#YOURE the reason i love the feeling of coming back to camp
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Haunted by what is forever told on our skin
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • When the group found the prison, no one expected the past to come and haunt us all even if they don’t understand until life is re-written • ANGST/SFW • TW: PTSD / Past Abuse / Domestic Violence / Scars / Injuries / Past Attempt Mentioned / SH Scars
Requested by: Anon
“We found a place that we can make into our new home” Rick started. “We obviously need to fix a few things for the immediate future. But it’s got good walls”
“What is it?”
“It’s a prison, which I know sounds unsettling at first but once we take care of the walkers…it’s pretty golden” Rick finished and went to check on his family while the others started to pack up the vehicles knowing they will be leaving once he’s ready.
Daryl noticed Y/N stand still for a really long time for unknown reasons that started to concern him. But when she noticed him looking at her, she quickly picked up her pack and went to join Glenn and Maggie.
Odd…
They weren’t going to tackle the main prison just yet given the time of day. All they did was take out the walkers in the yard and get their cars within the gates before making camp for the night.
Y/N watched Carol go over to Daryl to give him what accounts for dinner with what they’ve got before turning her attention back toward the prison. This time catching the attention of someone more curious and willing to speak up.
“Have you been here before?” Beth questions Y/N, snapping her out of her thoughts as she gave her a concerned look.
“Like what, a prisoner?”
“No, just. Well yes and no”
“Not as a prisoner…more like. Visiting…loved ones…” Y/N frowns squeezing her hands together to avoid an anxious harmful habit that she knew she wouldn’t be able to do in front of them anyway.
“You think we killed them?” Glenn suddenly blurts as Maggie smacks him in the arm. “What? You’re telling me people survived the outbreak in that prison?”
“Don’t mean you have to ask somethin’ like that when you don’t know the rel—-“
“I haven’t…seen him in years. He could’ve been released or…executed for all I know. Only have seen him twice and the second time wasn’t…pretty” Y/N got up from the group, going to take a walk and clear her head on the matter. All while Maggie lectured Glenn about pushing boundaries.
When Daryl came back to the group with Carol, he noticed her absence immediately but as he scanned the surrounding area for her…he watches Rick make his way over to her given he hasn’t stopped walking the perimeter since they’ve gotten inside.
Y/N stared at a walker gnawing at the fence from the other end trying to reach for her. She stepped closer to the fence rolling her sleeve up and testing fate when the voice in her head told her to stop, as well as the voice behind her.
“What’s wrong” Rick asked with a concern look on his face when she turned toward him. With the light from his flashlight he noticed the scars that littered her arms making her instantly cover them. He knows as a cop not to trigger the situation further, even if most cops tend to do that anyway. But he’s not like most. “You want to scout with me? Don’t have to be in the mess of people for a moment”
“Mess of people?” Y/N laughs slightly. “You know you’re including your wife and son in that mix”
“I do…” Rick frowns, now walking with Y/N around the place. “Honestly we’ve all done something stupid and yet I’m paying for it the most given the silence I’m receiving from Lori”
“…You know, don’t you?”
Rick didn’t utter another word but gave her a look that confirmed it all.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner”
“Well, I still don’t know you. Not a stranger. But still not enough to share something like that” Rick shrugs. “I’m not mad at you”
“Right…still. I feel bad. No one should have to deal with that. End of the world or before”
Something about what she said only drew the concern to a higher level. Rick gestured with his head to return to the rest of the group and as he went to sit with his family, Y/N went to sit alone outside of the group facing away from them. The only time she was addressed was when T-Dog dragged a blanket over her shoulders, the flinch that came from her caught Daryl’s attention even more.
When the morning came, which meant time to progress inside the prison grounds…they were careful taking out the walkers in the courtyard before taking the risk of entering the building. Rick, Daryl, T-Dog, Maggie, and Y/N took care of being the first to sweep the cellblock they entered. Taking out the few walkers they came across, including seeing a few prisoners that have met their fate to the undead or found a quick way out of the mess before they met that end.
Y/N lingered too close to a locked cell on the second story not seeing anything immediately until the walker forced itself against the bars causing her to stumble back.
Rick quickly came over taking the walker out as Daryl brought himself to her checking her person.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah. Uh…yeah” Y/N frowns stepping past him returning to the first floor to help Maggie in any way.
The group started to make home of the cell block for now and will progress further into the place in a bit. Just for now they were taking a break. While others claimed cells as their new “rooms”, Daryl took the catwalk not liking the idea of living in a cell and he wasn’t the only one to think such.
“Need help?” Glenn asks Y/N if she needed a hand pulling the mattress out of the cell and into the main walk way on the first floor.
“Oh uh. Yeah sure” She frowns letting Glenn help her move the mattress and before he left, he quickly grabbed one of their many blankets handing it to her. “Thanks…”
“Of course” Glenn smiles leaving to check on Maggie and her family.
Daryl leans against the railing watching Y/N sit on the mattress bringing her knees to her chest and hide her face. Her whole body tensed and hasn’t relaxed since they’ve entered the prison.
The group hasn’t relaxed like this since the farm and they were getting used to the temporary quiet.
The next morning a few took inventory of the gear they’ve found in the prison, then came to the decision of checking the rest of the prison. The men plus Maggie and Y/N. Daryl took lead while the rest followed through the darker parts of the prison.
Maggie getting spooked by Glenn after he marked the direction they came from only stressed the others and Y/N did her best not to scream as a trigger response to hers.
Then it became a game with the walkers coming from every direction, even where they came from. Resulting in being separated from Maggie and Glenn. But when Hershel retraced his steps, he unfortunately gotten bit. A bit of scrambling resulted in T-Dog and Y/N holding the doors to their only entrance and exit while the others held down Hershel so that Rick can cut off the infected part of his leg.
But it wasn’t long for them to realize they weren’t alone.
Y/N felt as if she was struck down with the realization that she recognized one of the prisoners that Daryl and T-Dog were currently holding their stand with.
“We gotta go!” Rick shouted resulting in Y/N pulling away from the door ignoring who she had just saw and helped Glenn with holding the makeshift gurney to get Hershel on.
Everything seem to escalate while a good chuck of their own focused on Hershel then Daryl took liberty with T-Dog to keep the prisoners in check until Rick came to break the news about the reality the prisoners are now living in.
It wasn’t until they stepped outside to see for themselves when Tomas, the one with the gun, turned to the three with one question that led to a million internal ones.
“The woman with yea, where the hell you find her?”
T-Dog gave Daryl a questioning look as to who he’s referring to. Maggie or Y/N. Because they were the only women they saw.
“Who are you talking about?” Rick questions keeping his hand hovered over his gun. Tomas took note of such and decided to drop it.
Meanwhile inside the prison the chaos died slightly, all they could really do is keep an eye on Hershel and check his dressings. Y/N stood by the cell with Glenn to keep an eye on him in case you know what happens, orders by Rick of course. Glenn couldn’t help but get more anxious just from being in Y/N’s vicinity.
“What’s wrong?” He whispers to avoid alerting the rest. “Do you think he’s—-“
“It’s not about Hershel. Don’t…worry about it”
“How can I not when we just learned we’re not alone in here? What do you think the prisoners have done to get in this place?”
Y/N clenched her fists trying to fight back the anxiety induced tears or more so the PTSD she’s trying to avoid reliving but the sheer knowledge alone of him alive was driving her insane. Carol from the corner of her eye couldn’t help but have concerns for her because she understands.
________
“It’s…not the best, Sophia. But at least we’ll be safe until he calms down…” Carol reassures her daughter as they were directed into a room they were gonna have to share given how many people the facility has in that moment.
The woman on the other side of the room hugging her knees to her chest avoiding looking at them when they entered. She had just arrived there for the first time and wasn’t used to how many people. Granted the amount of people only made her feel worse that so many in her shoes need to find this escape instead of leaving the relationship they were in.
