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sttoru · 9 months

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𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⟣ sypnosis. you had been in your first ever relationship with suguru for a couple months now. neither of you have taken your relationship to the next level; suguru was extremely patient and never brought the topic of sex up until you one day decide you were ready.

⟣ note. first fic for my event :3 i spent way too much time on this fic so it turned out very detailed, long, romantic and fluffy. i hope you all enjoy and appreciate it teehee. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk ! wc: around 6.1k

⟣ tags. soft dom!geto suguru x virgin!female reader. fluff + smut. slow burn. age gap (reader 20-ish, suguru around 29/30), little talks about insecurity, loss of virginity, breast play, edging, teasing, fingering, lots of praise, dirty talk, size difference!, p in v — unprotected (dont b like reader and use protection please), creampie, aftercare, suguru’s really romantic and just a softie for u, suguru being a good ‘dad’ to mimiko and nanako and teeny tiny bits of him secretly being a pervert.

never in a million years had suguru expected his girlfriend to be so upfront about such a big, personal decision. the thought of having you say those words had never crossed his mind.

“can you repeat that for me, sweetheart?”

could you blame him for asking you to clarify the words you’ve uttered? that man has seen you as an oblivious and innocent woman ever since the start of your relationship. of course, unbeknownst to him, your thoughts were anything but that.

you may be a virgin, but your mind was a place for the most lewd and nasty thoughts. it’s just that you’ve been scared of being intimate with a man—it’s frightening, especially when having heard the many online stories about how badly it could hurt. some say that such descriptions were over exaggerating, however your inexperience still lead you to believe everything you’ve read about the topic.

and then you started dating an older man named suguru. you’ve met him by chance at a mall in kyoto and he was the first one who approached the other. you remember how suguru politely asked you for some advice regarding what type of presents he should get for ‘two teenage girls’. of course, you agreed to helping him out and that’s how you two eventually ended up brainstorming about possible ideas in a cozy café.

once seated, chosen drinks in both your hands, you asked the man whether the gifts were meant for his daughters. somehow, that’s the first connection the neurones in your brain had made once suguru told you about the two teenagers he was picking out presents for.

you remember it vividly; the sweet, gentle sound of the laughter that accounted as your answer, the eyes of the then stranger looking rather nostalgic as they stared into the liquid in his cup. suguru responded vaguely; “i guess you could say that, yes.”

that little ‘date’—if you could call it that—ended on a wholesome note. suguru thanked you for your time and made sure that you safely got into the train you needed to take home. he did want to offer you a car ride, however he kept that question to himself since he knew that no woman would voluntarily agree to be taken home by a stranger. even if suguru had the purest of intentions.

there were a couple more dates that followed after that one; all where you both gradually got to know each other better. you’ve found out so much about suguru—the details about his own life being both fascinating and sad at the same time. likewise, suguru had also learned much about you. he always shows great interest in what you tell him, even if it’s a minuscule detail. he remembers it all as well—a feature which caused you to feel funny things in your stomach.

you realised you were catching feelings for that mysterious yet sweet and loving man; it was inevitable. the way he makes you giggle, his respectful and easygoing manner of speaking, the slight touches you two shared on accident.. all of it added to your little crush.

however, you didn’t actually think suguru was falling for you too. you only met up for a few times, plus, you seem out of his league—both due to your age gap and difference in the things you’re pursuing at the time. you were in college, trying to get your degree whilst he already had a job as a powerful leader of an organisation and was trying to achieve one of many goals with them.

there’s not a chance he’d like you, right?

wrong. you were confessed to a couple weeks after your first meeting and have been in a relationship for over 4 months now. it still felt like a dream; having your first boyfriend be such a gentleman. it truly felt like you already met the love of your life whenever he was near.

suguru’s been nothing but sweet and caring to you, has never asked you to engage in any sexual activities nor even ever dared to touch you in places you haven’t consented to. the furthest you’ve gone in terms of intimacy in those four months, were make-out sessions. just some tongue action here and there—adding sprinkles of neck kisses and hickeys.

there were times where you wanted to let things escalate, however you couldn’t bring it upon yourself to ask your lover. suguru wasn’t the person to decide your feelings for you either—if there was no verbal consent coming from your lips, he’s not going any further. even if he wanted to as well.

you were grateful that suguru was that willing to wait for you, no matter how long it might take. not only were you anxious of the possible pain the sex would bring, but it was partially due to the fact that your lover was much more experienced in that field.

what if you were lacking? what if it wasn’t satisfactory enough for him and he’d eventually leave you for it? it’s obvious that suguru wasn’t the type of man to actually do that, however you couldn’t stop the many possibilities from running free in your brain.

your change of mind was rather spontaneous; it was today when you suddenly came up with your final decision. you were staying over at suguru’s, the sun was out and he was sitting on his balcony, reading a book whilst sipping on his coffee. what caught your eye was his bare back and the muscles which were on display to you.

suguru was shirtless and the seams of light were making his skin glisten—the view making your own body hot and bothered. you bit your lip and approached your boyfriend from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders before kissing his neck. that skin-to-skin contact made you sure of your decision; you needed him. in more ways than one.

that’s how you ended up saying what you said. the statement left suguru baffled since you uttered it in his ear out of the blue. he couldn’t deny one thing however; the idea certainly did send a shiver of excitement down his spine.

“i said,” you repeat with a little mischievous grin, leaning in closer to your lover once he turned around to face you properly—as if searching for any hints that your words were indeed not his imagination, “i wanna lose my virginity to you.”

it wasn’t. you actually said it—the words that would take your relationship a step further. although, suguru couldn’t help but wonder where your sudden decision came from. his hands found their way to yours and he held onto them like they were two delicate flowers.

“i’m happy to hear that, though i’m curious,” your lover starts off carefully as he places chaste yet soft kisses on your palms, “why so sudden?”

you shrug nonchalantly like you didn’t feel that twinge of nervousness in the back of your mind as you felt suguru’s lips on your skin. ‘it really was happening now, was it?’—that kind of feeling was the cause of your subtle anxiousness.

“well, ehh— you just looked good.. sitting there.. i guess.” you mumble, voice trailing off in embarrassment whilst your eyes darted around the balcony in attempt to avoid suguru’s gaze. your flustered expression and adorable confession makes him laugh gently. it was not a mocking laugh at all—more of an amused one;

“just when i thought you couldn’t get any cuter..” the long-haired man muses, the locks of his bangs grazing ever so slightly against your hands as he keeps holding them, “you never fail to surprise me, do you know that?”

suguru had a way with words that made you weak in the knees. or maybe it’s simply because he’s shirtless and kissing your palms so romantically. you don’t know which one it was.

“but, love,” suguru continues carefully as he stands up, your eyes following his as he towers over you, “are you a hundred percent sure? i don’t want to do anything you aren’t comf—“

“yes.” your answer cut your boyfriend off and he’s left in shock once more. your eyes were filled with determination, yet the faint glint of nervousness in them didn’t escape suguru’s sight. you’ve given your verbal consent and are even the first one to suggest the idea— what more could he ask of you?

there hung a silence between you two, the breeze blowing through suguru’s dark locks making him look even more majestic than he already was. you had no doubt about it; today was going to be the day. it had to be.

“then, if you’d let me have this,” his low voice sounded more sensual than it had ever been as his hand found its place on your cheek, fingertips rubbing against your ear, thumb softly pressing onto your skin—

a slow and romantic kiss followed straight afterwards. it had caught you slightly off guard, even when knowing fully well that this was what you were longing for.

his lips moved in tandem against yours, the soft touch making you feel certain emotions that you hadn’t even thought existed. this man whom you called your lover had never been unable to expose you to new sensations. and soon, he’ll grant you another one. a much pleasurable one.

one arm circled your waist, the other held up, hand on the back of your head to deepen the passion-filled kiss you shared. his lips parted your lightly trembling ones, the tips of your tongues attentively rubbing against one another as if to test the waters; was it fine to go further? are we actually doing this?

you were. it was set in stone as your throat formed soft noises of satisfaction, shaky breaths being exchanged by the two lovers on the balcony—not one of you realising that the weather was changing in the background. the sun was setting, creating the perfect mood for the situation as you were still engrossed by each other’s moves and touches.

it was only for the sake of catching your breath that you had pulled away. your cheeks felt hot, as did your entire body which was still pressed against suguru’s—chest to chest. the proximity was one you both had enjoyed many moments before, however this instant was unlike any other. you both knew as you stared at each other in silence, your quick breaths doing the talking instead.

“will you let me..” the voice of which you have grown to adore spoke to you, the owner grasping your attention once more by holding onto your hand. suguru’s fingers smoothly slid across your skin until they found the puzzle they were meant to complete—that being the gaps between your own fingers. once your hands were tightly intertwined, the man finishes his sentence;

“will you let me love you?”

his face was still close to yours as he uttered those beautiful words to you, warm breath lightly fanning the thin strands of hair on your cheeks to the side, lips subconsciously trying to brush against yours once more. but, they could wait. they could wait until the agreement leaves your mouth.

“of course.” the answer escapes before you could even register it properly. this makes suguru smile against your lips as he captured them in another sweet kiss. he muttered a small ‘thank you’ and then swept your legs off the floor—strong arms placed under your thighs to hold you up against his body whilst the hungry kisses continue.

suguru doesn’t know how he got there; carrying you over to his bed, settling you down onto the soft mattress, his body caging yours underneath him, eyes fluttering over every detail of your exposed skin. he hadn’t had you like this ever before; he hadn’t had you in his bed for a reason as sinful as this, only ever for cuddles or sleep.

“you’re beautiful.” the dark-haired man whispers as he carefully takes off the clothing covering your figure—the gorgeous skin his hands still have yet to explore. suguru can’t remember the last time he has treated anyone like this; like a treasure he’s had the honour to find and keep to himself. there hasn’t been a single woman in his life that he’s cared for this much—you’re the only one capable of mellowing him and his heart.

“stunning,” another compliment; another breath spent to praise you. your lover’s fingers teased the edges of your bra, lips kissing down your collarbone and towards the centre of your chest—each touch being done with precision. your bra became undone a second later and you let the straps fall of your arms, all the way until your breasts were fully revealed.

suguru’s breath hitches, mouth forming more saliva than in any previous instants, the liquid being pushed down his throat with a gulp. you didn’t have the chance to feel conscious of yourself in a moment like this; the dim light of the bedside lamp shone on suguru’s face, his lips glistening with a mixture of your saliva whilst his gaze was lingering on the new sight in front of him—he was utterly obsessed.

“may i?” his hands were already reaching out for the plump flesh and they came in touch once you nodded shyly. his palms were warm as they kneaded your breasts and his fingers brushed against your nipples, which made you whimper from how sensitive they were now that someone else has finally touched them.

suguru took notice of your reaction and put pressure on both small buds once again, thumbs rubbing your areolas in circular motions, “that good, princess?”

“mhmm— y-yes,” you mutter through a moan. your body was pushed further onto the mattress as your lover put more of his weight on you, your entire chest area getting covered by licks and kisses, slow and deliberate ones that left you yearning for more. suguru’s eyes gazed up at yours for consent once his parted lips hovered just above your sensitive nipples, his breath on them alone making you squirm already.

with another nod, suguru wasted no time taking one nipple into his warm mouth—wetting it with his saliva as his tongue slid around the area. his long fingers squeezed, twisted and pulled on your other nipple to give you both stimulations at once.

“mm, so good.” his muffled voice caused goosebumps to appear on your skin. suguru slowly lets his lips travel across your tits, sucking on them, even kissing down the curves until he reaches your torso. he gives that area the same amount of love and attention whilst your fingers were tangled around his smooth, long hair. suguru clearly seemed to enjoy the sensations; he let out small moans and hums against your bare skin to indicate that you should continue playing and tugging at his locks.

his tongue abruptly came to a stop right above the waistline of your panties—the barrier he was about to reach past for the first time. the hesitation was visible in his body language, however his fingers eventually tugged at the fabric, preparing to take it off.

your heart was beating out of your chest as you watched suguru slowly pull the last piece of cloth away. your thighs pressed together on instinct, stopping your panties from exposing your bare cunt.

“should i stop?” suguru asks with a raised eyebrow, fingers pulling away from your underwear now that he’s seen you close your legs. you didn’t want him to stop—it’s just the nerves that made your body move on its own command;

“please— no,” you shake your head, biting your lip as you swallowed your own saliva out of pure desire. you craved him now that it’s come this far, “need you. need you so bad, suguru.”

those words caused suguru’s brain to shut down. any irrelevant thoughts were thrown out of the window; the only thing his mind was telling him to do, was to take care of your needs. your body was laid out on his bed—trusting eyes looking up at his in anticipation, pretty hands grasping onto his sheets like it’d calm you down.

“i’m all yours, sweetheart.” suguru sighs, fingertips slightly shaking as he pulls your panties down to your ankles, eyes pausing on the revelation. to say that suguru was simply rendered speechless, was an understatement. that man was on the verge of letting loose of any self-control and just dive his face right between your thighs, eating you out like he’s fantasised of doing for a while now.

“fuck.” your boyfriend closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before opening them to smile down at you—the handsome smile that was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him, “i’ll be careful. i promise.”

naturally, you nodded along. you’ve built up enough trust between one another during the past few months to let yourself be vulnerable in front of him. the palm of his hands patted your thighs slightly before spreading them apart, once again showing your glistening folds, a slight wetness to them from your own arousal.

suguru couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight. he’d already have devoured your dripping cunt if it wasn’t for his self-control. but, it was your first time. he couldn’t rush into things just yet.

“thank you, baby.” the dark-haired man whispered under his breath. he was showing his gratitude for the sight you allowed him to see—a sight only he had ever seen before. the only man to be able to witness the beauty before him. that fact alone made his eyes darken in lust ever so slightly.

his fingers carefully slid across your vulva, your bodily fluid coating the skin which makes him shiver and his fingers get bolder. the cute sounds that filled his ears were only making this even better for him.

the way your hips bucked up slightly into his touch—just asking for suguru to take you right then and there—was driving him insane. every vein in his body felt like it could pop with how much he was restraining his own self from acting out of line. his finger easily slid into the little hole and suguru almost couldn’t believe it; your pussy was clamping down on his finger, your insides tightly wrapped around him to the point that even he wouldn’t know if his dick would fit in.

“hnnngh, suguru, please— wan’ your cock already,” that dirty sounding sentence was one he didn’t expect to hear from a virgin. it made him shake his head with a small, delighted chuckle; you really never failed to surprise him.

“i know you do,” suguru purrs, pressing kisses against the curves of your tits whilst another finger of his joined to stretch your pussy out properly, “but i need to prep you enough if you wanna take my cock. can you be patient for me, sweetheart?”

“m’kay. gonna try..” his fingers pumped in and out of you, the feeling of them curling up deep inside you made your walls squeeze against them. you’ve played with yourself before, of course, however it was then that you discovered that nothing could ever compare to the real thing: suguru’s long and slightly girthy fingers.

just when you thought that it couldn’t get any better, you felt a third finger—not inside you--but on your clit, rubbing the small bundle of nerves like you could’ve never done to yourself. suguru was so precise and exact with his actions which showed his experience. that’s another reason of why you’ve put all your trust in him. getting your virginity taken by a sweet, older and experienced man was probably ten times better than losing it to any guy your age, who were probably only out for sex.

suguru was there to make love to you.

your back arched once you felt suguru’s fingers increase their pace, the wet and squelchy sounds echoing through the room as they got louder the more your pussy got played with, his thumb almost overstimulating your clit to the point of release already—that’s how superb your lover’s hand movements were.

“no, no. can’t have you cum on my fingers like that.” you whine once you felt suguru take his fingers back the same moment you were about to reach your first orgasm by someone else’s hands. the older man smirks at this and kisses you on the lips, pulling away slowly with your bottom lip between his teeth, letting it lightly flop back into place as he lets go; “i wanna have you cum together with me, okay?”

you couldn’t refuse such a romantic request, thus you nod. suguru smiles back at you once more before his hands move to take off his sweatpants, tossing the piece of clothing to the side. your eyes widened as you were propped on your elbows, gaze lingering on the massive bulge formed at the crotch area, his boxers not hiding much of the shape.

once the underwear was off as well—that’s when you realised that your underlying anxiousness was not for nothing. suguru’s cock sprung free, it was slightly curved near his pink tip, drops of pre-cum flowing down the length. you haven’t ever seen a dick in real life, only ever on the internet, so this had left you stunned. you didn’t know what the average size was for a man, but there’s one thing you knew for sure: suguru was definitely way above the average size.

“cat got your tongue, princess?” he teased, his hand absentmindedly pumping his cock to the sight of your naked body underneath him. suguru didn’t even know that he started doing that in front of you; it was out of pure instinct. he couldn’t hide the excitement in his body, his shaft twitching in his hand as if it desperately wanted to feel your tight cunt around it.

“uhm, s-suguru..” you stammer a bit, biting your lip as your eyes followed his hand motions which got faster once your sweet voice called out to him. something about you looking a tad bit intimidated by his size made him want to destroy your insides to mush—have you beg him to fuck you as he bullies his whole length into your poor, small cunt.

“i know, i know..” suguru reassures you, free hand giving you a few consoling head pats, “i’ll try to make it as less painful as possible, okay?”

you hum and watch how your lover settles between your legs, spreading them enough to kneel before you, upper body bending forward to place soft pecks on your forehead; he was encouraging and preparing you more in his own way.

your arms instantly wrapped around his back, sweaty palms set underneath his shoulder blades—you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, just waiting on that moment. that feeling you’ve been craving, yet also have been avoiding.

you waited for a bit, however the only sounds heard and sensations felt were the slight dent in the mattress near one side of your body, the bed creaking faintly. suguru was leaning on side of his body, one arm stretched out to open a drawer, apparently searching for a condom.

once you realised what he was doing, you shook your head and tapped his back twice to regain suguru’s attention. his gaze immediately flickered over to yours and his head tilted to the side in curiosity; “i want the full experience—no condom, please.”

his eyes widened at the request. you seemed to be dead serious, eyes glinting determinedly, lips forming a little pout— it was impossible to refuse you, although suguru knew that he had to play the role of the older, more wise and experienced lover in the back of his mind.

he parted his lips to list off the reasons why you should let him use a condom, yet the words died on his tongue. you were impossible to say ‘no’ to. not when you’re looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“whatever princess wants, princess gets.”

suguru prodded your entrance with the fat head of his cock, circling the hole and wetting it more by using a mixture of his pre-cum and your own arousal. you took another deep breath and tried your best to hold tightly onto your boyfriend, arms wrapped tightly around his back with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck—bracing for impact.

“tell me if it hurts too much,” suguru whispers in your ear, leaving one last kiss on your temples before pushing his hips forward, folds stretching out and apart to allow his cock through and into your pussy.

did it hurt like you expected? yes. it most certainly did. maybe even worse than you were prepared for.

“fuck— nhhh, fuckfuckfuck!” you hiss whilst your nails dig into the skin of suguru’s back, probably leaving red marks because of how much you’re clinging onto him—like your life depened on it. that’s quite literally what it felt like to you; body being forced to part and make way for suguru inside you, pussy feeling like it was burning by how big of a stretch it was to fit him in—if he actually would be able to push all of his inches into your tight hole.

“sshh, shh, it’s okay, try to relax for me, yeah?” your lover comforts you the best he could, stilling his movements for a couple seconds before gently slipping his cock further into you. it pained him to see the discomfort written over your face, however you hadn’t made any clear signs of wanting this to come to a halt. in fact, you were encouraging him to continue whenever he stopped at any indication of hurt.

