silena, she was a few years younger than you but she carried herself with so much grace and love it was hard to feel uncomfortable or weird whenever you hung out with her.
You kept your gaze on the sky, noticing that the moon was out by now. “Hey,” Silena whispered, trying to get your attention.
“You okay?” you answered. Your mind was practically hardwired to always look after your siblings, so your brain was unwillingly making you think of the worst-case scenario.
“What? Yeah, I am okay,” Silena was quick to reassure you, “I just wanted to talk to you about—“
“I swear to all the gods, Silena. If this is about that camper..” you replied with a small sigh. The two of you stopped walking when you reached your cabin, deciding to continue the conversation outside.
“He’s not that bad! He is a nice guy and the two of you would look really cute together,” she insisted.
“You don’t even know him.”
“Ugh, fine. Good thing is there are other cute campers we can introduce you to. I met one of Charlie’s brothers a few weeks ago and I think he’d—“
“I can’t do this tonight,” you replied in an exhausted tone.
“Wow, okay. No need to be mean about it,” Silena muttered.
“I’m sorry?”
“I’ve been trying to help you find a boyfriend for months now and you always shut me down. It was fine at first but now you’re just being mean,” she explained.
“Mean? Silena, you said it yourself. I’ve always shut you down because I’m not interested in getting one.”
“Whatever,” she replied bitterly before turning around and walking back to the dining pavilion, leaving you alone outside of your cabin. 
You stared at her back as she walked away, going through the last few minutes over and over in your head. Were you being mean? All you did was stick up for yourself. You didn’t understand why you were feeling bad for standing up against your siblings just for once.
A snort made you realize you weren’t alone. You turned your head towards the noise just to be met with.. oh.
Luke Castellan was leaning against the side of your cabin, carefully hidden under the darkness of the night and the shadows of the trees, he had a cigarette in his right hand and an obnoxious smirk adorning his even more obnoxious face. 
“Hope you enjoyed the show, Castellan.”
Luke raised his hands as if he had been caught and blew the smoke away, “I’m on your side, she was being a fucking bitch.”
“Don’t call her that, she’s just a kid.”
Luke raised a brow before taking another drag of his cigarette, “Do not call your sister a bitch after seeing her.. be a bitch to you?” he shook his head. “Oh, princess, you need to work on getting rid of that altruism.”
“Do you even know what that word means?” you snapped, not being in the mood to indulge in whatever it was he wanted to talk about.
“Why? You want to teach me?” He said with a smirk.
“Don’t even start with your annoying stuff, Castellan,” you muttered, running a hand down your face, clearly overwhelmed with everything that had happened. 
“Because you know you won’t want me to stop?” he pressed, but after a moment of silence his smirk fell and a frown took over his features. 
“Uh.. you want to...” he trailed off and cleared his throat, “you want to talk about it or something?” 
You squinted at him before eventually letting out a sigh and walking over to Luke, standing next to him with your back pressed against the wooden walls of your cabin. Luke extended his arm away from you to keep the smoke far from your face. 
“So, um... Silena wants to set me up with that new camper,” you started.
“Fuck. The Ares one?” Luke interrupted.
“Castellan.”
“Right, sorry. Please continue, princess.”
You decided to ignore the insufferable pet name he gave you and continued, “The thing is I do want a boyfriend, just not… him.”
Luke hummed before bringing the cigarette to his lips again and inhaling the smoke in, he kept his mouth closed as he thought of something decent to say before slightly tilting his head away from you and blowing out the smoke upwards. 
“Alright, and have you tried telling her to stop?” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Nope that was shitty advice, have you tried maybe describing your type or whatever it is you Aphrodite people say to describe the people you’re attracted to.” 
“My type?” you replied, almost offended by the statement.
“Yeah?” Luke answered as if it was the most obvious thing to do, “Just describe the type of guys you’re into and I’m sure that cult of yours you like to call siblings will be happy to help…” he trailed off when he noticed your gaze set on his right hand and your bottom lip in between your teeth as he flicked the cigarette, causing the ashes to fall into the ground. 
He looked up from his hand and burst out into laughter, shaking his head before whispering an amused fuck. 
“Oh?” Luke said with a bright smile and raised brows, “You find this attractive, angel?” 
“That thing is going to kill you,” you explained, “I’m not attracted to people that like to slowly kill themselves.” 
“Fucking bummer. I wanted to see you take a drag, that would’ve been really hot,” he said, his smile not wavering. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you don’t drink, right?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Look at you, being such a good girl,” Luke teased before throwing the rest of his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. 
“Also, that thing you said about Silena being just a kid was really fucking stupid. She’s almost the same age as Annabeth and she doesn’t act like an asshole, I’m pretty sure your sweet little sister is just a bitch.” 
Annabeth. You forgot that even though Luke is an annoyance most of the time and prefers to stick to himself.. he still has a soft spot for the twelve year old daughter of Athena. It was kind of endearing. 
“Annabeth is a daughter of Athena, you can’t expect her to act—“
“You didn’t act like Silena when you were fourteen. You need to stop giving her excuses and allow yourself to get mad at her.” 
“I’d rather have my siblings get mad at me and just stop perceiving me as this perfect and weak person, maybe once that happens they’ll stop trying to mess with my life,” you explained, your gaze set towards the ground. 
Luke was about to open his mouth and try to come up with a funny one-liner to make you feel better, but he didn’t get to because you were quick to look up at him with a gasp and wide eyes.
“The fuck? Are you okay?” 
“I need you.”
“Shit, angel. Most girls say that after a few dates but I’m not against the idea,” he said with an amused look in his eyes. 
“Ew, no. I mean, I need to date you—fake date you.”
“I’m uh... not for sale?” Luke answered, clearly confused by the plan you were trying to explain.
“No, Castellan. Listen to me. My siblings despise you, I’m sure they’d set my bed on fire as a way of cleansing my soul from you if they find out we’re dating.”
Luke’s eyes got bright and his smile widened (if that was even possible), “Set your bed on fire? And what would we do in your bed for them to feel disgusted by its existence?”
“You’re disgusting. Anyway, if we fake date I’ll get to stop being perceived as their perfect sister and you’ll have bragging rights for dating an Aphrodite kid,” you said, moving your hands as you spoke. 
“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” Luke asked carefully, trying to make you think about what was at stake. He didn’t give a shit about staining his already nonexistent reputation, but he couldn’t have you ruin yours. 
“I am so sure, Castellan,” you reassured him. 
“You know, for a good girl I’m extremely surprised you never say please.”
“Please, Castellan. Could you please be my fake boyfriend so I can finally stop being seen as my siblings' personal toy?” you said with a fake smile while bringing your hands together as an exaggerated way of begging Luke to say yes. 
“You’re so cute when you beg. But you need to prove to me you’re serious about this fake dating thing. Meet me tomorrow at the bonfire, no bullshit.” 
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
You had been on edge the entire day. Silena seemed to be past the argument, which made you feel better to an extent, but that didn’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that settled in your gut because throughout the day you could feel someone staring at you. You could feel Luke staring at you.  
You were walking past the sword fighting arena with Katie Gardner from the Demeter Cabin the first time it happened. The feeling of a pair of eyes completely set on you. You turned your head to the right just to be met with Luke’s exhausted figure, he was sweating and panting, but that didn’t stop him from running his eyes up and down your figure and smiling at you. 
To say Katie was disgusted would be an understatement. A “Castellan is a dick, you should stay away from him,” was enough to stop you from staring at him and turning your head back to Katie. She went on to explain how Luke was a “real shitty person” and only hooked up with her as a way of getting her to grow weed in the back of the stables. 
It happened around eight times in the last two hours (not that you were counting) and it only got worse when the moon came up and everyone was making their way to the bonfire. You were walking next to Michael Yew when you felt a hand on your lower back. 
Luke’s hand on your lower back, to be exact. He left it there as he walked past you, only turning his head back to say “It’s adorable to see you together, are you two a couple?” 
You had to hold yourself back from strangling him when you heard his irritating laugh after he saw Michael’s reaction to his statement. Michael tried his best to be polite and tell him he was wrong, that there was nothing going on between the two of you. 
But his reply only seemed to fuel Luke’s actions even more because all he did was answer with a cocky “Oh, I know. Our princess here is only into... what was it? People that like to slowly kill themselves with cigarettes?” before walking away.
You were going to kill him.