“Hello” Carol started, letting Sophia get comfortable on the bed as she hesitantly approaches. “I’m Carol. This is Sophia, my daughter” she frowns watching tears roll off her cheeks. “I guess we’ll be roommates for a while. We won’t make a fuss—-“
“You’ve been here before…the way you’re talking…you’ve been here before”
“Unfortunately” Carol frowns watching the woman finally face her to notice the swollen black eye and her wrist in a cast. “You’re new aren’t you?”
“…Unfortunately” She scoffs. “I should’ve known…sooner…before the cops got involved”
Carol brought herself to sit on the bed with her giving her a look asking for permission to rest a reassuring hand on her knee which she granted.
“We like to believe that they will get better. Some just. Go too far and need the intervention…”
The woman frowns only nodding to her words as she held herself close again feeling her hand slip away.
“Do you have a name?”
“It’s—-“
________
“Y/N” Carol frowns finally having a moment away from the mess, being handed a towel from her because of the blood all over her person. “Y/N are you alright?” She whispers to keep this conversation between themselves but all Y/N could do was show discomfort in her expression and try not to let the tears fall.
“We can’t let them stay here. They aren’t good people. He’s not a good person” Y/N wanted to let go but they were soon interrupted by Rick.
“Y/N I need your assistance with clearing a cellblock for the prisoners”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Carol questioned immediately and for her.
“We’ll kill them if they go too far but for now. We made the deal so we can get half of their supplies. We need to hold a front for a short while longer or until they’ve proven—-“
“Rick” T-Dog calls for him outside their block as he nods indicating they’re on their way.
“I’m sorry. I need Y/N. Glenn is watching Hershel and Maggie is out of commission for now. I need a good fighter and she’s one of them” Rick states, taking Y/N’s arm only for her to shove him off before walking toward T-Dog. The smallest action made Carol smack him in the harm.
“You push her and you won’t hear the end of it” Carol threatened before returning to Hershel’s aid as that left more suspicion with Rick.
When they started to go over the plan with the prisoners, Tomas instantly locked onto Y/N who made herself known finally.
“Baby—You’re alive” Tomas declared about to make his way over to Y/N when Rick stopped him. Daryl instantly looked at her as the tension and anxiety from her all made sense when they arrived. “What? There’s no prison laws anymore. I don’t have to wait for visiting hours to see my girl”
“She’s here to help. Not rekindle anything from the before” Rick stated pushing him back as that only angered the man but before he could even retaliate, Y/N quickly pulled Rick back blocking the way resulting in hesitation from Tomas.
“Just listen to him Tomas” Y/N struggled to keep a steady speech but the way he relaxed and nodded. This was only going to put her in a position that Rick will hate himself for later. Hell, the hate will come from more than him.
As Y/N steps back she felt Daryl’s gently tap her arm indicating for her to stand with him. Which she did. Tomas had her attention all on her while Rick explained how they are going to handle the walkers.
As the group watched the prisoners take out a handful of walkers in their own creative way. Daryl turned to Y/N watching her struggle to get a deep breath in given being in the same room as the man who hurt her was only making her suffocate.
“Hey…take a breath. C’mon” Daryl whispers keeping his attention on her, lifting his hand and lowering it then repeating to show he’s trying to get her to follow the breathing pattern. “There. You’ve got it…I’ve gotcha”
When they were alone in a room for a more controlled way of taking out the walkers, Tomas brought himself close to Y/N but enough for her to hear him given Daryl was hovering.
“Miss me?” He smirks watching her step away. “Aww come on baby. I’ve been good. I was going to get out in good behavior if the world didn’t end”
“Oh yeah, which guard did you bribe into helping—-ow!” Oscar snapped as Tomas smacked him in the arm.
“I have a restraining order. You wouldn’t—-“
“Baby girl. You’re right here. Right now. It’s the end of the world and the laws don’t apply—-“
“Focus” Rick snaps and then one of the prisoners got scratched right when the wave calmed down.
The other prisoners were trying to argue in saving their friend but right as the arguing got to a point, Tomas suddenly took the crowbar he had to killed the prisoner. The action put Y/N in a frozen state of mind as she tried to get herself out of there but she wasn’t moving. Then when Tomas decided to put all his anger toward the prisoner when he really wanted it toward another, Daryl forced Y/N to look away but she wouldn’t move so he blocked her view.
“You see the look on his face?” Daryl asked Rick as they hung in the back covering Y/N from Tomas who was in front of them.
“He makes one move…”
“Just give me a signal” Daryl stated as they all entered the laundry room from the looks of it.
One door.
One door was what Rick told Tomas to open.
…
Everything just has to go to shit huh?
Tomas tossed the walker at Rick directly and while he did and the others took care of the rest. He instantly went for Y/N. He heard the two of them talking and it doesn’t take a genius to understand that one wrong move and he’ll get killed in the process.
“No—No no” Y/N instantly thrashed against his grip only for Tomas to pull her into him wrapping his arm around her front but have his hand on her throat. “Please——“
“I tried to be buddy buddy for this pig bastard. But I know the only reason I’m in here in the first place is because of you” Tomas whispered angrily, tightening his hand around her throat.
“Let go of her” Daryl snapped readying his crossbow but before he fired, Rick stopped him as the gun Tomas had pressed itself against her throat.
“Lower it or I won’t hesitate” Tomas threats putting his finger on the trigger as Y/N couldn’t help the tears in that moment. “I know you’re just going to kill us the second you have a chance because of what we were in the past—“
“Right now you’re just provin’ you haven’t changed” Rick stated keeping his attention on Tomas as well as Daryl but he also took note of how Y/N was doing and by her body language, she wants this to be over. “The fuck do you want in order to let her go unscathed…mostly” he watches his grip on her neck lessen but not enough for her to free herself.
“Let me go. Like that one said before. Let me try to fend for my goddamn self out there with the stuff I’ve got” Tomas pressed the gun into her neck more when he watched the two move. “You have to lower your weapons entirely…or I will kill her on my way out”
I’m not losing her Daryl instantly lowered his crossbow, even set it on the ground and that action led Tomas to glare at Rick to do the same along with T-Dog who had a different vantage point.
Tomas slowly stepped back, dragging Y/N along with him before tossing her to the ground keeping his gun pointed at the few. He waited a moment then turned on his heel making a break for it but before Daryl could grab his crossbow, Rick stopped him as Y/N took out her holstered gun aiming it at Tomas and taking the shot. He dropped instantly and his death led to another prisoner losing it and making a break for it.
As Rick grabbed his gun chasing after the other prisoner, T-Dog kept the other two in check while Daryl quickly brought himself to Y/N’s aid assessing how bad the bruising was on her throat and noticing the return of the frozen state she was in.
“Has she spoken to anyone since it happened?” Lori questioned Rick as the two were at the entrance to the prison watching Y/N sit in the field alone.
“No, but I know for a fact Daryl ain’t gonna leave her out there alone for much longer” Rick referred to the archer who couldn’t keep his gaze away from Y/N when he was helping T-Dog with more walker burn pits.
After some time, Y/N flinch hearing footsteps as she turned around to find Daryl holding his arms up in surrender. She relaxed turning herself back around as he brings himself close taking his poncho off and carefully putting it on her.
“If you’re gonna stick around out here might as well have that” Daryl sat himself down beside her leaning back on his hands.
“You wanna know don’t you?”
“Know what?”
“What he did. How he got there…I can’t explain why he was the way that he was but I can try—-“
“We all have our scars. You don’t have to share yours…we all were just. Scared for yea even when we didn’t know” Daryl frowns watching her get comfortable with the poncho on her as she kept her bruises hidden the best she could.