“i can take it.. p-promise,” you manage to moan out. suguru breathed in deeply at your words and nodded, kissing your lips in hopes to distract you from any pain you’re feeling, “you’re too good to me, sweetheart. really.”

both of you exhaled deeply as suguru finally bottomed out, a long minute of reassurance and pushing now behind your back. your eyes had watered up a little, chest heaving as you tried to accommodate to the new feeling inside of you.

“take your time.” suguru utters gently, voice sultry and sweet whenever its directed at you. his lips graze against your cheeks, smothering the area with pecks to take your mind off anything else. the locks of black hair tickle your chin and nose, the hairtie that usually kept a good chunk of his hair in a bun now out of sight.

suguru hadn’t taken anyone’s virginity before and that’s what also made this opportunity special to him. he didn’t know how to thank you with words, so he showed his gratitude throughout his actions; lips kissing your shiny tears away, moving across your face to your forehead and eventually to your own round lips which had formed a cute pout.

you could feel suguru smile against your mouth, his tongue gently tracing the outline of your lips whilst mumbling words of affection and praise; “you’re taking it so well, baby. such a good girl for me— love you so much.”

you giggled lightly at your lover’s appreciative remarks, focusing on returning the kiss instead of the tingling feeling in your lower body. you pulled away after a bit and looked up at him with nothing but pure adoration; “i love you too, suguru.”

if suguru had the ability to freeze time, he’d want to do it during this moment, just to relive this bit over and over. he’s sure that this exact instant will be engraved into his memory for the many years to come.

and once you’ve given him the green light to move, he did it with caution, slowly but surely. his hips moved back and then forwards, girthy cock dragging along your walls at a leisurely pace, but just enough to make your pain transform into pleasure.

suguru’s big hands were placed on your hips, sometimes they’d leave their position to cup your chin and make you face him. he doesn’t want you to look away from his eyes; he’ll think you don’t like this if you do. besides, the thing he loves most about being in the missionary position, is that he’s able to hear how good he’s making you feel whilst looking into your eyes to see your face scrunch up in satisfaction. it’s so romantic and perfect. just like you.

“my little princess is so pretty.” suguru sighs in content and kisses your tears away, thrusting into your tight cunt in a comfortable pace—not too fast but not too slow, “the way you take my cock and still manage to look beautiful while doing it— you’re incredible.”

if the physical pleasure wasn’t enough, his added commentary would certainly be. you moan and whimper phrases that sound like his name over and over again; you didn’t know what else to say as your mind was foggy with the amazing sensations your body was experiencing for the first time. that was fine with suguru since all he wants was to see you enjoy yourself—this moment was for you. everything he did was for you—every thrust, every kiss, every touch.

“nhhg, too good, so good!” you mewl and leave more scratch marks across suguru’s back, ones which he didn’t mind at all. it only served as further proof of this special moment. the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of your insides, puffy folds parted widely to make room for more of his length until it felt like he actually was balls deep.

“mhm—you’re, haah, tight..” the once calm and collected man seemed to let loose of himself the more he felt your cunt swallow him all the way, gripping onto his dick as if you didn’t want to ever let go. suguru grunts and moves down to leave a couple hickeys across your neck, hips non-stop pushing against yours, “don’t think i can last long—fuck, yeah—you feel amazing, baby.”

your eyes roll back as the pleasure seems to build up in your stomach as well. it felt like a coil that threatened to snap at any moment and it’d release another immense wave of pleasure upon breaking. your body was on fire, sweaty and hot, just like suguru’s.

“can you cum with me, princess? can you wait and hold on for me?” he asks, and the questions sound impossible, however you could at least try your best to fulfil his desires. you’d also want nothing more than to reach your peak together with the man you loved.

“okay—mmhh—together.” you nod and your body tenses up, legs subconsciously moving to wrap around suguru’s waist, heels of your feet simultaneously tapping against his lower back along with his hip movements. you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out for as your breathing patterns changes, whiney gasps and choked up moans escaping the back of your throat as your clit bumps against his pelvis over and over.

“almost, almost—“ suguru curses through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while yours did the opposite. your body rocked back and forth and the bed felt like it was shaking along as well. you could tell by the way suguru’s hips rolled against yours that he was close—his eyebrows were furrowed, eyes half-lidded but not closed to still hold contact with yours and his hands clutched onto your waist. all indications of his nearing climax.

“mnph, gonna cum— shit, shit, shit, i’m gonna cum—“ suguru swears under his breath a couple times more before snapping back into reality at the last few seconds. he realised once again that he didn’t have a condom on, so his first rational thought was to pull out and finish himself outside of your body.

you were also nearing your own orgasm, not thinking rationally due to the intensity of the moment, any other thoughts except for the man on top of you were thrown out of the window. you felt suguru try to pull his twitching and throbbing cock out before it could spurt its cum inside of your dripping cunt.

you whined and shook your head, pulling suguru in for a deep kiss while tightening the grasp your legs had around his hips; “w-want to feel you cum in me— want you to fill me up while i finish too.”

suguru’s breath caught in his throat, almost choking on his own saliva from your bold requests. his only rational thought instantly vanished from his mind, now all that’s left was pure love, pleasure and desire. the mental image of his cum spilling and filling your pussy to the brim drove him to the edge.

“all yours, i’m going to give it all to you, princess, yeah? fuck !” both of you relinquished in the feeling of bliss, the warmth and build up reaching its designated ending— the expected waves of pleasure washing over you both. series of soft moans, whimpers and groans filled the room as your pussy was flooded with lots of hot cum.

it was like suguru hadn’t came in years—that’s how incredible that orgasm was experienced by the dark-haired male. the same thing goes for you; your legs were shaking, hips squirming up in aftershocks as you squeezed down on suguru’s cock, quite literally milking him dry of every drop.

“nhh, haah— suguru, love,” your tired and powerless whispers caught his attention immediately. your trembling hand held onto his cheek in attempt to make him look at you. suguru’s fingers curled around your wrist, turning your hand away from his face and to the side so he’ll have access to your palm. his lips left a ticklish trail of pecks on them until his mouth found its home: your lips.

the two of you exchanged deep, exhausted breaths, your boyfriend eventually pulling out and rolling onto his side to cradle you into his arms—hand placed on the back of your head to rest your body against his chest. the following seconds were spent cuddling as you tried to regain composure.

“you were amazing.” suguru sighs, chin resting on top of your head whilst his hand rubbed your bare back in comfort, “are you okay, sweetheart? nothing feeling off or anything of that sorts?”

you shake your head and snuggle up against your lover, content with how things are right now. the afterglow of your little session—of your first time, made you happier than ever. you couldn’t believe it’d feel this good. maybe it’s due to the one you’ve lost your virginity to.

“i’m okay.” you mumble and lift your head up to look suguru in the eyes, faces only inches away from each other. there were no words in the dictionary that could describe how you two felt. the closest word to explain it would be flawless.

“i’m glad, baby. thank you for trusting me.” suguru flashes you a small smile and strokes your head. you stay like that, bodies intertwined in a deep and comfortable hug, whispers of sweet nothings filling your ears and subtle gestures of love making you feel secure.

a couple minutes later and suguru noticed how you started to doze off. he chuckled to himself before pulling away from your hug and standing up, only to have you pout and complain about the loss of warmth.

“i’m just going to clean you up, love.” the soft-spoken man utters to you, laughing quietly at the adorable state you were in at the moment. you were so dependent on him.

“should i prepare us a warm, relaxing bubble bath as well?” he asks, squatting down near the edge of his bed and taking your hands in his, maintaining eye contact as per usual.

“that’d be nice.” you nod and feel your eyelids close slowly, “can’t promise i won’t fall asleep, though.”

suguru lets out a soft exhale through his nose, corner of his lips curling upwards at your little comment. he couldn’t believe he ended up dating such an unbelievably wonderful girl. it’s a blessing in his life of curses.

“i’ll make sure to at least clean you up if you do fall asleep, don’t worry. you’re safe with me.”

you were sure he was an angel sent down from heaven. it was more than clear to you—even if it may not be to many others out there.

“thank you, suguru.” you murmur as your body relaxes into the soft mattress, “i love you.”

“i love you too. more than you could imagine.”

#ෆ : choose your fate.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk x you #geto x you #getou suguru x reader #jjk fic

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kamaluhkhan · 3 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo

(i. he had a savior complex)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it.

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

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

your eyelids fluttered open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you feeling okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“luke.”

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

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

“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him.

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

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

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

“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”

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

“it’s…you. you’re….okay?”

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

you gripped his wrist to steady him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

you refused to lose hope.

no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.

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

“but —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“thanks, karma.”

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

“what happened? did clarisse —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(ii. he had an ego)

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

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

“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.”

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

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

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

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

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

“nice work, rodriguez.”

"we're going out tonight?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen.

“well, we aren’t.”

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

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

“cowards?” you suggested.

silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”

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

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

“i am not a coward.”

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.

“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.”

you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.

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

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

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

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

"i don't owe you anything."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your fingers tightened into a fist.

“that is not —”

“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”

“luke, what are you —”

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

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

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

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

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

“see what i mean?”

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

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

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

rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded.

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

luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.

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

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

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

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

that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.

“what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.

"what about the redhead?"

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

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

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

luke turned towards the exit.

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

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

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

it made you want to kiss him all over again.

(iii. he lied without flinching)

you couldn’t find luke anywhere.

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

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

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

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

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

“actually, we were just —”

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

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

luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance.

“i already said no. end of discussion.”

“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.

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

“okay, seriously. what’s —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sitting down next to him, you sighed.

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

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

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

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

“what?”

he leaned in close, voice low.

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

“no. no. she wouldn’t —”

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

“we all are,” you pointed out.

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

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

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

luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you felt him chuckle against your skin.

“since when do you care about that?”

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

"that’s only if we get caught."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yes, sweetheart?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“eyes up here, beautiful.”

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

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

you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.

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

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

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

luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too.

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

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

“do you see my shirt there?”

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

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

you placed your hands on his cheeks.

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

“luke, baby, look at me.”

when he finally did, your heart ached.

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

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

“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sparring?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you won’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(v. he made you look so naive)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you narrowed your eyes at him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vi. he was a vice you could never shake

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you missed —

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

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

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

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

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

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

think of the devil, and he shall appear.

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

you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken.

i can’t stand to hear your name

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

it was just that — a bad feeling, right?

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

oh baby, you really blew it.

the song ended, and your blood ran cold.

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

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

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

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

“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”

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

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

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

“because i’m alone.”

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

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

luke tried again.

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

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

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

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

your eyes grazed luke carefully.

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

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

“no. you don’t get to just —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i know….i fucked up, karma.”

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

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

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

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

luke stared at you. you glared back at him.

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

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

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

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

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

baby. you could have laughed.

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

kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed.

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

“that’s not my home.”

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

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

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

you stepped in front of luke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you were definitely out of practice.

“kelli!”

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

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

luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“okay, we need to get you —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

bad habits were always the hardest to break.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke knelt down in front of you.

“can i take your shirt off?”

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

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

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

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

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

“wait. what happened?”

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

“luke.”

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

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

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

“can i take this off?”

luke nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

you couldn’t help but add that last part.

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

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

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

luke just had to make everything so complicated.

“they’re fine, all things considered.”

you didn’t offer anything more, anything less.

he was quiet for a moment.

“you seem to be doing alright, though?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke caught your wrist before you could leave.

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ll do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“no kissing,” he warned.

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

luke swallowed thickly.

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

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

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

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

luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate.

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

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

“yes. please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re such a —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck it. please — kiss me.”

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

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

“please,” luke pleaded once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

maybe that was true.

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

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

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

"i guess not."

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

"how's your shoulder?"

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

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

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

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

"i love you too.”

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

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

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

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

#i haven't seen the finale but from the gifs my heart is already broken #and here i am breaking it more <3 #luke castellan angst #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x fem!reader #saf writes #Spotify #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo show #pjo fanfic #pjo series

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little-diable · 3 months

Text

Following Rules - Spencer Reid (smut)

I don't know where this idea came from, but boy do I love this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: What if JJ had an older daughter? What if Spencer had known said daughter ever since she had been a teenager? What if Spencer no longer remembers the rules he was supposed to follow when (y/n) finally gives in and pulls Spencer close?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f and m), age gap, mom's best friend situation, teasing

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (3k words)

If there was one thing Spencer had learned from an early age, it was following rules. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about the rules themselves, about the sometimes random-seeming words that somehow managed to transmit a message burned into his mind from the second the rules were spoken to him, no matter the age. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about how the people teaching him these rules tried to pronounce the important words, underlining the importance of the rules he was supposed to follow. No, it wasn’t about these things, but it was all about Spencer desperately trying to fit in, hoping to blend in with those around him as he remembered sentences that had no real meaning to him.

If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was remembering everything, from single words, long conversations or the plots of books that had more pages than even some other so-called geniuses could count. He could remember every rule that had been forced into his mind, no matter his age, but fuck, those rules were really testing him whenever he was around her. The girl who was just above twenty-one, the girl he had known since she was a teenager, the girl who called his best friend “Mom”.

“C’mon, (y/n), please. It’s just one night.” JJ’s sigh echoed through the living room, hands placed on her waist, eyes staring her daughter down. (Y/n) was sitting next to Spencer, eyes flickering up from the book she was reading, barely listening to the words her mother had spoken.

“I have a test next week, I need to concentrate and not babysit Henry. Why don’t you ask Penelope?” Before JJ could reply, eyes momentarily fluttering close to give in to the inner battle she was fighting – torn between being proud of her daughter for her academic success and the annoyance (y/n)’s determination pushed through her – Spencer spoke up, forcing all eyes towards him.

“I am free, I can totally look after Henry while (y/n) studies for her test.” The softness of Spencer’s voice momentarily distracted (y/n) from the way her heart began to speed up whenever he was close to her, wearing that smile that could melt her from the inside out, paired with the glistening pupils she saw whenever her eyes fluttered close.

(Y/n) was anything but proud to admit the way she had been crushing on Spencer for the past years. Once a harmless crush she had tried to accept when she was a teenager, it had escalated into something deeper, something more sincere the older she got. Deep down she tried to accept that this wouldn’t ever be more than a crush, a one-sided one that is, and yet she wasn’t ready to shake those feelings just yet, clinging to the thin thread as if it was her lifeline, saving her from drowning.

“You don’t have to, Spence. I know how much you enjoy your Saturday evenings.” (Y/n) tried to stop her eyes from rolling, not wanting to give her emotions too much room as she was surrounded by two profilers, but the small bits of annoyance filling her whenever her mother looked at Spencer with those big eyes of hers were hard to shake. She wouldn't be surprised if her mother had some feelings for Spencer, leaving (y/n) with a bitter taste on her tongue.

“Oh, no, I’d love to do it. And I can even help (y/n) with studying.” Their eyes met for a few seconds, seconds that felt like hours, forcing heat to rise in her system. “Not like she needs any of my help, but who knows, maybe I’ll get the chance to learn something new from her. So it’s a win-win situation for us all, I’d say?”

……

Music rang in her ears, eyes focused on her notes, trying not to give in to the distraction silently calling for her, luring her eyes towards Spencer’s frame. A sigh wanted to leave (y/n), cursing herself for giving in all too easily, not used to being around Spencer without her mother or any other member of the BAU around. Fuck, she’d need to get a grip before one of them could see through her lies, all too aware of her crush on Spencer.

“I think it’s almost dinner time. Do you want to eat with Henry and me?” Spencer’s soft voice drew a smile onto (y/n)’s lips, clearing her throat as she tried to shake her sinful thoughts.

“Uhm, sure. I think Mom prepared something for us.” She felt his eyes on her frame, watching (y/n) make her way towards the fridge, reaching for the containers filled with food. The sound of his Converse meeting the ground filled the momentary silence, coming to a halt next to (y/n) to help her fill their plates, standing way too close.

“How’s studying going? Do you need any help?” Heat rose to her face, eyes forced to concentrate on the food rather than the unmistakable grin tugging on Spencer’s lips. For a moment (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if he was aware of the buzzing atmosphere, of the way he made her feel something she had only read about in books so far.

“It’s going okay. Maybe you can quiz me later, once Henry’s in bed?” God, she was digging her own grave, a grave so deep she’d never be able to escape. Just the mere thought of spending any more time with Spencer, without her little brother near, left her shuddering in excitement.

“Absolutely, whatever you need, (y/n), I’m here for you.”

Fuck, if it was only that simple.

……

“I knew you wouldn’t need any of my help, you’re acing it!” A proud grin tugged on her lips as she sunk further into the couch, feet finding Spencer's lap before she could even think about what she was doing. But while (y/n) was panicking inside, debating pulling her feet back, Spencer didn’t seem to mind the contact, hand finding her right foot without taking his eyes off the sheet he was using to quiz her.

“Alright, two more. Name me some sources for Shakespeare's Macbeth.” With a hum leaving (y/n), she tried to focus on the question, yet barely able to do so as Spencer’s hand began to move up from her foot to her shin, absentmindedly stroking her skin. Goosebumps covered her body, growing more and more with every passing second.

“Uhm,” her eyes fluttered close, hoping to collect herself. “Bits from the Daemonologie of King James, several tales in Holinshed's Chronicles, and parts of Hector Boece’s book Historia Gentis Scotorum.”

“Good girl.” The praise was spoken all too softy, yet loud enough to force her eyes open, finding his darkening ones within seconds. Spencer was looking at her with something unreadable swimming in his pupils, something that seemed to call her name, begging (y/n) to move closer, to find her way to him with her gaze set on his lips. But she didn’t try to move, not daring to give in first. “Last question, finish the following quote: Was the hope drunk-”

“Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now to look so green and pale, at what it did so freely?” Spencer hummed as (y/n) finished the first parts from Lady Macbeth’s monologue, unable to meet his eyes. She felt him shift, watched him place the sheet down before he turned back towards her.

“From this time such I account thy love. Art thou afeared to be the same in thine own act and valour, as thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that which thou esteem’st the ornament of life, and live a coward in thine own esteem, letting ‘I dare not’, wait upon ‘I would’, like the poor cat i’th’ adage?” Spencer’s words rang in (y/n)’s ears, eyes focused on his wandering hand, moving up her leg till it found her trembling fingers. Their eyes met, wordlessly communicating, forcing her to shift her weight, slowly sitting up.

“You know, if there’s one thing my time at the BAU has taught me, it’s seizing every chance, even if you’re held back by rules you are supposed to follow, if it’s something your heart desires. I’m tired of fighting this, (y/n).” Spencer whispered his words, words that forced a grin onto (y/n)’s lip, barely believing her luck. Perhaps it was the warmth his words pushed through her body, perhaps it was the excitement his words made her feel, whatever it was that guided her on, it forced her to press her lips against Spencer’s before either of them could overthink this very situation.

Within seconds she found herself in Spencer’s lap, thighs placed on either side of his, squeezing them. A moan clawed through the both of them in unison, tongues meeting as their hands started wandering. (Y/n)’s fingers tugged on Spencer’s curls, forcing the man to groan against her mouth as his hands found her behind, squeezing the soft flesh through the thin fabric of her leggings.

“Spencer,” she hummed his name, fingers moving down to his chest, toying with his sweater, desperate to get it off him. “I need you, I want you, all of you."

“You have me, pretty girl, I’m all yours.” A smile widened on (y/n)’s lips as she kissed him again, shifting her weight further against him. The deep groan that left Spencer as her core met his hardening cock made her feel as if she was on fire, needing to feel more of it.