Michael left your side as soon as you arrived, moving to sit with his siblings from the Apollo Cabin… leaving you with two choices: sitting with your siblings or sitting next to Luke (who for some reason always sat alone and spent the entire time listening to the music coming from the MP3 player he somehow managed to get into camp). 
So this is what Luke meant, you thought. This was the only way you could prove to him and everyone that you were serious about dating him—fake dating him—but it's not like they would ever know the truth.
You dragged your feet as you walked towards Luke, clearly having second thoughts about your plan, but there was no turning back now. You tried to ignore the confused look Drew was giving you and the gasps you could hear coming from your siblings. 
“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” You weren't so sure anymore but that didn’t stop you from taking a seat next to Luke Castellan, who took one of his earphones off and looked at you with a smile. 
“Happy now? I just proved how serious I am about this,” you whispered to him, trying your best to not let anyone hear you.
Luke nodded before saying, “You could’ve done better, but I’ll take it.”
“Done better? I just sat next to you in front of the entire camp, isn’t this good enough for you?” you asked, indignation evident in your tone. 
“Promise not to beat me up?” Luke said before pulling your arm and manhandling your body so you were on top of him, sitting on his lap. He placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you with stars in his eyes.
“Wow, Castellan. How scandalous, I’m sitting on your lap,” you deadpanned. 
He chuckled, bringing you closer to him and pressing his lips against yours. Luke’s hands felt like fire against your skin, all you could feel was a heat taking all over your body as he continued to kiss you, only pulling away to catch his breath before bringing you in for another one, this time he kissed you deeper and faster. 
Luke dragged you closer to him by pressing your hips against his and all you could do was melt into him and the feeling of his lips against yours. In the distance, you could hear gasps and people gagging, and you were pretty sure the campers from the Ares Cabin were cheering and whistling, but all your thoughts were on Luke Castellan and how good of a kisser he is.
You pulled away first this time, trying to steady your breathing as you looked into his eyes. He licked his lips before whispering “We should go.”
Your eyes widened as soon as he said that, the implications of what the sentence meant making you feel nervous. Luke was quick to reassure you, “If we leave, your siblings will be even more outraged. We don’t have to do anything, but they’ll think we are doing…some stuff. Just come to the woods with me for a little while.” 
You nodded and grabbed his hand as he guided you through the woods. You could hear Silena calling out your name and warning you about the consequences of your actions, but her voice was drowned out by the loud cheers coming from Clarisse.
Once the two of you were far enough from the rest of the campers, Luke let go of your hand and sat down by the lake, nodding his head as a way of asking you to join him.
You sat in silence for a few minutes until Luke spoke first. “How long do you think we should keep this thing up?”
“Valentina and Drew will want us to be over by tonight,” you said with a smile, a laugh escaping your lips. You didn’t notice how Luke’s eyes got brighter when he heard your laugh or how the melody that came out of your lips went straight through his heart and made him feel more alive.
“But I think a week should be enough. We can say we’ve been secretly dating for like... five months? That way it won’t be weird if we break up in a week,” you explained while your fingers played with your camp necklace. 
Luke nodded before going silent again, staring at the lake with a look you couldn’t quite comprehend. Your gaze was set on him, your eyes traveling from his toned arms, all the way to the scar that sat right below his right eye. 
“I know it’s awful, I can feel you staring at it,” he murmured. You could physically feel your heart sinking when he said it. You cleared your throat, “No, I… I think it’s beautiful. I think you’re—” Luke turned his head to face you, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “I think you’re really brave, Luke.” 
“Beautiful?” Luke asked, confusion written all over his face. “You should hear what your siblings say about it, then. I’m sure your opinion would change in a second.” 
“Being an Aphrodite kid means you see beauty everywhere,” you explained, “And I think your scar must be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Luke stared at you with an unreadable expression, making your heart almost beat out of your chest. 
“Are you flirting with me, angel?”
“Of course, you’d ruin the moment. Screw you, man.” You rolled your eyes. 
Luke threw his head back in a fit of laughter, it made you want to strangle him… again. “Did you just say screw you? Gods, princess, saying fuck won’t kill you.” 
“I don’t like to curse, thank you for pointing it out, Castellan,” you said, playfully shoving him, making him fake a gasp. 
“You went from trying to seduce me to trying to kill me, you’re so interesting, angel,” he said before letting out a sigh. “It, uh… It was really hard at first, getting used to the scar.”
“Having people call it all sorts of names, and looking at me with nothing but pity in their eyes was not easy to get used to. But after some time you just… stop caring. I mean, I’m not that big of an asshole to hold a grudge over a fucking scar, it even looks sick. But yeah, when it gets hard again all I can do is snort a line and move on.
“The coke smuggling was real?” you gasped, only focusing on the last sentence he said. Luke tried to keep a straight face but his facade fell the moment he noticed your wide eyes. Luke Castellan has the type of laugh that makes everything get fuzzy and makes you feel lightheaded, and all you wanted to do was to come up with bad jokes just for the sole reason of hearing him do it again. 
“Fuck, you really believe anything, huh?”
“Shut up, Castellan. I’ll literally stab you and let you slowly bleed to death,” you threatened, standing up from your place next to him. Luke followed you as you walked back to the cabins.
“You do know I’m the best swordsman in the last 300 years, right? Do you even know how to wield a sword?” he asked, matching your pace and walking next to you. 
“Low blow, just because I don’t like to indulge in violence it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to wield a sword,” you retorted. 
Luke snorted a laugh, “You don’t know, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Will you shut up now?”
“I only will if you accept to let me teach you how to fight tomorrow,” Luke said with a tilt to his head. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer because he walked away from you while saying a loud “Meet me tomorrow morning in the sword fighting arena.” 
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
You were sure you were seconds away from passing out. It's been around two hours of sparring with Luke and your arms and legs were about to give out. The sun was starting to come out, which meant this torture was nearly over. At least that’s what Luke promised. “We’ll stop as soon as the other campers wake up, that way you won’t have to be embarrassed if they see your… skills.”
The two of you circled each other, your swords were raised and Luke’s blade was pointing straight at you. Luke took a second to study your stance before lunging forward, his sword meeting yours as you quickly blocked his attack. “Not too bad, huh?” Luke teased before trying to get another hit, his moves becoming more calculated the longer you kept blocking his advances. Proving he wasn’t called the best swordsman at camp for nothing. 
With a disarming maneuver you weren’t aware of, Luke was quick to throw your sword to the ground and have you stumbling back, not being able to regain your footing. Luke gave you a smirk when your body hit the ground with a small thud, “That was easy,” he said, “We should do this more often.” 
“Nope, this is a one-time thing, Castellan,” Luke rolled his eyes before bringing the blade of his sword closer to you, reaching for your chin with a glint in his eyes. The blade met your chin and Luke lifted it, making you meet his gaze as he slowly made you stand up by raising his sword even higher. 
The two of you stood still, staring intently into each other’s eyes until you heard it—the sound of the Ares Cabin making their way to the arena. Luke let out a surprised shit, dropped his sword to the ground, and walked closer to you, cupping your jaw with his right hand and kissing you. 
Your lips met in a hurried collision, causing the same fire from yesterday to set in your stomach. Your hands moved to Luke’s hair, softly pulling it as the kiss got heated. You knew this was fake, you knew this kiss meant nothing to him… but you didn’t want him to stop. “Holy fuck, are you two always sucking each other’s faces?” Clarisse’s voice cut through the moment, causing you to pull away from Luke, unable to meet his gaze. 
“Yeah, that’s what being in a relationship entails. I don’t think you’d know much about it, La Rue,” Luke breathes out.
“Don’t you have weed to sell or a cheap bottle of vodka to down, Castellan?” 
“Aw, you know me so well,” Luke answered before picking up both of your swords and grabbing your hand, walking away from the arena. 
The following days were (and you hated to admit it) filled with the most fun you’ve ever had. Luke would come up with some insane idea for a fake date and it would always end with one of you lying about seeing a camper or hearing Silena’s voice as an excuse to make out with each other. 
There was this one time the two of you were having a picnic by the strawberry fields and the day ended with the two of you hiding in the empty forge while making out, running your hands over each other’s bodies, and doing the normal stuff fake couples always do… it all happened because Luke swore he heard Valentina’s voice near the fields. (You were sure Valentina had been on the stables that entire day because she had cleaning duty, but why wouldn’t you play along with something you also wanted to do?)  
