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#we all deserve to be the little spoon
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Meg: rolls over in bed and hugs him from behind "haha now you're the little spoon!"
Heimdall: on the outside, letting it slide
"Hilarious. Go to sleep."
Heimdall: on the inside tearfully,
'I'm the little spoon-'
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dredshirtroberts · 3 months
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the nice thing about being back home is that i can make poor food choices and handle the consequences in the safety of my own environment
the bad thing about this is that i am very good at making poor food choices when we're home and therefore safe, and thus must handle the consequences.
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pepprs · 1 year
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ok mutuals be honest. should i “break up” w my counselor over these texts yes or no
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#purrs#i don’t have the spoons to type much let alone reply to anybody ESPECIALLY not him bc this fucking pissed me off so bad i have been too#angry to reply. like what the fuck is this. im going through a hard time right now so why are you judging me for wanting us to talk about#that instead of me doing your stupid little homework assignment. i just feel so judged by him all the time and i can’t work up the courage#to tell him or end things. but i am actually dreading talking abt this new development / topic w him anyways bc the last time we talked abt#it he judged and pushed me so hard and i got SOOOOO angry but also maybe he was right and just saying thigns i didn’t want to hear and then#his supervisor got sick and he said he had this plan for us to do the erikson thing and we’ve barely started it and i feel so bad bc i#genuinely think it could work but i just don’t mesh well with him. but it’s like i should give it a try and stick it out bc there’s only a f#few months left and what if things get better. and also ihavent given him any indication of how unhappy ive been w him as my counselor and i#don’t want to spring it on him out of nowhere. but no we’ve been working together since October and i don’t feel seen or supported by him at#all an di know i have to leave bc i deserve better but things are so bad rn and my brain has been broken all weekend and i just don’t have t#the strength and idk what to reply or if i should but i think everyone is probably gonna say i need to leave him and i think you’d be right.#delete later#i truly do not have the mental capacity to rn but if u go thru my other purrs posts i talk abt some of the shit he’s done that has just been#building and building and i know i need to do smth about it bc it’s not okay. but im so scared.
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lyekisses · 1 year
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as IF pete would not want to be kissed on the forehead and tucked into bed. like have u even consumed the entire body of his work?!?
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invictarre-archive · 1 year
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time to re-paste my tags and tag everything I’ve been getting lazy with  :))))))))
can’t wait for these to get deleted !!!!!!!!!!
#dear queen of hearts; let me grow you red roses so you can learn how to be kind | out of character#hard and fast shines the grin that we flash; but there's a vulnerable stripe or two on me | musings#you can learn a lot of things from the flowers; for especially in the month of June | inbox memes#let us together see how high we can fly before the sun melts the wax in our wings | dash commentary#pull the sword from the stone and start forging your own legendary stories | headcanons#I've found fame to be a fickle food; lying delicately across an ever shifting plate | aesthetics#all the parts combine to one with all of us around the sun; everything will fall away; make order from the disarray | worldbuilding#I can make it easy; I can take the lead. if you think they're looking at you; they're looking at me | answered ask#owo ??? what's this ????? *notices your post* | saved#there's no such thing as time to kill or time to throw away | dash games#every fight has its costs that we've had to pay; all won by the strength of the party we've made | muse relevant imagery#under a canopy of stars where thought and truth divorce; in that latticework of dreams we are guiltless | dani x leon#I think we deserve a soft epilogue my love; we are good people and we've both suffered enough | v: galar's golden boy#up where the mountains meet the heavens above; out where the lightning splits the sea | v: vientown ranger#through the rain and the storm and the flood I can feel their approach like a fire in my blood | v: treasure town trio#edge of glory; write your story; seize the moment with no regrets | v: my hero academia#and the cat's in the cradle with the silver spoon; little boy blue and the man in the moon | npcs: arthur brandt-muriell#and it feels like flying out of fool's paradise; I'll leave them in their cages and rise to shining heights | v: a new chapter#we can outshine the sun; we need only believe that two stars shine brighter than one | v: childhood
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riseatlantisss · 6 months
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The end we start from
Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3
Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.
TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood
A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.
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Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.
Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.
You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.
Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.
“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”
You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”
“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”
You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.
“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.
“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.
“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”
Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.
“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”
His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.
“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.
“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.
Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.
He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.
But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.
Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.
He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.
You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.
“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.
He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.
You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.
Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.
Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.
Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.
“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.
He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.
“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”
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clandestineloki · 8 months
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miguel o'hara x shy crybaby housewife!reader (p2)
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part 2 to this
miguel rolls you over on your back and takes your wrists in his hand, kissing your fingers and smiling up at you
it may be a sincere, sweet smile, but you're very flustered because this is your very attractive husband mind you
and you're still blushing like a schoolgirl when he looks at you with hearts in his eyes!!
he laughs softly at your flustered expression, and he just makes you even more embarrassed by spreading ur thighs open and licking his lips.
and he eats you up literally bc he bites down on your thigh like ur a little bun of bread, with the chomp noise and all >:(
then he goes n leaves a huge bite like the vampire daddy he is and then kisses it better, leaving a hickey and riling you up n making you whine
he is so mean!! but hes also calling u a good little wife so u're feeling very floaty <33
then his hands knead ur breasts and you whimper, so sensitive after the bath to the point where a brush of his skin against yours makes you super wet between ur legs poor babyy
and miguel notices that and bites his lip. you're such a needy baby, aren't you, gatita?
u never wanna admit it, but that's okay, he'll just prove it by fucking you so good you go dumb <33
so he gets to work on the fountain of youth between your legs
licks a fat stripe up your cunt and makes you twitch and shiver
stay still, baby, he mumbles against ur pussy, lean back, let daddy enjoy his favorite dessert~
fuck you taste so sweet, gatita, you got daddy wrapped around your little finger, mm?
you really have no idea how sexy you are :((
he licks up all your juices and laughs when he feels your thighs shaking, and just keeps eating his lovely wife out like she's his last meal
then when he feels your little hole clenching down, just so desperate to be filled
he shoves two fingers in and grins when you scream in pleasure, coming as he curls his fingers up into your cunt as you squirt all over his face <3333
pulls his fingers away and licks up the mess on his hand
then he holds his fingers out to you like "wanna taste"
n you're like "eww no" and he bursts out laughing
"more for me then hahaha- ow! dont hit me gatita"
he's disgusting...ly charming omg
u turn on ur side facing away from him but he pushes u on your back again
did you think he was done with you?? oh no no
he sinks in, no more prep needed since he got u sooooo needy and even his teasing made you so flustered nd aroused
"ah, such a cute little plaything, letting me fuck her as i please, you like when i tease you dont you bebita<3"
you whimper and turn ur head away, but he goes no no babyy i wont tease anymore, my pretty wife just look at me please?~
you turn ur head back to him and he grins, thrusting even harder
"ahh that's it baby~" he grunts, pinning your wrists to the side and kissing your neck sloppily.
"d-daddy!" you whine, squirming under his weight and he laughs
"don't run from me, bebita, we both know your pretty pussy loves me, doesnt it~?"
and he rubs ur little clit and makes you scream and go dumb from bliss
then he goes even harder, overstimulating u, but when you can't hear him, he whispers so many sorrys and i love yous because he knows he doesnt deserve such a pretty little wife who lets him do whatever he wants with her :((
but he hears you slur out, "i love you" and he kisses you passionately, both his and your doubts gone because this moment is all you two needed to calm down
then he wraps the two of you up in the blankets in a spooning position and kisses you goodnight n cradles you in his arms
but not before he slips his cock in u again >:))
he makes you sleep that way cockwarming him
and as a reward u wake up to the feeling of him lazily thrusting into you <3
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blue-jisungs · 2 months
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fighting with them ♡
author's note. my very poor attempt on angst written in june 2023 LMAOOOOO enjoy!! (do not ask me why am i posting it now, i dont know either.)
making up after a fight - here !