“Bedroom?” All Spencer could do was whisper the word, not trusting his voice, trying to hold back before he’d fuck her ruthlessly on the couch. Wordlessly she guided Spencer to her room, pulling her shirt over her head before he could get his hands on her. The sight left Spencer moaning, teeth nibbling on his lower lip, “You’re so beautiful, more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

“Onto your knees, be a good girl for me.” The shift of his voice, now dripping with dominance, made her walls clench around nothing, watching him plop down near the edge of her bed. She sank to her knees close to him, eyes following his long fingers, watching how they undid his trousers, how they freed his cock.

This moment had something so intimate to it, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t done this much sooner. For a second, she was forced to think of her mother, wondering how she’d react to knowing that Spencer was about to fuck her daughter, thoughts that were swallowed the second (y/n)’s gaze found Spencer’s twitching cock.

“C’mon, open that pretty mouth of yours for me.” Wordlessly she followed his command, eyes rolling back into her head as he forced her lips apart with the red tip of his cock. Groans clawed through Spencer as her tongue explored the parts he had pushed into her mouth, tasting him, feeling him, hoping that she’d never forget this very moment again. “Tap my thigh two times if this is too much for you, sweetheart.”

She hummed around him, choking on her breath as Spencer forced himself deeper down her throat. (Y/n) gagged around him, tears were instantly dripping from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks one by one, but she didn’t dare pull back, wanting to make Spencer proud. He fucked her mouth slowly, trying to keep his moans from growing any louder, not daring to attract any unwanted attention.

“You’re taking me as if you were made for me, such a good girl for me.” His praises left (y/n) moaning around his cock, trying to keep her hands from wandering, needing to take care of the heat growing between her thighs. Spencer could tell how needy she was, how much she wanted to feel his hands on her – a sight that only spurred him on. She was at his mercy, would follow his every command, like his own toy to use, to own, to love.

“I want you to swallow for me, can you do that, pretty girl?” Their eyes met, his blown wide from the lust thumping through his veins, hers glassy from the tears that kept on rolling. She tried to nod, tried to move her head, though without any luck, Spencer’s cock was too deep down her throat, forcing her to hold still. Her hands pumped the parts he didn’t force down her throat, adding more friction to the way he fucked her mouth.

He twitched against her tongue, about to cum down her throat, letting go with a silent groan. (Y/n) watched his head roll back, eyes fluttering close, lips parted – a sight she’d take to grave with her. She swallowed every drop he offered her, groaning at the salty taste, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time he fucked her mouth, the last time she got to taste him.

“Take your clothes off and get onto the bed, sweetheart.” Spencer’s gaze burned straight through her, watching her shuffle out of her sweatpants, panties and bra, bare in front of him. The mere sight of (y/n), naked for him, was enough to leave his cock twitching once again, already begging to feel her around him.

Their eyes held contact as Spencer stepped closer, quickly undressing himself before he rested between her thighs. He pulled her in for a teeth-clashing kiss, hovering over her with his hands exploring her naked body, cupping her breasts, pinching her hardening nipples before they found her dripping core.

“Oh god, feels so good, Spence.” She whispered her words, eyes fluttering close as she felt his warm breath clashing against her soft skin, tongue darting out to run along her folds, tasting her arousal. Spencer took his time with exploring her cunt, thumb rubbing her pulsing bundle as he dipped his tongue into her tightness.

(Y/n) choked on her moans, having to cover her mouth to try and stop her sounds from clawing through her too loudly. He studied her with mischief swimming in his pupils, set on making her thrash around beneath him, body shaking from the first of many orgasms he’d push through her.

His thumb picked up its speed as he pushed two fingers into her, instantly finding her swollen spot, close to making her cum right there. Soft praises left him, praises she couldn’t pick up on, already too far gone, about to cum for him. Her teeth drew blood from her lip, biting into the soft flesh all too forcefully to try and keep her sounds bottled in.

“Cum for me, pretty girl, let go.” Spencer’s words seemed to push her over the edge, holding her close as if he was scared she’d disappear right in front of his eyes, not daring to ever let her out of his sight again. His fingers fucked her through her high, marvelling at (y/n) and her pleasure-drunken features. “You did so well for me, so well.”

“Spence,” (y/n) murmured his name with her voice raspy and exhausted, yet dripping with anticipation. “Fuck me, I need you inside of me.”

“Are you sure?” His hands found her chin, forcing (y/n) to get lost in his pupils, struggling to reply. A soft “Yes” rolled off her tongue, momentarily pushing him away to reach for her nightstand, placing a condom in his hand. They kept holding eye contact as Spencer rolled the condom down his hard cock, as he positioned himself near her entrance, and as he pushed into her all too slowly.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” His curses left her clenching around him, needing to deeply exhale as she tried to adjust to his size. Spencer watched her intently, not daring to move before she quietly whimpered his name, telling him to fuck her. He took his time, wanting to properly enjoy this very moment, feeling her walls flutter around him with every thrust.

(Y/n)’s moans guided him on, eyes staring up at Spencer, at the concentration tugging on his features, on the way his tongue kissed his teeth, on the way his eyes swam with a mixture of love and lust. His name rolled off her tongue every now and then, a mere whisper made for his ears only, a confession that weighed all too heavily, a confession that left both their hearts racing in excitement.

He fucked her faster with every passing second, holding onto the headrest of her bed to try and stop himself from properly destroying her, not wanting to mark her up on their first night together. And even though Spencer tried to control himself, wanting to properly concentrate on (y/n), she couldn’t help but beg for more, letting go of a “Please” every now and then, luring Spencer further into the darkness calling his name.

“Touch yourself for me, pretty, make yourself cum on my cock.” Their eyes kept meeting, watching one another as her fingers circled her overstimulated clit, drawing a few more moans from her slightly parted lips. Spencer knew that he’d never forget this moment, the way she looked so perfectly buried beneath him, made for him only.

“I’m close, Spence, need to cum, please.” Her words drew a “Fuck” from Spencer, knowing that he was just as close as she was. With a small “Cum” leaving Spencer, she let go, choking on her gasps with her eyes closed and her head thrown back. He kept on fucking her, high on the feeling of her, on the way she called his name, on the way she was his only.

Spencer let go a few seconds later, burying his face in the crook of (y/n)’s neck, silencing his sounds. For some moments they were engulfed by a thick blanket of silence, with only their moans echoing through the night, filling her room over and over again. Only as Spencer pulled away, throwing away the condom, did she dare to find her voice again.

“Spence,” the call of his name left him smiling, finding his way back to (y/n)’s bed. “Don’t leave just yet.”

“I’ll stay right here with you, promise, but I’ll be gone before your mom comes home, we can’t risk anything.”

Perhaps breaking rules had some perks to it after all. Perhaps breaking rules wasn’t as awful as people have always told Spencer.

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 months

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Cân i Gymru 2024

It has just occurred to me that I can actually recreate Cân i Gymru for you all through the power of the Internet and Tumblr and such like. Given that Eurovision is out this year, please enjoy the Eurovision of my people.

The artists are much less important to us than the songwriters. Sometimes those are the same people, but sometimes not. The winners of this contest are the songwriters, though, the artists are just a necessary evil.

So! The entries!

youtube

First up! Heno, meaning 'tonight'. The songwriters wanted to write something that would make everyone want to dance :). The artists are therefore a sexy Eurovision-style singer who hits notes I previously have only heard autotuned in Crypt of the Necrodancer, and a funky DJ man. This is the most Eurovision-y song, probably.

youtube

Yr Un Fath (The Same Thing), by Jacob Howells! He wrote this one himself. Lovely lad, from Llanelli. A gentle ballad.

youtube

Again, singing their own song! These are the songwriters! Exciting. This is Cymru yn y Cymylau (Wales in the Clouds), which is a very nice song about how no matter where they go in the world, they see Wales - and by extension their Welshness - in the clouds, staying with them. A route back home.

youtube

Mêl (Honey). Same again, they wrote their own song. This is a song about late stage capitalism and the environment and having hope for the future told through the metaphor of bees. Slight funk/soul vibe. The stage backdrop was increasingly filled with clipart bees.

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Cysgod Coed (The trees' shadow). A ballad about lost love and broken promises. The songwriter is teenage girl Efa Rowlands, the singer is classmate Gwion Phillips.

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This one felt the most like a Swedish Eurovision entry. The singer is half of Welsh band Lofi Jones, but no one even mentioned that, because he didn't write the song, so it's not about him. The song Pethau Yn Newid (Things Are Changing) instead is about how life is moving too fast and we should appreciate the time we have more, because he's aging and everything is changing and he can't keep up. They probably should have gotten someone older to sing it.

youtube

Absolute vocal powerhouse ballad, Ti (You) is part-written and all-performed by music teacher Sara Davies. The lyrics were a love letter her grandfather wrote to her grandmother before he died; Sara then wrote the music for it. The background photos are her grandparents. Her grandmother was actually in the live audience on the night.