It was Sunday–the last day of your fake relationship–when Silena finally found the guts to talk to you about Luke. You even felt slightly bad for the girl because she was so nervous when she sat next to you in the dining pavilion. 
“I..um... I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she began, “Well, there are lots of things for me to apologize for, but I think it’s pretty obvious what the main problem is.” 
“The way I’ve been treating you is not okay and I’m really ashamed of it. You shouldn’t have to feel pressured to be the person we want you to be, I used to see you as someone who couldn’t do things on her own and always needed someone to push her and help her handle everything… and now I see I was wrong,” Silena explained, running a hand through her hair. 
“It’s fine, Silena. I don’t mind.”
“Well, I do. You’re strong and more than capable of doing things on your own, and you don’t need me to try and help you or fix you.” She took a deep breath. “I didn't know you were dating Luke, and to be honest I didn’t even know he was your type. He is so… weird and I never would’ve guessed you were dating. I mean, Drew told me he does cocaine and—”
“He doesn’t,” you interrupted.
Silena raised a brow before continuing, “Anyway, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad for just... existing. And you always look so happy after hanging out with Luke, I truly hope the two of you stay together for a long time.” 
You didn’t even know how to explain the situation so you just blurted out “I broke up with him.” 
Silena looked shocked for a few seconds before letting out a deep breath, “Oh, thank the gods. Just because we trust you it doesn’t mean we trust him,” she spat the him with so much disgust it made you feel sick. “You deserve so much better.” 
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
This is probably the first time you have ever felt ill at the thought of seeing Luke. Sure, you used to be annoyed by his presence before the whole fake dating situation even started, but at least you were a strange type of friends back then. Not really close but also not complete strangers. There were times you’d catch him hiding his secret stash of weed behind the stables and didn’t tell anyone, and he’d always pay you back by lying to Chiron about you practicing your sword skills with him. (You had only used a sword once and it was years ago when you were still a new camper, you had no idea why Chiron would ever believe him.)
Luke was sitting in his usual spot by the lake, a cigarette in his hand. It had become a tradition for the two of you to always meet up by the lake before curfew to talk about your day and practice your kissing so it wouldn’t look fake. 
“Hey,” you said, taking a seat next to him. Luke threw his cigarette to the ground, stepped on it, and almost instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your temple. “Blink-182?” you asked, nodding at the MP3 he had on his lap. 
“The Smashing Pumpkins,” Luke answered, taking his earphones off. “Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness is one of the best albums ever made.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’ll take your word for it,” you said. Luke smiled and poked your side. 
“So, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” you began, but Luke held up his hand as a way to get you to stop.
“Can I say something first?” he asked, looking shy for probably the first time since the day you met him. 
You nodded and let him take the lead of the conversation. “Alright, so… I’m kind of shit with words so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but this past week has probably been the best week of my life. And I’m not even fucking around, I don’t have many friends–apart from Annabeth, and getting to be with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“Being your friend is the greatest gift the gods have ever given me, and sometimes I feel like I don’t even deserve it. I’m a mess of a person, and you’re well… you’re you,” Luke stared deeply into your eyes, “And I just wanted to let you know that—”
Luke didn’t get to finish his sentence because this time it was you who cut him off with a kiss. You could taste the cigarette on his lips as he brought you closer to him, running a hand down your back and deepening the kiss before pulling away and moving to kiss your neck. 
Luke began to trail kisses down your throat and only stopped to whisper a low “Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.”
Aphrodite.
You pushed him away the moment you remembered your mother. “Silena apologized. We can stop pretending now.”
Luke was silent and just stared at you, his fingers moving to fidget with the wire of his earphones. “Oh, right,” he cleared his throat. “It’s Sunday, I forgot.”
You knew he didn’t.
“Yup, so we can go back to normal now,” you said, looking away from his eyes because you knew it would only take one look into them for you to kiss him again.
“Good,” Luke stood up, not daring to even shoot you a glance, and walked away. Leaving you alone by the lake with the lingering smell of his cheap stolen cologne mixed with the cigarette he was smoking. 
It didn’t help that you were welcomed into your cabin with hugs and your siblings congratulating you for breaking up with the son of Hermes. Sure, you weren’t the perfect sister anymore because you dated Luke Friendless-Freak Castellan, but knowing they liked you just because you were with him and then broke his heart made you want to set the cabin on fire. 
The main rule of the Aphrodite Cabin was something your siblings were extremely proud of, but the thought of its existence made you want to storm into Mount Olympus by yourself and yell at your mother for putting all these useless ideas into their heads. 
For a child of Aphrodite to prove themselves, they must make someone fall in love with them and then break that someone's heart. 
Is it possible for the rule to backfire? For the child of Aphrodite to accidentally fall in love with someone and then break their own heart because of it? You didn’t even know if that was an option, but you were sure that’s exactly what you were going through right now. 
It was hard for you to go to sleep that night because your mind kept replaying the past week on a loop. Your conversation with Luke by your cabin. The night of the bonfire. The conversation by the lake about his scar. Sparring with him. Going on a million fake dates. The night on the forge. Your last conversation with him. 
“Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.” 
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
You could feel Luke staring at you. Again. 
You were helping Annabeth strategize for Capture The Flag, because she had the brilliant idea to have the Athena cabin team up with Hermes and Aphrodite. You didn’t know much about fighting and spent most of the time sitting with your sisters during the game, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy helping them come up with new plans. 
Once the three of you were done, Annabeth excused herself with an awkward “I think Malcolm wanted me to help him go through some maps. You two have fun… chatting!” and left as fast as she could, leaving you alone with Luke. 
You watched her leave the amphitheater and turned around to face Luke, “I can see why you like her. She’s so much like you.”
“Yeah, she’s like my little sister.”
The silence was so uncomfortable you almost broke down crying. You nodded and turned around, not being strong enough to face him, and walked away. You could hear him behind you, following you.
“Can we talk?” he pleaded.
You were about to open your mouth when Drew’s voice made you turn your head. “Gods, Castellan. It’s so embarrassing to still be hung up on your ex.” 
Luke sighed, “Hello to you too, Tanaka.” 
“Can you leave her alone? She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Drew said through a fake smile. 
“Oh, really? Did she tell you that?” Luke answered, tilting his head as he spoke and making eye contact with you. Wordlessly begging you to please talk to him. 
You stayed silent and looked away from him. Luke let out an incredulous laugh before nodding his head. “Good to know you’re back to being their little pet.” 
Drew rolled her eyes and walked away, shoving Luke as she walked past him. “So? You’re just not going to say anything?” Luke said. 
“What do you want me to say, Castellan?” 
“Tell me that last week didn’t mean anything to you,” Luke answered, his voice trembling. 
“Why do you care? I thought I was nothing but Drew’s little pet,” you replied, trying your best to not look weak in front of him.
Luke ran a hand through his hair and stepped closer to you, “I’m sure you’re thinking the exact same thing about yourself.” 
You hated that he was right.
The truth made your blood boil. “I don’t want any of your shit,” Luke let out a genuine laugh this time, a mocking look in his eyes. “Oh, so now she can curse?” 
You hated him for seeing the real you. You hated him for knowing the truth. You hated yourself for loving him.
“Fuck you, Castellan,” Luke hummed before stepping even closer to you and placing a hand on your waist, leaning to whisper in your ear. “I’m sure you’d love to do that again, right?” Luke’s smell was taking all over your senses and making your knees go weak. He continued, “Because even if we do it in the darkness of the Forge… it is still two friends fake dating because your mother might be watching.” 
You found the strength to press your hands against his chest and push him away, “Don’t talk to me ever again.” 
You spent the rest of the day with your siblings and friends, too afraid to leave their side because you didn’t trust yourself. Because you knew that if you were left alone for a second—you’d run straight to him. 
You sat next to Silena in the dining pavilion. Helped Katie and the Dyonisus cabin grow more strawberries by keeping them company. Walked with Michael to the bonfire, and stayed with Drew throughout the entire singalong. 
As always, Luke was sitting by himself, his MP3 player in his hand and his eyes were set on you. 
You walked back to your cabin when the singalong was over and helped your siblings get ready for bed. You were about to go to sleep when Valentina whispered your name, saying she had something for you.
“We found it last night under your bed, Drew wanted to give it to the harpies but I managed to take it away from her,” a frown made its way to your face.”What do you mean?”