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┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]
chan couldn’t put a finger on it but there was something going on with you lately. from all of the people in the world he knew the best how life can get overwhelming sometimes. you were there for him during his hardships of being an idol… and a human being, in general.
and clearly, you were going through something too. but you didn’t say a word and even seemed to avoid him.
you arrived home late at night on one friday, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. chris is probably… working. so you you can easily sneak into your bedroom without him noticing you, right?
“y/n”
you turned around and saw him in the hallway, hair messed up and glass of water in his hand. his face lit up upon seeing you, however you could sense the weird tone of his voice.
“hi chris. i’ll go to sleep” you mumbled, taking off your shoes
“wait, can we talk? i know it’s late but i feel like nowadays we’re roommates, not a couple” he said. here it is. you let out another sigh
“i had a lot on my head today, can we not?” you grunted, leaving your bag on the floor.
“that’s the thing, y/n. there’s something going on and you just won’t tell me. and when we’re gonna talk when not now? you avoid me, let’s face it” chris continued, voicing out his worries. you knew.
“i’m sorry, okay? it’s just… i don’t want to talk right now and…” you pinched the bridge of your nose, earning a scoff from chan.
“you never want to talk, apparently. relationships are build on trust and communication. and i get the feeling you don’t trust me at all” his voice got a little louder but not to the range of shouting.
“listen, i–“ you started, genuine exhaustion feeling your body. you were afraid to snap and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. especially right now, especially at chris. but if it continues–
“i’m tired of your excuses, y/n! let me help you, talk to me, anything–“ chris pleaded and before you realised, it happened.
“can you shut the fuck up? i told you i’m tired! we’ll talk once you stop interrupting me for god’s sake!”
the realisation sank in as you watched chan’s features change with pain. his jaw tensed, eyes becoming cold.
“sure… i’m sorry. good night” he huffed, his steps leading him back to his studio.
your eyes watered, heart shattering into millions of pieces. you fucked up.
changing into your pyjamas you fell asleep on the couch, feeling like a burden in your own bed. your and chris’. and above all, you felt strange and empty, trying (and failing miserably) to fall asleep without him by your side.
┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]
you approached lino quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he jolted a bit by your sudden appearance, the wooden spoon falling out of his hand.
“oh, sorry baby. how are you today?” you hummed when minho with a grumpy face grabbed the spoon.
“you’re so fucking clingy sometimes…” he grunted, causing your eyes to widen “get off me”
the coldness of his voice made you a bit scared, backing away. minho continued with his cooking task.
“like a literal baby, i swear. let me breathe for once, is this too much to ask for?” he snapped, not even looking at you.
you understood, of course you did. when you started dating minho he wasn’t too big on skinship but… he never spoke like that to you in general or about this.
“okay. i’m sorry” you mumbled, trying not to show how hurt you got by his words “i’ll be in the bedroom”
he didn’t even say anything. you held your tears and walked away, only letting them go once you were buried in your duvet.
┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]
you let out a deep sigh, massaging your temples. changbin was looking at you with straight face, the tense silence between you two constantly interrupted by your group chat exploding with notifications.
“y/n, for the millionth time. they don’t deserve you, they literally treat you like shit” he grunted, glancing at your phone and reading the last message “'y/nnie we’re sorry, the date just slipped my mind', are you kidding me? what kind of an excuse is that?”
the thing was that your friends stood you up, again. lately they do that all the time but you know that they’re busy, just like you.
“a normal one! do i have to remind you the times you forgot about our dates? or i did? we’re humans, we forget things. and they’re my friends, they wouldn’t stand me up! we already rescheduled for tomorrow” you hissed “stop talking shit about my friends!”
“i’m not!” changbin whined “it just pisses me off because they meet up without you! don’t tell me you don’t know that!”
“i don’t because they don’t do that! stop accusing them!” you yelled, surprised by yourself. changbin sighed, his tongue poking the side of his cheek
“fine. just don’t run crying to me when you get stood up again, probably tomorrow” he huffed, crossing his arms
“i won’t!” you grunted, grabbing your phone and walking away to your bedroom.
┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]
your boyfriend came home, a loud slam of his bag hitting the floor lighting a red lamp in your head. there was no usual, cheerful “hi baby!” or “i’m home!” coming from him.
hyunjin stepped into the kitchen, ignoring you, and poured himself some water.
“hi hyune” you hummed, approaching him. he mumbled something incoherent back, eyes everywhere but on you. you sighed quietly, shaking your head “how was your day?”
“awful, i’m exhausted” he grunted, poking his cheek with his tongue
“i’m sorry to hear that… here’s some food, i grabbed it from work. let me just finish heating it up” you hummed, smiling softly “and later if you want we can watch a movie?”
“just… i need some time alone. i’m tired, y/n. i know you wouldn’t get it because i’m an idol, i dance and work for the whole day but i just need to rest, okay?” hyunjin grunted, making you halt.
“what do you mean i wouldn’t get it?” you frowned, turning your gaze at him
“you’re… well, you’re not an idol. can i just-?” he spat out, running out of patience.
“oh, so i can’t feel exhausted? i know that working as a cleaning lady is not as mighty as being an idol, but it’s tiring as well” you said slowly, trying not to lose your temper.
“yeah, sure” he scoffed.
your eyes widened, genuine hurt breaking your heart.
“i’ll eat it later, don’t mind heating it up” he grunted and before he waddled away to the bedroom, he heard your murmurs.
“it’s for me… and you don’t mind talking to a filthy cleaning lady later…”
┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]
han was watching you for the past fifteen minutes, tongue poking the side of his cheek. you seemed to have fun while chatting with the other guy. way too much fun.
he just let out a sigh and took a sip of his drink. he hated it. he hated that he had to go to this party, that someone spilled a drink over him, that the food sucked and that you… you were ignoring him.
you let out a laugh and shook your head. the guy who you were talking to, beomgyu, patted your head with a grin.
suddenly you felt a hand on your arm, squeezing it. you turned around and saw jisung and his… tensed jaw.
“oh ji! i was wondering where you were! this is beomgyu, jeongin’s friend…” you smiled and beomgyu greeted your boyfriend with a happy smile
“we need to talk” han just grunted and walked away. you shrugged and beomgyu sent you a questioning look.
following jisung outside, where the weather wasn’t too pleasant, you rubbed your arms and enjoyed the silence.
“what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head.
“are you seriously asking me 'what’s up?'… y/n… you’ve been having the time of your life with that guy” he hissed, crossing his arms.
“beomgyu? what do you mean? we were just talking, that’s all” you scoffed, not fully understanding what he meant.
“please, y/n. you two were flirting! it’s unbelievable” he snarled, his voice raising dangerously.
“jisung, you know i only love you. i was just talking with him because he–“ you started
“cut the bullshit. it’s good to know you had fun at the party but i’m going home. have fun flirting with him” he bursted out, walking away
“jisung, what the fuck?!” you called but he didn’t stop “what do you want me to say? i… i seriously! you can ask him! i wasn’t saying anything–“
entering the room again filled his ears with music, jisung didn’t catch the way your voice broke down. legs leading him towards the exit, he noticed beomgyu watching him shocked.
┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]
you drummed your fingers on the table nervously, giving the waiter an apologetic look. he walked up to you, sighing.
“i’m sorry ma’am but if you’re not planning on ordering something i’ll have to ask you to leave…” he said. you nodded, grabbing your purse
“i understand” you said and paid for the two glasses of water you ordered earlier.
“i’m sorry” the waiter mumbled, causing blood to flow to your cheeks. you shook your head and left, dialling your boyfriend’s number for the seventh time this night.
“–yeah, i know, right?! what’s up, y/n?” felix answered, the voices in the background becoming quieter.
“where are you?” you asked bluntly, crossing your arms
“i’m at changbin’s, why?” he asked confused
“why? well maybe because i was waiting for you like an idiot for the past two hours? why didn’t you pick up your phone earlier?” you spat out, voice starting to shake
“what are you talking about?” felix grunted
“our date, felix! like the third one you missed because allegedly you were busy? are you doing this on purpose or what?” you huffed, sitting down on a nearby bench.
“i was busy, y/n! i admit, today i forgot but we made plans with guys earlier and i just…” he trailed off.
“you just forgot. again. i don’t have any more patience or strength for that, felix. don’t you see that? you’re prioritising work over me” your voice broke, nails digging into your knees “if it keeps happening–“
“y/n… don’t say that! you know i’m busy, i’m an idol! what did you expect?” felix scoffed.
“i expected my boyfriend to be present in my life, you know? i understand that you’re an idol, i respect that and i support it… i just wish you were there for me, felix. do you even know i got fired yesterday?” you asked and were met with silence “exactly. now… have fun at changbin’s, say hi to the boys. i’m not coming back tonight”
with that you hung up, chest thumping in your chest. well, you’re going to have a sleepover at your best friend’s… again.
┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]
you hummed happily, just getting off the phone with your mom. entering the kitchen you noticed seungmin with his glasses atop of his nose, reading something.
“hey, seungmo! do you have any plans on weekend?” you asked. he shook his head as a no “great! my parents are visiting, then”
he groaned, making you frown.
“what?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“again?” he finally looked up at you, fixing his glasses.
“what do you mean again? they visited us like, month ago!” you shook your head
“it’s just… tiring” he mumbled, playing with the hem of the paper he was reading
“tiring? they’re my parents, seungmin. and it’s hard for them too. they’re still getting used to living in korea, i know how that felt and besides, you should get used to it” you huffed
“okay, so? can’t you just go on your own? i wanted to practice, i could use some time alone” seungmin grunted. you bit your lip, looking down. did he just… did not like your parents? you couldn’t lie, it hurt you.
“fine. have fun then because i guess i’ll leave earlier, since you could use some time alone” you murmured
“are you angry at me?” he asked, some kind of mockery in his voice
“yeah, i am! do you not like them? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” the question made him scoff
“i just don’t feel like going, geez! just go, you’re being annoying today…” he grunted, reassuming his previous task.
you mumbled a soft oh and left your place right away, not bothering to pack. your parents have some clothes of yours at their place either way.
┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]
you watched jeongin text someone with a huge grin on his face, fingers quickly tapping against the screen of his phone. letting out a deep sigh, you reassumed watching the show.
“wait, why’d you start?” he asked suddenly, putting his phone away
“i asked you like, five times if i can start already” you grunted, not looking at him
“sorry, i was…” he hummed, hesitant “…texting someone”
“who was it?” you asked, not really caring about the weight of the question…
“no one important” he huffed. now, his answer made you confused. anxiety slowly creeping into your heart, you looked at him
“why’d you answer like that? i’m sure that person wouldn’t be too happy to hear that” you joked lightly. jeongin just shrugged, letting out an annoyed sigh. there was a sound of door opening somewhere in the dorm.
“can we just watch?” he asked coldly.
you fell quiet, mind racing with thoughts. if you think about it, you caught him texting and smiling like a teenage girl a couple of times this week. and he always quickly turned off his phone once you were near him. what was it?
“oh, hi you two!” you heard changbin’s voice. you turned around to wave at him and he waved back, then turning your eyes again at the screen “oi, jeongin-ah, did eunjeong text you back?”
your eyes widened upon hearing the name. eunjeong. jeongin’s ex.
you looked at him, his face immediately dropping. you sent a death glare to changbin that only now realised what he said. but that meant… he knew.
“you’re texting her? your ex?” you asked, crossing your arms. jeongin sighed, trying his best not to roll his eyes.
“and what if i am, geez! it’s not that serious, y/n” he grunted, looking at you.
“for me it is, jeongin. you know i have trust issues… and i don’t trust her, especially! besides, you told me you blocked her…?” you asked, heart racing abnormally fast.
“i lied, okay? because you’re so sensitive about everything, just like now! yes, i’m texting eunjeong and honestly, i don’t regret it! she’s fun, okay? we broke up on a good terms” he grunted. you stood up, walking away “where are you going?!”
“i need to think” you hissed, passing changbin by
“that’s exactly what i was talking about… god, such a crybaby over nothing” jeongin murmured, grabbing his phone.
before he could open up a chat with eunjeong, he heard a loud door slam.
masterlist <3
taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien
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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months
Note
Domestic fluffy things you say? I’m here to hopefully help with that!
Can we get some cuddling hcs with the Lin Kuei trio? For example are they big on cuddling, favorite cuddle position, how is it like cuddling with them, ext. Just a lil idea I had and thought was cute and simple and classic also I hope you have a better day :)
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Tomas Vrbada
Is MASSIVE on cuddling.
He loves it, lives for it, craves it. Cuddling to Tomas is therapeutic and gets his mind off of things that would normally disrupt his ability to get proper sleep.
It helps ground him and redirects his mind to focus on you and how your presence gives him comfort, reassured him of his insecurities and daily stresses, bringing him into a more relaxed state.
His top 3 would have to be;
Honeymoon cuddle
Sweetheart cradle
Good old fashion spooning
They’re all very self explanatory so I ain’t going to go into details. The man just likes holding you okay?
Cuddling either Tomas is bliss. Utter bliss.
He made you forget about everything that had ever concerned you, everything that had caused you pain, fear, anger, despair. He made you believe that everything was alright because you were within his loving embrace and that nothing else should matter.
Even his evened out breathing made you feel calm as it focused your mind onto his breaths, reminding you that lying beneath you was a living, breathing man who’d do anything you could ever possibly ask for and request for nothing in return. Tomas heart was too kind for most people, even you didn’t feel deserving of something so pure and beautiful despite everything he’s seen and done in the past, you were surprised that such a man still exists in this day and age.
So as a solemn vow, you swore to have this every night, not just for you but for Tomas too, where the both of you would be able to shed the worries and daily stresses. Only to eventually forget all about them as you fortified yourselves within the comforting arms of the other; Sleeping more peacefully than either of you had in ages.
Bi-Han
Isn’t massive on cuddling, he doesn’t like anything that might portray him as weak or soft in the slightest.
A mindset he’s developed overtime, repressing any and all childish wants and desires he might’ve had at the earliest convenience. Not wanting any distractions on his road to power. Plus he’s cold in more ways than one because like Kuai Liang, due to his body temperature, it makes something seemingly easy as cuddling difficult all of a sudden.
Even if you did ask hypothetically what his favourite cuddling positions, Bi-Han would probably say ones that requires the least amount of contact on his end:
Back to back - so he can feel that you’re still there.