“He hurt me. The first time was…or I thought it was an accident. Then it kept happening every time I did something wrong or he was mad at something else.” Y/N frowns hugging her knees close to her chest. “He even got mad when I tried to get out of it…”
“Get out of the relationship, right?”
The look she gave him was full of sadness and even when the threat being permanently gone, there was still the anger toward her past self for letting it happen for so long and not ending it sooner.
“Oh…well, uhm. I’m glad you’re still here” in some way, that was him telling her exactly how he felt about her.
Y/N finally let herself break with the tears starting to stream down her cheeks. She held herself while she sobbed, gripping onto the poncho reminding herself that she’s safe now.
“I won’t let anyone hurt yea…ever again” Daryl promises then…
and will promise forever.
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werewolf love
headcanon summary: dating a werewolf!tav
content warnings: none
fandom: baldur's gate 3
characters: astarion, karlach, shadowheart
gender neutral reader
anon request
astarion:
let's just say, the rivalry between werewolves and vampires are kept up with you two when you first meet. he would glower at you, rolling his eyes as you being the designated unofficial leader. he would rather do anything than follow your lead, but he needed to if he wanted to find cazador.
and you, you found any way you could to annoy him in some form of capacity. you held no ill will to astarion himself, despite having wary distrust for vampires. but you're more so into just annoying him because you know you both are coming from the same spot of having a worm in your heads. (you don't want to admit that the perceived hate from him towards you does sting a little.)
but you strive on, trying to at least get his feelings to be neutral towards you. you may pick on him once in a while, but it's mostly because you feel you have to based on the stereotypes. but one day, things seem to change a little.
"you know, dear, i don't actually hate you. a lot of who i am is an act to keep people at arm's length. i know i was doubtlessly a little more cruel to you than others, but i'm sure part of it was for reasons why you picked on me as well." he says one night, having a hard time making eye contact with you.
you soften, giving him a small smirk. "it's okay vamp, i understand. let's just call it even here, yeah? i'd be glad to call you my friend."
"and here i was hoping to call you more than that." he says, giving you a small smile, trying to waive off the tough talk with humor.
"oh, i'm sure we'll get there in no time with the way we're going now." you tell him, excited for what the future holds.
and from there, you guys do get into a relationship. it turns heads for sure, a vampire and a werewolf. but this time, the quips you both deliver to each other comes from the heart, the teasing aiding in the fiery passion you have for one another. because by god, you're both allowed to make funny insults to the other, but the second someone has something to say about either one of you, the other is at that person's throat to make sure that they apologize for the words they said.
be prepared for astarion making every sort of werewolf joke under the sun. he'll definitely have the gall to act offended though when you make a vampire joke right back at him. he gets so pouty about it, having to sulk at the other end of camp, clearly just using this as an excuse to milk the attention you'd give him as an apology.
in the end, you two compliment each other in the dating lives, having a very balanced relationship despite the small rivalry people expect you to have.
karlach:
oh, she loves meeting someone who turns into a werewolf. i feel like karlach herself is someone who wishes she could be a werewolf because she thinks it's badass. she hangs out with you at first as an infatuation, needing to know how you turning into a werewolf works. she wants to know pain levels or if it's something you're used too, everything.
and as you two get to know each other, it turns into romance eventually. you're the sweethearts to lovers, where her gentle enthusiasm for you and your quiet obsession over her turns into a sweet romance. she loves you and how you dedicate yourself to what you believe in, and you love how fiercely loyal to those she trusts. you make a perfect duo with one another that turns into love.
she held no judgements about you being a werewolf, she's someone who holds her judgement based around if thinks you're a good person or not. she was happy to see how good of a person you are, and she loves being around you.
she also thinks it's nice to be able to cuddle with someone whose body temp runs high like hers, and will pout if you jokingly worm your way out of her hug because you say you're warm.
she absolutely sticks up for you anytime someone makes a snide remark, even if you can stick up for yourself. not many people do have something to say, but there's always one person or another who does have something to say. and she's right there next to you, ready to kick someone's ass over it.
"you know, i think that people are just real assholes sometimes." she growls, clearly hyped up after what someone had to say at the bar you were just at. you were taking laps outside, walking around to help her get some of the energy she had out.
"i know karlach, unfortunately some people just talk. there's nothing i can do but let what they say roll of me, not many people do have shit to say to me." you try to sooth her a bit, so that way she doesn't go back and strangle someone.
she releases a huff of breath frustratingly, wanting to do something. so you offer sparring to take her mind of things, and get the rage of what happened off her mind. it helps her, and as always, ends in a bit of a make out session that gets others to sigh at what you're doing.
shadowheart:
she originally had neutral feelings about you, and even after finding out you were a werewolf, she really didn't have any strong emotion about it. she takes her time when getting to know people, and then makes judgements from there i feel like.
it's a slow burn into romance, where both of you originally didn't even really realize you had feelings for one another until other people in the camp pointed out you that certain actions you were doing for one another isn't what people who don't have feelings for one another do.
she doesn't really give a damn that you're a werewolf, and i mean, sure she's curious and asks a lot about what comes with being a werewolf, but she does love you for you and that's the core of who she is. your relationship is one of helping each other, working through navigating your own identities and how that has effected both of you.
she understands how being a werewolf can come with how people expect you to act, considering people also have their own ideas of how she might be because of her backstory with shar. people tend to steer clear of her because of it. part of the reason she acts like she disregards your identity of being a werewolf is so that way you could also disregard part of her identity, something that many others tend to focus on.
but she loves that you tend to take the lead on helping her navigate what she wants, showing that it's not so scary to face identities. it brings you close together, and it makes everyone melt seeing how you both hold the love for each other in the ways you lean closer to one another.
shadowheart tends to your aching limbs the day after a full moon shift, using her healing to help you feel better. she knows that they can be rough, wanting to only be of help.
"i hope this helps you feel better." she whispers, rubbing some of the salve she prepared over the peak aching points. you groan a little as the ache flares when she rubs over them, but then it's a sigh of relief as what she has works fast.
"it does my love, thank you." you tell her, taking a fascination as she turns a little red at the nickname.
"i always love helping you." she says, leaning in and kissing you after she's done. you inhale her smell of rosemary and lavender from the salve, enjoying the moment of being with her.
#bg3#bg3 headcanon#bg3 imagine#bg3 x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 imagine#baldur's gate 3 x reader#baldur's gate 3 headcanon#astarion#astarion imagine#astarion x reader#astarion headcanon#karlach#karlach imagine#karlach x reader#karlach headcanon#shadowheart#shadowheart imagine#shadowheart x reader#shadowheart headcanon
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Help Me, Help You - Part Two
Fenrys x F!Reader
Summary- Embarking on their journey, Y/n and Fenrys slowly start to learn a little more about each other, to Y/n’s utter annoyance.
Warnings- none
Series Masterlist
Part Two
Y/n follows the golden male, her own pack strapped to her back. Only the essentials, clothes, weapons, and gold, if she needed anything else she could buy it along the way.
They walked for what felt like eternity, the road was well worn into the forest floor, coated in dry fallen leaves, winter would hit here soon. The wind held that chill, bringing it from the northern point of the continent, a familiar feeling on her skin.
The nearest port city would take them nearly another whole day to walk to, and who knew how long after that to get passage to the southern continent.
Y/n had been half tempted to shift and run to their destination, but she stuck to Fenrys, after all she’d sought him out for a reason. As night soon approached, Y/n found herself walking closer to the male’s side. Her brother had told her many stories of the creatures that lurked in the shadows.
“So,” Fenrys says, breaking the long silence they’d fallen into, “If you don’t mind me asking, where’d the cat form come from? Vaughan is the furthest thing from feline.”
A question she’d heard most of her life, one she dreaded deeply.
“None of your business,” Y/n says, and there’s a bite to her voice that she can’t hide.