“We found this,” She pulled out a badly wrapped gift from under her pillows. You were confused until she told you to open it.
 It was a bright pink MP3 player. 
“Oh,” you whispered, your hands shook as you stared at it. “I’ve got to—”
“It’s okay,” Valentina whispered. “He’s probably by the lake.”
You gave your half-sister a hug before running out of your cabin, and making your way to the lake. You could see Luke’s silhouette in the distance, and the sight only made you run faster.
You took a moment to catch your breath before saying, “The Smashing Pumpkins?”
Luke turned around at the sound of your voice. “Blink-182” he answered with a small smirk.
“Uh, of course,” you said as you walked closer to him. “Alright, listen. You were right.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you continued with a smile. “So, it turns out I may or may not be in love with this certain guy, and he may or may not be my type or whatever it is my siblings say.”
Luke took a step closer to you. “There’s a chance this guy thinks I’m going through a phase and only fake dated him to piss off my siblings and mother but the truth is… I don’t even care about them whenever I’m with him.” 
His hand moved to caress your cheek, “That’s cute and all but how does this guy know you truly mean that?” 
“I’m not going to make out with him at the bonfire, so I guess all he needs to do is believe me,” you whispered, your eyes moving from Luke’s eyes to his lips.
Luke smiled before answering, “Believe you? That’s alright with me,” and pressing his lips to yours.
Luke was right. Aphrodite would be proud. 
929 notes · View notes
gasstationlady · 7 months
Text
GUTS | a lando norris social media au | pt. 2
pairing: lando norris x singer!reader, ex!drew starkey x reader
drew is still hung up on y/n, but the grid’s new it couple couldn’t care less.
notes: final part of guts!! thank you so much for all the love you guys showed the first part <3 and dw i have so many more smaus in the drafts! tried to write and add a bit more but i ran out of space :/ i hope the plot makes sense! i feel like bc i know how i wanted the story to go i can't rlly spot the plot holes as easily.
disclaimer: NOT PROOFREAD. let's pretend that jennifer lawrence "kym illman" picture is olivia lmfaooo. btw the events in “GUTS” sometimes does not line up with the schedule followed in real life. again, no hate to drew and, now also, to ppl on the today show aha. (CONGRATS LANDO FOR P2 AHHH)
masterlist ⋆ previously
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, drewstarkey and 4,810,592 others
yourusername thanks for having me vmas!!!! <3
View all 22,504 comments
yourbestie STUNNING
user pls not drew liking her post when he doesn’t even follow her 😭😭😭
↳ user no he’s actually so painfully desperate lmaoo
↳ user i’m glad lando and y/n are just ignoring him
↳ user girl i’m not, i want the drama AHA
user love u more than anything
user lando liking and the two of them now following each other 🤔 yup him and y/n are forrr sure together
↳ user yea after the deuxmoi post and lando’s soft launch it’s basically confirmed at this point
↳ user i wonder if she’ll be attending the next gp bc i’d actually die and then come back to life if it happens
user you look BEYONDDDDD 😍😍
user are we fr just gonna ignore drew like..
thetodayshow
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liked by landonorris and 67,298 others
thetodayshow It’s GUTS day! We loved having @/yourusername on the TODAY plaza. 🍒🎤🧡
We sat with Y/N to talk about her new album and recent scandals surrounding the topics of her work. “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.”
Tune in on our Youtube channel for extra clips of our interview with Y/N and her performances!
View all 342 comments
user SHE ATE THOSE PERFORMANCES. DEVOURED.
user some of those questions were a bit invasive
↳ user i was thinking the same thing, but y/n handled that rlly professionally
user omg how have her vocals gotten better 😭
user lmaoooooo i see you hiding in the likes lando
↳ user it’s so cute that he’s following her activities 🥹🥹
↳ user he’s probably here bc of what she said in the interview
↳ user wait i didn’t watch everything, what did she say??
↳ user so they asked how she felt about her exes being a popular topic on the internet, and so she said “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.” they also asked about drew and whether they’re going to get back together (which, may i add, felt a little rude to me) and y/n replied with “Those who I’m close with can reach me anytime. I tend to not focus on anyone else.”
↳ user thank you for summarizing!! doing god’s work fr 🫡
user y/n handled the situation perfectly
↳ user no bc the way she said not too much but enough to stand up for herself and her privacy
user AHAHAHAHA SHE RLLY SAID AINT NO WAY SHES GOING BACK TO DREW
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ynupdates
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ynupdates Y/n seen arriving in Singapore!
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user wait you’re lying??? actually? waaait 😭
user IS SHE GOING TO THE GP OMG PLS
user i mean i knew they were together but imagine a paddock appearance 😩😩 i don’t think we can handle it guys
user if she makes an appearance at the paddock with lando, i don’t understand why he didn’t just go as her date for the vmas too 😭😭
↳ user i doubt they wanted to hard launch at the vmas lol y/n was barely even in the audience, tbh i think she left early
↳ user y/n has said before that award shows make her rlly anxious, so yea she probably didn’t want too much attention on herself esp with all the drew drama
user did i miss something, i thought lando was still in ny? why didn’t they just travel together?
↳ user lando probs had to leave earlier bc practice started on friday, and y/n still had a few tv show performances which i’m assuming is why she arrived today instead
kymillman
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51,159 likes
kymillman F1’S NEW FAVORITE COUPLE
The first driver to arrive this morning was Mclaren driver Lando Norris. For the first time he is joined with his new girlfriend, Y/N L/N, a famous Filipino-American pop singer.
For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com
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user omg it’s happening it’s happening
user HEY SIRI PLAY THAT SHOULD BE ME BY JUSTIN BIEBER
user this pic should be put in the louvre that is how monumental it is
user THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT?? FROM KYM??😭😭
user first💔hard💔launch💔is💔a💔paddock💔appearance💔
user the hand holding 🥹🥹
user don’t know if i’m more jealous of lando or y/n
user damn god really out here choosing favorites
user they’re already becoming my comfort couple omg i can’t i love them so much
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landonorris
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,135,226 others
landonorris Singapore 🥈
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user so proud of you lando!!
user AHHHH y/n cameo
user god idk if i'm ever going to get used to seeing y/n with lando
user SHE LOOKS SO GOOD
user yay carlando podium !!! 🥹
— — —
8 months later
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, yourbestie and 4,475,987 others
landonorris Happy one year, love ❤️
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yourusername there's nothing i love more than those chips
↳ landonorris 😐
user they're the reason i believe in love
user damn i think this is about to be lando's most liked post lmaoo
user the fact that he calls her love 😭😭
user luckiest man alive i stg
user how does she always look so good
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 6,788,335 others
yourusername cause i love to love, to love, to love you
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landonorris that guy's pretty handsome
↳ yourusername very :)
yourbestie LOVE seeing you happy
user omggg i'm crying i can't believe its already been a year
user might sleep on the freeway today
user let the light in is such a cute song to dedicate to someone
user LOL not the third pic
user i love them so much 🥹
user if you ever break up, love isn't real
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justhereforthemeta · 8 months
Text
Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight
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Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)
This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!
On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.
@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.
Continued below the cut...
Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.
Shax: “You’re in trouble”
A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”
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Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.
And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.
There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.
1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).
Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:
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Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:
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And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.
There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball. 
Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.
Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.
For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.
So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.
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Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.
But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.
Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché. 
Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. 
And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.
In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.
My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:
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is actually this:
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Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967: 
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whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:
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…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:
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That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once. 
Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat. 
Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).
Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.
Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution. 
Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.
‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!? 
I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.
(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)
When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.
From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.
This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.
In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.
Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save. 
“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”
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e-m-ma-lmfao · 8 months
Note
PLS YOU NEED TO WRITE MORE FICS ABOUT ASTARION the one you did was so good and cute ☹️☹️ i love it
Let Me Clean Your Wounds
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pairing : astarion x (fem) reader
summary : a long week of hard work leaves your party tired and injured. you offer to clean astarions and to your surprise, he accepts.
warnings : talk about blood.
a/n : thank you anon :0 i STILL have not played baldurs gate (so i apologize again for my lack of knowledge).
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It had been an incredibly long week. 
It started by someone in the party pointing out that you had no more money left. So you had to spend your days doing odd jobs for people in the nearby town. 