Back cuddles- you’re the one cuddling up against that broad back of his.
Shoulder to shoulder - same reason as back to back; knowing that you’re still with him.
Cuddling Bi-Han is…something and I don’t mean this negativity but it’s Bi-Han, what else can I say other than cold, rigid, and a little awkward? The man is on guard even in his sleep and cuddling him the way you do doesn’t necessarily help.
Besides that there’s some semblance of companionship when you press your back into his own. It felt as though you had each made a nonverbal pact to have each other’s back in your most vulnerable states; Something that naturally comes with a sense of trust being put in the other and Bi-Han isn’t one to trust blindly.
Cuddling Bi-Han maybe awkward and a little finicky due to the walls this man had put up in order to protect himself from everyone else, he oddly enough made you feel safe, he made you feel guarded and warm, which was weird considering how abnormally cold he was in every possible way. Yet you knew he held honour- or his version of it at least- highly, so you didn’t feel like you’d have to second guess his every actions because that wasn’t the type of man Bi-Han was…
Even though cuddling him was obviously something he wasn’t attuned to, he nonetheless made you feel regarded in his own special way.
Kuai Liang
Kuai Liang runs extremely warm, which could be considered overwhelming or perfect depending on the type of person you are, so whilst he likes contact; he likes to keep it minimal unless told otherwise.
He prioritises your comfortability over his own and understands that his abnormally body heat can be a bit too much at times. Outside of that he’s more than accepting of cuddling.
Kuai Liang’s top 3 favourite cuddling positions would have to be ones that were less on the physical context but unlike Bi-Han, it typically ends up with him cuddling you in some form of him protecting you:
Leg hug- incase you get overwhelmed by his body heat and need space but also wanting to keep touching some part him.
Face to face - this one’s a personal favourite of his because he loves waking up and falling asleep to your face.
Chest rest -the one where your heads on his chest and he’s keeping you in place with his arms.
Cuddling Kuai Liang is warm and secure because when you’re in his arms, feeling his warmth deep into you just as his arms tightened their grip, you’ve never felt more protected in your life then you did in Kuai Liang’s hold.
You never had to worry about being hurt, especially when Kuai Liang was there to shield you from all possible forms of harm; nor the way he always had his back facing towards the door so that if something were to happen then he was able to keep you safe with his body.
It was his duty to protect you, as he would often say whenever you asked him why this was.
You couldn’t act as though his declaration didn’t have your heart melting into a puddle.
So now you just allow his warmth to consume you like a thick, warm, weighted blanket that blocked out any and all cold that threatened to try and get to you; all the while you snuggled closer into him because despite every last part of you touching every last part of him wasn’t enough, you needed to be even closer to him. You wanted your souls to touch and feel the presence of the other but since you physically couldn’t do that, you settled for forehead touches instead. It was just as intimate after all.
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spacebarbarianweird · 2 months
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OK OK you just gotta hear me on this one,, Astarion and gn reader where reader is little spoon and Astarion can *sense* just how relaxed reader gets. Instead of their pulse racing from his touches they slow down. Muscles relaxed. Happy little sighs.
^^ he can’t handle this btw he’s absolutely fucking bewildered
A Person to Hold
Synopsis: Fluffy post-game epilogue
Tags: fluff
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
He looks at you, unable to stop smiling.
"They deserve happiness. We all do. And I will forever be grateful to have found it with you," Astarion says.
You make a step forward with open arms. Astarion hugs you, closing his eyes like a content cat. 
A mere half year ago these hugs scared him. It was weird. It was scary. What did you want? Did you want to hurt him? Did you want his body?
No.
None of that.
You taught him not to be afraid. You hug him daily and if he occasionally flinches you don’t let him go. You hold him in your arms when he has nightmares and kiss away his tears when it's just too much.
"I feel bad keeping you all to myself! After all, I get to see you every night."
"Are you sure? You won't be bored?"
You kiss his cheek and leave. In a few seconds, you look back, trying to see if he hasn’t changed his mind. 
"Darling, I can spend some time with myself. Go on, go and mingle. And I will be there, when you’re ready. I will always be here, my love."
He hasn’t. Astarion sits down beside a campfire sensing its warmth.
He doesn't feel like talking. He didn't manage to make friends with the others and now can sense hostility from them. He is a vampire. His strength isn’t suppressed by the tadpole and apparently once the vampire's master is dead, spawns become lesser vampires. Astarion doesn't feel the difference, to be honest, but he knows people feel something is off with him.
Well, it doesn't matter. What matters is that he feels good. He has never thought his head might be so clear. He can make a working ambush plan in a blink of an eye and it won't lead to a disaster because he actually can think everything through. He can walk on ceilings and walls again, he regenerates before you manage to notice he is wounded. 
He has the world to explore, places to see, things to do. He is going to make up for all these decades of misery, to bury them under the pile of happy memories.
And he has you.
Probably the weirdest thing that could happen to him.
You, who forgave his lies and manipulations, who gave him the second chance when it was the stupidest thing to do. Who made him believe the world isn’t an evil place. 
You are the first person he sees when returns from his reverie. Your breathing soothes him, so does your heartbeat.
Astarion never had anything. Everything he had a right to was stripped away from him including his own life.
But now he has you.
To hold, to kiss, to talk. 
To travel together, to hunt monsters, to be independent adventurers. You are there to save him from nightmares. And he is there to save you from death.
How could he become so happy?
“I am going to sleep, are you with me or do you want to hunt?” he feels a soft “pat” on his shoulder.
How come he has you?
You are a bit drunk and very sleepy.
“Let’s go to the tent.”
“Good, I got used to sleeping with you by my side.”
Astarion looks around as if ashamed of what he is going to do and, having made sure no one sees you, takes you in his hands bridal-style.
You are weightless to him thanks to the vampiric strength. He could walk many miles carrying you and not getting tired.
In the tent, you get to your bedroll and immediately cover yourself with a thick blanket. Then, you open it a little, inviting Astarion to join.
He takes his clothes off and crawls to your side. The night is warm, so are you. But since you have to share your body heat with him, you sleep under the thickest fur blanket. 
You are his and he is yours. If a year ago someone told him that would be his future he would bitterly laugh.
Astarion presses your back to his chest, placing the chin on your shoulder.
Your muscles relax, the pulse slows down. You are falling asleep in his arms.
"My love, thank you" he whispers in you ear, tugging you closer
“Hm?”
“Thank you for finding me."
You squeeze his hand. “You were worth it.”
He doesn’t want to meditate. He wants to hold you like that until you wake up. Astarion concentrates on your breathing and heartbeat. You are already sound asleep.
“Sleep well, darling,” he kisses your cheek. “We still have plenty of things to do together.” 
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96
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clockwayswrites · 20 days
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green - Part 11
“Robin can’t stay here like that again,” Jason said as he chopped up a cucumber. “If he wants to come back, we need to introduce them properly and Danny needs to be okay with it."
“I know,” Dick sighed. “He’s been getting better but him not listening to B when in cape is a real backslide.”
“That’s not…” Jason made a frustrated noise and put the knife down with a level of care that worried Dick. That worry grew when Jason purposefully stepped back from it to lean against the counter.
“Hood?”
“Kid knew that Robin was here,” Jason said, glaring down the faint leftover ring from a cup of last night’s hot chocolate. “Wing, Danny knew, and he was terrified.”
Dick stilled. He had just thought it was fear or someone else being in the apartment. “How?”
“Smelled him, apparently,” Jason said with a casual shrug that Dick didn’t believe for a moment. “Said that Robin reeked of death.”