“No need to get testy, kitten.” The nickname had stuck long after they’d left that little village to her utter dismay. “Just trying to get to know my new partner in crime.”
She glares at him, “We have different fathers, that’s all you need to know.”
It was the simplest version of the story, the only one she was willing to share.
“See was that so hard?”
The male is grinning at her, the expression pulling uncomfortably on the large scars that adorned the side of his face, from his brow to his jaw, just barely missing the onyx eyes that examined her just as closely as she did him.
“Why’d they send you out to look for him?”
Fenrys raises that scarred brow, “I volunteered.”
She hums, looking back at the path before them. The sun was starting to set, turning the sky a deep orange.
“We’ll set up camp here,” Fenrys says, taking his small pack off his shoulders, “Start the fire and I’ll find us something to eat.”
He didn’t give her any time to respond, shifting in a flash into a brilliant white wolf. Y/n took a step back from the to large creature, her heart leaping in her chest.
Her brother had told her of the Moonbeam twins, of their opposite colored forms that could tear men in two with a simple snap of their jaws. She didn’t want to find out what those teeth would feel like around her throat.
The wolf stared at her, a knowing look in those onyx eyes. He turned, darting into the woods, leaving her alone, leaving her to figure out how to start a damn fire.
It didn’t take him long to hunt down a few rabbits, Fenrys was already on his way back before the sun had turned the sky a deep purple.
He’d expected to find a small fire, not Y/n glaring intently at a bundle of sticks and some dried leaves. She clutches another small stick in her hand, holding it tightly enough that it bends beneath her grip.
“I don’t think you can threaten it into starting,” he says, “Though I’d sure love to see you try.”
She startled, looking up at him with wide eyes, her posture rigid, like she was ready to bolt. It takes her a second to really look at him, to realize he’s not a threat, before she relaxes, turning her glare back on the little pile of sticks.
“I can’t get it to start,” she says, throwing that poor bent stick down on the ground.
“Staring at it isn’t going to help,” Fenrys laughs, “Do you even know how?”
Her glare shoot up to him, snapping, “Yes.”
The way she says it, the harsh tone, the self conscious edge to it, tells him that, no, she doesn’t know how to do it.
“What? No one taught you any survival skills, kitten?” Fenrys asks, “I would’ve thought dear old brother would have at least shown you the basics. He always was the outdoorsman of the group.”
Y/n doesn’t snap back like he thought she would, only glares back down at that little pile, as if she could will the fire into starting.
Fenrys sighs, kneeling down in the dirt beside her, taking one of the larger sticks into his hand, placing the slightly sharp edge against one of small pieces of tree bark. Using both his hands to turn the stick back and forth, pushing down with each turn to create more friction. It only takes a few moments for the bark to start smoking, and then a small flame catches, spreading to the dried leaves packed around it.
Fenrys glances at the female beside him, those keen eyes watch his hands closely, like she was trying to memorize the motions.
She seemingly feels his gaze, her eyes jumping up to meet his own, he sees the embarrassment as soon as it hits.
“I haven’t left home much,” she explains, “No one saw fit to teach me.”
She shifts uncomfortably beneath his gaze, so Fenrys looks away, turning his attention to their dinner. He sees her watching in his peripherals as he prepares the the little creatures to be cooked. Her eyes are intently on his hands, watching each cut of his knife. Fenrys takes his time, slowing the motions down, silently teaching.
Fenrys throws the meat onto the fire, “I don’t know much about your brother if I’m being completely honest.”
“Not many do,” Y/n answers, those eyes still on the roasting rabbit, “He’s always been very private, even at home.”
“And where’s that?” Fenrys asks, “Home?”
Finally, those keen eyes look up, lit up by the fire, they look even more cat like than usual.
“North,” she says, quietly like the information was a secret, “A very small village in the Cambrian Mountains.”
Fenrys wouldn’t ask the name of the village, it’s likely he’s never even heard of it, “How’d you get so far from home?”
He didn’t add the fact that she didn’t know basic survival skills, yet the narrowed eyes tells him she heard the unspoken words.
“I traveled much in my other form,” she explains, “The Oakwald Forrest Cats are well used to the cold.”
With the long thick coat he’d seen, it wasn’t a surprise.
“I knew I’d recognized that cat,” Fenrys says.
He’d seen them near Terrasen, yet he’d never seen a fae shift into one. Though many of the fae of Erilea had been long hunted down, the few that remained, the ones he’d found to help them, there hadn’t been a cat among them.
“A gift from my father,” she says blandly, an edge to her voice like the last time he’d asked about her family. Seems her father was a sore spot for her, he tucked that knowledge away for later.
He hums, turning the stick holding his dinner to roast the other side. She did the same with her own, staring into the flame intently for several long minutes.
There was a familiar look in her eyes, one he’d seen in his own many times, like she was lost in a memory, lost in the emotion it came with.
So Fenrys took his dinner from the fire, nudging her own towards her, “Eat up.”
Without even looking at him, or looking away from that spot in the fire, she took her food and ate silently, methodically.
Once she was done, she shifted in a bright flash, curling into a small ball by the fire, her back to him. A clear statement, I don’t want to talk.
He knew the feeling all too well.
They arrived at the small city just south of the Naval port around midday, far quicker than she expected. Fenrys had gone to the docks to look for passage, leaving Y/n to wander the city by herself.
It wasn’t much, yet it was bigger than what she was used to, louder too. There was many voices, vendors hawking their goods, children playing, musicians singing and dancing to music played on improvised instruments.
Overwhelming, Y/n could only stare at it all in her cat form. Moving through crowds and over high beams, dodging hands that reached to pet her soft coat, hissing at to curious people who tried to grab her.
“Here, kitty kitty kitty,” a voice behind her, familiar and annoying.
Fenrys stood there, the human crowds parting around the obviously fae male. He was smiling devilishly at her, holding out what seemed to be a piece of ham from the wrapped sandwich in his hand.
She hissed at him, swatting the offering.
“Awe, come on,” he coos, “Don’t you want a treat, kitten?”
A man walking beside them fell straight on his ass when Y/n shifted, growling at Fenrys.
“Stop calling me that.”
“What? It suits you,” he leans closer to her, drawling out the word, “Kitten. Hey!”
He yells as Y/n rips the sandwich from his grasp. Turning on her heel to stalk away from him while she took a pointedly large bite.
“That was mine,” Fenrys whines, catching up to her in a few strides.
“And where’s mine?” She asks with a raised brow, taking another bite.
“I asked if you were hungry earlier,” Fenrys sighs, throwing his hands in the air, “You’re the one who said no.”
Y/n shrugs, “What’d you find at the docks, anything?”
Fenrys sighs again, turning his gaze away from his stolen sandwich to glare at the sky. That wasn’t good, Y/n thought, they’d be stuck here for weeks waiting for a ship to take them across the sea. Vaughan could be well on his way to the other side of the vast southern continent, and she’d never find him.
“Nothing?” She asks, lowering her hands from her mouth.
Fenrys moves quickly, snatching the lunch from her, “No, actually we leave in the morning.”
She gapes at him, “That was-“
“Mine actually,” he cuts in, biting directly where her mouth had just been, “Did Vaughan not teach you to always keep your guard up either? That was like taking candy from a baby.”
Y/n snarls at him, and Fenrys just laughs. She tries to grab it from him, but the male just held it high above his head, far far above her own.
“Oh quit with the hissing, kitten,” Fenrys laughs, “I’ll get you your own, we need to stock up for our trip anyways.”
“Quit calling me that, you oaf,” she snaps.
Fenrys smirks, patting her head with his free hand once, snatching the hand back as she went to swipe at him.
“Quit reacting so much and maybe I’ll stop.”