However, a few of them had failed to mention the fact that their job requests could end up harming you in more ways than one. An easy job, like gathering fruit for an old lady who can’t venture out that far anymore, suddenly turned into fighting a hag in the woods for trespassing on her property. 
The compensation received was hardly enough for the injuries you and your party would gather on your bodies throughout the day. 
As powerful as your group was, being caught off guard by some giant creature in the woods left you at a disadvantage. And when calmly mentioned to the people of the village, suggesting that their pay be higher for sending you to do such strenuous tasks so they wouldn’t be attacked themselves, they threw their arms up to you. 
Calling you greedy and saying you were trying to steal their gold. Of course that didn’t sit well with the nearby guards, and while jumping to conclusions without any investigation, you were thrown in a cell. Not all your party, just you, as the leader. 
You weren’t released until a member of your party persuaded them, using the gold you had just earned from the townspeople’s ridiculous jobs. 
So you packed up your camp, and ventured out to find another village. One where you hadn’t been put behind bars for scheming and trying to steal gold from the elderly. 
When you found a nice spot, and a town that looked to have more than enough gold to go around, you set up camp in the nearby woods. The townspeople were less than friendly, but at least they were honest about their jobs. 
They made it abundantly clear that they would not be handing out charity and that you had to work for the gold you earned. That turned out to be a challenge after a few jobs had been completed , and it had clicked that your party has been consistently acquiring injuries over the last few days. 
Your party was down in power. You were lacking in energy, and it was showing in the way your attacks would fly but often miss or hit with not much force behind them. 
So after completing one last job, and buying some fresh meat from the town, you decided to rest. Finally caving into the exhaustion, you felt almost weak when Lae’zel complained about stopping. But nobody else seemed to have any complaints. 
Lae’zel was hasty to eat, along with almost everybody else in the party. They got a fire started and the warmth hugged your body, but while scanning over everyone’s face you realized just how rough your condition had become . 
Everyone seemed to be holding up all right, you weren’t too worried, but as you looked in closer you noticed Astarion was seated farther away from the fire picking at his skin. 
Curious, you left the warmth of the fire and wandered over to him. 
“Mind if I sit?” 
“No, well, not much. But I don’t think you’d listen if I said I did.” You shook your head at him before taking a seat beside him. 
His face was pretty bruised up, cuts on his cheek and lip. And his arms were covered with scratches that it was continuing to pick at. 
You took another glance before standing up and walking back over to your own tent to grab some bandages, your flask of water, and a rag of some sort to wipe his wounds. When you came back he stared at you with amusement in his eyes. 
“What exactly are you planning to do with all that, darling?” 
“You're covered in cuts, have to clean them up so they don’t scar your pretty face. Let me clean your wounds?” You tried not to let the pet name have any effect over you, but you were sure your thoughts were showing through your cheeks. His hand moved to touch his cheek, as if he didn’t believe that he truly did have any injuries, wincing as his finger brushed against a larger cut. 
“You’re seriously worried about me when you’re in the same condition? For the love of the gods , you were thrown in a cell this week and you're truly worried about some cuts on my cheeks?”
“May I?” You held the rag up in your hands, pouring some water over it. He nodded, hesitantly of course, but he allowed it anyway. 
Gently, you placed the dampened rag over his cuts, wiping away at the dried blood and layer of dirt covering his pale skin. His brows furrowed, the sight causing you to let out a giggle. Usually, Astarion was very closed off, so being this close to him and him allowing you to help him was sort of new to you. 
“Why are you laughing? I’m in pain and your ..giggling?” He tried to be stern and serious, his usual facade, but a small smile was playing at the corner of his lip.  
“I’m sorry,” You let out another giggle as you swiped away at his skin and his eyebrows furrowed once more, “It’s just cute, I’ve never seen your face scrunch up like that.”
He seemed to pause, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. You were being serious. You thought he was cute, when he was covered in blood and dirt. Him showing a little weakness , you thought it was cute? 
“What? I know my face is probably dirty.” You rubbed at your cheek with your free hand, conscious of your appearance as his gaze lingered on your face. He didn’t care though, he was too busy thinking about your words. 
“Cute is an absurd word to use when describing someone like me. I’m too handsome to be described in such ..simple terms.” His smirk returned to his face, your mouth now agape unsure of whether he was serious or not. 
“C’mon now Astarion, I never said you weren’t handsome. I just said you were cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” The rag sat in your lap, his face was clean, his cuts just needed a little cover up. 
“So you do think I’m handsome?” He leaned in closer , his voice captivating. 
“Well I never said that either.” You placed your hand on his chest to distance yourself , ripping off a piece of the bandaging in your hands and manipulating it into place on his cheek. 
He wore a subtle pout on his lips but when you moved in close and kissed his cheek, in a moment of boldness,  it soon fell away. 
Astarion’s hands brushed against your own, taking the damp rag and pouring more water onto the other unused end. 
“My turn, darling.” The rag, making contact with your skin, made goosebumps appear on your skin. It was colder than you expected, and you knew there had to be small cuts littering your face by the way it stung. Your face must have tensed because he took his turn to laugh at you. 
“You know, you are very beautiful, even with your face all scrunched up.” He was mocking you. obviously, but his voice mixed with his compliments made your cheeks flush. 
A final swipe along your cheek and he pulls the rag away, “There. All clean, my dear.” 
His hand reached out to cup your cheek, but before the act became too intimate, he changed his course and ran his hand along the side of your hair to flatten it down. 
“You really are quite pretty .” He knew his words had such a serious effect on you, as you never tried to hide the fact that your feelings for him were far from platonic interest. It was so weird seeing him be so friendly, and flirty in a way that wasn’t meant to manipulate.
“Would you stop? It’s not nice to tease y'know.” 
“And who told you I was teasing, my dear? Was it Lae’zel cause I’ve always thought she might have a thing for me.” He laughed at the end of his sentence, joking. “I would never tease a woman as pretty as you, that would be very cruel of me.” 
“Do you want to join me by the fire?” His gaze shifted to look at the group seated around the fire, he seemed to ponder before looking back at you with furrowed brows. 
“I can smell their horrible odor from here.” You huffed, pushing his shoulder. He looked once more, and seemed to ponder some more but his face was hard enough to read when he wasn’t looking away from you. 
Astarion groaned, ringing out the wet rag still sitting in his hands. “That is not an answer, Astarion. I’m cold, and the fire looks so nice.”
“Fine, if we must, we can go,” You smiled down at him as you stood but it was replaced with a look of shock when he pulled you to sit back down, “On one simple condition.” 
You rolled your eyes, “What could you possibly want from me?” 
He stayed silent for a second, but as he noticed you becoming increasingly impatient he began to speak.
“A kiss. Not a petty one, and not on my cheek. I mean a real one.” You were flush in the face once more. He seemed totally serious, a permanent smirk painted on his face, but his eyes stared into your own without any sign of humor. You honestly thought he might be mocking you. 
“Okay. I can do that. Easy, but only if you’re nice and say please.” 
“Now who’s teasing.” You only stared at him, sternly. If he wanted to act like a child, and demand rewards in order to complete simple tasks, then you could tease him like one. “Fine. Please…pretty please.”
Your eyes widened, you didn’t think you had ever heard him say please to anyone, let alone add in a “pretty”.
 He didn’t move, he was entirely dead set on this. His face was close enough to yours that you didn’t have to shuffle very far. As gently as you could, in case he decided that he was joking and pulled away, you placed your hands on his face.
One hand cupping his cheek, fingertips rubbing at the hairs falling delicately in front of his ears, the other near the bottom of his cheek and holding onto his jaw. Slowly, you pulled him in until your lips met his. You still weren’t entirely convinced that he was serious, but when his fingers entangled in your hair and pulled you in deeper, you had a hunch that he might not be joking. 
He didn’t let you pull away until he was entirely satisfied. Your breath was heavy, and your skin was hotter than before in multiple ways. 
“I haven’t had a meaningful one in a long time, darling. Thank you.”
“Should we go sit by the fire?” You stood up, legs wavering before stiffening, and you offered him out your hand. He took it in his large one, following you to the fire, sitting beside you. There was a heavy silence, causing you to look around and see everybody's eyes already on you. 
“What?”
“If you guys are gonna keep sucking each other's faces, could you please do it in a tent? You made me lose my appetite.”