“Well, fuck,” Dick said. “The Lazarus Pits?”
“Best as I can figure.”
Best as Jason could figure, but Jason was still bothered by something— something that wasn’t how Damian smelled to Danny.
Dick reached out to still Jason’s hand from where it was picking at the dried ring of coco. “Little wing… what did Danny say?”
It said a lot that Jason didn’t pull away.
“He was terrified because Robin smelled like death but hadn’t died.” Jason looked up to meet Dick’s eyes. A ring of green circled the blue. “He hadn’t died, not like us.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh fuck,” Dick said again. That was the sort of statement that deserved more cussing. He got up and started to pace. “Did you…?”
Jason shook his head. “No. Wasn’t the time, Danny was too freaked out about Robin’s presence. But fuck, Wing, the way he said it… like I should have already known that about him.”
“Like he knows it about you.”
“Yeah. Since he can smell it or sense it or whatever,” Jason said. He ran his hands through his hair, spreading the streak of white throughout the dark locks.
Dick’s eyes stuck on the movement.
“Wing?”
“You’re hair.”
“Who cares if I mess it up—”
“No, J— little wing, your white hair. Danny…” Dick swallowed around the taste of bile. “We know he should have black hair, but it’s all white. Jay, how many times did he die? How many times did they kill him?”
Jason pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, looking ill. “Fuck. Fuck!”
“Okay, it’s okay,” Dick said, immediately regretting upsetting Jason like that. He hated hurting his little brother, but Dick did need someone else on the same page as him. He needed someone else watching out for things. “We’ll get the story when Danny is ready. What matters right now is that he’s here and we’ll keep him safe.”
“We sure as fuck will,” Jason said, a growl rumbling under his voice.
“But we have to wait until he’s ready.”
“Yeah, got you.” Jason leaned back against the wall. His head thumped against it with a sound that made Dick wince.
“But I do think you’ll be the one he talks to,” Dick soothed.
Jason snorted. “Cause the dead stick together.”
“You’re not dead, Jaybird, and neither is Danny.”
“And we’ll keep him safe,” Jason echoed with a sigh.
Dick didn’t have any illusions that Jason’s version of keeping Danny safe wouldn’t include murder if it came to it, but Dick was sure he could play distraction for Bruce, Cass, and Duke if need be. Damian should be kept away too, he had been doing better. Dick groaned and gave in to laying his head down on the counter.
“What horrible thing did you realize now?” Jason asked.
“Just that I’ll need to go see the baby bat. We need to talk about last night and I should just spend more time with him and the other kids.”
“Yeah, that might be good. You should get some damn sleep too before you start trying to subsist on sugar. Don’t think I didn’t see that cereal you had B.B. buy,” Jason chastised.
“I thought Danny might like it!”
“Danny would have a sugar high for three days if he ate a spoonful,” Jason said and went back to chopping up the very healthy cucumber he had.
“Fine, then what are you making?”
“A quick pickle. We’ll have it with feta cheese and couscous. It will be good protein for Danny since we don’t have him eating meat yet,” Jason said.
Dick smiled back. “You know, if you ever get tired of stabbing people with knives, you could just become a personal chef.”
“Why, looking to hire one and solve your horrible eating habits? You should get a maid while you’re at it.”
“Little wing,” Dick whined, clutching at his chest. “That’s so mean! My place is looking great! You’d know that if you ever visited me.”
Jason glanced past Dick and smirked. “Kid, tell Wing he’s a liar.”
“Wing, you’re a liar,” Danny mumbled, the words broken up by a large yawn.
“It’s no fair using Danny against me while he’s still half asleep!” Dick turned away from Jason with a pout and held his arms open.
Looking far from awake, Danny basically stumbled into Dick’s arm. He rested his head against Dick’s shoulder and seemed half ready to fall back asleep right there. Dick didn’t even try to hold back a coo.
Jason snorted. “Yeah, you’re really suffering over there.”
Dick stuck his tongue at Jason before deciding to focus on his littler, cuter brother. He ran his hands through Danny’s hair, trying hard not to think about the color. “Did you have a good nap?”
Danny shrugged. “Mostly.”
“Yeah? And what does mostly mean in this case?” Dick asked.
“Just… I don’t know. Didn’t dream, not really, but sorta felt like I was close to dreaming.”
“I guess you don’t want to dream?”
“Don’t think they’ll be good,” Danny admitted, softly.
“Well, Dandelion,” Dick said, putting as much cheer into his words as he could, “if that happens you come find me or Hood or whoever’s here. Cuddling is always a good cure for nightmares and if that doesn’t work, hot chocolate is even better.”
When Danny didn’t respond, even nonverbally, Dick gave him a little poke in the side which made Danny squeak and squirm a little.
“Tell me what you’ve got rattling around in that brain of yours,” Dick prompted.
Danny heaved a sigh as he pulled away and sat on the stool next to Dick. He kept his eyes downcast, focused on the rather frayed cuff of the hoodie he had taken to almost constantly wearing. “I don’t want wake anyone else up if they’re sleeping. I know you guys haven’t been getting enough rest because of me…”
“Less than we’d like, maybe,” Jason said casually and Dick shot him a glare. They were supposed to be reassuring Danny!
“But,” Jason continued, “we’re fine with that if it means helping you get well. Besides, we’ll get B.B. over here maybe tomorrow and the big blue bird here can go check on the rest of his life for a bit.”
“But only if you’re okay with her being here,” Dick added.
“I don’t want to… you all have done so much for me already. Of course you can go deal with other things. It’s… you don’t have to pay attention to me.”
“Hey, Danny.” Dick reached out, clearly telegraphing his motions so that Danny could pull away if he wanted. When Danny didn’t even twitch, Dick rested his hand over Danny’s. “We want to. I promise you, we want to make sure you’re well and that you heal. We’ll be here the whole time until you’re ready to talk to Bruce.”
“Hell, we’ll be here after,” Jason said. “Gotham is our city, we’re not going anywhere. We’ll still be around if you need us, even if it’s just to be around us.”
Danny glanced up at at Jason with such blatant hope showing through from where it was shuttered behind hard learned lessons and a horrible life. Dick’s heart just about broke.
“Really?” It wasn’t more than a whisper that Danny asked, but it carried so much weight.
“Really,” Jason said with a shrug and that devil may care confidence that only he could manage.
“Really,” Dick added, trying to put as much care and love that he already felt for his new little brother into the word.
Danny glanced down again, but instead of going back to picking at the hem, he twisted his hand to wrap his fingers up with Dick’s.
“I… thank you. That’s… I don’t know why you all care so much when—” Danny cut himself off sharply, biting his lip so hard that Dick was worried that it would bleed.
Dick just squeezed his hand.
“Anyways,” Danny continued after a few shuddering breaths, “it means a lot, thank you.”
“Always,” Dick swore. This was their brother.
-
Damian’s brother was being annoying again.
This was hardly unusual.
“Grayson, do stop lurking like that. It is unbecoming.”
“I wasn’t lurking baby bat!” Grayson said, bouncing forward like some sort of overly cheerful ungulate.
“Tt.”
“I wasn’t! I was being polite and waiting for you to be done with your kata,” Grayson protested with a pout. “If I was being rude I would have just swept in and scooped you up.”
Damian took a step back. “Grayson, no.”
“No what?” he asked, his eyes impossibly wide and innocent.
It was best to leave, Damian decided.