She doesn’t respond, only bearing her teeth at him, to which he only laughs, turning on his heel to saunter through the market. Y/n quickly realizes he wasn’t going to wait for her, assuming she’d just follow.
Swearing under her breath, she did just that. Jogging to catch up to the male, who still had that insufferable smirk on his lips as she settled into step beside him.
“I thought you were going to sit there and pout all day,” Fenrys says.
She was half tempted to claw at his smirking face and give him a matching scar on the other side.
“You owe me a sandwich.”
He laughs, “Someone’s mean when she’s hungry. Good to know, I‘ll pack extra snacks.”
“Shut up.”
They spent a several hours traversing through the vast city markets, stocking up on dried meats and cheeses that would hold well on the trip down to the southern continent. Once their bags were packed to the brim, they made their way to the ship, where they’d spend the next few weeks. It was set to leave first thing in the morning, so they hadn’t bothered to find an inn to stay the night in.
Fenrys had been relieved to find a ship that would take them, let alone one that was headed straight to the continent. And in his time on ships, he could say this was one of the nicer ones he’d been on.
The owner was a merchant, one that traded in silks and thread, he claimed to have tailored for Hasar herself. Knowing the female, Fenrys highly doubted she would let the sniveling man anywhere near her.
Fenrys had more than enough gold to pay for the trip across the sea, and enough to splurge on a private room away from the shared hammocks below deck.
He dropped his heavy pack onto the small desk by the door, falling face first onto the small bunk pressed against the wall with a satisfied groan. Fenrys appreciated the gentle sway of the ship beneath him, mostly because it was about to take him far away from this suffocating continent.
Behind him, Y/n quietly shut their door, carefully arranging her bag onto the opposite bunk, much more refined than his careless approach.
Fenrys turned his head just enough to see her. Either she didn’t notice his gaze or didn’t care, her focus stays on her bag, on the clothes she dug out. She methodically arranged her items, something Fenrys noticed she did a lot, she’d done it that morning when they packed out their little camp, later in the market when she stored away her things. Like there was something soothing about the repetition, like it calmed whatever was happening in her mind.
Fenrys would like to learn something similar, if only to stop the endless thoughts and emotions that, even after several months, still ran constantly through his head.
Her eyes finally turned to him, catching his stare. Suddenly he felt like he wasn’t meant to be watching, and the embarrassment of being caught had his cheeks darkening. There was really no reason for it, it wasn’t like he’d been watching her change.
“I’m going to go freshen up,” she says casually, her eyes not missing the blush, “Don’t miss me to much.”
She moved to the door, and Fenrys found himself tracking the movement, pushing up to rest on his elbows. She moved silently, like she always did, that feline grace that would put the silent assassins of the red desert to shame.
“I miss you already, kitten,” Fenrys sighs dramatically as she opens the door.
A hiss, a slam of the door, and she’s gone. Fenrys smiled to himself, settling back into his bunk. The gentle sway of the ship had him yawning before to long, the somewhat comfortable bunk didn’t help either, compared to the last few sleeping arrangements it was like laying on a cloud
As he drifted off to sleep, he saw keen eyes watching him, directly through his mask of confidence and swagger, staring into his soul, broken and dark, yet not seeming to care. Fenrys could only stare back, wishing he could see past her own shields.
Tag List
@emma-andrea
#sorry for the long wait#your girl has been busy and sad#not good for writing#fenrys moonbeam#fenrys x reader#fenrys tog#throne of glass fenrys#throne of glass x reader#throne of glass#tog x reader#tog
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Maze Runner Masterlist (1)
Thomas
Breathe
When your fear of losing Minho forever causes a panic attack Thomas helps you calm down.
The Best Greenie
When a new Greenie comes up you realize this one might be worth keeping around.
Good Night
You and Thomas have never seen eye to eye, but one shared night in the pit may change that.
Beautiful Moments
After you fall asleep on Thomas's shoulder he's thankful that life is still full of beautiful moments.
Jealous Boy
After becoming close with Aris, Thomas's jealousy finally shows up.
Distance Makes The Heart Grow Fonder
After getting to see when you were separated in WCKD Thomas realizes how he actually feels.
Newt
Letter From Heaven
Mute
As someone who struggles with selective mutism, you are surprised when Newt still more than wants to know you.
Sorry I Almost Shot You
When Newt and the group end up in the Safe Haven, they get quite a surprise and a weird start to a friendship.
Attention
When you and Newt end up in the pit together, you do everything you can to get him to notice you.
It's Not Goodbye
After finding out you're not immune, you are ready to get rid of yourself only to be caught by Newt.
Daisy's
You'll never forget the boy you love, even after he dies.
My Glue
When your brother is killed in the maze Newt is still by your side to support you.
Helpful
After spending all day with Newt you say something that proves you may return his feelings.
Bless You
After crawling through the vents you end up meeting a cute British boy.
Stars
After a long day, you take Newt stargazing.
In My Heart
When survivors guilt hits you extra hard one night Newt comforts you.
Next Time Then
After standing up up for Newt, he visits you in the slammer.
Denial
After you don't come out of the Maze Newt keeps telling himself that you're coming back.
Minho
The Perfect Loss
After years of being in competition with Minho, one loss changes everything about it.
Faith
After everyone keeps doubting your abilities, Minho is right there to defend you.
Better
When Minho realizes you're struggling with an eating disorder he encourages you to get help.
Different Sides
After Thomas comes to the Glade and everyone picks sides you and Minho discover how different you actually are.
Just a Pretty Face (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)
After years of trying to be better than the other, one dare from Minho himself shows the reason behind it all.
Irresistible
When Minho goes to check on you while you're sleeping, you say something that lets him know the feelings are mutual.
Consequences
After you get stung, Minho feels responsible for not saving you.
Helping Hands
After realizing you won't tell Minho your feelings Newt lends a helping hand.
Gally
Good Liar
When someone thinks you're Gally's girlfriend, you cover up the truth with jokes.
Dibs
When Gally asks why you never greet the Greenie's you talk about what it's like being the only girl.
The First Tears (Part 1, Part 2)
After an argument with Gally leads to a breakup, you both have to decide between vulnerability and each other, or walls and false strength.
Captain Gally (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)
As Gally and your rivalry continues he does something that changes it.
Hidden Burns
As you think you're hiding your problems fine Gally quickly proves otherwise
Alone
When you storm out after an argument, Gally figures out just how truthful your words are.
Care For You
After Gally doubts how much you really care about him, you say something in your sleep that shows the truth.
Aris
Nightmares
When you suffer with more nightmares you go to Aris for comfort.
Interesting Things To Say
After all your friends know your feelings for Aris, they help set you two up.
Camp Buddy
When you meet Aris at summer camp, you end up as more than friends.
Worth a Shot
After all your friends know your feelings for Aris, they help set you two up.
Come Back To Me
After realizing you could lose Aris, you tell him how to feel.
A Stone and Bruises
When Aris walks in on you hurting yourself he cleans you up and comforts you.
An Introverts Dreamboy
After Aris helps you come up with a plan to avoid people, you realize how you feel.
Scars
Even though you do everything to hide what WCKD used to do to you, Aris finds out and comforts you.
Bird Boy
After someone tries to use your special nickname for Aris you shut them down.
Two Hearts
Despite being with you it's clear Aris has someone else on his mind.
It's Always Been You
When a new group arrives at WCKD Aris's behavior is definitely off when one of them starts flirting with you.
A Letter Never Sent
Aris writes a letter to tell you how he feels before something could happen to you.
What You Deserve (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)
After the betrayal with Teresa Aris spills darker secrets than you could have imagined.
Unspoken Rules
Out in the Scorch, the new guy learns the unspoken rules of friendship
Well Played
After the betrayal you turn the tables around to show what that word really means.
Not So Invisible
After thinking his constant hate for Valentine's Day would never show up you do one small thing that changes his entire perspective.