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its-time-to-write · 11 months
Note
hi! Could you please write something with like reader opening the door one day when Roy stars knocking for training but reader and Jamie aren’t open about their relationship yet? I think it would be cute xx
I also thought this was cute. Not sure if anyone notices/cares, but all my titles are song lyrics based ever so loosely on the vibe I am trying to convey. Thanks for another great request!
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what it is
Someone’s aggressively knocking on the door and as you roll over to check the time. It’s 4am, and you poke Jamie who is fast asleep beside you.
“Babe,” you whisper, “someone’s at the door.”
Jamie groans and mumbles something incoherent. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell something’s off. You reach out your hand and feel his forehead. It’s burning up.
The knocking continues and Jamie lets out another groan and says something that sounds like raining? Oh. Training. You remember he trains every morning at 4, but you’ve never seen who he goes with. He just kisses you in your sleep and is back right as you wake up for the day. 
You roll out of bed, grab one his sweatshirts from the floor, and pad downstairs to the door.
You swing open the door mid-knock. The man on the other side lowers his fist, looks at you all squinty for a moment, then says, “Who the fuck’re you?”
You return the look. “I live here. Who the fuck are you?”
The man scoffs. “No, you fucking don’t. This is Jamie Tartt’s house. Jesus fucking Christ, is he fucking blowing off training because of a fucking one-night stand?”
Oh. You know who this is. This is Roy Kent. You didn’t know he was the one training Jamie, but you guess it makes sense based on how much Jamie talks about him. It’s Roy Kent this, and Roy Kent that, and Roy says I need to eat more protein, and Roy said my hair looked funny today, does it look funny to you? 
You sigh. You and Jamie have been together for three months, and you basically live at his house. You’re really only at your flat to change clothes. You have a toothbrush, pajamas, and half a wardrobe at Jamie’s. Your books have started to make their way onto his shelves too, as you read them and then leave them for him to start. That was a little bit of an accident at first, after you left This Side of Paradise one night and came back to a different bookmark on page 34.
Anyway, Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re dating Jamie, or that anyone is. You suppose in his mind, Jamie is happily single, fucking around like the twenty-something year old footballer he is. 
Roy is still looking at you expectantly, so say, “I do live here. Why don’t you come in?” and hold open the door a bit wider. 
Roy’s face says fuck it, and he follows you inside to the kitchen. 
“Can I get you some tea?” you ask quietly, although Jamie can sleep through anything. 
Roy seems surprised by the question, but says, “Yeah, sure,” as he stands by the kitchen island.
“Jamie’s sick,” you say. “He’s still asleep upstairs. I doubt he’ll be up for training today.”
“Right, yeah,” says Roy, “I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you? Jamie’s not fucking supposed to be doing the whole one-night stand thing, he told me it’s too fucking distracting from training.”
You chuckle. “That’s comedy gold right there. Yeah, no, I’m not a one-night stand. I’m his girlfriend.”
Roy’s impressive eyebrows lift in shock, and you laugh again and give him your name. “Didn’t know I existed, did you? I’m not one for crowds or a big fuss. I told Jamie if we made it four months than he could start telling people. He was a little upset, but,” you shrug, “no point in making it a big deal if we just break up, right?”
You can practically see the wheels turning in Roy’s brain as he does the math.
“So you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking dating this little prick for three fucking months, and he hasn’t fucking said anything?”
You nod. 
“Fuckkk,” Roy whispers, “that makes so much fucking sense.”
You quirk an eyebrow at him.
“He’s been less of a prick recently,” Roy explains, “More considerate, been carrying around fucking books and shit. Not fucking flirting with everything that fucking moves. Thought maybe he was just taking beating Zava too fucking seriously.”
You nod and move to pour the tea. You and Roy both turn as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. It’s Jamie, who is wearing a headlamp, pajama shirt, athletic vest, and a single sock. And, thank God, pants.
“Ready for training coach,” he says with a salute, but the action almost makes him fall over. He looks all pale and sweaty, with bags under his eyes.
“Told you he was sick,” you say.
“Fuckin’ hell,” is all Roy can come up with.
Jamie seems to notice you for the first time and breaks out into a smile. “Roy! Look! I have a girlfriend,” he says, words a little slurred while pointing to you.
It’s punctuated by a “Jesus Christ,” from Roy as Jamie wobbles, unsteady on his feet from his fever.
“Alright, mister,” you say. “Back to bed.”
Jamie frowns. “Always so mean,” he says. He does an imitation of your voice, “No Jamie, you can’t tell Roy about us. Yes Jamie, I know Roy’s your best friend. No Jamie, I don’t think you love Roy more than me.” He looks at Roy as you sling his arm around your shoulders, supporting him at his waist. He puts his fingertips on your lips as he says, “See what I have to put up with?”
You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as Roy says, “What you have to put up with?”
Jamie is so loopy right now. He lays his head on yours and smiles again. “Look at this. Me two favorite people, finally meeting. You should stay for dinner, coach.”
Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh as you both mutually decide not to point out that it is now 4:30am and dinner is a long, long way away.
“Let’s go get you out of those clothes and into bed,” you say as you start to lead him back to your room. 
Jamie casts a look back at Roy and wiggles his eyebrows. “Babe, you can’t just say things like that in front of granddad. Might give him a heart attack. Old people are such prudes.”
“Go to sleep, Tartt,” Roy says. He looks at you and says softly, “I can see myself out.”
You smile and wave with your free hand. “It was nice to meet you,” you say. “Hopefully we can meet again under more normal circumstances.”
Roy nods once and does what you think is a smile? He turns and heads out the door as you maneuver Jamie upstairs. Jamie Tartt has a girlfriend. And a good one at that. What is the world coming to?
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stariikis · 12 days
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ni-ki as your study date •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
synopsis ; the price you paid for choosing an athletic boyfriend over an academic one? no practical help when you're drowning in mysterious equations and symbols. but at least he's good at comforting the perfectionist in you.
pairing ; athletic!nishimura riki x academic achiever!reader genre ; fluff, established rs wc ; 802 warnings n notes ; dear readers, these two are mentally suffering because one doesn't care and the other cares too much! trigger warning, bio phys chem and math mentioned..
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“-And during PE we played badminton, and Jake hyung was soooo bad today. He kept trying to smash but missed the shuttlecock.” Beside you, with his “I-swear-I’ll-finish-three-chapters-today” Physics textbook hardly opened to the first page, Riki doesn’t stop rambling about the various sports he’s played today. You’ve heard enough about the goals he scored during an impromptu morning game of football. The way his best friend fumbled during a badminton match. How his legs ache from standing in the sun for hours during baseball training. You’re about to tug him out the cafe by his jersey. 
“Are you going to start your notes or what?” You shove him with a lighthearted tone, barely concealing the exasperation behind your words. “All that talk about wanting to finally get an A but you still keep yapping. About sports, no less.” 
Riki rolls his eyes and mock-salutes in your direction. “Yes, ma’am.” 
Taking a sip of your matcha latte, you sigh resolutely and return to examine various electronic configurations. Perhaps now, Riki will leave you in peace… 
Only five minutes later, you’re snapped out of focus with a sheepish nudge. 
“What’s a moment…” “OH my days Nishimura Riki how can you not know what a moment is that’s like basic physics you’re supposed to have known that since we started chapter TWO.” 
Shrinking under your scoldings, he glances back at his textbook, reads the definition and looks back towards you. “I don’t get it.” 
With another heavy sigh, you scoot closer and attempt to explain as simply as you possibly can. However, he’s deliberately distracting you, with playful caresses through your hair and touches of kisses as smooth as silk on your cheek. You’ve got to be turning a beetroot red, but you ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks and continue on. 
“Now repeat what I just said to you.” Refusing to give in to his silly antics, you cross your arms and lean back. Swiping the hair his fingers touched, not too long ago, out the way. 
He pouts, knowing him acting cute is your soft spot. “That’s not fair.” 
“Why?” You press, but relent and hunch back over your notes. “You know what, just focus on relearning your balanced forces. Do you remember what the principles of moments even is?” Oh wait, he doesn’t even know what a moment is. The way he blinks once at his textbook and blinks twice your way proves this. 
“At this point, I’m not dead, you’re more cooked than I am. And I am cooked.” 
Gasping scandalously, he whisper shouts, “You’re literally my academic goal, what are you on? I wish I had the motivation you did. Okay, more like I wish I had your grades, but we both know that’s not happening.” 