Unfortunately Grayson was actually far more wolf that sheep and he pursued Damian. They tore around the Cave. Damian attempted to use his smaller stature to be able to slip through spots that should be impossible for Grayson to follow him through, but that hardly stopped his brother. What little speed Damian might have gained from his pathing was well made up for Grayson being larger and, as reluctant as Damian was to admit it, better at free running.
“There’s my baby bat!” Grayson cooed as he held Damian close after catching him.
Damian let his arms and legs dangle listlessly. He had learned that Grayson was annoying resistant to nerve strikes and that it was sometimes better to simple accept the… cuddling.
“My bitty bat! Baby bat! Bladed bloody bat!”
Damian sighed.
“We are going to go out!” Grayson said, hauling Damian towards the lift. “I found a shelter that needs some help socializing a whole bunch of cats taken from a hording situation so we’ll pick up a big food donation and head over. Afterwards, we can get falafel from that place on 8th and ice cream from a new place right down the street!”
That… didn’t sound too poor of a day, really.
“I suppose that the cats will have a better chance to be adopted if socialized quickly,” Damian said, haughtily. He couldn’t simply let Grayson know how appealing the idea was.
“Right? And you’re the best person I know for it,” Grayson said. Thankfully he set Damian down once they were in the lift and moving up towards the manor.
Damian stared at the rock on the the other side of the cage. “And… you do not need to go back to the safe house today?”
“Nope!” Grayson chirped. “I’m even going to stay at the manor tonight.”
“That is acceptable. You have informed Pennyworth?”
“Of course baby bat.”
“Very good,” Damian said. They fell into silence as they moved fully into the manor. Damian made his way for the stairs to go up and shower, but paused at the bottom. “Grayson?”
“Yeah, Dami?”
“He was afraid of me.”
Damian was thankful Grayson was astute enough not to ask who.
“He could sense you, it seems,” Grayson said. He walked over and leaned against the railing of the stairs. “Think of it from his point of view. He was asleep in what he had been told was a secure location and woke up to someone else being there. He didn’t know who, or what, you were. I’m sure you’d go on the offensive right away to find out who it was. Danny though… we know he’s been through a lot and I don’t think fighting back was an option for him.”
Damian thought back to the scars that had covered the other’s body in the first pictures. He frowned down at the steps. “Yes.”
“Right, so for him, he needed to find out who you were, just like you would, but he was scared instead of aggressive.”
“Which is why he hid behind Todd.” Damian had barely been able to catch sight of this ‘Danny’.
“Yep. Jason was one of the people who got him somewhere safe, so he trusts Jason to at least try to keep him safe. I’m sure Jay reassured him that was likely you before they came to check.”
Damian snorted.
“Hey, give Jason some credit, he knows his security stuff. He only pretends to still be bad at cellphones so he has a reason not to call.”
“Tt.”
“Don’t worry, baby bat, I’ll talk to Danny about having you come over again when everyone knows to expect you,” Grayson said with a gentleness that annoyed Damian.
“I never said I wished to go back over.”
“No?”
“No. But,” Damian said, stressing the next part, “if it is something everyone in the family is doing, then I will put up with the chore.”
“Thank you, Dami,” Grayson said. “Babs is next and then we’ll see about you! Now go change so that we can get to the shelter.”
“What exactly do you think I was doing,” Damian snapped and headed up the stairs with his head held high and a flutter of worry in his chest that he was pretending didn’t exist.
---
AN: Aaaah it was good to get back to writing this! This was my first time writing Damian's POV and he was an unexpected delight to write! His part got done very quickly. We'll have Babs up soon and Steph will need to bully her way in I'm sure. Bruce is pouting in front of the Batcomputer I'm sure, waiting for his turn to meet his son.
Anyways, stay delightful darlings!
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just-jordie-things · 7 months
Note
Hey ! Was wondering if you’re taking hc/blurbs could you do jjk boys with a clingy GF? We always see them being clingy but they deserve someone to love them and be clingy too 💖🤞🏻 (Megumi, Yuji, Gojo, Inumaki, Yuta) If that’s okay???
a/n: YES as a clingy gf myself i am kissing this ask thru my laptop screen :3 ___
GOJO SATORU
... have fun trying to out-cling the Cling King. spoiler alert you will NEVER outdo the do-er. but satoru is so glad to have a crazy clingy gf. it's important to him to know you love him just as much as he loves you, and that you don't mind showing him. whether it's spamming his phone with texts or memes that made you think of him, or koala-ing yourself around him to keep him from getting out of bed in the morning, satoru is so content to see you at your clingiest. that soft spot that he has for you grows a little more each time you tell him to quit jujutsu and stay here with me forever. and each time you do, he considers it just a little longer than the last.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
... is shocked by your clinginess. hell, he was amazed you ever agreed to go out with him. but now you're so in love with him that you come across a little obsessed? him? for a while it makes him a bit bashful, even more so when other people are around. the few times you'd jumped into his arms or planted a kiss on his face around his friends made him red. not that he was mad- no of course not. that sort of treatment is just so new to him he never knew how to take it. he's not the greatest at returning the affection, he's a shy boy after all. but you don't mind. seeing him blush and stammer out how he missed you too (even though you'd only been apart for an hour) was all the confirmation you needed to know that he returned your love.
ITADORI YUUJI
... omg he loves your clinginess so much. please text him you miss him two minutes after he leaves the room. please call him because you're bored even though you have nothing to talk about. please wrap your body around his so tight that he could mistake your cuddles as an attempt to crawl right into his skin. he swoons every time you show off your clingy side. from the pout on your face when he leaves to the overexcited joy when he returns. yuuji never has to question how much love you have for him. and the clingier you get, the more he'll mirror the behavior, and now you're both the most lovesick fools in the world.
OKKOTSU YUUTA
... is so used to your clinginess that he doesn't think twice about it anymore. he's sitting on the couch and you walk in the room? he's moving his book off his lap so you can crawl into it and cuddle him while he continues reading, barely batting an eye as he murmurs a gentle "hi baby" while you wrap yourself around him. you find him while he's cooking? he's maneuvering his arms before you wrap yours around him to snuggle into his broad shoulders, just to be sure you don't bump into the hot contents on the stove. there's a domesticity of it all. he's so used to it that he will maneuver his position in his sleep to accommodate to the way you want to cuddle him. you roll over after spooning for too long and you need to switch sides? he's unconsciously sliding onto his back so you can lay on top of his chest. and he will never complain for a second. he wouldn't have it any other way, he just loves having you close to him.
INUMAKI TOGE
... there's not a limit to how clingy you could be to him. a lot of your relationship relies on physical touch, quality time, and acts of service. so whenever you're spamming his phone, or following him around to help him clean his room, or wrapping yourself around his arm as you wander the shopping district for date night, toge's over the moon. he hates when he doubts your feelings for him, but sometimes he gets a little insecure. so the more you throw yourself at him, the more elated he feels. one time you ran at him and hugged him so hard after he'd come back from a mission that you both fell down. he won't lie, it hurt a bit, but no one could've known, not with how much he laughed while you nuzzled into him and proclaimed how much you'd missed him in front of all your friends. you're his everything, and while he may struggle to tell you, you both have an unspoken clinginess to one another that was undeniable.
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infictionalwonderland · 8 months
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the big bad birthday — h.lewis
SUMMARY, it’s your birthday and amidst the wholesome birthday posts, everyone’s entertainment comes from the chaotic and completely drunk off your tits content!