youtube

And the last one! Goleuni (Lights) is by a pair of songwriters (one music teacher and one West End star) who wanted to write a song of hope for the dark times, because the world is shit but Still We Persist. They're both talented and established songwriters. The performer is a seventeen year old schoolgirl in the class of one of the songwriters.

~~~~

So!

Anyway I disagreed with the first second and third placings of the Welsh public so hmu Tumblrs who are we choosing

#wales!#closed for cleaning on mondays #welsh musics #Youtube

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 2 months

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It wasn’t over, it still isn’t over. (Bandit cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader) Part 2

Wake up babe, new cowboy Miguel fic just dropped! This part was heavily inspired by the notebook. Period pieces are not my strong suit so apologizes if it’s not good. Not proofread, enjoy!

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, mentions/usage of alcohol, attempted robbery/theft, mentions of guns, Miguel jokes about manhandling you but nothing actually happens, mentions of sexual acts, but nothing happens.

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1

Masterlist

—

Five years.

Five years since you had last seen the cowboy who had stolen your heart.

You had graduated college and moved out of your parents home, moving a few towns over, nowhere near a big city like you lived in during your youth in the East but a lot larger than the one you had lived during the whole Miguel incident. You lived in a nice home, gotten a job as a teacher for the younger kids in town and… you were recently engaged.

Your fiancé was a nice man, sweet, understanding, kind, easy on the eyes, you liked him a lot, the only problem is, you didn’t love him. You should feel bad about getting married to a wealthy man who you didn’t even see as more than of a friend, but at the same time, your mother thought it would be best to marry you off to her friend’s son that just so happened to be inheriting his father’s liquor business when he settled down. It was a marriage of convenience if anything, at least he was polite with you despite neither you or him having any romantic feelings, if anything it made the whole thing a bit easier for you. Growing content with the fact that this would turn into your future children’s definition of love.

Five years to grow from a silly lovestruck teenager into a young woman with responsibilities and a bright future ahead of her, and you still thought about him. You can't help but frantically Miguel’s name under the obituary section of the town’s paper, unknowingly breathing a sigh of relief when his name wouldn’t appear. Although it was foolish, and despite no longer living in the same small town as your parents, you couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter at the fact he hasn’t found you yet. Was he even attempting to look for you? With a reputation like his, you’re certain you weren’t the first girl he’s charmed to get under his sheets… or in your case, jail cell. So, eventually, you stopped hoping, if he hadn’t found you during the last five years, he surely wasn’t looking. Why should you?

—

“Darling.” Your fiancé, Austin, called out for you before rounding the corner that connected the living room into the kitchen. You hummed in response as you kept your eyes on the stack of papers you were currently grading for your students, a pen in your dominant hand as your free one tapped a mindless tone to help keep you concentrated. “Put the papers down and take a break will you? You’ve got all week to grade those tests.” You let out a huff and a whine as you put the pen down, he was right. Your eyes keep unfocusing and your wrist was being to grow sore, making your fiancé tsk. “I don’t understand why you don’t just quit, I make enough to support us both.”

“I should,shouldn't I…” You contimplacted with a weary chuckle, and although your tone was joking, you were seriously considering it. You adored your students with all your heart, you really did. But the school was putting so much pressure on you because they refused to hire another teacher to help lessen your workload. So you and two other teachers were juggling a handful of 300 seven year olds, it was a lot… to say the least. You picked yourself up from your seat to stretch your body out, before turning to Austin. “Now was that all you came to tell me?” You asked in a playful tone.

“No, actually… I came to ask for a favor.” He admitted, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “Ya know I’ve got that… liquor convention event out of town this weekend, right?” You nodded in confirmation, “well, I was wondering if you could do me the favor of just checking in on my office while I’m gone. I’ve heard a lot about break ins and whatnot during these times, just drop by for a few minutes for the 4 days that I’ll be gone.”

You tapped the nonsensical rhythm again as you thought about it, it wasn’t too much of an ask, you’d just drop by for a few minutes a day, you shrugged. “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen?”

—

Saturday afternoon, your first day off and your third alone. Grateful for the ability to sleep in and being about to eat a well rounded breakfast. After doing your usual morning routine, and having changed into one of your simpler dresses to go out and run some errands for the day.

Gone out to get groceries, send out a letter to your parents, went to the tailors to drop off some Austin’s shirts to be hemmed since you didn’t feel like sitting down all to do it yourself, even finished grading the last of the test all before noon ended. After tidying up your work from its usual spot from the kitchen table, you made yourself a quick lunch and went to read a few chapters of your book on the couch. Only to end up falling asleep, and once you woke up, you glanced at the clock-shit.

“It’s half past five?! I was supposed to go to his office an hour ago!” You yelled to no one but yourself as you quickly got up from your spot on the couch, fixing your hair quickly as you threw on your coat, and made your way back out the door.

—

“I told ya boys this heist would be easy… if we leave by dusk we could hit up that train that passes by el dorado tomorrow evening…” Miguel chuckled as he tossed his now full bag of valuables to his brother, who then passed it over Peter would load it to one of their horses that they had waiting for them around the back of the building.

After that night he had escaped, it took him about a month to find his partners in crime, following their trail through stolen newspapers from random porches and the knowledge of how their usual trail was, luckily they had kept his horse safe and well taken care of too.

“One more bag then we’re as good as gone.” Miguel said with a smirk, making Gabriel Let out a laugh and a clap. Right when Miguel was going to prep the last bag, the faint noise of rushing made all three men stop in their tracks. Before he sent his younger brother a glare and he hissed in a low tone through his teeth. “Pinche cabrón- I thought you said this place would be empty all weekend.” (Fucking dumbass)

“I thought it would!” He whispered-shouted back, before they heard the door creak open.

“Fuck-okay… um, go check if it’s the sheriff.” He quietly ordered Gabriel, before turning to Peter, “Get the horses ready incase we needa’ book It.” With a nob both males did as told, as Miguel quickly went to pack the last bag.

When his younger brother entered the front room, he swore he heard him mutter the words “hello pretty lady” before the muffle sound of rustling and some high-pitched yelping, but never was a shot fired, so clearly it couldn’t have been someone to play an immediate threat. Just as he was finishing tying up the bag, Gabriel came back into the room, but not alone.

“Look at what I found, it must be his little wife.” He said almost mockingly as he hazardly pulled you into the room and pushed you into the room in front of Miguel’s feet, but with your face being tilted down as you caught yourself from falling face first onto the wooden floor.

“Careful!” You yelled as you try to collect yourself, once you get yourself to look up at the bandit you were dropped in front of, your scowl immediately turned into once of disbelief, and it seems his expression matched yours.

You both seem to have froze up in time as you both did nothing but stare at each other, Gabriel just crossed his arms and raised a brow, Peter came jogging in to inform his friends the horses are ready when he saw the odd scene, opting to keep his mouth shut.

Finally, you came back to life as you blinked, as if expecting his to disappear right before your very eyes again, and when he didn’t, you finally whispered a faint. “…Miguel?”

“…(Y/N)…” You nodded your head, despite it not being a question, and he cleared his throat, not breaking eye contact with you as he spoke his next orders to Peter and Gabriel. “Unload all that shit and put it back.”

—

He had told Gabriel and Peter to go on to do the train heist without him, and that he'd meet up with them afterwards. Saying he had “unattended business to take care of”. So now here he was, in your kitchen, only being lightened up by a few candles as darkness overtook the sky. Both of you sharing drunken giggles over dinner. Miguel’s black cowboy hat that was certainly too big for you sitting on top of your head as you sip on your beer.

“That hat looks adorable on you.” Miguel chuckled, making you shake your head with a giggle, your free hand going to rest on top of the hat to help keep it stabilized.

“It’s so big!” You countered as you take the hat off and went to hand it back to Miguel, who grabs it and sets it back on his head.

“You know you shouldn’t be wearing just anyone’s hat. Ya know what they say about wearing a man’s cowboy hat.” He joked as he put down his now empty bottle, chuckling when he saw your face contour in confusion.

“What do they say?” You asked curiously, making Miguel’s smirk widen.

“Wear the hat…” he tapped the brim on the hat for emphasis, “Ride the cowboy.” He finished, making you gasp dramatically.

“Miguel! That’s inappropriate!” You pretended to be offended, but you couldn’t help but crack a smile near the end of you reprimanding him.

“Oh please, you act like you haven’t before, why not again? Unless you want me to come over then and manhandle you.” He was only joking of course, he may have been a thief and a murderer but he’d never hurt a woman, especially not you. You let out a faux gasp, playing along as your right hand goes to your chest for emphasis.

“You wouldn’t dare. I’m a married woman.” You said in a softer tone, going to sip your bottle to finish it off. You haven’t really told him you were going to be getting married soon, even though he knew you were in a relationship, he didn’t quite know how serious it was.

“Not yet.” He replied almost immediately, shaking his head as his playful tone dropped to a more serious yet still gentle tone. The soft smile stays on his lips but it didn’t meet his eyes anymore when you raised your hand to show off the silver band that decorates your ring finger, the diamond shining even only in the candlelight. It took you a moment too long to realize this.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, the start of a giggle comes out with your words but they quickly die down in your throat as the once playful atmosphere starts to turn more serious.Miguel just shakes his head as a hand goes to rub at his chin.

“Nothing nothing… just didn’t think you’d ever get married… thought what we had was something real.” He admitted, eyes casted downwards as he goes to fidget with a bent half beer bottle cap. You let out a scoff, offended by his words.

“Don’t try and think I just forgot about you the moment my father dragged me out of that door,” your brows furrowed and your arms crossed on the wooden table as you started to chastise him, “I was stuck on you for five years Miguel. Five. Years.” You emphasized the two words with taps on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, Austin is a great guy, but it was my parents' idea for me to marry him. They thought it was a good way to get me to stop thinking about you-“ You shouldn’t be admitting that outloud but the buzz made your mind hazy.

“Do you love him?” He interrupted you, eyes burning into yours, those same intense eyes you had dreamed about as you slept, you had to look away.

“It’s not that simple Miguel-“

“But it is.” He insisted, standing up from his seat, the chair screeching as it tried not to topple over. “You either love him or you don’t.”

“I’m not doing this with you Miguel.” You shook your head as you stood as well, going to clean up the mess you two had made, trying to erase any evidence you two were there.

“Too bad, I’m not just gonna drop this and let you disappear from my life, I’m not losing you again.” He declared, you weren’t going to justify his admission with a response, but as you go to pick up a few empty bottles, they slip from your hands, cracking into hundreds of small shreds as Miguel’s hands turn you around to face him. A shocked gasp begins to leave your lips before it is quickly swallowed up by his. You know you should push him off, but you couldn’t help but melt underneath his touch.

Miguel O’Hara was a criminal, a thief of many things and no matter how much you try to stop him, he’ll always find a way to steal your heart all over again.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @xevita @marshhbs @inlovewithpandora @vera4luv @mcmiracles @eddieslooneymoonie @to-the-endoftheline

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naeviskz · 2 months

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WHIRLWIND ๑‧˚₊ ─── HHJ

synopsis ; you overreact just a teensy bit when you see hyunjin talking to another girl, but when you find out the actual reason why … you try everything you can to make it up to him.

genre 숌 non-idol au, boyfriend!hyunjin x girlfriend!reader | established relationship

words - 3.6k tags/warnings 숌 fluff, (some) angst? pwp, smut, reader gets very jealous easily/has possessive tendencies, small mentions of insecurities, v v v clingy & needy gf, marking, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (m), lowkey daddy kink, hj has a big cawk, breeding kink cause that’s my fave tehe. i will preface that oc kinda has a toxic way of thinking and it’s def not healthy to act this way irl !!

now playing 🎧 : cool with you by newjeans, streets by doja cat

☆ 彡

[ this my first ever writing that has smut in it so bear w/ me pls ;-; i’m still learning how to do this right haha, but lmk if you enjoyed this at all <3 **not proofread btw ! ]

“Let’s go on that one next Jinnie!!” You squeal like a giddish teenager as you point to the ride up ahead, violently pulling on Hyunjin’s hand his entire arm might just fall off.

It’ll be your 1 year anniversary in approximately a week, and what better way to pre celebrate than going to the amusement park and watching fireworks at night? You haven’t been to one in years, reminiscing all those times you were a kid innocently frolicking around, not having a single care in the world. Since you’re a fully grown adult now it’s an altered experience, you’re able to pick up on social cues and no longer need parental supervision. You forgot just how thrilling it was to let loose and have fun, all while spending it with your lovely boyfriend.

The current ride you’re both getting on is essentially a giant wooden pirate ship that swings in a horizontal motion, elevating you high up in the air. You don’t do heights very well but Hyunjin’s a little daredevil who gets off on the adrenaline rush. He’s tried convincing you to do skydiving but that’s just something you refuse to compromise on. Before going on the pirate ship ride you went on the teacups, which was probably your favorite one of today. You couldn’t stop giggling and teasing Hyunjin over how incredibly fast he was spinning the turn-wheel, almost forgetting that you were also supposed to contribute. Spending quality time with your boyfriend like this means everything to you, he makes you feel like you’re floating on a pink cloud whenever you’re together. Like nothing else matters but you and him.

As the day progressed, what was once a milky, pale blue sky has now become a smoky dull atmosphere. Night was approaching any minute, making the temperature drop dramatically— you regret leaving the house in just shorts and a crop top. Your limbs shaking and trembling involuntarily from gusts of cool air the wind casually blows, Hyunjin seems to take note of this and takes action immediately.

“Want my hoodie babe?” Hyunjin asks out of concern, ready to yank it off the minute you agree.

You profusely nod at his offer, unable to withstand the frigid weather for another second. He pauses momentarily to grab the hem of his Versace sweatshirt with his free hand, swiftly drawing it over his head and handing it to you. Underneath he wore a thin plain white tee, now suffering from the cold— but any sacrifice is worthy of making for his precious babygirl.

Quickly putting it on, your body feels instantly warmer from his body heat still embedded into the soft fabric. “You saved me Jinnie, I almost turned into a human popsicle!” Were you exaggerating a bit? Maybe, but that’s beside the point. You’re all cozy now in Hyunjin’s oversized hoodie, loving the fact that only you get to wear his clothes.

His eyes shape into crescents as he flashes an adoring smile, “my diet would only consist of peach flavored ___ popsicles for the rest of my life then.”

You swear he’s just the cutest, most adorable, sweetest thing to have ever walked this earth. Sometimes you wonder how you got so lucky to end up with a person as charming, and perfect as Hyunjin. He’d say the same about you too but there’s another layer to how you feel. You’re often very over protective and territorial over him, needing to know exactly where he is at all times and who he’s hanging out with. Most of the time he’s with you, either at your place or at his. There was a set routine you two had at this point, after he’s done with work he’ll call and let you know he’s on his way to yours. Hyunjin knows how paranoid you can get when he’s gone for too long so he makes sure to communicate with you as much as he can throughout the day. It’s hard to deal with someone as high maintenance as you but he makes it work, he likes that you’re always worried and concerned about him — he’d rather have a girlfriend like that than one who doesn’t care about him.

“Looks like the sun should be setting soon.. won’t be much longer ‘til the fireworks start!” You cheer out of excitement, part of the reason you wanted to come was to see them.

He nods in agreement, “you’re right, is there anything else you wanna ride before they start?”

As if your brain answered before you could even think, “You.”

His doe eyes widened at your bold reply, never quite getting used to your subtle dirty mind. “I’ll give you that in due time, don’t worry mamas.”

A little bit later on you challenged Hyunjin to try the ‘test your strength’ game and of course he couldn’t pass up a moment to impress you. He gets into a competitive sports stance, gripping the hammer tightly before he swung hard at the puck. The meter flew straight up and hit the bell on his first try, able to win whatever prize he wanted from the largest section. He lets you choose whichever plushy you wanted, a giant fluffy pink stuffed unicorn that you held in your other hand that wasn’t occupied with Hyunjin’s.

“Hyunjinnieee, ‘m getting kinda hungry,” you childishly whine in hopes of getting him to buy you both food.

Before he could even get a response out your eyes were already fixated on something. The glowing neon lights of a food stand selling mozzarella corn dogs, you’ve always wanted to try those as you see them all the time on TikTok. Without hesitation you make a mad dash for the line as you drag your innocent boyfriend along for the adventure. As you got closer you realize the lines pretty spread out, there was at least 20+ people waiting but you were willing to stay as you really wanted one.

Hyunjin detaches his hand from yours, making you question his sudden intentions, “be right back babe, m’gonna go to the restroom.” He politely excuses himself, “here’s my card just in case I don’t make it back in time.” Pulling his credit card from his wallet to hand you before venturing off.

“Don’t be gone for too long please, or else I’ll come find you myself.” You were dead serious too, honestly speaking you didn’t necessarily want him out of your sight but you trust that he’ll come back in a reasonable amount of time. Hopefully.

“I promise babe.” He reassures, giving a quick peck to your forehead before vanishing into the crowd.

After what seemed like an eternity, you manage to secure the corn dogs and pay for them with Hyunjin’s card. Realizing now that your boyfriend is still gone, it’s been a good 15-20 minutes and he promised that he’d be back. Now you have to go looking for him like a mother who’s just lost their child. Scanning every area of the park you came across, you begin to feel anxious when you don’t see him anywhere. A range of negative thoughts intrude your mind with possibilities of where he could’ve gone. What you weren’t expecting was for your intuition to be exactly spot on.

There he was standing in front a taco truck, talking and laughing with another girl. A girl you absolutely do not recognize and have no clue why or what she’s doing even having a conversation with your man. You couldn’t move at all, frozen in place as you watched the scene fold out in front of you, making you more livid as it continues. The mystery girl was pissing you off by the minute, the tiny skirt she wore barely left anything to the imagination and her body language was way too close for comfort for your liking. You had to put a stop to this immediately.

Slowly you make your way up to them, examining the situation further. The blonde girl tries to loom even closer to Hyunjin but he backs away a bit, a sheer look of fear and paranoia in his eyes. She keeps talking to him but he doesn’t really say much back, only half smiling and nodding. What makes you pick up your pace at lightning speed was when he pulls his phone out from his back pocket, as if he’s about to ask for her number.

You’ve seen enough, it’s time to intervene now.

Practically sprinting up to them you see the girl perk up when she sees you, giving a friendly wave and inviting smile as if she wasn’t just trying to steal your man a second ago. You’re ready to rip this bitches hair out and show her that she’s picked the wrong one to mess with today.

“Oh hi, you must be ___, it’s so good to finally meet you!” Her voice was so squeaky and high-pitched, not even in a cute way, just obnoxiously loud and annoying.

…How the fuck does this girl know who you are?

“Who the hell is this?” You snap at Hyunjin, completely ignoring the girl’s presence, “How does she know you?”

“I’m— ”

“I believe I asked my boyfriend, not you. Who is she?” You rudely cut her off to reiterate the question.

Hyunjin looks like he’s just witnessed a murder, his own murder to be exact. “This is Valerie, we went to high school together, I was just showing her your freelance work and all the cool designs you make ‘cause she’s looking for graphic designers and I think you’re really talented babe.”

Your heart just sank to the pit of your stomach. The balled up fist your right hand was clenching soon released itself, no longer in fight mode but flight mode from the sudden embarrassment you’re internally battling.

“Oh..”

“Uh, well it was nice talking to you Hyunjin! I’ll go find my husband now, but your graphics are incredible ___ and I’d love to hire you for a couple projects I have lined up. Here’s my business card!” She hands you the flimsy card stock and leaves in an instant.

Now you feel totally ridiculous for almost causing a scene and cursing out the girl and your boyfriend for just wanting to promote your work. You owe him an apology big time.

“I thought you were…”

“Flirting with another girl, seriously? You think I have a death wish or something? Of course I’d never try something like that. The first thing she saw was you as my lock screen when I checked the time. Plus she’s married, I don’t think she’d be that dumb.” Hyunjin further proves his case, making sure not to leave any details out.

“M’sorry baby, please forgive me.” You plead for forgiveness, regressing back to your softer, more gentle side “lemme make it up to you daddy.”

“Nngh! Hyunjin-” you keen into his ear as you rub your clothed heat against his toned thigh, holding onto him for stable support.

You seriously felt bad for acting out like that earlier, all you want to do now is make him feel so good he forgets all about your previous unhinged behavior. Lord knows what you’d do if you ever lose someone so important to you. You can’t think about that right now though. Right now was all about him and making him feel good, but you can’t help but get something out of it as well.

The backseat of his car was a bit cramped as he decided to take his smaller convertible instead of the SUV, not exactly bargaining that later on you’d be getting freaky in his vehicle. Nonetheless you enjoy each other’s company, not needing much space anyway — if anything you wanted to be as close to him as possible. If you could get inside his skin you probably would. You love Hyunjin more than yourself, often feeling like you aren’t good enough to be with him. Maybe the reason you’re so protective and jealous is because you fear he’ll leave you for someone better.

Lazily trailing your lips down further, placing small pecks here and there until you land on his neck, adorned with a dainty silver chain, nuzzling your face into the crook of it. He smells so good, the cologne he’s wearing along with his natural pheromones is an intoxicating concoction. You stick your tongue out, gliding the wet muscle over his bare skin, still feverishly rutting into him while listening to his ethereal moans.