Pretty Things (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)
A drunken kiss with Aris will either lead to a ruined friendship or something more.
A Few More Seconds (Part 1, Part 2)
When Aris sees you with another guy's jacket you end up having to search for him to find out what he's avoiding you.
The Bare Minimum
As other girls keep giving Aris a rough time you do everything you can to comfort him.
Fluff Alphabet
Teresa
Not My Choice
The more she thinks about what she has to do, the more Teresa wishes she was allowed another choice.
Never a Burden
After you feel ashamed for needing help sleeping, Teresa promises you could never be a burden.
The Girl In a Coma
After spending years in the Glade as the only girl another one finally comes up.
The L Word
When Frypan points out how you're acting towards Thomas and Teresa, you accidentally mention a certain word.
One Sided Love
After Minho insists you and Teresa are in love, you see how one-sided the feeling is.
Let Her Go (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)
When she sees you after years of being separated old feelings arise for both of you.
Brenda
Good For Her
You and Brenda are getting serious but don't know how to tell Jorge.
Excuses
After realizing you're in love with your best friend you try to avoid Brenda at all costs.
Don't Touch Her
After almost losing Brenda to the Flare you realize how deep your feelings run.
Things We Won't Admit
When a new group keeps teasing Brenda and you about being together, you both deny the feelings she knows may be there.
Sonya
My Sunshine
After Sonya gets captured by WCKD you stop at nothing to get your sunshine back.
Home
While Sonya is finding herself missing her old home you're right there to support her, no matter what that means.
Real
After Sonya comforts you about your doubts you fall asleep on her lap.
Love Makes Us Impulsive
When you start a fight because someone insulted Sonya she makes you think about why.
Harriet
Forgotten
Just as everything is finally going right with Harriet you stumble upon a secret that destroys everything.
"Friends"
While sitting with Aris and Sonya by the bonfire, they point that you and Harriet do not seem like just friends.
Sleep Tight
After you can't sleep, Harriet finds out a little more than she bargained for when she helps out.
Special
Harriet admits that she's stressed being a leader, along with one other thing.
Ivy Trio (All Platonic)
Puppy
After finding a puppy in the Scorch Thomas, Minho, and Newt try to convince you to keep it.
Story Time
After you can't go to sleep in Scorch the Ivy Trio and you share stories.
Preferences
What They'd Be Like Drunk
Drunk Texts
How They Go Christmas Shopping
What They'd Get You For Christmas
Their Favorite Place To Kiss You
Their Favorite Color On You
2nd List
Masterlist 2
Ship Masterlist
#thomas x reader#newt x reader#minho x y/n#gally x reader#aris x reader#teresa x reader#brenda x reader#sonya x reader#harriet x reader#tmr preferences#the maze runner#tmr#one shot#masterlist#tmr headcanons#thomas tmr#newt tmr#minho tmr#gally tmr#aris tmr#teresa tmr#brenda tmr#sonya tmr#harriet tmr
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well here’s the thing. durge arrives at gortash’s coronation and they know they should bring their companions with them because, well, he’s one of the guys controlling the nether brain, and all of this is a big deal and very confusing. but this coronation feels private. it feels like something they don’t want to share. it feels like something they can’t name (or won’t admit to themselves).
so they leave their companions outside. “i’ll be back in five minutes, if you hear fighting come running” type deal. great. they go into the coronation.
on the other side of the room, at the end of this red and gold aisle, is this man. he’s scruffy and well dressed and unmistakably enver gortash. then he notices them and he smiles. and suddenly all of these emotions come flooding back. fondness, and familiarity, and a terrifying swell of affection and rightness. like the feeling they get coming back to camp after a hard day, but so much more.
the room gets quiet. people are staring. durge walks down the aisle to enver gortash (and they can’t shake the feeling that this, more than the atrocities they’ve committed and their determination to be good despite it all, is their greatest sin yet).
he tells them about their plan. about how clever they were. about how terrible orin has been, and what the consequences will be if they can’t get the brain back under control. and he doesn’t say it out loud—won’t in front of so many others, or simply cannot bring himself to—but they can read him like no one else they’ve ever met, and it is clear in his voice and in every line on his face and each gesture of his hands that he has missed them.
but they’re back now. no more tolerating orin. no more revisions to plans made for two. no more lonely late nights. the two of them will unseat their gods and rule the world. together.
#this has been simmering in my brain for days#durgetash#i’m seriously SO fucked up over them#i like gorty holding his cards close to his chest at their first meeting and durge seeing right through him#like oh. fuck.#YOURE the reason i love the feeling of coming back to camp#YOURE the reason i have xyz habit with my romantic partner#YOURE the reason i wear black and red and bronze#and gortash seeing all of the ways he has changed them persisting despite the amnesia#AUGH#anywayyyyy haha. i’m normal about them!
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rotten to the touch; luke castellan
series masterlist
wc: 3.2k
pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.
warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’
notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain
You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.
It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.
It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.
Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.
But everyone loves Luke Castellan.
He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.
But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?
Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.
You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.
During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.
He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.
Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.
Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.
Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.
The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.
But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.
An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”
“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.
You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”
“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”
You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.
The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.
Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.
To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?
They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:
“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”
You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.
“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.
Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.
The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.
He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.
“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.
“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”
It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”
You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”
His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”
You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”
The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.
“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”
“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.
He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”
It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”
He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”
“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”
Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.
But when you play, you play to win.
“You don’t know that,” he dares.
“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”
However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.
He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”
All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.
“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.
He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”
The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.
“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”
His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.
“One of?” You challenge.
“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”
You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”
His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”
There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.
His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.
His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”
“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”
Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.
He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.
“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.
“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.
He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”
“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.
He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”
Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.
It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.
He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.
After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.
“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.
“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”
You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”
“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”
“Thanks, dipshit.”
“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”
The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.
The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.
He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”
He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.
After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.
He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”
And damn it, you really do believe him.
#perrie’s fics#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo x reader#pjo series#pjo tv show#luke castellan smut#pjo#heroes of olympus#charlie bushnell#i like sexy evil people making out okay.#maybe will make a part 2 to this series because i’m just so fascinated by their weird little dynamic but we’ll see#i kind of hate this but WE MOVE ANYWAYS!!
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Burns Like Rum
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.
Word Count: 7,840 words
Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet
18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock
Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)
☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.
The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.
He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.
It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.
But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.
You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.
"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.
Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.
And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.
You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.
"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.
"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.
"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"
You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.
"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"
Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."
She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."
You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."
You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.
It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.
The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.
She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.
"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.
She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.
You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"
"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.
But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"
"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."
Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.
Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.
He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.
You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."
From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."
He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."
"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.
"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."
You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."
"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.
You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.
Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"
"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.
Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"
"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.
He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.
"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable
"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."
He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.
"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.
Astarion sighed. "...Night."
~❊~
You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.
You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.
"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.
"Stop what?"
"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.
Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"
"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."
You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"
Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."
You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"
"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."
You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.
His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.
"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."
"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"
Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.
"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.
Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.
"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"
"I could go for a little," you said.
Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.
You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.
He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.
"You're starving, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," he whispered.
"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."
Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"
You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."
His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"
A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.
Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."
"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.
He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."
~❊~
Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.
You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.
You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."
Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.
He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.
A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"
You nodded. "Just a bit."
Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."
You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.
"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.
He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.
"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"
Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."
Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.
"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.
You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.
It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.
Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"
You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.
The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.
"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.
You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.
Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"
You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."
"Are you ready?"
You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.
Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.
One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"
"Please do," you said.
"Arms up."
He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.
"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.
"Yes, dear?"
You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."
He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.
"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.
You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.
"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.
You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"
"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."
Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.
Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.
The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.
"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"
You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.
Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.
Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.
He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.
Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.
Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.
"Look at you," he whispered.
The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.
He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.
He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.
You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.
"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."