He gestures to all the bruises he’s obtained over the past week, scratches and wounds that demonstrate how dedicated he is to all the sports he partakes in. They’re his own personal souveniers. Although most fade quickly, some leave scars burning in his skin, but he’s proud of them all even when you express your concern for him. 
He’s always been like that. Dismissive of concerning matters because he enjoys showing people how strong he is. Internally and externally. The complete opposite of him, one Maths question you get wrong and you start questioning the very bane of your existence. 
You fall into silence, looking back at your notes. You have lost track of where Chemistry starts and ends, your paper copy of the periodic table crumpled and defaced from your bursts of frustration. You may not show it, but there’s so much going on in your head it’s hard to escape the fog you’ve mentally put yourself in. With the crazy STEM course you’ve chosen, you know that you’re definitely on the train tracks with a sign pointing towards a crash site. 
Either you shut yourself out and pass with flying colours, or you enjoy life and fail miserably. There’s no in between. Is it so hard to want to maintain a social life and a healthy relationship, while topping your class and achieving high honours? Perhaps it is. 
Noticing your sudden stillness, Riki panics. “You’re stressing out again. Why are you stressing out again? You’re doing well. Well, compared to me. Should I just do bio? Things with numbers are always complicated..” 
You laugh as he looks back at his noteless textbook. 
“Anyway, I think you’re doing just fine.” Riki murmurs, massaging your back with his hand. “Don’t overwork yourself and you’ll be fine. Just like you were, and always will be. Do you want me to test you?” 
“That’d be nice…” You smile, watching his eyes light up a little too eagerly when he closes his textbook. “But you’re just saying that so you don’t have to study anymore, right?”
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how life be feeling rn, send prayers
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
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going to the beach with Alastor? Sounds fun!
I love rock hunting at the beach 😭
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Alastor being MEAN, Cartoonish violence, Suggestive?
Description: ☝️⬆️
Originally, Alastor doesn't want to go to the beach but after some begging and pleading from you he gives in
He's weak to your puppy eyes and just in general can't tell you no
So he's going to the beach
Alastor is normally content to just soak up some sun at the beach, really relax and enjoy his time
But he's also a little shit who loves to mess with people in any way he can including his S/O
Meeting you and entering a relationship with you has opened up a whole new way for him to play
Alastor knows how good he looks in his beach outfit, the way you blush and stare at him is proof enough
Little does he know you just think his hooves are cute
Not that he doesn't also think you look good
You look delicious
He likes getting those flustered reactions out of you, they're his little reassurances that you're still into him
Of course you are??
He literally strikes coy poses whenever you walk by him, doing everything he can to catch your eye
"Y/N, could you help me with my sunscreen~?"
"Darling, could you fetch me an ice cream cone?"
"Would you be so kind as to get me something to drink? It's so hot out today!"
You're gonna melt
Not that he doesn't spend a good amount of time watching you as well
Will relax in a watertube nearby so that he can stay close to you, listening to your laughter
He watches on with a fond smile as you play in the water with Niffty and Angel, using his tentacles to grab anyone else who looks at you
Uses his sunglasses to hide the fact that he's watching you build a sandcastle with Husk and Vaggie, pretending to sunbathe
"Niffty!! You're destroying it!"
"Bury me! Bury me ALIVE!"
Angel catches him and just assumes Alastor is looking at your ass as you bend over the wrecked remains of your castle
Alastor has the decency to look embarrassed
If you want to fly a kite, then Alastor will stand behind you with the lame excuse that he's helping you
"And your hands on my hips help me how..?"
"I'm simply positioning your body to better hold the kite, my love~"
When you ask him to play volleyball with you, Alastor will make a big show of thinking it over
But as soon as he sees Lucifer and Charlie are your opponents then he's getting up and ready to fucking win
He's going to show off for you for the first few rounds, then it'll dissolve into him and Lucifer competing fiercely
You and Charlie are just standing and watching them at this point, you two even leave to go get food then come back
You'll have to drag him away if you want some time with him because he won't quit
"I should've won, darling! I won that last round..!"
"Yes dear, you won." 😘
Will walk with you along the beach, holding any shells or cool things you find in the sand
Won't warn you when the tide is coming in though, laughing when you come back to him looking like a soaked kitten
Isn't laughing when you throw him in but he makes sure to take you down with him
Now both of you are soaked, laying together in the water and smiling at each other while holding in your laughter
And if he rolls you over and kisses you, then that's your business
You two walk back wet and covered in sand, which is a lot less fun than you anticipated
You can't help but laugh as you try to brush the sand off of Alastor's ears, his smile annoyed
"Remind me why I agreed to come to the beach? All this sand..."
"Because I wanted you to be here with us...with me..!"
"So you're to blame~"
You're probably exhausted after such an eventful day, wanting to get the sand off of your body
"Ugh...I desperately need a shower after today..."
Alastor's grin is positively predatory as he runs his claws down your back before pulling you in by your waist
"I'll join you, my dear~"
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This was too fun! I love the beach so much! I hope you liked it!
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pedge-page · 3 months
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i love your preggo wife drabbles soo much!!! could you write one where joel takes care of reader with her morning sickness? 🫶🏻
Joel dealing with Preggo Reader: Morning Sickness
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Notes: Idk why I keep making reader so mean but he's such a trooper! I'm also no pregnancy expert obviously so plz take my minimal effort in research with a grain of salt.
Warnings: mean reader, language, vomitting, morning sickness
- - - -
"I hate your penis."
Joel rolls his eyes. It's only the 11th time you've said it today while being hunched over the toilet, with Joel caringly hovering over you, holding your hair out of the way as you take a deep breath and hurl the breakfast he made you this morning.
"I hate—"
"I know, sweet pea. Just breathe."
You nod in an almost drunken state. He knows its because you've got no energy in you to really fight him, with the baby giving you all the first batch of hell in the life long journey of headaches in child bearing.
He rubs over your spin, caressing the shivers raking over your body so you can focus on not dying right now.
"I hate your toes. I hate your shampoo. I hate your fingernails. I hate your toast.  I hate—"
"Ah huh..."
At first he was pretty upset and angered by how much you loath him, but at some point he's tuned it out and just holds and shushes you. While you pout your disdain for the man, you don't oppose his touch.
For now.
"Doin' so good, baby. It's only temporary, baby's just making sure you're a tough momma—"
"Shut the fuck up and get me some water."
Joel stands, his knees reminding him of his less than youthful age, before running downstairs and grabbing a bottle.
You were both a little surprised that all the morning sickness you were warned about hadn't really given either of you trouble in your first trimester. It came with a surprise by the middle of your second, and comes and goes on a daily basis. Today is honestly not so bad: it's your attitude shift that really gives him whiplash.
By the time he gets back up, you're already meandering out of the bathroom like a lost soul with puffy, sleep deprived eyes, and over to the bed, slowly crawling over the mattress, muttering "too tall". You feel his hand supportively on your back, but you snap "fuck off" and get in the bed yourself. He goes to tuck you in with the sheet, but again your hand slaps his away and you close your eyes into darkness.
You can still feel his annoying presence. "What!" You yell, eyes shooting open to see the bottle dangling from his hand. You snatch it without a thank you and gulp.
Joel's just got his hands on his hips, staring at you.
"Kern I hEp ouu, Hondah?" You gurgle through your water sloshing in your mouth.
He just chuckles to himself. "You're cute like this."
You swallow. "I'll fuck you the fuck up."
He laughs even harder, seemingly unserious in your threats. To him, you looked even smaller than before, despite the obvious roundness growing in your tum tum. You seemed like some small puppy finding her growl, or toddler pointing her finger trying to be intimidating but unaware of how badly you're failing.
"So amusing? Why dont you make yourself useful and rub my feet," you demand.
"You need to eat food, baby girl."
"BaBy GiRl" you mock with puppet hand mouth. "NAG nag NAG. I Don't WANT food. I want my FOOT. In your HAND. before I put it up your ASS."
Joel can tolerate the baby cock-blocking him for a few weeks and the endless assult of your words, but he puts his foot down when your basic needs arent being met. "I need you to eat food. You need energy. Baby needs energy."
"Fine! Crackers, you crackhead. Then—" and you thrust your leg in the hair and wiggle your foot in his face so he gets the picture.
"Okay okay!" And he walks out the bedroom.