“Mmm.. I love you.” He murmurs under his breath, slipping his hands underneath (his) your hoodie to feel you up. His hands travel upwards to find the valley of your breasts, still covered by the bra you’re wearing he slides underneath the cups to lightly squeeze them.

You nibble on his neck in response, harshly sucking on the flesh to leave visible love bites, you want to make it abundantly clear to the whole world Hwang Hyunjin belongs to you.

“I love you more Hyunjinnie,” you stop for a brief moment to say, “gonna prove it.” Which you will once you’re satisfied with marking his entire neck and chest with dozens of purple and red hickeys.

Even though he’s touching you, grinding his hard length into you and purring out your name, you need more. Craving to see and feel more of him, you tug at the hem of his t-shirt in hopes he catches your drift.

“Off. Now.” You demand sharply, getting more impatient by the second.

He obliges instantly, stripping the garment off his body to reveal the most gorgeous set of abs you’ve laid your eyes upon, he’s so unreal it makes you constantly question if you’re dreaming. You went from his neck to kissing his plump lips, his hand cupping the side of your face to deepen the kiss, both so desperate and horny for each other. Running your manicured hands down his beautiful body, just the tiniest flexing Hyunjin does with his muscles makes you go crazy. You need him to manhandle you, have you bent over and get fucked senselessly.

“Lie back Jinnie, m’gonna suck you off.” You command him to move, getting up from him so he can pivot into a more comfortable position.

He shuffles around, leaning into the leather seat before quickly undoing his pants and sliding them down his ankles. You get on your knees, disappearing between his legs to come in contact with his stiff erection. Tracing figure eights on his thighs, he hisses from your delicate touch. You couldn’t resist planting a chaste kiss to his stomach, leaving another wet kiss to his v-line. Any little touch makes Hyunjin’s heart beat out of his chest, he can’t get enough of you just as you can’t of him— high off each other like an addictive, psychoactive drug.

As you finally free his cock from the last barrier, his boxer briefs, you’re in awe from just how much precum he’s leaking already. His length stood straight up resting on his stomach, faint veins protruding around the shaft. You kiss his pretty pink tip while looking up at him with innocent eyes, grabbing the base of his cock, opening your mouth just a little to provide a few kitten licks. You’ve only just started but he feels like he’s going to come undone already.

“Shit-” he lowly grunts, feeling his cock pulsate in your tiny hand.

Taking him further in your mouth now, you manage to fit half of his length, bobbing your head up and down while keeping a tight suction on his cock. Hyunjin involuntarily rocks his hips into you, making you gag just a little from how big he is. You could never fit all of him (except for that one time you were super drunk and magically forgot what a gag reflex was) but you still try your best and that’s all that matters to him. He loves that you’re always willing to give him random blowjobs whenever and wherever, you both love public sex and the idea of possibly being caught. You take a short break to collect more saliva, spitting on his cock and spreading it with your hand to make it even messier. His mouth was permanently agape, staring down at you with lust filled eyes, not knowing how much longer he can last. When you start pumping his cock much faster along with swirling your tongue around it , he thinks he might just lose it. Panting heavily, he shifts underneath you in attempt to get you to stop but you keep sucking like the cock hungry slut you are for him. He’s seriously going to nut any minute if you continue at this rate.

“Babe.. you’re gonna make me cum if you keep this up…” he closes his eyes, almost giving in to what’s inevitably about to come.

“Isn’t that the goal?” You ask quickly before going back.

“No,” he says, slightly frustrated with you for not obeying, “fucking this tight little pussy is.”

You’re confused when he’s pulling you away from him, moving you from the floor and back onto his lap all in one swift action, manhandling you for real this time. “What’re you doing!” You raise your voice at him like a brat, to which he spanks your behind in response.

“Shh.. relax.” He shuts you up by pulling you in for a slow, sensual kiss.

You moan into his mouth, melting right into his touch like always. “Need you so bad please..” you whine for to feel more of him.

“Tell me what you need, I’ll give it to you baby.” He promises, lacing his fingers in your hair, looking at you with pure admiration.

“Your cock.. need your big fat cock inside me now,” you beg like a good girl, “please daddy, i’m literally soaking for you.” Shameless at this point with how you talk, but you know the dirtier you get the more Hyunjin likes it.

He can’t say no when you ask so polite that. “I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you want princess.”

And he does.

Once he rids you of your shorts and underwear, you’re back on top of him, lining yourself up with his thick cock that slides right in from you being so ready.

“Fuck you’re so wet baby.. you take this cock so well cutie,” he praises you in the hottest way possible. You’ll never get tired of hearing him talk like this to you, hence why you love to have sex so much.

“Only for you daddy.” You breathlessly spoke, getting used to his length for a moment before beginning to move. Slowly bouncing up and down his member at first until Hyunjin slams his cock into you, walls clenching as you feel every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him in slow motion to picking up your speed, placing both hands around his neck. Hyunjin throws his head back in pleasure, wrapping his hand around your waist as the other grips the soft flesh of your ass.

“Mine… your cock is mine,” you’re going faster and faster, crying out as he matches your movements, thrusting back into you hard. “Only I get to ride this everyday.”

He doesn’t hesitate to agree, letting you know exactly who he belongs to. “I’m all yours babygirl, can have this cock as much as you want, use me to get yourself off..”

You feel like you’re about to come soon, legs shaking and spasming from his girth splitting you open. “Yes baby..” you couldn’t think straight anymore, “love your cock so much Jinnie..” You mewl from being so full and cockstuffed “mmph.. wanna have your babies.”

“Yeah? Want me to fill your little cunt with all my cum and get you pregnant, hmm ? That what you want pretty girl?” He sounded so pussy drunk he couldn’t even blame you for wanting to any of this.

One more thrust was all it took for the thread to unravel inside of you, seeing white, glowing stars as you get closer to your orgasm.

“Jinnie kiss me.”

He does as he’s told, grabbing your face to kiss you roughly, entering his tongue in your mouth to intertwine with yours. He’s so good at everything he does it’s insane. Maybe if the dick wasn’t so damn good you wouldn’t be half as crazy.

“I’m so close princess..” he announces, slipping one of his long, slender digits onto your clit, coaxing your release.

“Me too.”

Everything feels ultra sensitive to you as you approach your climax, whimpering as Hyunjin sucks on your perked nipples while you continue riding him. A sudden rambunctious crackling sound startles the both of you, but what you weren’t expecting to see outside were fireworks lighting up the night sky. You’d completely forgot how excited you were to see them, watching in amazement as all the vibrant colors morph together. Leaning in to tenderly kiss your boyfriend who was also momentarily distracted, you get back right to business, chasing after your highs. Hyunjin finishes inside you like you wanted, feeling his hot seed spill into your aching heat. You came undone shortly after, holding onto him while your bare chests collide. Fireworks detonate inside your body as they do outside.

As if the universe had orchestrated the perfect 1 year anniversary pre celebration just for the two of you; a perfect moment to seal your love with the glittering magic of romance and fireworks combined. Hyunjin’s so happy to have met someone like you, someone who loves him so passionately and so deeply. He may not understand why you think the way you do sometimes, or react with such brash methods, but he knows that you do it out of pure love. It’s a whirlwind of emotions dating you but he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world or have it any other way.

- 完 ♡︎

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anothermansjeans · 6 days

Text

you know how to ball, i know aristotle

s.r x f!reader

summary: spencer's love feels so high school

warnings: none!

wc: 689 (she's short!)

a/n: inspired by so high school!! i have 50 different fics planned after listening to ttpd.......be prepared

It felt childish in a way. The way Spencer feels his cheeks flush and a chill run down his body whenever she’s near him. The constant butterflies. The shyness he feels when she's around. The high he gets from being near her. It feels like he’s a teenager in love.

Right now, the feeling remains as he watches Y/N and the rest of the team that fills the bullpen play a makeshift game of basketball with a trash bin and crumpled up paper. Whenever she makes a basket, she snaps her head over to him to see if he was looking– of course he was– and his chest fills with pride. Once her turn was over though, his head went right back down to his current read, something about Greek philosophers.

“Pretty Boy!”

His head immediately went back up at the sound of Morgan calling out to him. “Hmm?”

“We need reinforcements. Your girl is kicking our asses over here.”

A red wave flooded his neck, making its way up to his face, and he moved his chair back the tiniest bit, giving a small nod as he tried to hide his shy smile. He felt the way one would if they were asked to play kiss, marry, kill with their crush’s name thrown in there. Honestly, he’d be content if she did all three to him.

From there on, the game went terribly. While Y/N was making shot after shot, Emily was barely making it around the rim, Derek made it every other time, and Spencer was so far off it was pointless in asking him to join (but he knew the ball wasn't weighted properly, and he’d die on that hill). It didn't take long for those who were losing to become uninterested in the game, so everything eventually went back to business.

That was until Spencer felt a pair of hands gently knead into his shoulders.

Normally, he would tense up immediately. He wouldn't want to be touched– he’d be questioning why someone was touching him. But he knew it was Y/N. He’s become accustomed to her delicate touch; the smell of her lotion; the light reflecting off of the promise ring he bought her for their last anniversary. She would massage his shoulders until he was completely relaxed against her, allowing her to lean forward more and wrap her arms around his neck, placing her chin on his shoulder.

“I had a lot of fun earlier. You did well.”

He let out a giddy laugh as he craned his neck in order to look at her. The same giddy feeling a teenager gets when playing spin the bottle and truth or dare spread through his body whenever he’s this close to her, it truly never fails.

“I’m glad. I absolutely embarrassed myself with my lack of skill, but I’m glad at least someone enjoyed it.”

“Hey,” she shifted slightly so that she was directly looking at him all while keeping her chin perched on him. “You didn't embarrass yourself. We all have things we’re good at. Like, look at this.” She lazily gestured to the books scattered across his desk, “I couldn't even begin to describe what you're reading. You’re brilliant, Spence.”

“It’s called The Philosophy of Aristotle. It’s a selection of Aristotle’s works and–” he stopped himself, watching the way Y/N was completely mesmerized by what he had to say.

“Keep going. I've done my reports and I’m sure you've finished yours. We have plenty of time.” She kissed his cheek as a way to get him to start speaking again, and he felt on top of the world.

It was childish, really. The constant buzz he felt when speaking to her. The crinkles he can feel by his eyes from smiling so hard. The childlike wonder at how someone could be so perfect for him. No one’s ever had him like her. He felt as though this is what he would've felt if he had a normal childhood, one where he had a high school sweetheart. And despite it feeling so high school, he loves it. He loves her.

#idk how i feel about this but i tried!!#dr spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction

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decojellyfish · 3 months

Text

New Friend!

Hi, this is my first post! So please be nice, and if you have any constructive criticism, please comment! I hope you like it :)

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Hybrid AU! TF141 Fancy Kitty! Reader x Rescue Dog! Ghost and Rescue Dog! Soap (Feat. a tiny bit of x Owner! Price) Reader acts fem but is only addressed with “you”

SFW ~ Fluff (Tiny bit of angst, if you squint) Warnings: Mentions of death (though, not directly)

───♡───────────── Beginning Your life was everything you could ask for. Always brushed, fed the finest cuisine a kitty could ask for, and wearing the finest items your owner got you. Your favorite was a collar that looked like a pearl necklace, similar to the one your owner wore daily. Your fur smelled like her too, vintage perfume (her favorite from when she was a teenager, though she always talked about how it was hard to come by now in the modern day), and those little strawberry bonbons she always kept in her purse. And you would always have a pretty pink bow tied around the base of your fluffy tail. Resting your head in her lap, her aged hands petting your white fluffy ears or brushing them with this one brush. A beautiful golden brush, with an ivory plaque on the back that had roses, tulips, and violets painted. It was her favorite from when she was a little girl. Life is good, life is paradise.

Until one day, she didn’t get out of bed. You were still curled up in your pink fluffy cat bed, waiting to hear her sweet voice call out your name whilst serving up your borderline gourmet breakfast. After about an hour, your confusion pushed you out of bed and made you go to your owner’s room. She was still sleeping? Maybe she had a rough time sleeping last night and just felt like sleeping in. Yeah, that was it! She was pretty old after all, why wouldn’t she want to sleep in once in a while? So you curled up atop the floral bedsheets, nice and close to your owner, and waited for her to wake up. You knew she would love to wake up to her pretty little kitty all snuggled up because you missed her so much! So you waited. And waited.

And waited.

A few days passed. Wow, this must’ve been the sleepiest old woman you’d have ever seen! She even had visitors and she didn’t even wake up. It was kind of strange though. They were crying as if they were watching one of those sad movies your owner would watch, with you curled up beside her. The day your world came crashing down would be the day these strange people came to your owner’s house. One of them guided you down to the kitchen, proceeding to feed you some random wet food they found on the counter. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were while you were waiting for your owner to wake up. You hadn’t even noticed the other people carrying your owner’s body out of the house while this one person was playing with you. Jingling your favorite bell toy, calling you a “precious little kitty, so beautiful, yes you are!” the whole time.

That’s when he came into the picture. He came in an hour after these people arrived, it was John Price. Your owner’s son. He had come to visit her a few times, you enjoyed his presence when he was visiting. Price approached you and began to pet your silky, fluffy white hair and fur. “Hey there, pretty thing. How’ve you been holding up?” You didn’t know what he meant by that, but your purrs were all he needed to hear to not fret over you. He figured you were okay and ready to go with him. When he began to guide you out to his car, that was when you realized that he was taking you somewhere! He reassured you that your owner wouldn’t mind having you go on a little trip. You didn’t know you were headed to Price’s own house, all of your belongings in his trunk unbeknownst to you. You, in the present, wouldn’t be mad at Price for taking you home with him and becoming your new owner. No, you wouldn’t mind that at all, John Price was a lovely person! Like his mother. What made you pissed at him was the fact that he never mentioned the two dog hybrids he also had ownership of. That also lived in the house.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price had told Ghost and Soap, his two rescue dogs, about the new arrival of a new addition to the family. That of which is a cat. Ghost wasn’t excited about the thought of a cat being in the house all day, every day. It annoyed him, he never really liked cats. Soap, on the other hand, was very excited to meet the new kitty. He had been waiting, impatiently, by the door ever since Price had gone off to retrieve the cat hybrid. Once Price had finally returned, Soap was ecstatic. He pounced on the first being that entered the doorway, licking their face all over. That first being was you. You screeched and hissed at the seemingly rabid dog that was coating you in slobber. He was mucking up your hair, too! Once Soap realized that it wasn’t Price, but, the new kitty that Price had brought home, he grew even more elated. Before he could continue any further with his slobber, Price had pulled Soap away from you, giving you time to breathe. Your tail was beyond fluffy now, you were terrified. Your claws were out and almost gripping the welcome mat by the front door. Soap was confused, Ghost’s guard was up, and Price knew in the back of his head that something like this would happen.

It took you a while to settle in, you were still frightened by the dogs and would try to maintain a distance from them. Ghost would happily oblige, avoiding you whenever you were around. Soap, not so much. He ruined his first impression meeting you! He scared you, and that is not what a good dog does. So, he spent all day and night all over you. He would tell you about his day, and ask you about yours, only for you to stay quiet, and then he would continue talking to you. Soap LOVED being around you. Why wouldn’t he? You’re such a pretty kitty, you smelled good, and your fur was so soft and silky! He loved pawing at the little bell attached to your pink ribbon collar. It was so cute! You looked like royalty with it. Ghost, on the other hand, would mumble about how uppity you seemed. Spoiled, bratty. I mean, at some points you did act like that. Whenever Price didn’t get the right food for you, whenever the sun wasn’t shining in the right spot for you to bask in it, or how loud and annoying the boys’ squeaky toys were. You and Ghost would often avoid each other. Whenever you would accidentally brush up against each other in the halls, it would result in you hissing and him growling loudly, baring his teeth. Price would have to step in and separate you two, telling you both to quit it. But back to Soap, who is an absolute lovebug when it comes to you. He would come by and curl up right next to you whenever you were curled up and lying in the sunlight. At first, you would get up and leave to a new spot. But eventually, you gave up and let him curl up as close to you as he wanted to. Through Soap’s constant yapping, you find out that both he and Ghost were survivors of illegal underground dog fighting. They were from different parts of the UK, but they both ended up at the same shelter. That’s how they met Price. Soap would point out all of his scars, telling their backstories, and talking about all the other injuries he went through. He would also compliment you, as well as attempt to pamper you. You had to give him instructions on how your owner used to do it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It smelled of overwhelming masculinity in the house. It was such a drastic change from the old lady perfume and flowers that your old home smelled like. It took you a bit to get adjusted to the lack of floral prints that your new home had. One day, you were especially homesick. Even though you were in your new, permanent, home, you still missed your old home. It was foggy out that day, the weather not helping your mood at all. You were curled up on the couch as you looked out the window with sad eyes, your fluffy tail flicking around as you were deep in thought. You hadn’t even noticed Soap and Ghost staring at you, they could smell the sadness radiating off of you. It was a slightly pungent smell compared to your usual scent that smelled of fresh flowers. It made Soap whine and quickly approach you. He curled up close to you, trying to soothe you, bring you out of your sad thoughts, with his warmth. It did help, it brought you out of your deep thoughts. But you still smelled of sadness. You would curl up against him, letting out a tiny sigh.

Then Ghost curled up next to you.

That was a first. He had always avoided you, per your request. But you didn’t mind this sudden act of affection. It was nice, you got a better chance to identify the keynotes of his scent. With Soap being around you so much, you had no choice but the memorize what he smelled like. Musk, timber wood, vanilla, and tiny hints of coconut. Part of that was because of the shampoo that Price would wash him in during bath nights. You had always kind of known what Price smelled like, what with him visiting your old owner every so often. Dirt, but not in a dirty way, an earthy way, smokey, toffee, and sandalwood. Cozy. You eventually came around and stopped being so mad at him for not telling you about his dog hybrids. Especially since you started to like them now. Kind of. Ghost, he always kind of smelled smokey. But not like Price. Price smelled smokey in a round way. Ghost smelled smokey in a sharper way. Kind of a difference between cigars and pungent cigarettes. But now that he was sitting so close to you, to wipe that sad look off your face, you could get a more clear reading of his scent. Smokey, yet bitter, musk, cedar wood, and lavender. That also must have been because of the shampoo. But they must have two separate shampoos that they picked individually. You had your own that Price had brought from your old home. It smelled of cherry blossoms.

Fast forward a few minutes, now Soap is teaching Ghost how you like your hair brushed with your favorite brush. And you’re crying and venting about how much you miss your owner and your old home.

This caused Soap to have a lightbulb moment.

A few days later, you’re napping in your cat bed when you suddenly start to wake up to a familiar scent. Rose petals, peonies, orchids, and lotuses. Flowers. You wondered if you had suddenly returned back to her old home. You open your eyes. Nope, you’re still at Price’s. But the scent is coming from a little candle, in an ivory candle holder (a favorite of your old owner), sitting on the dining room table. Price noticed you as he finished serving breakfast for you and the boys. He explained that he “found it at the shop and thought you would like it.” Actually, Soap had begged him to find a way to cheer you up because it hurt him so badly to see you cry like that! Ghost was standing by Soap, not moving a single bit. But Price could see in his eyes that he was silently agreeing. He didn’t want to admit it, but he cared for the little cat hybrid. So Price had gone out and looked for his mother’s favorite candle. He knew the one. Now, back to the present, you’re looking at the candle with wide eyes. You’re looking at Price, then the boys, then the candle, then Price again. You feel your eyes start to sting. Tears abruptly well up in your eyes. All of the men are now worried. Did they mess up? Did Price pick the wrong candle? But he was sure of it! Soap quickly got up and hugged you tightly, asking why you were crying. Ghost even got up and walked over to you, just as worried but he wouldn’t show it. You eventually explain to them through tears and hiccups, that you love all they’ve done to make this new place feel like your old home. It makes you so happy that they want to see you happy and comfortable. They’re all relieved, Price gently wiping away your tears with a handkerchief his mother gifted to him when he first went into the military, petting your fluffy ears and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

These men all love you, they would do anything to not see you in pain. And you love them just as much, knowing that they would do anything to protect you. :3

───♡───────────── End

Again, if you have any constructive criticism, please comment below!

Thank you for reading :)

#johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #hybrid!au #hybrid!reader #this is my first post so please be nice to me #I'm so nervous to see how people react to this #please enjoy #task force 141 #tf 141 #john price #price x reader

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astermath · 1 year

Text

“So? Whatever.”

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader

summary: The preppy girl that just about everyone admires has more in common with Dave than he expects. He doesn’t quite know how to handle this information, but it excites him nonetheless.

word count: 2K

♡ LANDING PAGE♡

notes: I haven’t written something like this in a good while, so please bear with me if I’m rusty or there are some mistakes here and there. Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, I tried to be as non descriptive as possible about her appearance. I do love writing a bit of a mean reader like this, but don’t worry, she’ll warm up to him. This fic takes place in senior year for age purposes, I’m pretty much fully ignoring the timeline of the film. Comments and/or requests are super welcome btw!! Hope you enjoy!! <3

(ps this will get a part two don’t worry xx)