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liked by yourusername, gkbarry and 234,680 others
faithlouisak, to the girl of my dreams, my sugar plum baddie pookie boo bear, the big spoon to my little spoon, the sugar in my tea, the absolute fittest fucking person on this planet with the best tits ive ever seen (soz wroetoshaw). HAPPY BIRTHDAY OMG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I CANNOT WAIT TO SPEND EVERY FUCKING BIRTHDAY WITH YOU UNTIL WERE BOTH CRIPPLED AND ROLLING ABOUT IN OUR WHEELCHAIRS IN ALL THE SKATE PARKS LIKE THE COOL KIDS WE ARE XOXOXOXO tagged—@yourusername
view all 23,506 comments yourusername FAITH STOP IT.
yourusername I LOVE YOU SO BLOODY MUCH MY HEART IS LITERALLY ACHING AND UGH YOURE JUST MY FAVOURITE PERSON EVER COME KISS ME
-> faithlouisak don’t have to feckin ask me twice sexy bum
-> behzingagram @wroetoshaw
-> yourusername YO YO YO FAITH UR BOYFS TRYING TO HATE CRIME US?????!!!?????
-> faithlouisak AHHH HOMOPHOBE
bambinobecky the cake is so true 😋😋😋😋😋😋
mrskelly THE PHOTOS OF THEM I CANNOT THEYRE ACTUALLY SO CUTE BRO! THEIR FRIENDSHIP MAKES ME SO HAPPY 💕💕
mummy_behz wishing the beautiful beautiful birthday girl all the best! 💐💐
-> yourusername thank you so much ruth 💝
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liked by max_balegde,miniminter and 311,289 others
taliamar LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WILL YOU PLEASE STAND BC IT IS THE FUCKING BIRTHDAY OF MY LOVVERR! yn i love you so much i genuinely cannot put it into words (can put it into our songs tho xx) you’re the most amazing person that i have ever met, you make me laugh all the time, you keep a smile on my face always, your energy alone is enough to make me feel all bubbly and giddy inside. with you, i feel safe and happy and loved and i feel like im a little kid again and i can conquer the world. you’re truly the very epitome of perfection, lover 😉 tagged—@yourusername
view all 30,561 comments ksi bro harry’s birthday post better be outta this world 😭
-> tobjizzle honestly, he’s got hella competition
yourusername STOP IT TALIA YOURE SO CUTE AND I ADORE YOU WITH MY WHOLE HEART, YOU HAVE NO IDEA. YOU MAKE ME SO HAPPY AND YOU DESERVE THE ENTIRE WORLD BABY. MWAH!
-> taliamar stop i shouldn’t be crying it’s YOUR birthday
-> miniminter and she’s crying now. @wroetoshaw ?
-> wroetoshaw balling mate
gkbarry birthday lass looks so hot drenched in rain xxxx
-> yourusername eat me out 😘😘😘😘
-> gkbarry 🍽️🍽️🍽️🍽️
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liked by zerkaa, taliamar and 211,597 others
freyanightingale YN YN YN! from the day that i met you i was amazed by you, by your beauty, your kindness, your wit and your literal intelligence - to this day, that amazement has only increased and i know that as i stay by your side until the day we both die in our cute little hospital gowns in our hospital beds with rooms next to each other, i will die still being amazed by you and your very being. i love you so much and you deserve the universe, and even more. HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BEAUTIFUL SOUL 💕💕
p.s yes i am lying on her arse in the 8th slide it was a true life experience tagged—@yourusername
view all 16,993 comments zerkaa i feel cheated on
-> freyanightingale cry about it
-> taliamar literally no one cares
-> faithlouisak omg piss off u HOBO
-> tobjizzle flabbergasted.
yourusername FREYA!!!!!!! BRO IM ACTUALLY GONNA HAVE NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY, luv u ari, AFTER ALL THESE MESSAGES AND YOU BET YOUR FAT ASS WE’RE GONNA HAVE HOSPTIAL BEDS NEXT TO ONE ANOTHER???? WE CAN WEAR OUR MATCHING HARRY POTTER SOCK SETS AND GET MATCHING ACRYLICS XXX
-> freyanightingale you’re my favourite person ever xx
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liked by yungfully, chunkz and 501,590 others
nellarosee happy birthday to the most stunning, happy, loving, genuine, funny & gorgeous gorgeous girl that i have ever known, you are truly one of a kind my girl! tagged—@yourusername
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liked by georgeclarkeey, chloeburrows and 298,126 others
gkbarry dear sexiest bitch in the entirety of europe, wishing you the best birthday there ever was. we need more people like your fantastical self in the world, cheers for sticking around this long 😘😘😘😘😘
p.s come to mine later, wear ur red set 👅 tagged—@yourusername
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liked by yourusername, tobjizzle and 58,330 others
r0sielewis happy birthday to the best girl i’ve ever known, the first genuine friend i have ever made and who i know will always be there for the rest of my life! happy birthday to my role model, my makeup artist, my hair stylist, my therapist, my personal stylist - happy birthday to my everything. i love you so much yn, i hope you know that! all of us lewis’ do (especially mum.. & harry ig) 🤍🤍 tagged—@yourusername
LATER. . .
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tobjizzle has posted to their story!
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celluloidbroomcloset · 4 months
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Stede's memory of the "you wear fine things well" moment is also so goddamn moving. First, because we know what it meant to Ed - how the red silk was a connection to his mother, to the fine things he wanted and thought he could never have because they weren't for "people like us." Stede just reaching out to him in that moment, without knowing or needing to know all the layers of meaning behind "fine things," touching him just briefly after he had once again been rejected and mocked by that world, is certainly one of the things that made Ed fall in love with him.
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Nothing that Stede does is condescending; the entire episode, he tries to lend Ed support and teach him what he knows and warn him about the people he's meeting, but it's never to control him or to "educate" him or to say that Ed's inferior in some way because he doesn't know what a snail fork is. Stede himself thinks that world is terrible, and that spoons are stupid, but he goes anyway because Ed wants to. And then he's there to hoist the aristocrats with their own petard, because they were dicks and they deserved it. It means so much to Ed to have someone - anyone, but especially someone from that world - stand up for him.
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But that memory says that it meant something to Stede too. He doesn't recall anything that happened on the ship, but he does recall putting the handkerchief in Ed's pocket and what he said. Nor does he recall that Ed smiled at him, or the little explosion of breath that we see in the original episode. So what made this memorable for Stede? Because he was falling in love too. He didn't, and still doesn't, know what it meant to Ed. He doesn't remember the smile because he didn't know the smile was for him, the breath was for him, Ed was falling in love with him. He just remembers falling in love with Ed, and it's something he remembers lying on the deck of Zheng's ship with tears in his eyes. He's the one that sighs.
Which makes that second "you wear fine things well" even more powerful. It is Ed remembering what that moment on deck meant to him, and it's Stede learning, maybe for the first time, that Ed was feeling the same thing he was. That the smile was for him. The sigh was for him. That love was reciprocated, even though neither of them knew it at the time. And the second time that line is spoken, it has so much meaning for them both.
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madschiavelique · 8 months
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hi can we get some fluff drabble with girl reader + miguel where he finds himself unexpectedly enjoying being a small spoon but rather die than accept it. if you want you can turn it into a soft smut where he is a whimpering mess because she jerks him off from behind while massaging his chest and leaving small kisses across his neck and back
THIS IS ADORABLE ANON AAAAA
i loved writing this (i might relate a bit too much to miguel in some paragraphs of this fvdsbjsqdhfds)
summary : miguel enjoys being a little spoon (not proofread)
content warnings : fluff at the beginning that turns into SMUT (18+) minors dni, handjob, praise, miguel is so horny for your touch omg, no use of y/n, fem!reader word count : 1,6k
tag list : @fandom-ash
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As on many evenings, Miguel had come home late. His professional commitments meant that your life and his could sometimes be out of sync. He was exhausted, and gently laid down on the bed without waking you, lying beside you and kissing your forehead.