Joel spends a record 4 minutes downstairs hurriedly putting together a fancy array of cracker options, from Saltines, to Townhouse, to Ritz. He also pops a few cubes of diced ham in his mouth and then holds a few in his hand to snack on later since he too had to abandon breakfast to service you.
By the time you're conplaining "it's been hours!" He's trotting up the stairs, you wiggle your bum so you sit upright in bed, hand over gurgling belly as he brings the tray to you.
Just as youre about to feast on these dry ass cardboard squares, your nose twitches. You see Joel chewing something in his grasp, popping one cube of pale meat quickly into his mouth, and it takes all of 2 seconds for the smell to travel to your brain before you're throwing the tray on the ground, crackers spilling all over the carpet and b lining to the bathroom again to throw up.
As he hears your dramatic gasps and hurls, Joel pulls out his little note pad he's been documenting your pregnancy so far. He writes "no ham" in the lines , right under "hates my penis", before tossing the paper on the bed and stroking your hair lovingly again as you empty your entire organs in the toilet.
By the time you finish, you've got snot and tears running down your face. "but I LOVED HAAAMMMMM" You screech.
It's true. You used to wrap a thick spread of cold butter on a slice of cheap deli ham and eatnit like a cannoli— something he thought was a weird aquired taste BEFORE he even got you pregnant.
Joel grabs a tissue and plants it firmly in your face, and you squeeze your eyes tight and blow right into his palm like a little snot nosed trumpet. He rubs his fingers in your nostrils to get all the boogers out before tossing it and helping you up to your feet again.
All the while you're bawling "l-l-loved—my hh-ham—n cheese" with gross babbling as he tucks you back in the duvet. You were fine with giving up other aversions like tomatoes, pizza crust, and yogurt. Even sex (occasionally). But your beloved ham is one baby step too far.
"Your—"sniffle— "big—"hiccup—"ugly—"choke—"WORM —" cough—"DID THIS TO MEEE," you accuse his crotch and wail into the air.
Then you hiccup very loudly and go quiet entirely.
You look around with curious eyes, fresh tears suddenly unbothering you at the moment.
"Mmmmmmmn crackers," you moan. "Gimme that one," and you point to the mess on the floor.
"What one?"
"That one!"
He bends down and picks up a piece.
But you shake your head. "No that one."
"No." "No the other." "No."
"Which one!" He shouts, unable to contain the lace of frustration.
"The one I'm pointing to, stupid!"
He finally picks up one hes pointed to 3 times already and you clap your hands.
You snatch it out of his grasp, pull a hair off its curved cracked edge before munching on it happily.
He looks at with uncertainty on his face.
You swallow the dry mushed bits and hum contently. "Mmm. Salty."
-
Not even 12 hours later  you two are getting ready for bed, and you mood has completely changed. Still sick, but instead of being unable to stand Joel's entire existence, you praise it.
"Joel, honey? Can you please prop my feet up Under this pillow. I'm sorry. I just can't seem to reach it myself."
"Baby? I'm a little thirsty. Can you get me some water?"
"Im so sorry, Joel. I just can't stomach this food, I know you put so much effort into it. Ugh! I loved this, I really did! I don't know what's wrong with me."
You rub over the discomfort in your slightly swollen tummy and try to be a brave girl and fight the tears, as Joel's been so attentive to your needs, aches, cries and cravings, only to hurl them back up.
You sniffle and look up to him.
He's a bit tense, almost in a fight or flight stance with fear behind his eyes.
"W-whats wrong, Joel?" you ask with a honey song voice.
"Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"
- - - -
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churipu · 3 months
Note
hello !! ૮˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ა i really love your writing and your soft scenarios, they bring me so much serotonin and happiness to be honest !
i don’t know if you take requests still, but could you please do a part two of jjk men + short partner with geto? only if you want to of course, i’ll respect your decision either way don’t worry! thank you so much! <3
JJK MEN + SHORT PARTNER
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featuring. geto suguru, itadori yuuji, sukuna ryomen x reader
warnings. reader is a non-sorcerer (geto)
note. hihi nonnieeee <33 thank you so much for saying that, you don't understand how much you saying that makes me so happy :(( i'm so glad that my works can bring you happiness omg. this is part two to the short partner headcanons.
part one.
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GETO SUGURU. geto honestly could care less about your height — he finds you so adorable that he sometimes can't help but to pinch your cheeks gently, tugging your flesh and squeezing it lightly out of love; it has turned into a small habit that he does to you.
"sugu, no more, my cheeks are going to swell," you tell him, covering your cheeks with your hands to prevent the male from touching it again.
geto couldn't help but to chuckle at your reaction. you're so cute, so small compared to him that all he wanted to do was to poke fun at you. laying his large, calloused hand on top of your head whenever you both sit side-by-side, softly shifting just to pat you.
he will put you on his lap, playing with your hair as you do your own thing. you know a perk of being a shortie? when you sit on a certain height, you get to swing your legs lightly, letting it just flail above ground — and when you do that, geto stares at you lovingly.
"i'm a little jealous of you," your boyfriend mumbles, leaning his chin on top of the palm of his hand. his eyes gazing to your figure as you swung your legs lightly.
"why?"
"you get to swing your legs like that," he pointed his index finger to your legs and you stopped swinging your legs, "why'd you stop?"
"so you won't feel jealous."
geto easily pulls you into his embrace, nuzzling his head into your neck, "keep doing that, 'm enjoying it, you know?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss onto your neck.
he hates non-sorcerers, but when it comes to you? he just can't hate you.
ITADORI YUUJI. ABOSLUTELY LOVES YOUR SHORT HEIGHT. he would and will help you take things that are out of your reach — won't make fun of you, don't worry, I assure you there will never be a scenarios where yuuji makes fun of you. he just thinks you're so perfect, and he gets really sad when you make fun of yourself.
"baby, why would you say that?" he asks you, pulling you close, laying his head on your shoulder.
"yuuji, because it's true," you chuckled, brushing his hair.
"but i like that part of you. your height," he muffles into your clothes, leaning into your touch.
he gets so mushy with you — i'm not even kidding, will grab you, throw you over his shoulders and walk around anywhere. greeting people he know on the way, even gojo or nanami (while you're on his shoulder, also greeting them).
"nanamin, hi!" yuuji greets, walking past the older male as he turned to look at both you and him, you waved at nanami when he turns around to look — and he waves back at you, confused.
yuuji is clingy. but you don't mind — he will latch himself onto you, do you know how parents hold their baby when they're trying to teach them how to walk? yuuji does that with you, even if you're not that much shorter than him; still short, he still does it. because you're his baby, and he won't accept anything else.
"c'mon baby, left and right, left and right." he guides your arms forward, standing behind you.
as you took a step, he takes one too — like teaching a baby how to walk, it's cute really, "yes, just like that," he laughs. god, he's having so much fun with you.
yuuji won't let anyone call you short, even gojo. will fight anyone who makes fun of you, and not even kidding. he will not back down from defending you.
"what do you mean they're too short?" he retorts back, rolling his eyes, "you're too annoying and nobody's saying anything."
SUKUNA RYOMEN. huge. tease. about it. will go on until you cry — but will make it up to you in his own way. he's not one to say how much he loves you, but you do know that he does. he just refuses to say it.
"ryo, stop. it's not funny anymore." you mumble out lowly to him, pushing his chest away.
he chuckles deeply, but when he realizes it was serious; he stops, turns away for a bit before glancing back at you. sukuna isn't much of a crier, so he doesn't know what to do when you cry — he gets a little confused, like, why are you crying because he called you short?
"why are you crying, brat?" he grunted.
"you're being mean to me."
"i called you short." he sighs out loudly, pulling your arm away from your face — revealing your tearful eyes, "stop crying," he thumbs your tears away from the corner of your eyes.
"then stop doing that, you've done that so many times, it's pissing me off." you mumbled at him, sniffling lightly.
the male groans out, rolling his eyes, "are humans this dramatic?" he asks you, wiping your tears away; pulling you onto his lap, burying his face into the crook of your neck — as much as he tries to put up this tough guys demeanor, he feels bad for making you cry.
but will definitely do it again next time.
it's weird; sukuna shows his love by teasing the hell out of you, pissing you off, making you cry — then ends up feeling bad for a few hours before doing the same thing all over again.
"'m sorry, but i'll do it again next time." he murmurs into your neck.
"you're mean."
"i know. but i love you."
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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