To Dave, girls like you were unreachable. You could hear about them, you could listen to them talk in the hallways, sneak a glance their way… But talk to them? Any single one of their group would consider that social suicide. The only reason any of them even looked in his direction was to ask him to do their homework. So why in god’s name were you at his locker? Why were you acknowledging his existence at all?

“What’s that?” You leaned against the locker next to his, pointing at the piece of a comic book panel he’d taped to the door. It pictured Spider-man putting on his mask for the first time, something Dave looked to when he needed some motivation for the day.

He struggled to get basically any words out, still not fully registering that you’re within such close range. He could smell you… God that was really weird to think about, he felt like a creep already, but you just… Smelled really nice. Like vanilla, mixed with something sweet. He realized he hadn’t answered your question yet and was just staring in front of him like a weirdo. “O-Oh, yeah, that’s uh… That’s Spider-man. It’s this… This superhero I like.” He adjusted the strap of his backpack to keep his hands busy.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Duh, I know who Spider-man is, please.” You couldn’t help but think he was doing anything to avoid looking into your eyes, as if you’d turn him to stone if he dared to do so. Which, yes, was exactly how he felt.

“I wanted to know which comic that was from. The art style looks a lot different than the ones I’ve seen.” Now this part was pretty much making his teenage brain short circuit. He probably didn’t hear that right, there’s no way a popular girl like you read comics, right? This had to be some kind of elaborate joke, like you were trying to pull a prank on him by making him ramble about his favorite superheroes. However, he wasn’t close minded. Even if this was a prank, at least you were talking to him, right?

“Yeah, sorry, I uh… Forget he’s a pretty popular character sometimes. This one’s from a collector’s edition. One of the pages was kinda falling apart so I just… Taped my favorite panel to my locker.” Again, he tried to look anywhere else, but it felt rude not to be making eye contact with the person who’s trying to give you a chance at a conversation. His eyes met yours and he realised he hadn’t ever actually seen you up close like this. You were really pretty, he knew that, but he never noticed these particular things about you before. The way your hair framed your features so nicely, the little beauty mark that seemed to be somehow perfectly placed, or the way a dimple appeared on your right cheek when you smiled.

“Hopefully you didn’t pay too much for it, those things cost like, a fortune.” You followed, snapping him out of his haze as you twirled a piece of hair between your index and middle finger. Dave was much taller than you, so you had to look up to match his gaze, which was already hard since he kept avoiding your eyes. You never realized how much he’d matured since freshman year. He looked pretty cute… Really cute, actually.

“S-So, uhm, I really don‘t wanna be rude, but…” He closed his locker before looking at you with a rather awkward expression. “Why are you here? Why are you… talking to me?” Honestly, not an unjustified question. Dave was often the subject of bullying, and the popular girls clique made no exception to that rule. He doesn’t remember you specifically doing anything, although... He has a vague memory of you being in the car with those jocks when they threw spoiled milk at him.

“What? A girl can’t talk to her fellow classmate? This is a free country, you know.” You pretended to be a little hurt by his assumption that you were probably just here to make fun of him. In all honesty he was still a little dumbfounded by this whole ordeal, and the fact that half the people that passed you were giving you two weird looks really wasn’t helping. “You know I sit behind you in English, right?” He responds by nodding. He is painfully aware of this fact, as your friends had expressed their empathy for you when your seat was assigned behind him, though you honestly didn’t mind. And also the fact that he got a fair share of gossip from you and your best friend always whispering to each other. “Well,” you flipped a bit of hair over your shoulder. “I saw you had a copy of Birth of Venom in your backpack, and I... Wanted to ask if I could borrow it...” You looked to the side, muttering the last part. As much as you tried not to care what people thought, you did have a bit of a reputation that you were stuck to. Liking comics wasn’t for you, you were a cheerleader, you went to parties, you liked shopping. Okay, you secretly liked comics.

Dave looked at you with a puzzled expression. “I-I’m sorry, can you repeat tha--”

“Can I borrow your stupid comic or what?” You interrupted him, clearly looking a bit embarrassed.

“Oh!” His face was getting hot, this conversation was lasting way longer than he imagined it would. Usually he’d have his face shoved into his locker by now. “U-Uhm, sure! It’s a bit expensive, but... Well, just don’t damage it, please.” He took his backpack off his shoulder and was about to pull it out before you grabbed his arm.

“Not here you dumbass! Just, like... Ugh, meet me at my car after school’s over, you can hand it to me then.” You were acting like this was some kind of illegal drug deal, but this truly was something important to you. Your dad had already made it very clear that he didn’t want his little girl becoming some kind of tomboy and have her mind run rampant with superhero stories. Especially with this Kickass guy running around...

The bell rang and you silently thanked it for doing so. “Look, I gotta go. White Corvette, by the vending machines.” You walked past him, and a waft of that lovely vanilla scent hit his nose. He damn near melted into the floor when your arm brushed against his. “Later, Lizewksi.”

You leaned against the hood of your car, scrolling on your phone as you waited for the brunette to show up. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that you were just meeting him in secret like this. It’s not like you were embarrassed to be seen with him, or that you didn’t like him, it’s just that liking comics and superheroes was just about the dorkiest thing anyone could be into. Especially with Kickass running around, and, well, kicking ass, people would probably be thinking you’d be into this whole vigilante business yourself. Sure, you thought it was cool that people were doing something about all the crime, but you’d rather die than mess up your hair beating some thug’s ass.

You noticed someone approaching and noticed that Dave wasn’t alone. With a bit of a disgusted expression, you gestured to his two sidekicks. “I don’t remember inviting the entire geek entourage to come see me. This isn’t some kinda meet and greet, you know.” Todd and Marty seemed, just like Dave before, a little shocked that you were talking to them.

“S-Sorry, they just uh...” Dave began.

“We didn’t believe him.” Todd followed.

“...believe what?” You questioned, crossing your arms.

“That a chick like you was into comics.” Marty said, before Todd smacked him on the back of the head. “Dude! Don’t say it like that!”

You got a bit flustered, and looked at Dave. “You told them!? What the fuck, Lizewski?”

“I-I’m sorry!” He held up his hands. “They were asking me what we were talking about, and... I panicked.” They were more so insinuating that he was flirting with her, and he didn’t want that rumor going around, in case your jock brother caught wind of that and beat his ass for flirting with his sister.

You sighed, looking down and pinching the bridge of your nose before waving your hand out in a dismissive manner. “It’s... whatever, just leave. Before I change my mind and throw a bitch fit.” His two friends gave him a suggestive look before heading out. “Those two better not snitch or I’ll cut off their shrimps.” He nodded, just a little intimidated by the threat.

He got out his backpack and handed you the comic. “I’m still surprised I uh... I never knew you were into this stuff.” His breath hitched in his throat when your finger brushed over his as you took it from him. You flipped through it, keeping your eyes on the pages.

“Yeah, well... There’s a lot you don’t know about me, as much as I’m sure you guys love to assume.” You realized you hadn’t even told him your name, so you looked up at him and held out your hand, introducing yourself. You know, out of courtesy.

“I-I know your name, but uhm... I’m Dave.” Your hand felt so soft, your beautifully manicured fingers being a real juxtaposition to his. His hand was much bigger and rougher than yours. You wondered why his hand was so calloused anyways... He didn’t look like he did many sports.

“Wait... Your name isn’t Lizewski?” You chuckled. “Christ, my bad... I always thought that was just your first name.” Your feeling of guilt for the boy before you flared up a bit again. He was being really nice to you, offering you something personal of his that he probably spent a pretty penny on. And you didn’t even know his actual name before. No wonder some people thought you were a bit of a bitch, you thought to yourself.

“Hey, uhm... I know you got a bunch of these, and my dad would kill me if he knew I was reading them. He hates vigilantes, and he thinks reading comics will get me into the whole thing. Stupid, I know, but... He takes it surprisingly seriously.” You put the comic away carefully. “So I have a proposition for you.”

His eyebrows rose a little. A proposition, alright. No big deal. Could be literally anything though.

“Come to my house this Saturday, bring a bunch of these, and I’ll tell my dad you’re coming to tutor me for physics or something.” You tilted your head a little, your locks falling gently over your shoulders. “I’ll pay you. Money’s not a problem. It’ll be like I’m renting them from you.”

He thought for a second, but in all honesty... How was this not a total win/win situation? He got to be in a pretty girl’s room, read comics with her, talk about them and make money. What kind of idiot would say no to that? “Yeah! Sounds good to me, uh... What do you want me to...” His words trailed off as you pulled out a pen and reached for his hand, writing a string of numbers on the back of it.

“I’ll text you the address, and which series I like. I’ll let you do the picking. Oh, and Dave?”

“Y-Yeah?” He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. This is the closest you’ve ever stood to him.

Your grip on his hand tightens, and you look up at him with a death stare. “Not a word to anyone about this.” You followed with a cutesy smile. “Alrighty?” You let go of his hand and put your stuff away before pulling out your car keys.

Dave stands frozen in place, a faint blush already spread across his cheeks. He swore you were going to be the death of him. He looked down for a second and realized that what you wrote down wasn’t just some random numbers. It was your phone number. It all just suddenly felt very real to him, he’d never gotten a girl’s number before. And you were just about the last person he’d expect it from too.

You got in your car and turned on your engine. “See ya on Saturday, Lizewski! Don’t be late or I’ll kill you!” You smile, before driving off at a totally normal and acceptable speed.

He gave a nervous wave before he looked back down at his hand. There was a little heart scribbled behind the phone number. It probably meant nothing.

But boy did it make his heart flutter.

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moonsgemini · 10 months

Text

good for you - rafe cameron

summary: Rafe just wanted to be good. He wanted to be good for her, but somehow he always found a way to mess things up. And of course she’s there to help him clean up the mess.

warnings: angst, fluff, rafe gets arrested, insecurities from rafe

wc: 1.9k

an: hope you all enjoy!! I kinda lost inspo towards the end but regardless I still kinda like it. um also I’m 5 days sober so love that for me, I’m taking a tolerance break to clear my mind & it's helped so much so far.

masterlist

She was laying on her bed reading Pride & Prejudice, trying to stay away from her phone. She was trying to build better habits like not going on her phone before she went to sleep. It was a cool summer night, her balcony doors open letting the smell of the beach enter her room. Her eyes were starting to involuntarily shut as sleep started to overtake her, but she was jolted awake as her phone started vibrating on her night stand.

It was almost 12am who would be calling her at this hour. She peeked over and the name on the screen made a pit in her stomach form. Kildare Sheriff’s Department. She didn’t have a single clue as to why she was getting a call from the police at this hour. Her stomach turned as her mind raced jumping to conclusions like someone she knew being in an accident.

Hesitantly picking up she muttered, “Hello?”

“Hey uh it’s me.”

Her mouth went dry, “Rafe? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Y/n had only moved to outer banks a few months ago. She had met Sarah one day when she was shopping at a boutique in the figure eight. Being the bubbly outgoing person that Sarah was she invited her to a party going on that night. Usually y/n wouldn’t go to a random party alone but it was summer and how else was she going to make friends. She had promised herself that in the Outer Banks she was going to be different. She wasn’t going to bury herself in her books and be secluded missing out on all the things a teenager should be doing like she had been in her old hometown.

When she arrived at the party she was received with weird looks and she had immediately regretted her decision. She wandered around hoping someone would come up and talk to her or she’d bump into Sarah. Luckily she did bump into her, the girl immediately took her under her wing and introduced her to some people. Y/n even had a few drinks as she talked with the girls she met. She was actually enjoying herself. After a while she went off to find the bathroom, that’s when she bumped into a 6’2 dirty blonde.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” She mumbled stumbling back a bit, her balance a little off after a few seltzers.

Rafe looked down at the girl not recognizing her as a regular at these parties, “No worries.” He smirked, he definitely would have remembered her.

She looked around not really knowing where she was going, “um do you know where the bathroom is?”

Rafe thought she was extremely cute. She was like a lost puppy and he would do anything to help her find her way, “It’s the last door on the right, have we met before?” He asked knowing they definitely haven’t.

“Probably not, I just moved here a couple weeks ago. I’m y/n.” She smiled as she felt her face heating up. She thought he was extremely handsome, he had a slightly cocky demeanor but she couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t into it. The way he looked at her like she was his prey made her feel something warm in her stomach. In her old town no boy had bothered to give her the time of day so having the attention of someone as handsome as him was overwhelming.

Rafe’s smirk grew, “That makes sense I think I’d remember if we met, I’m Rafe.”

He knew he was a goner when she looked up at him with those big eyes and that smile. Everything about her was captivating to him. He liked looking at her smooth exposed legs in the small skirt she was wearing and her collarbones that were begging to be kissed by him. He also liked the fact that she didn’t know who he was. She had no idea he was a bad person the way everyone said he was.

Ever since that night Rafe and y/n had been practically inseparable. They spent their days together whether it was at the beach while she read her books on the sand in that small bikini while Rafe surfed. Or they’d go to parties together, Rafe’s arm around her the whole night. Not letting her out of his sight and making sure everyone knew she was Rafe’s girl even though they weren’t dating. Rafe hadn’t asked her out yet, he wanted to be better before he made anything official.

Rafe had become better. He wasn’t doing coke anymore and he stopped drinking so much, limiting himself so only a few drinks. He even started doing everything his dad asked him to instead of doing whatever was in his best interest. But Rafe was nowhere near perfect. It’s why he was calling her from the sheriff’s department at midnight. He felt like he had just fucked up all the effort he had made to be better with one stupid night.

He had gone out to a bar with a few friends and he had maybe had a bit too much to drink. Maybe he had a lot to drink and he might of started a fight with some guys. Which resulted in him being taken to the police station to sit in the drunk tank or be picked up by someone. He had one phone call and he couldn’t call his dad, he’d just yell at him and let him stay there over night. His friends weren’t the most reliable people and Sarah wasn’t exactly going to jump at the opportunity to help him. He only knew one person who would help him, but he felt embarrassed by his actions. This isn’t the Rafe he wanted her to know, but he was desperate.

“I’m o-okay. Can you come pick me up?” He hiccuped, “I fucked up y/n. Please can you come.”

She was already steps ahead of him. She had began putting on an oversized sweatshirt and her sneakers. Rafe meant a lot to her, he was one of the only people that actually listened to her. He saw her in ways that no one ever tried to. She would do anything for him. She had heard a few rumors about him but she didn’t pay any attention to them because it seemed like that Rafe was gone. Her Rafe was gentle, kind, smart, and protective.

“Of course Rafe. I’ll be there soon okay?” She said hoping to calm him, she could hear him sniffle lightly.

“I’m so sorry y/n,” He said in an almost whimper.

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her, “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. I’ll be there soon okay?”

“Okay. Thankyou y/n.”

“Anything for you Rafey.” She smiled just thinking about him. His heart clenched at the nick name, how could she be so perfect. How could she not be angry with him for being so stupid.

When she arrived at the police station she went up to the front desk and nervously looked around. Waiting for someone to come up and help her.

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Shoupe asked as he appeared from around the corner.

“Hi um I’m here to pick up Rafe Cameron,” She said almost uncertain.

He nodded his head, “I’ll go get him, if you can just fill out these papers for me.”

“Mhmm thankyou,” she smiled sweetly.

Shoupe walked back around the corner and down the hall to the holding cell. Rafe sat there his head in his hands.

“Cameron, let’s god.” He started unlocking the door to let the young man out.

Rafe stood up quickly, because she actually came. A part of him worried that you wouldn’t show up. She’d see what a mess he was calling her at midnight and just leave him there. He couldn’t wait to see his girl. Shoupe walked him out to the front and there she stood in his sweatshirt and some sleep shorts. He felt a pang of guilt go through him knowing he disturbed her.

“Rafe,” She said letting out a relieved sigh. He had a cut lip and bruised cheek. His knuckles were cut up and bruised.

He practically ran towards her to hug her. He burried his head in the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of vanilla and shea butter. All of his worries disappeared as he held her.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled wishing he could just stay this way forever.

“It’s okay, let’s go home.” She pulled away from him holding his face in her hands to examine him better. Her eyes watered slightly as she took in his hurt perfect face.

They walked to her car in silence, she had a million questions but she waited to ask. Once in her car she looked over at him. He looked so broken, so upset at himself.

“What happened Rafe?” She asked.

He looked over at him with watery eyes, “I-I don’t know. One minute I’m having a drink and then another. Then another and another. Then this guy shoulder checked me on his way to the restroom and I-I just lost it. I don’t know why.” He shook his head thinking about how stupid his reason for starting the fight was.

“Rafe, people make mistakes.”

“I’ve made so many mistakes. I just want to be good. I want to be good enough for you, but I’m so stupid, I’m a loser and an idiot. I-I don’t deserve you.”

She leaned across the console and held his face in her hands rubbing her thumbs gently across his cheek bones, “Don’t say that. Rafe I would come get you from here every day if you needed me to. You can’t be so hard on yourself, it matters to me that you’re trying to be good. You are good. I’ve never once thought that you weren’t.” She cared for him more than he would ever know.

He couldn’t find any words to say because none existed that would describe how much love he had for her. No one believed in him the way that she did. He reached over mimicking her and placing his hands on her cheeks pulling her into him. His lips meeting hers, his lip hurt as he kissed her. Her hands dropped from his face and moved to his shirt, desperate hands gripping at it trying to pull him closer.

Rafe hummed in satisfaction at the feeling of her mouth on his, something he had been dreaming about for months now. The way their lips moved against each other seemed like they had been doing this forever. She let out a small whimper and it made his head spin. His hand ran down her face to hold the side of her neck, finger entangling in her hair. His other hand moved to her waist. He really wished they were in his bed right now so he could really show her how much she means to him. But he wanted to take things slow with her.

They pulled away, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. She felt so dizzy, all her senses were overloaded on Rafe Cameron.

“Did you know that you’re perfect?” He said quietly.

She laughed softly, “You’re perfect. Come stay with me tonight.

“Anything you want,” He pecked her lips. For the first time in his whole life he didn’t feel less than.

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rollingsins · 7 months

Text

all hers, epilogue

summary: Tara and YN try their hand at some healthier habits.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of violence. Smut.

word count: 5.3k

a/n: it's been a wild ride. thanks for all who have come along. all hers is over, but I will still be writing gf!tara drabbles in the same universe - maybe some college oneshots in the drabble files. Until then: enjoy the final chapter! :))

As the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months, slowly, the pain subsides.

Your normal? It’s potentially forever gone. It shouldn’t be a surprise, at this point.

Once you’d just been a teenage girl, crazily in love with another girl.

Who turned out to be a serial killer. Who’d somehow turned you into a killer.

Who’d made you cry, and laugh and love harder than you’d ever loved in your entire life.

In the grand scheme of things - the scar on your belly is probably the least of your worries.

But that doesn’t stop you toiling on it.

It always seems to be the way, doesn’t it? Worrying about the things that don’t really matter.

You worry nonetheless.

“It’s pretty,” Tara murmurs in comfort when you’re staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, shirt lifted slightly, eyebrows pinched in dismay.

It’s not pretty.

It’s wiry and long and stems from the tip of your bellybutton down to your navel.

“It’s hideous.” You say, voice a little fraught.

It’s hideous and permanent.

You’ll never be able to wear a bikini again. You’ll never be able to take your shirt off again without being reminded of it.

Of her.

The woman who had tormented you for weeks.

The woman who you’d tormented for weeks. The woman whose son you’d taken from her. The woman who’d repaid you in mental scars to last a lifetime.

A belly scar to last a lifetime.

“It’s beautiful,” Tara says, pressing her lips to your shoulder, “It means you’re alive.”

She squeezes your hips, then lifts her own shirt.

“And it matches mine,” She says, eyes shimmering, “Matching knife wounds. Like soulmates.”

You snort.

Because of course Tara tries to make stab wounds romantic.

But to her credit - it works.

Your heart sings.

Soulmates.

Because that’s what you are.

“Who needs a wedding ring, right?” You say, biting your lip, insecurities suddenly fading.

Tara entwines your hands, lifts the back of your hand to her lips.

“You do,” Tara says, “And you’ll have one. Soon. I promise.”

You pull back.

“Not before-“

“College,” Tara says, rolling her eyes, “I know, babe.”

You press a lingering kiss to her cheek.

“I just don’t want to be one of those couples who rush into marriage and fall apart the moment they turn twenty-one.”

“That won’t be us,” Tara whines, and then she pouts, “Plenty of high school sweethearts get married right after high school.”

You groan.

“Tara, we talked about this already-“

“I know,” Tara says, voice hasty, “I’m just excited. I want you to be Mrs. Carpenter already.”

“Mrs Carpenter, huh?” You say, ignoring the fluttery rush that blooms through you at the thought, “And what if I want you to take my name?”

Tara cocks a brow and considers this.

“I don’t care, babe, I’ll change my name to garden gnome if you want, as long as I get to be your wife.” She says after a moment.

You smile. Squeeze her hand.

“You’d suit it,” You tease, “But Mrs and Mrs Carpenter has a nice ring to it.”

Tara tilts her head hopefully.

“So, maybe a high school wedding?” She asks, voice sly, “Mrs Carpenter would look good on your college application forms.”

You press a warm kiss to her lips.

“There’s no rush, babe,” You tell her, “And I need to save up. Get you a pretty ring.”

Tara squints.

“I’m proposing first,” She says immediately, “You promised, babe.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yes, you baby, I know.”

Tara tilts her head, seemingly satisfied.

You press a kiss to her lips. She’s cured your insecurity, for now.