You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.
You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.
"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.
He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.
"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.
He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.
"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."
Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.
He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.
You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.
Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.
Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"
"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.
He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."
He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.
You smiled. "There's more where that came from."
Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.
You nodded. "I can take a few more."
He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."
You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."
The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."
He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.
Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.
He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.
"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.
You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."
The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."
You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."
He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."
You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"
Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.
"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.
Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.
You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.
You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.
"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.
He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.
Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.
Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.
The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.
Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.
You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.
But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.
He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"
You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.
"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."
He snorted. "Excuse you!"
"It's all over your face!"
He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."
Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."
He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.
"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.
"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"
Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."
You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.
"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.
You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"
The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.
"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."
He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."
You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.
His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.
His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."
You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."
Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.
"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."
He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.
You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.
When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."
You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."
You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."
He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."
Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.
You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.
He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"
~❊~
You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.
Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.
Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.
You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.
You were wrong.
Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.
"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"
You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"
She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"
"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."
She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."
You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.
You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.
Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"
You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"
"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"
"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."
Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.
"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.
Astarion smirked.
"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."
He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.
Karlach squeaked.
"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."
"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."
You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"
Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.
A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.
"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.
You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."
Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"
Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"
"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."
"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."
☞ ❊ ☜
Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin
part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}
#astarion#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#astarion bg3#astarion fic#astarion smut#neil newbon#d&d#dnd#astarion baldurs gate#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion romance#astarion my beloved#neil newbon astarion#astarion neil newbon#vampire#vampire dnd#dnd game#bg3 gale#karlach#shadowheart#laezel#bg3 wyll#bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion x you#astarion x y/n#astarion ancunin#case’s fic
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⊹₊ ⋆ “that dick make my soul smile,”
TAGS — creampie, fingering, slight degradation, dirty talk (LOTS), jk’s a sleazy mess at first, oc is done, mamas is stressed out, rough sex, jk rocks her shit 💀, some praise here n there, jk’s affectionate tonight, sex tapes r mentioned again, shower sex(?) not rlly, possessive!jk, breeding kink, never ending saga of jk saying “mama” or “ma”
WORD COUNT — 2.6 k
“Trash, trash, trash,” you mumble to yourself while you sort out the mail in your hands, “oh definitely trash.” You sigh and shake your head. You’re knocked out of your thoughts when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your middle and pull you back, “What the hell–” You hiss in surprise.
“Hey mama.” Jungkook’s stupid voice comes from behind, you already know he’s sporting a stupid grin on his fucking face. You shove his arms off and turn around to look at him with an annoyed glare, “Oh c’mon don’t be like that, aren’t you happy to see me? You weren’t mad at me like this yesterday when you had my head between your–” You quickly reach up to cover his mouth and look around the empty hall.
“Are you insane? There’s people around, Jesus, you don’t have any shame do you?” You side eye him, “First off,” you shake your head, “what are you doing here? I didn’t text you and Jiho didn’t ask, so why are you here?” You give him a look, “And if you’re looking for Jiho you’d know he’s on a camping trip with his cousins.”
Jungkook raises his hands in surrender, “Can’t a man come see his baby mama anymore? Shit you suck the fun out of trying to surprise you baby,” he shakes his head but you know, Jeon Jungkook isn’t fooling anyone and certainly not you.
“You forgot, didn't you.” You scoff, “Of course you did, what else did I expect? This camping trip is all Jiho talked about last week and yet you still manage to forget that because you’re thinking with your other head.” You roll your eyes and turn to unlock the front door, “Sometimes I wonder what Jiho even fucking sees in you, you’re a deadbeat Jungkook, a deadbeat.”
Jungkook chuckles, “To be fair my other head is the reason you get a good night’s sleep.” He says with a smirk on his lips as he stands there admiring the way your ass looks in that tight pencil skirt you’re wearing. You turn around to shoot him a glare but say nothing else and simply step into your apartment. Jungkook leans against the doorframe with both arms raised, “So, you gonna let me in sweetheart?” He licks his lips, poking his tongue out to push at his lip ring.
You look into his eyes and then down at his lips, “Well?” You shrug your coat and slip your heels off, “You gonna stand there all night or what?” He chuckles quietly and slips into your apartment, shutting the door behind him.
“This is new.” Jungkook comments, “Don’t remember you ever smoking.” He inspects the ashtray with a noncommittal hum.
“It’s not just for me.” You say uncharacteristically calm, “I bought it for you, figured you needed one since you love leaving a mess on my patio.” You don’t miss the way he smiles fondly at you, “Don’t get too excited dipshit, I smoke too, don't forget that.” You scoff and disappear down the hall.
Jungkook whistles under his breath and follows after you, “I didn’t say anything ma,” he kicks your bedroom door closed and settles himself over your bed, “what’s up with you? You’re not being your usual angry self.” He watches you go around your room putting things away and picking out your clothes.
“I’m tired Jungkook, I had two meetings back to back and all I wanna do is come home to shower and sleep. Can’t do that because you decided to come bother me at this fuckin’ hour.” You mumble and then throw a pair of panties at him full speed, “Don’t think I didn’t see the shit you posted either, you’re not funny.”
Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “Really? Cause I thought it was hilarious, I think it perfectly describes us.” He cheekily grins at you with that dumb lovestruck look of his.
You stop to give him an exasperated look, “Jungkook,” sigh, “telling people you’re always fucking your baby mama regardless is not funny, neither is saying ‘I fuck her when she mad at me.’ You’re a child.” You shake your head. You throw more clothes onto the bed and grab your robe and towel, “Don’t make a mess in my house Jungkook, I’m not in the mood tonight.”
Jungkook watches you with a pleased smile, “I won’t.” He reaches for your tv remote, “I’ll be rightttt here, sitting like a good boy for you ma.” He winks, “You just go ‘head and shower.” You eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, he kept smiling goofily so you ended up walking away with no words.
You know he was up to something with the way he kept smiling so stupid. You grumble under your breath and hope he just doesn’t cause you to have a fucking aneurysm or something. You swear this man was going to send you to an early grave at this point.
Everything sounded pretty quiet out there, you heard Jungkook get up at some point but you figured he was going to smoke or get something. He even left the TV on, which you were grateful for because you didn’t do too well with silence. “What are you doing..” You mutter with closed eyes, just enjoying the hot water running down your exhausted body.
You were in the middle of reaching for your loofah when you heard the glass door open and Jungkook step in after you. “Pass me that bottle over there.” You softly hum.
Jungkook whistles softly and tugs you back into him, “Relax baby, let me do all the work.” He says in your ear, “I got you..” He gently pries the loofah out of your hands, “Worked so hard this entire week, baby deserves to rest.” He squirts some of your body wash onto the loofah. You don’t correct him because that’s true, hell you deserved this princess treatment for putting up with his ass too.
He gently ran his hand over your body, lathering your body up in the soap suds leaving you smelling like strawberries. He doesn’t try any funny business surprisingly, when he finishes he puts his hands on your shoulders and begins massaging gently. A quiet moan escapes your lips as relief rushes through you, “Damn you’re stiff as shit here.” Jungkook comments.
You lean your head back on his chest with a closed eye smile, “You’re finally being useful for once.” You chuckle.
“What are you talking about? I fuck you plenty baby, far as I know this dick makes you fall asleep faster than the fucking melatonin you take.” He laughs, making you laugh a little too. Jungkook lets your shoulders go and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you backwards so your back is to his front. “Got you something special.” He mumbles into your shoulder.
“Did you now?” you huff in amusement and gently stroke his arm, “What did you get hm?”
“Nothing much, figured you needed a night in so I ordered some fried chicken and soju.” He lays gentle kisses over your shoulder and buries his face in your neck, “I set up a movie to watch too.”