He laid down against you, acting like the big spoon as he drew you closer to him in his embrace. Coming back to his flats every evening and finding you there, in bed, all peaceful, was the ray of sunshine that caressed his heart after his day. He closed his eyes, surrendering against you as he drifted off to sleep.
It was only a few hours later that he woke up, his eyes had opened on their own and he had no idea why. Perhaps he was having insomnia? That would be the crowning glory of his exhausting day. Even in his sleep, didn't he deserve a little respite?
Then he wondered if perhaps this awakening was due to his Spidersenses being alerted by something. And that's when he felt it, that pressure against his back, the sensation of something around his waist.
You were pressed against his bare back, your steady, even breath landing tenderly on the back of his neck as your hand rested on his stomach, close to his navel.
He was almost tense, completely alienated by this kind of intimacy, but he was slowly trying to relax, to simply enjoy the feel of your body pressed against his.
He was used to being the one who was the big spoon, the one who protected, who formed a shell of his whole body to protect those he loved. He'd already lost so much, so he couldn't afford to lose you, and that translated into many actions, which of course included being the big spoon.
And the back is a sign of vulnerability. Showing someone your back was proof that you trusted them enough to let them have free rein without fearing that you'd be stabbed in the back.
But he felt so... good, he felt safe, like this, in your gentle arms. In fact, he felt that he could be vulnerable, and that little feeling that he could never admit aloud was starting to grow stronger and stronger in his veins:
It felt like he was taken care of, and he liked it.
Why was it so hard for him to admit that he liked, no, wanted to be taken care of? He was always the one who took care of others, not the other way round, but he couldn't help sighing softly. He was comforted by the touch of your skin against his, by your unconscious embrace of him.
You shifted gently in your sleep, your hand accidentally touching a little lower than his navel, on his groin, just a few centimetres away. His breath became a little shakier, the sensation making him quiver and boil at the same time.
You breathed in deep suddenly, as all sleepy people do from time to time, and what he felt gave him the impression of melting: as you breathed out, he felt your breasts pressing against his back.
Now it was going to be difficult to keep his composure. Every breath you took let him feel your breasts on his back, even if they were covered. He swallowed, trying to concentrate on not...
But it was too late, he was starting to feel himself getting hard, his erection rising little by little.
He mentally insulted himself as your hand, with every breath you took, constantly brushed against his skin. Shit, he was getting way too horny. Your breath on his neck, the feel of your body against his, his hand so close and yet so far away.
He let out a little moan as your head moved close to the back of his neck. He had to do something, move perhaps, get out of the embrace, but he didn't want to move away from this sweetness that was being given to him.
He moved a little, just to get your hand away from him and save him from further torment.
"Babe?" your slightly sleepy voice froze him in place, "are you all right?"
Damn, with all his emotions he'd woken you up.
"Nothing's wrong nena, go back to sleep," he whispered, his breath coming in fairly ragged gasps all the same, trying to relax and breathe normally.
You moved slightly, raising yourself gently and accidentally letting your hand rest a little more against his skin, the sudden change from brushing against his lower belly to touching it immediately drew a groan from his throat.
You frowned, waking up a little more.
"Are you sure you're okay ? You seem all so tense..." you asked as you straightened your face until your lips brushed his jaw.
His breath trembled, his back arching.
"Mhm, everything's alright," he said, trying to contain himself even though the urge was growing, "go back to-"
"Miguel," you asked simply, your tone astonished, "are you... hard?"
He bit his lip, his nose wrinkling as he tried to concentrate. But all the sensations you were giving him were preventing him from staying still. He felt almost guilty that he couldn't contain himself, that he was simply being aroused by the mere gesture of you hugging him from the back.
"It's okay," he swallowed, softly, "go back to sleep, it's fine."
He didn't want to disturb you, and he felt guilty that just by you spooning him you'd managed to turn him on.
"You had wet dreams?" you murmured softly, starting to feel more and more awake and aware of the situation.
If only that was all it was, but no, it was completely and utterly you. Your simple touch, your breath, your body, everything.
He hesitated, was admitting that the reason he was horny had simply been the fact that he was the little spoon? Or was he going to make up a trifle? He couldn't even admit to himself that he was immensely affected by your embrace, without it even becoming erotic.
You gently kissed the corner of his jaw, pressing yourself against him.
"What is it," you said, your breath catching on his cheek as he sighed, "hmm?
Your hand drifted down to his erection at last, caressing him with your fingertips, his back arching as he let out a sigh of relief.
"You're so hard..." you remarked softly, whispering against his ear as you placed little pecks on the back of his neck, "I wonder what got you so turned on..."
If only you knew... Your fingers skimmed the length of it, letting the fingertips run down to his balls, caressing them gently. Miguel breathed in deeply, his lips parted.
Your fingers wrapped around him, snaking around his head, letting your thumb make circular movements as the little drops of pre-cum glistened on his tip.
"Would you look at that, so horny..." you mumbled as your other hand slid down his back, tracing the line of his spine as you kissed his shoulder blades.
He let himself be touched, the sensation of your hand slowly and softly pumping his cock as you let your lips and fingers travel up and down his back felt so good it was like he was dreaming.
The warmth of your body, your voice, your presence alone and everything you brought him completed his sensations until they took him to paradise.
You were taking care of him, and he loved it.
He swallowed, the moans multiplying in his voice as you kissed his back.
Your hand took on a slightly faster rhythm, putting slightly more pressure into your stroking when coming back up his head, spending more time just underneath his crown tracing sinuous patterns, his voice trembling as you twisted your wrist while jerking him off.
"Does that feel good?" you asked, kissing his ear, nipping lightly at his lobe as a dark growl rose from his throat.
All those kisses, all those touches, he wouldn't last long.
"Mhm," he nodded, his voice quavering, "increíble, nena."
His hips began to move of their own accord, one of his hands coming to rest on your hip to pull you closer to him. He wanted to eliminate any space that separated his back from your torso, intoxicated by the physical sensations, the exceptional feeling he had in his lower back.
Your kisses were tender, your words sweet, your hand taking him perfectly and touching him wonderfully in all the right places. He felt himself melting under your touch, the friction you were giving him so perfect that he could already feel himself coming.
"So good, muñeca," he breathed, his hips accelerating, his pelvis undulating to fuck your hand, "so good..."
His breath quickened, and with a loud groan, he came, spurting over your hand. His hips jerked as you gently slowed the pace, tenderly caressing his hard skin as you kissed his neck, murmuring tender words.
He turned to lie on his back, watching you. He came over to kiss you, almost as a thank you, but mainly because you'd just given him such wonderful sensations.
You brought your hand to your lips, licking them gently.
"I wonder what made you so hard," you said in a murmur, coming back to place your head on his torso.
You had eventually understood the reason for his arousal and globally his delight, and from then on, as soon as you were both in bed, you would take him in your arms like a good little spoon against you. Because he had shown you how vulnerable he was, and because he too had the right to know that there was someone there who cared about him and would protect him at all costs.
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kamaluhkhan · 2 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)
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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
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(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.
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