But a new feeling gnaws at the bottom of your stomach.

Dread.

As you realize what comes next. You try to keep your voice light. Lighter than the heavy pit at the bottom of your stomach.

“Come on,” You say, trying and failing not to sound anxious, “It’s time for therapy.”

Dr Colmann is a five foot woman with long, flowing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

Her office is bland. Gray walls. Little decoration.

Like she wants your attention on her.

You’d met her first, a few weeks ago. Like a pterodactyl scouting out a potential nest for her baby.

Your situation is tricky - there’s only so much you can tell her.

And you’re no doctor - but even you know surely it’s impossible to diagnose an illness without knowing all the symptoms.

“I want to get something out of the way,” You’d said after a long moment, clearing your throat.

Dr Colmann had looked over at you, pen tilted and ready to write. With all the intimidation of a woman who was about to change your life.

“I’m aware my girlfriend is…” You had paused, trying to think of the right word, “A little… possessive.”

Dr Colmann said nothing.

“I know that, and that’s why we’re looking for help.” You’d bitten your lip, nervous, “And I’m also sure the first thing you’re going to tell me is to leave her. But that isn’t going to happen. I love her. And she loves me. We’re looking for coping methods. I want to help her feel secure. But I will not break up with her.”

Dr Colmann had just listened.

Her silence, if possible, made you all the more nervous.

“She’s not abusive or anything,” You’d clarified, hastily, “She doesn’t hurt me. She just gets… jealous.”

“And what does she do when she gets jealous?” She’d asked, finally breaking her silence.

“Um-“ You’d said, voice a little high. Memories flashed before you like nightmares and you’d been entirely grateful your thoughts couldn’t be seen.

“She lashes out. Not at me. At other people.”

Dr Colmann scribbled something in her notepad. Long, wiry, black inky marks.

You’d squinted, trying to make up the words, but she’d looked back at you before you’d had the chance.

“Do you have any examples?” Dr Colmann prompted.

You paused.

You had a fair few of those.

None of which you could disclose.

“Little things,” You said, “I used to play soccer. But I had to quit because Tara thought some of the girls might become interested in me.”

You chew your lip.

“And… I was just in the hospital. She got jealous of the nurse.”

“The nurse?”

“She tried to… give me a sponge bath and Tara freaked out.”

Dr Colman stared.

You swallowed. The words out loud somehow seemed even more ridiculous than they are.

“How did she freak out?” Dr Colmann asked.

“She tried to…” You swallowed again, “She didn’t want the nurse to touch me again. Not even to change my bandages.”

Dr Colmann pursed her lips.

“I told her that was stupid,” You’d said, hurriedly, “But when she gets like that, nothing can stop her. She calls it The Rage.”

Dr Colmann tilted her head.

“The Rage?”

You’d nodded.

“Yeah. It’s like… it’s like something takes over her. Like a demon or something. Something she can’t control.”

Dr Colmann had closed her notebook. She’d looked over at you, surveying. You’d blinked back, eyes wide, surely screaming help me, or something to that effect.

Then, she smiled.

“When can I meet her?”

You’re no less nervous the second time.

You greet Dr Colmann with a tight smile, draw Tara down into the seat next to you. Your knee bobs up and down, unable to quell the tide of anxiety rising deep within you.

Please, you think, a little desperate, please help her.

As Tara and Dr Colmann exchange pleasantries, you blink. Too many times.

Like you don’t know how this is going to go. The worst case scenario flashes before you: Dr Colmann in a body bag.

Tara in a jail cell.

You in a jail cell.

Never able to touch her, or hold her, or kiss her ever again.

You need therapy, the little voice in your head leers, judgmental, not being with Tara is worse than a woman dying?

“So, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, when you’re all seated. With all the cheeriness of someone who isn’t aware you’re imagining her as a corpse.

“Tell me about The Rage.”

An awkward silence settles over the three of you.

Tara shoots a hesitant look towards you.

You squeeze her hand and nod.

Then, she looks over to Dr Colmann.

“It’s an anger thing,” Tara mumbles, not looking her in the eye, “I’ve seen shrinks before, none of them can fix it.”

Dr Colmann tilts her head.

“And what did these other doctors do?” She asks, “Anger management classes? Medication?”

“Both,” Tara says, “Nothing ever worked.”

Dr Colmann hums.

“I’ve read through your file, Tara,” She says gently, “Fourteen different therapists across the state. That’s a lot of doctors. Especially for such a young girl.”

Tara assesses her. Her face is tight, guarded. Like she’s not sure if she can quite trust her.

Dr Colmann scribbles something in her notepad.

“Lots of kids have problems with anger,” Says Dr Colmann, “But anger is just a symptom, like any other emotion. From what YN has told me, anger isn’t the problem. Sharing is the problem.”

Tara frowns.

“Plenty of children have issues with sharing,” Dr Colmann continues, “Usually, it’s the parents who stamp it out. But not always. I see in your file your sister used to bear the brunt of most of these anger issues.”

Tara folds her arms.

“Not always,” She says.

“But most of the time,” Says Dr Colmann, pointedly. She squints, reading through her notes, “It says here you attacked your sister when you were four years old because she tried to play with one of your Barbie dolls. Then again, later that week for taking a bigger slice of pie.”

“Four year olds are allowed to have boundaries, aren’t they?” Says Tara, defensively, “That Barbie was mine.”

“And YN? She’s yours too?” Asks Dr Colmann, evenly.

Tara blinks.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tara says, diplomatically. The question is a trap, one she’s determined to avoid.

Dr Colmann tilts her head.

“And you don’t like when other people play with her? Is that right?”

Anger flickers through Tara’s features. You bite your lip, and squeeze her hand. Try to keep her grounded.

“I suppose not.” Says Tara, voice tight.

“YN told me about the nurse,” Dr Colmann says, “And the soccer team. You made her quit? Why?”

Tara looks over to you, a little helpless.

“I didn’t make her quit,” She says, slowly, like she’s being very careful with her words, “I just… suggested it. Strongly.”

Dr Colmann makes a noise of dissatisfaction.

Then returns to madly scribbling on her notepad.

Tara frowns again, looking self-conscious.

Dr Colmann looks up.

“And what if someone on the soccer team had been interested?” Dr Colmann asks, “What would you have done?”

You avert your gaze.

Kill them, is the answer.

It’s already happened.

More than once.

Tara shifts.

“I wouldn’t like it.” Tara says.

“No reasonable person would like that, Tara,” Dr Colmann prods, gently, “But what would you do?”

“I don’t know,” Says Tara, sounding aggravated, “Not let her see them anymore.”

“And do you think that’s an appropriate request?” Dr Colmann asks, “Do you really think you should have control over who your girlfriend associates with?”

Tara narrows her eyes.

“YN would do it for me,” She says, “We’re in a relationship. Relationships are about compromise.”

“That isn’t compromise, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, gently, “That’s you demanding she do something and her complying. Do you not trust her?”

Tara blinks.

She looks over to you, then back to Dr Colmann.

“Of course I do,” She says, voice soft, “It’s other people I don’t trust.”

“And what do you think these other people are going to do?” Dr Colmann asks.

“I don’t know.” Tara says, voice small, as if she’s never really thought that far ahead.

She looks like a little lost puppy. You want to wrap her in your arms and tell her you’ll never talk to anybody else again if that’s what she wants.

You resist.

Healthy wife, happy life, is what you tell yourself instead.

Dr Colmann’s face washes with sympathy.

“Jealousy is pointless, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, voice gentle, “Worrying is pointless. If YN is going to cheat on you, she’ll cheat on you. If she’s going to leave you, she’ll leave you. There’s nothing you - or The Rage can do about it.”

Tara blinks.

“I-“ She says, as if Dr Colmann has just spit in her face “What?”

Dr Colmann sits forward in her seat. Her notebook discarded.

“What you need to do - is trust. Your girlfriend loves you. Clearly. She wouldn’t be here with you if she didn’t.”

Tara frowns.

“You’re afraid of losing her,” Dr Colman says, eyebrows knit, as if Tara is a particularly difficult puzzle she can’t quite get her head around, “But why? We’ve already established she loves you. She wouldn’t be here with you if she didn’t.”

Tara blinks. You soothe a finger across the back of her hand. Resist the urge to press a kiss to her pretty forehead.

You let the doctor do the work.

“Have other people you loved left you, Tara?” Dr Colmann prods, gently.

Tara’s shoulders tense.

Dr Colmann waits a moment.

“Who?” She asks, "Your Mom? Your Dad?”

“Both.” Tara says, voice small, “They both left me.”

Your heart aches.

If you could - you’d sucker punch the two of them right now.

It isn’t an option. Instead - you grip her hand tight, offer her a small smile of encouragement as she speaks.

Tara swallows.

“My Dad tried to fix me,” Tara says, “For years. I was an angry kid. They could never figure out what was wrong with me. Eventually he just… gave up. He walked out on me and My Mom and my sister. Left us, just like that.”

“That must have been very traumatic,” Says Dr Colmann, “How old were you?”

“Thirteen.” Says Tara, “My Mom never left. I mean, she did. She threw herself into work to cope with my Dad leaving. She started going on these long business trips. But she never officially left.”

Dr Colmann offers her a small smile, “And that’s why you get so jealous, is it Tara? You’re afraid YN will leave you? Like your Mom? Like your Dad?”

Tara hesitates.

She looks down at her hands.

“Yes.” She says, after a long moment.

“Baby,” You say, voice hushed. Tara squeezes your fingers.

Dr Colmann hums.

“That makes a lot of sense, Tara,” She says, her voice kind, “That gives us something to work with.”

She closes her notepad, offers the two of you a reassuring smile.

“Your anger - we can work through that. We can figure out some coping methods. But the main problem here isn’t anger, Tara. It’s trust. I know you said you trust YN but you’re still scared. Deep down you’re scared she’ll abandon you, just like your parents did. We need to work through that.”

“Is it something we can fix?” You ask, a tad desperate.

You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d promised Tara you’d never leave her.

And each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears the moment The Rage was invoked.

“We can try,” Dr Colmann says, “I can try. And it’ll take some hard work. But Tara, it’ll only work if you’re open to it. If you’re open to changing. Is that something you can do?”

Tara thinks for a moment.

And then she nods.

“Yeah,” She says, “I want to do it. I want to be different. For you, babe,”

She squeezes your hand. Thinks hard.

“And for me too."

You’re silent the entire way home.

Tara too.

She grips your hand so hard you think it might fall off at one point. It’s only when she pulls into the driveway, she speaks.

“I didn’t scare you off, did I?” She asks, chewing her lip as she looks over at you, “With all my… problems.”

“Never, baby,” You say immediately.

You lean over to kiss her cheek. She relaxes.

“I’m going to need a lot of therapy, aren’t I?” She says, sounding worried.

You press another warm kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll be with you the whole way,” You assure, “I'm not going anywhere, Tara.”

You hesitate.

“You know I’m not like your Dad, right?” You say, “Or your Mom. I’m not going to leave you.”

Tara offers you a small smile.

“I know, babe,” She says, “At least in theory, I know.”

You press a kiss to her lips.

“I guess I’ll just have to remind you then,” you say, “Everyday. I love you. You’re stuck with me. I’ll say it until you believe me in theory and in practice.”

Tara rests her forehead against yours.

“Okay,” She says, “And keep saying it after that, okay babe?”

You kiss her.

“Deal.”

Your Mom’s still in the hospital.

Her leg had been amputated after the attack, and the procedure hadn’t been easy on her or your Dad. She’d come home after two weeks and then been admitted once more when the wound became infected.

“Are you feeling okay?” You ask her now, chewing your lip, phone pressed to your ear.

Tara finishes up the dishes, setting down the washcloth to nestle in beside you, squeezing your hip comfortingly.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” She says, “Will you come and visit tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there,” You promise, “Sam is going to pick us up after school.”

“And everything’s alright at the house?” Enquires your Mom.

You were staying at Tara’s place until your parents came back home, a decision that was quickly agreed on, for once.

“Everything’s fine, Mom,” You assure, “Sam’s working now, but she’ll be home in a couple of hours.”

Your Mom hums.

“And Tara’s there with you, isn’t she?” She asks, sounding a little worried, “You’re not alone?”

“Tara’s here,” You say and Tara kisses the back of your neck, “You don’t have to worry, Mom.”

“Is that Tara?” Asks your Dad through the phone, a little gruff, “Can I speak with her?’

“Dad wants to speak to Tara, YN, bye for now,” Says your Mom, “See you tomorrow.”

You barely get out the goodbye before you hear your Dad’s voice once more.

“Tara?” He asks.

“It’s me Dad,” You say, and he makes a noise of vague disappointment.

You roll your eyes.

“We’re fine, thanks for asking.” You say.

“Yes, yes, I heard you speak with Mom,” He assures, “Put Tara on the phone.”

You hand off the phone to your girlfriend and pry yourself out of her grip, busying yourself with playing the leftovers into their containers.

“Hello, Sir,” Says Tara, the way you might speak to the President.

She bobs her head, eyebrows knitting.

“Yes, I did see the 49ers play.”

You huff.

Tara averts her gaze.

“Yes, I did think they played like a bunch of seven year old girls.”

You roll your eyes once more.

Tara’s newfound friendship with your Dad is better than the alternative, at least. You’d lived the alternative.

It hadn’t been much fun.

“We’re okay,” Tara promises, suddenly, “I have every door locked down, alarms set and cameras operating.”

Your Dad murmurs something down the line you can’t hear.

Tara smiles, and then reaches for your hand.

“I’m not letting her out of my sight, Sir, you don’t have to worry,” She says, “I won’t let anyone hurt her. I promise.”

She hangs up not long after.

You should be used to it by now, the flutter in the pit of your stomach every time she gets protective, or calls you hers, but you’re not.

Butterflies cascade through your belly, branching out to the tips of your fingertips where they settle. You curl in around Tara and press your lips to her neck.

She smells good. No perfume, just the tinge of her skin and her coconut body wash.

You squeeze her hips and nip your teeth against the nape of her neck.

“Oh.” Tara sighs as you slip your fingers into the waistband of your jeans. She leans back into your touch, titling your head to capture your lips.

“Really?” She asks, a little excited.

You laugh.

You’d not had sex in a few weeks, hardly in the mood. Your wound aches most days, and the rest are spent really remarkably unsexy, despite Tara’s constant reassurance you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.

She turns in your arms, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Sam won’t be home for hours,” You murmur against her lips, “Just you and me. The way it should be.”

“Your stomach doesn’t hurt?” She asks, a little soft. Her eyes swim with concern, “We can just watch a movie, if you want?”

You shake your head.

She looks good. Her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. No makeup, her spill of freckles poignant, her pretty lips pouty and red and kissable.

“I want you, baby,” You murmur, nuzzling your nose to the side of her face, “Do you want me too?”

You don’t have to wait long for a response.

She presses a searing kiss to your lips.

“Do you even have to ask?” She says, biting her lip.

“No,” You smile, “But I want to hear you say it anyway.”

“I want you,” She says, immediately. She’s excited again, you can tell by the way her eyes flicker, “I want you all the time.”

“Come take me then,” You murmur against her mouth.

She doesn’t have to be told twice.

She leads you up the staircase, walking backwards. Her mouth fused to yours, her careful hands roaming every span of skin she can get her hands on.

She helps you onto the bed, far gentler than her usual gig of wild hands and wild lips. Instead, this time she touches you as if you might shatter into a thousand pieces.

You make an annoyed murmur as she pulls your jeans down your legs. It feels like an age, the way she softly untangles the button and the zipper. Her touch is light, so un-Tara.

When she finally pulls your legs from your jeans, you almost cry out of frustration.

“Babe, I’m not going to break.” You tell her, but it falls on deaf ears.

She’s pressing her lips to your thigh, tiny, gentle touches as she pulls your underwear down your legs at a pain-stakingly slow pace.

“Don’t rush me, babe,” She says as you reach down to help her, “And lie back. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I feel fine,” You say, tilting up to meet her kiss, “Please hurt me.”

Tara huffs, drawing back slightly.

“It’s not fair to say things like that when you know I can’t.” She pouts, “The things I want to do to you will almost certainly rip your stitches.”

Arousal coils deep in your belly.

Then annoyance.

“Now who's not being fair?” It’s your turn to pout.

Tara nudges her lips to your neck.

“I’m going to make love to you, baby-girl,” She promises, her eyes dark, “That’s more than fair.”

You tilt your head up and press a lingering kiss to her lips.

“Besides. If I rip your stitches I think your Dad will have something to say.”

You wrinkle your nose.

“Let’s not talk about my Dad when we’re getting naked, babe,” You suggest.

She hums in agreement.

And then you reach for her shirt.

“Off.”

If she’s going to spend the entire evening getting your underwear down your legs, the least she can do is give you something to look at, you reason.

Your touch is impatient.

You pry off her jeans like there’s a time limit. Strip her of her shirt and her bra until she’s hovering naked above you, making your mouth water.

And suddenly, what little patience you had left is gone.

You rise up, starling her.

“Babe-“ She protests, but you can’t be reasoned with.

You tilt her around, until she’s lying back on the mattress, nudging her bare legs apart with your thighs.

“Too slow, my turn.” You murmur.

Your lips are hungry.

You kiss her, fierce, groaning slightly as your hands get to work. They work down the curve of her hips, to her thighs. You squeeze her, a little rough, and then move your hands to take her nipples between your fingers.

She gasps, her hips involuntarily jerking up towards yours. You detangle yourself from her lips, leaning down to press hot kisses against her neck.

She threads her fingers through your hair, tugging, tugging, as she moves against you. She’s still holding back, being careful not to touch your stomach.

You can tell by the way she’s groaning it’s hard for her.

And so you make it easy.

Your lips move down from her neck to her breasts. You circle each nipple once, then twice, before you’re taking her in your mouth, curling your arms around each of her thighs.

“Baby,” Tara murmurs, “Baby, your stomach-“

You release her nipple with a wet pop and a frown.

“I’m fine, babe.” You say, and it’s true.

It aches, slightly, but it always does nowadays. No matter what you’re doing.

And if it’s her you’re doing, at least the ache is dampened by the forest fire of arousal surging through your veins.

You return to your pilgrimage down her body.

Your lips graze her belly-button, your tongue slips down over the jut of her hips to the crest of her thighs.

She sighs, seemingly satisfied as you slip down further. Moving your body to settle nicely in between her legs.

Then, she tilts her head up, biting her lip.

Her eyes are hesitant, though encompassed with want.

“Tell me if it hurts,” She says, “Tell me and we can stop. Or…re-adjust.”

You nod, impatient.

“Alright babe, I will,” You say, raising an eyebrow, “Can I go down on you now?”

Her cheeks flush red with arousal.

“Please.” She whispers.

She’s beautiful, as ever.

You press your lips against the soft skin of her inner thighs, grazing your lips just gently. You use your tongue to work your way inwards.

Your breath catches in your throat the moment you taste her. Wet, syrupy, bittersweet goodness.

You lick it up, greedy for more. You press your lips to her folds, use your hands to spread her open for you. You lose control of your tongue.

One minute you’re ready to tease, the next, you’ve worked yourself up too much.

Your tongue moves hot across her folds and then down to her entrance. Your top lip brushes her clit and she sings.

A low moan that vibrates through the room.

A moan that indicates it’s been far too long since you’ve touched her like this.

You apologize with your mouth.

Low strokes of your tongue at her entrance. The quiet murmur of your own moan as your tongue moves up to circle her clit.

Lazy, slow, movements.

Then fast.

Like you’re changing your own mind too quickly.

You settle for writing words with your tongue.

babygirl, is what you spell out against her clit.

Your name. Her name. You connect them with a heart.

And then: mine.

Tara lets out a quiet moan as you take her clit between your lips. Sucking gently until her thighs are gripping like iron bars around the side of your head and her nails against your scalp bruise.

You give up on using the alphabet.

You slip two fingers inside her, sighing as she encases you. She’s tight and wet and begging for more.

You give it to her.

Curl your fingers up in just the right way. Lap your tongue over her clit just the way she likes.

And then she’s gasping as she tightens around you. She cries your name in a breathy moan as she cums hard around your fingers and mouth.

It’s always over too quickly, you think briefly as you reluctantly slip out of her. You need to learn patience. You need to learn how to tease.

But there’s something about her, and you don’t know how she does it. You just have to give her what she wants.

She lets out a happy sigh as you climb up her body and press your lips to her forehead.

She’s still a moment, but you know better. She recovers quickly.

In less than a minute she’s shifting.

You groan as your back hits the mattress.

Her hands slip down to your thighs, gripping you like she has an agenda. And she does. You know it by heart.

First, the gentle touch of her lips against your neck.

Then she’s sliding your underwear down your legs.

She kisses your lips, slips her tongue into your mouth for only a moment. And then she’s trailing kisses down your body.

Your chest. Your breasts.

She pays special attention to your nipples. Her eyes locking with yours as she sucks, ever so gently.

Your body feels hot.

You grip her face, holding her in place.

And then she’s nudging out of your grip, dipping down to press her lips to your navel.

She doesn’t kiss your scar, but you can tell she wants to.

She looks up at you, eyes wide and vulnerable as she squeezes your hips.

“You’re beautiful.” She murmurs. She ducks down and presses a kiss to the top of your inner thigh, “You’re perfect. My perfect girl.”

“Tara,” You say, voice a little gravelly, “Baby, please.”

She doesn’t make you wait.

One moment she’s pressing her lips to your thigh. The next, she’s dipping down between your legs. You lean back onto the pillows with a sigh.

Her lips graze.

She kisses your inner thigh.

Drags her tongue over your entrance and you gasp.

Then, her lips are on your clit.

You moan as she snakes a hand around your waist. The other slips between your legs. She teases for only a moment before she’s slipping her fingers inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion.

It’s not as though you’re not ready for it.

You’re so wet you’d give her a snorkel if she wasn’t such an experienced sailor.

But she rides your high seas like it’s her full time job.

Lips on your clit, fingers working in and out. She squeezes your hip with her free hand. Her talented mouth is like fire. Dancing around just where you need it most.

You close your eyes and let out a low moan.

She’s being careful.

Gentle.

Loving you like she doesn’t want to hurt you.

You take back the impatience. You take back the need for more, more, more.

Your sweet, loving girlfriend is all you need.

Gentle mouth. Careful tongue.

Her between your legs, working you into oblivion like sex is just a vehicle to express how deeply she loves you.

“Tara.”

You cum with her name on your lips. Her mouth fused around your lips. You cum feeling safe and wanted and needed.

And when she’s done, she climbs back up your body and presses the softest kiss to your lips.

Nestles herself with her head in your chest. Right next to your heartbeat.

Where she should be.

You close your eyes once more.

Thread your fingers through her hair. Press the softest of kisses to her forehead.

And then she looks up at you, her pretty brown eyes shimmering.

“Love you.” She murmurs. She punctuates her words with a kiss.

Your chest is heaving. You allow yourself the moment. Body thrumming with your orgasm, the love of your life pressed tight to your side.

Tara curls into you. She waits a moment, then looks over at you,

“I’m going to be better for you,” She murmurs, “I’ve put you through hell, baby, and I know that. But it all ends now.”

You frown.

“I’m in heaven with you, no matter what you’ve done,” You say, after a quiet moment, “After what we’ve both done. Right or wrong, I love you. And you love me. And that’s all that matters.”

Tara tilts her head to yours.

She takes your lips in a long, searing kiss.

She says what she can’t with words.

You say it too.

And when you pull back, you know she understands.

She’s yours.

And you are undeniably, irrefutably, entirely:

All hers.

#all hers #tara carpenter #scream v #scream vi #jenna ortega #ghostface!tara #mine #fanfic #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x yn

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cherrygukki · 1 year

Text

after last night (m)

➸ pairing: rich fuckboy! jungkook x f. reader ➸ word count: 4.3k ➸ genres: acquaintances to fwb, smut, unreciprocated love, mild angst if you squint, and a sprinkle of fluff ➸ summary: After last night, Jungkook doesn't know what to do. You got to tell him when he's gonna see you again before he drives himself crazy. ➸ warnings: alcohol consumption, cursing, protected sex, whiny jk, rough, making out in public for like a minute, grinding, lots of kissing, hickeys, dirty talk, praise kink, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting (once), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, he's WHIPPED for reader's pussy, i almost forgot to say that jk also finishes early but that's okay he makes up for it🤭🤭 ➸ author's note: As what the title suggests, this short series (maybe) is inspired by After Last Night by Bruno Mars. I'm literally OBSESSED with this song so I couldn't help but write something dedicated to it. As always, enjoy reading!

Wishin' on a shootin' star, say a prayer for me

And hope it comes true

Jungkook can't help but heave a sigh, twirling the almost empty wine glass around in his hand while looking at the night sky with such loneliness in his eyes.

The sight above him is beautiful, but to him, there's nothing more beautiful than the image of your face in front of him right now. He craves you by his side, appreciating the view outside his window as you spend the most loving time in your lives.

So, when his eyes spot the phenomenal shooting star that swiftly passes through his home, his mind screams your name right away, praying to whoever's listening to him in the sky to have you here with him.

It's foolish, but he'll just about do anything to see you again, hoping that his wishes will eventually come true someday.

Throw my phone out the window, there's no player in me

Those days are through

When he said that he's willing to do anything for you, he meant it with every fiber of his being. Hence, it doesn't take Jungkook any second thought to pull his phone out of his pocket only to throw it out the window. He lets it fall freely from the high level of his penthouse without a care. Perhaps it's the alcohol seeping into his veins, putting him under the influence, but there still remains a part of him where he doesn't regret what he just did. After all, he only wants to prove you one thing by the end of the day —

He's more than willing to enter a new chapter in his life, and the title of that chapter is you.

You put it on me like I never felt before

That gushy, gushy good, girl, I want some more

While Jungkook continues to appreciate the mesmerizing city landscape beyond him, his mind couldn't help but drift off to the moment you met each other for the first time.

He had only intended to have a great time with his old friends during that highschool reunion of your batch. If only you hadn't attended that party like the gorgeous goddess you were to his eyes, then perhaps he wouldn't be so crazy like he is now.

Back then, Jungkook merely thought of you as the smart student who had a few admirers here and there, only ever getting the chance to talk with you every time you're paired up on a project, but he never thought of batting an eye towards your direction. However, the clearer view of your beauty in the present is in no doubt, indeed a present to him.

Without hesitation, he strikes up a conversation with you right away, leaving everyone else in the ditch as his entire attention was now directed on you, and you only.

It took hours for the party to end, thus it doesn't surprise you to see Jungkook impatient to get the both of you out of the venue, for you already knew where this night was about to end the moment he greeted you.

You haven't even gotten the opportunity to jump inside his car, but you're already making out on his hood like horny teenagers all over again. He kisses you with a spark of fire, spreading flames all over your body like a wildfire. You moan when he bites your bottom lip before pulling away, extending his warmth down to your exposed neck where he marks you like his personal treasure. You throw your head back in no shame whatsoever, disregarding the environment around you when you begin to grind your crotch against his thigh. The moans you let out our wanton, especially when he easily locates that sensitive spot on your neck to lick, suck, and bite on it that already has you reeling for the man.

You're certain there's a wet splotch in your underwear by now, already aroused from merely grinding away on Jungkook's thick thigh as well as him leaving dark spots all over your neck as if tomorrow will never come.

He slithers a tattooed hand beneath your dress to rub your clothed folds. You gasp loudly at the abrupt intrusion, letting him do whatever he desires at the moment while you relax at the sensational touches he leaves on you.

Whimpering, you grip tightly on his shoulder to urge him to go on. "Don't stop," you whine, "Please don't stop, fuck—"

"I won't, sweetheart." He licks at the fresh hickey he's just made while whispering. "I won't."

Before anyone could even catch up to what was going on, Jungkook hides the both of you from out in the open, hastily fishing his car keys from his pocket to unlock the Black Mercedes he's about to drag you in. He opens the backdoor, and soon enough, he's messily falling along with you on the leather seats where you continue to explore each other's bodies.

He locks the car again before hunching your dress around your waist to take a look at the sopping mess you've done with your panties, pushing them to the side when he finally gets to touch your bare pussy for the first time tonight.

Growling, he leans down to your ear only to send you a hot wave of shivers with the raspy whisper he lets out. "Gonna make you cum so hard tonight, sweetheart." He chuckles, "So fucking hard."

Jungkook wasn't expecting to receive exactly the same treatment he intends to give you tonight.

The moment you arrive at his penthouse, the two of you are already sticking to each other immediately like opposite poles of a magnet until you eventually navigate yourselves to the large couch in his living room. He settles you comfortably on his lap, hands traveling down to your clothed ass where he kneads them as you continue to lap each other out. You're the first one to pull away after a few more seconds, for he's already sucking the breath out of you with his plush lips alone.

You impatiently begin to unbutton his dress shirt, admiring the bulky figure that's hidden underneath the flimsy layer of fabric. He does the same to you, wrapping an arm around your back to unzip the tight outfit refraining his eyes from indulging in your gorgeous figure. The straps fall loosely around your shoulders, and soon enough, your dress is already messily hunched around your waist, exposing the entirety of your body to Jungkook's lust-hungry gaze.

By the time you get rid of his top, you don't hesitate to lean down and place kitten licks on his nipple. He quietly gasps at your bold move, resisting the temptation to have his eyes rolling back when you lick a fat stripe on his chest. He shivers underneath you, falling victim for your presence as he tightens the hold he has on your waist. Your pussy is gushing your arousal like a waterfall, and Jungkook doesn't fail to notice how desperate your whimpers get when you pick up the motion of your hips on his thigh.

Pulling away, you attack his lips ferociously, moaning oh-so wantonly that it has the tent in Jungkook's pants growing angrier by the minute. "I wanna ride your face."

"Fuck yeah, baby." Jungkook almost whines when you hastily settle yourself on his face, having your panties already ridden off earlier from the steamy car ride on the way home. You pant heavily, sensing his warm breath knocking right on your entrance, steadily aligning your core above his pillowy lips until he takes matters in his own hands — becoming more desirous for the sweet nectar leaking over him.

"Oh! Fuck, Jungkook—" You draw out a long mewl when he laps at your pussy like an oasis, leaving no drop of your juices out of his mouth as he dances his tongue around your sopping folds.

Nothing left could be heard in the spacious room aside from your lewd moans and the obscene noises of your wet pussy being eaten out by Jungkook.

You desperately grind on his face, searching for more friction, repeatedly nudging the tip of his nose with your clit which only has you throwing your head back in bliss.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels more than euphoric seeing your fucked out expression from below. He wiggles his tongue in every spot he deemed fit to have you toppling near the edge. Your taste alone is enough to get him off, bucking his hips in the air to seek for a release himself. Swallowing every drop you offered him only has him going crazier by the second, only urging him to fuck you with his tongue this instant, and that's what he exactly did.

The abrupt intrusion of his tongue between your folds elicited a loud whimper from you. He fucks you with his tongue like how he would with his cock — messy and fast.

Breathy chants of his name and a messy mantra of moans and whimpers come tumbling off your tongue. You bounce on his face like the desperate one you were, chasing that orgasm that's merely boiling from deep within your core.

He simply couldn't get enough of your essence, akin to getting intoxicated by the best form of addiction in the world. He continues to lap on your dripping cunt as if he's the next one in line on a death row, moaning every now and then which sends vibrations reverberating up your spine. Your mind blacks out, and now the only thing you can think of is Jungkook's skilled and wet tongue bringing you to an intense orgasm.

You don't hold back from leaving your mouth ajar to spill out the most sinful, yet heavenly noises Jungkook has ever heard, provoking him to add up to your pleasure by encouraging you to swivel your hips around his face.

Your pending orgasm is peeking around the corner, and the knot that's about to blow up inside you is about to make a mess on Jungkook's swollen lips. "Fuck, Jungkook, I'm cumming—" you whine, thighs shaking profusely until the knot snaps.

Gasping, Jungkook doesn't leave any of your juices unwelcome, for he's greedily drinking your juices up in pure gluttony. Your pussy keeps gushing out new waves of your orgasm for Jungkook to consume, and he can never get sick of it. If anything, it leaves him wanting more of that gushy sweetness you provide him, never ever being stunned from the way you do it.

Sweet, sticky, thick and pretty

You changed the game

At this point, Jungkook wants nothing more than to shove his cock in the prettiest pussy he's seen in his life, similar to a messy abstract painting that always succeeds in enticing the people's eyes — that's how beautiful Jungkook saw you.

Slowly lifting your hips off his panting face, you finally take a glimpse for the first time on how fucked out he already seemed. His lips are absolutely smeared with your essence, and perhaps a few of it even landed on his chin and his nose. However, your appreciation session on the man's features are cut short when he rips open the condom hiding in his pocket, swiftly stripping himself off his pants until his dick is finally sprang out in the open; tall and leaking with pre-cum.

He rolls the condom around his shaft, and before you know it, he's already forcing you down on his lap where your soft walls gain contact with the tip of his cock.

"Gonna fuck your pretty little pussy with my cock, baby. You want that?"

You mewl in response, eagerly nodding as you visibly bite your lower lip. Spreading your slick all over his tip, you steadily sink yourself around his girth, eliciting a guttural groan between the two of you. For a moment, you can feel the wind knock out of your lungs from how full you felt. Your walls kept themselves snug around Jungkook's veiny shaft, and he swears, he's losing his composure faster by the second.

"Fuck," he lowly whimpers when you finally bottom out, large hands settling on your hips to slowly drag you up again. Your pussy already leaves a trail of dribbling slick down the length of his cock, and it definitely earns a hiss to come out between Jungkook's teeth.

He helps you in riding him, a lewd yelp falling off your pretty lips when your hips crash down on his thick thighs, causing his tip to kiss the top of your cervix inside. Soon enough, your pace becomes increasingly desperate, as what seemed to be mildly moderate a few seconds back turns to a merciless wrath of Jungkook's cock roughly fucking into your dripping cunt.

"Jungkook!" You cry his name in utter bliss before the weight of your head gives in, leaning on his shoulder for support as you unknowingly drool on the taut muscle. He growls animalistically, fucking you with full force and great speed which leaves the air humid, and the sound of skin slapping and wet squelches of your pussy fill the quiet space of his penthouse.

A staccato of breathy moans spill out from your lips like a waterfall. His cock was covered in your slick, shimmering in your thick arousal which only heightened Jungkook's stimulation.

"God, look at you—your cunt is drooling all over my cock, baby. Wettest pussy in the fucking world, shit—"

Your walls clench from his words, another wave of your juices gushing out from your pussy. No one else can make you hornier than the man fucking you right at this very moment. His brows are furrowed in concentration, mind unable to think of anything else aside from his cock rearranging your guts. He's practically pierced everywhere, and the fact that he has a full-sleeve tattoo covering the whole of his right arm only aids on to your arousal.

He catches you momentarily staring at him, and he only simpers at you. "Fuck, like what you see, baby?" The clench you do confirms your thought. "Yeah, I know you do, baby. Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, isn't it? Such a good fucking cunt, taking dick so obediently, yeah?"

"S-So good," you mewled on his shoulder, breathing becoming labored when his tip repeatedly nudges your sweet spot. The obscene noises increase in volume, which encourages Jungkook to remain consistent with his thrusts.

Everything feels messy and sticky down below where your arousal has certainly reached Jungkook's balls, covering them in white as some of it land on your ass where they clap in motion of his rough thrusts.

Jungkook swears to God that he's losing it every minute, feeling his climax build up faster than usual, too lost in the incredible sensation of your tight walls clinging onto his length for dear life. Oh, and was he extremely whipped for the way you keep creaming around the base of his cock as if you're marking him as your own. He tries to hold back the fighting orgasm bubbling within his gut, but you just had to keep him snug against your warm folds for one last time until he's eventually reaching his breaking point.

"Shit, baby, your cunt's so fucking good I think I'm gonna cum soon—" He draws out one last whine before he's filling up the thin latex material. He breathes heavily, knowing that he's never been the one to cum first during sex. Feeling his dick immediately soften, he pushes you off his cock and pulls the condom off his shaft, hastily flipping you around so he's the one on top of you this time. He grips your knees to force your legs wide, kneeling down so his face is directly in front of your dribbling cunt.

"You haven't cum yet, haven't you, angel?"

"N-No," you stutter, sensing the proximity of his face between your folds.

"Sad you didn't get to cum on my cock, but my fingers will do the trick for now."

Before you could even fully react to his statement, he's already plunging three long digits in your warm cunt, plunging them inside and out at a swift rate that has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in an instant.

"Holy shit, pussy still so fucking tight even after getting split open with my cock." He bites his lip, pleased with the wet noises your cunt makes whenever he digs them deep within your cavern. You throw your head back as if you're floating on clouds, eyes giving in as you surrender to Jungkook's fingers finishing you off.

"Such a good girl," he coos, "taking my fingers like your pussy's made for them."

You can feel your high lingering in your lower abdomen, that familiar knot beginning to form and Jungkook detects it right away. You almost lost it when he began to increase the speed of his fingers, but what has you screaming in such a pornographic manner is his mouth sucking your clit ferociously.

He laps on your clit like a madman, desperate to reach your climax. Your legs begin to profusely shake, and your screams morph into pleasurable sobs that have Jungkook smiling against your heat. You're flooding more and more juices on his hand, his tongue aiding to your fast-approaching orgasm.

"Don't stop, don't stop, pleeeaasseeee, don't fucking stop!" You pant wildly as your hands fly to his soft locks, gripping on them for dear life to lock his mouth in place of your clit. Jungkook was absolutely shameless for loudly slurping on your wetness, flicking your clit with his tongue simultaneously which brought the cherry on top for your orgasm.

"So good, I'm cumming, shit—"

He temporarily pulls away from your cunt. "Go on and make a mess all over my face, pretty girl. You did so, so fucking well for me."

With that, he sucks on your clit for one last time before your vision fades to black. A large wave of your wetness gushes out of your pussy, forcing his fingers to pull out which has him aiming for your clit right away. He rapidly rubs your clit, groaning in satisfaction with the mess he caused.

"Damn, angel, you just fucking squirted all over me."

You're panting heavily, unable to register anything that Jungkook's saying to you, for the recent orgasm you experienced has just hit you in the head like a truck. Your body is still twitching due to the overstimulation, but Jungkook didn't seem to care at all.

Jungkook appreciates how your pussy appears to be more glossy from how much you squirted, licking his lips in temptation before leaning in to swipe a fat stripe of his tongue from the bottom of your folds to your gorging clit. You shiver from the overstimulation, taking the pleasure nonetheless.

How can you ever make him stop when this man is an absolute fucking sex god?

"Fuck, your pussy's so sweet, baby," he whines on your folds before proceeding to flick his tongue left and right at a rapid pace. Your eyes struggle to keep themselves open, for the only sensation you yearn to keep is his mouth working wonders on you. Your moans increase in both volume and pitch, and you swear the man eating you out like a whole buffet is about to pull another mind-boggling orgasm out of you.

He only adds on to your rapture when he inserts three of his slender digits inside you again. You gasp loudly, legs profusely spasming to the point where you can't keep them open anymore. You attempt to squeeze your thighs between Jungkook's face, which causes him to forcefully pry them open when he growls on your pussy.

"This cunt will be the fucking death of me, angel," he chuckles, planting a soft peck on your clit contrary to the merciless motion of his fingers. "Make a mess one more time for me, sweetheart, hm?"

"I-I can't," you sob, nails clawing on the fabric of the couch as you feel your climax flying to its peak. "Too much..!"

"You can and you fucking will," he growls again, and the vibrations felt on your heat is what triggers another mind-shattering orgasm to crash down on you. Your legs wail around from the strong intensity, but Jungkook held you still. His mouth remains unbothered when you spill your juices all over his lips, happily lapping up on your remains.

The overstimulation makes you shudder, and your cunt at this point is overly sensitive from the continuous motions of his wet tongue. "T-Too much." You use all of your remaining strength to push his head away, and you're thankful he did, only to land a wad of spit onto your sensitive cunt, anyway. He rubs the small bundle of nerves in slow, circular motions, which makes you whine.

"Jungkook, I really c-can't anymore," you whine, and he finally separates himself away from your cunt despite the addiction coursing in his veins. He leans down on your face to pull you in one last tender kiss. Your taste has definitely made its mark on Jungkook's lips, evident when he tangles his tongue with yours.

He's the first to pull away before things become more heated again, abruptly carrying you in the air with his taut arms to bring you to his bedroom. "You should look at yourself, pretty," he snickers, "You look fucking adorable in my arms like this."

You blush at his comment, shying yourself away from his gaze which Jungkook merely chuckled to. He brings you to his bedroom where he provides you with the most tender care you've experienced in your life, gently cleaning you up here and there with a wet tissue as well as giving you a generous donation with one of his shirts to keep you warm.

Jungkook was never a big fan of aftercare, preferring to keep things casual by letting whoever he hooked up with leave right away. However, seeing you laying there, exhausted from everything, gave him this strong urge to cradle you in his arms in an instant, which makes him exactly do that.

In tangled sheets, you and Jungkook sleep through the night with your limbs intertwining one another. He couldn't exactly place the blossoming sensation in his chest, but he decides to brush it off, thinking it'll all wither away in the morning.

Boy, was he wrong.

After last night

After last night, I think I'm in love with you

The next day, Jungkook wakes up next to the large empty space of his bed. At first, he could hardly remember everything that occurred last night, until the memories all came crashing down at him at once when the image of your face appeared in his brain.

His heart hammers the moment he thought about the long, yet ephemeral night he spent with you. His first instinct is to get up from bed and call out your name, thinking you're still somewhere within his residence.

"___?" He's been chanting your name like a broken toy, searching for every part of his penthouse. To no avail, though, it seems you have left Jungkook alone without bidding him a proper farewell. The only trace of you he has is the small note you wrote placed on top of the counter. It merely stated about you leaving extra early for personal reasons, saying you enjoyed the night with him nonetheless.

However, Jungkook feels himself pouting when you didn't bother leaving a number for him nor any sort of connection that'll have him talk to you again. He reminisces about the valuable time he cherished with you last night, remembering even the smallest details of you. His favorite feature of yours is definitely your smile, following the sound of your giggles echoing through his ears. You possess the plumpest lips that are worth dying for, and definitely the belle of the party last night.

To top it all off, you also had the sweetest pussy he's ever laid his hands on.

He didn't realize that he's been staring into empty space for the past few minutes, immediately blinking away any thoughts of you before deciding to proceed with his daily routine.

A lingering sensation of longing for you still remains in his chest, though. And it's slowly driving him to madness.

After last night, he's probably in love with you for all he knows.

Woke up and I can't get you out of my head

After last night, I don't know what to do

Jungkook has never seen himself be this crazy for a woman, let alone it being after a supposed one night stand.

Did you perhaps cast a hex on him? Your face haunts him even during the middle of daylight. You're like an addiction he can't get rid of no matter how hard he tries. You come to him like you were meant for him, and he can't help but be simultaneously overwhelmed and amused from how much he's thinking about you.

He can't think straight from how much you've been conquering his mind throughout the day, spacing out every minute and so to cling onto the last traces of you by solely remembering you.

Jeon Jungkook is absolutely head over heels for you.

(Baby, you've got to tell me)

When I'm gon' see you again

On the couch is Jungkook endlessly scrolling through his phone, checking out every social media app possible to possibly find you and gain contact with you for the sake of his remaining sanity. It seems like fate has been on the wrong side with him when he's unable to find a hint of you no matter how thorough he searches.

He can only sigh when his hope begins to plummet. Perhaps you were only meant to be another mere one night stand that'll add on to Jungkook's promiscuous history and nothing more. After all, you were aware from the very beginning that a man like Jungkook can't be trusted, thus making you leave before you could possibly get attached to the man.

However, after last night, he doesn't bat a single eye to any other woman whenever he's out with his friends.

After last night, you're all that takes up most of Jungkook's mind.

After last night, he began doing the craziest shit all because of you.

After last night, Jungkook only clings onto one question for the following weeks of his life: When is he going to see you again?

after last night (two)

#bts #bts smut #bangtan #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #fanfic

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