You turn your head to face him, looking into his eyes before smiling softly and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “Thank you. Guess you’re not a dipshit afterall.” He laughs at your words and you ignore him, opting to press your lips against his once more. Jungkook welcomes you, his fingers dance across your tummy and inch downwards causing your breath to hitch in excitement.
Jungkook’s lips wetly smack against yours, muffled grunt leaving him as he holds you tighter against him. The kiss initially started off slow and more controlled, now it’s wet and messy with sloppy noises filling the space between you two. You pant into his mouth and your eyes flutter open to look at him pleadingly.
Jungkook grins softly as he pushes you towards the glass, “There you go baby, let loose for me, I’ll make you feel so fucking good.” He has you pressed right up against the glass, tits smushed and hands on either side of you. You bite your lip and push your ass back against his thick cock, it’s hot and throbbing against your cheek making you all the more eager to get it inside of you.
“Look at you, pussy’s drooling all over my cock,” he bites his lip and swipes his cockhead through your dewy slick folds, “hear that? ‘s your pussy callin’ out to me baby.” He pushes in slightly, letting the tip pop in with a lewd squelch.
Your lips part in a breathy moan and you push back for more but he stops you with a gentle hand on your hip. “Not here baby, relax for me.” He says as he lets his cock slip out, “Gonna fuck your pussy with my fingers first, get you nice and stretched out before I fuck you with my cock.” He cups your pussy in his hand and lets his fingers slip through the mess dripping from your folds.
Jungkook takes his time opening you up, slipping his middle and then his ring finger into you until they’re knuckle deep. Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, this is exactly what you needed after those long hours in the office this entire week. Jungkook does not disappoint when he begins pumping them in and out slowly, making sure he hits every nook and cranny inside of you.
“There we go,” Jungkook whispers and begins kissing down your neck, “doing so good for me mama,” he sucks a hickey into your skin, “let go for me.” He nibbles on your earlobe and uses his other hand to wrap around your throat, not choking–simply holding it.
Your eyes flutter shut and you lean your head back on his shoulder, “Oh fuck yes,” you sigh in bliss, “right there.” You circle your hips, gasping when his fingers brush against your g-spot.
Jungkook pulls you back in and kisses up your neck slowly, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty baby, look at you, dripping all over my fingers like a little cock hungry slut. Bet you missed this dick baby, need me to come fuck it in your needy little pussy, have you all spread on the bed for me begging for more,” he whispers as he kisses the side of your face, “you gonna be a good girl and take it?” He jabs his fingers into your g-spot causing a burst of pleasure to hit you.
“Yeah,” you pant softly, “want it deep inside,” you bite your lip and spread your thighs a bit wider, “need it so bad.” You whimper quietly and push back on his fingers.
Jungkook chuckles breathily, “Yeah..” He moves his fingers faster, jostling you as your back arches, “Make it messy for me sweetheart, go ‘head and cum,” he has you locked in place, keeping you from moving anywhere. His fingers piston in and out of you rapidly, loud squelching noises resonating as bits of slick drip down your inner thighs.
“Oh fuck..!” You gasp and clench down, “C-Coming..” You hump his fingers desperately, “K-Keep going, right there, right there,” you whimper out and feel your orgasm come crashing down on you, hitting harder as all the stress lifts itself from your body.
Jungkook slows down until you’re whining in overstimulation, “Clean ‘em.” He slips his wet messy fingers into your mouth, “Fuck.” He groans, “C’mere baby.” He turns you around and lifts you up in his arms, “Need you on my cock.”
“Wait, the water!” You reach behind blindly to turn the knob, groaning when he begins sucking on your soft tits.
.
“Fuck..!” You throw your head back on the pillow with gritted teeth. He’s fucking you so fast and hard you’re honestly no sure what to focus on anymore..him? The skin slapping? The bed creaking? He’s not making it so easy either with the way he’s groaning and panting right by your ear.
Jungkook has you folded under him, his hands grip the back of your thighs and hold them up while he plows your swollen dripping pussy with his fat cock. The room feels stuffy, sheets are strewn about messily and you’re both laid bare in the open without a single care. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his moans are choked up and every so often you feel him throb inside you.
“You like that baby?” He pants breathlessly against your lips, “Got you clenching so tight around my cock, practically drooling all over me.” He rolls his hips against yours smoothly, pelvis pressing down and rubbing along your clit stimulating it. His balls press against your taint with soft palping noises every time he grinds into you.
You shakily claw at his shoulders and moan needily, the angle certainly has your legs feeling like jelly and your poor cunt throbbing from the pounding he’s giving you. “Love it,” you turn your face to slot your lips against his messily, “fills me up so good baby.” You cup his face in your hands and hold him in place while he works his cock in and out of you.
Jungkook lets out a muffled moan as he starts picking up the pace, hips smacking into yours over and over again with deafening slaps. He lets your thighs go in favor of planting them on either side of you on the bed, “Hear that sloppy little pussy? Got it creaming all over my cock and makin’ a mess. Who’s fuckin’ you baby? C’mon tell me.”
“You are.” You whimper out, “Shit–right there,” you mewl.
“That’s right sweetheart, no one else can give it to you the way I can. You can fucking try but at the end of the day this pussy is mine to fuck,” slap, “mine to use,” slap, “mine to breed.” He growls in your ear lowly, “Gonna ruin you for anyone else, so next the time you plan on letting someone else have it you’ll be remembering the way I fucked you so good.” He hisses softly and sits up, landing a set of punishing thrusts on you, making your body bounce a bit off the mattress.
Your head rolls back and you let out a series of staccato moans, crying out for more and scrambling to grip the bed sheets, the pillows, the blankets–anything. He’s fucking you within an inch of your life and you feel like you’re about to pass out from the sweet pleasure mixed with a tiny hint of pain from the way his hips smack into your ass. “Jungkook..!” You sob out.
Jungkook grits his teeth and reaches down to pinch your clit cruelly, relishing in the way your back arches off the bed. “Go on, cum for me little mama.”
With perfectly aimed thrusts and the combination of his fingers on your sensitive bud, you cum for a second time on his cock. He leaves you trembling on the bed, whimpering and whining. Jungkook follows up shortly with a low moan and your name escaping his lips, “Fucking hell.” He whispers breathlessly.
You let your jelly-like legs fall on the bed, “I’m not getting up.” You mutter, “Put the chicken away, ‘m going to sleep..” You turn on your side and curl up, shivering when his cock slips out of your battered pussy.
Jungkook hums, “The things I do for you baby,” he sighs softly as he strokes your thigh up and down, “lucky I love and appreciate you mama so much.” He rolls out of bed and slips his loose sweats on.
“You love me.” You sleepily mumble, “ ‘n you love my pussy.. I love your dick too.” You smile in your sleep, a bit delirious from the fucking and the strong orgasm he had given you.
Jungkook eyes you with a grin, “Damn right I do.”
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the styles’ nanny
Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 7.3k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet
A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!
Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.
And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.
It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.
But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.
“Y/N, did you hear me?”
“Oh,” she was snapped back to her current state following the short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”
She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.
“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”
Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.
“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”
Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.
Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”
“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”
He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”
“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”
“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”
Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He didn’t let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.
“Okay, thank you.”
“No problem, love.”
—
“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”
“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”
Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.
But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this behavior worried her. “I just want ice cream!”
“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”
Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”
“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”
“Please, I just want ice cream.”
It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.
“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”
He merely shook his head.
Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.
“What’s wrong, bub?”
Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore
Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.
Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could often tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.
Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.
Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.
“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”
She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his arms just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”
Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.
“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.
“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”
“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”
“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”
He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”
“Oh, are you sure?”
Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.
“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”
In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.
Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.
“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”
“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”
“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”
“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”
He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”
And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.
Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”
She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.
She could probably indulge a little then, right?
“Yeah, I do.”
He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—
“Wait, no, I can do it.”
He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.
“You can now?”
“Yes.”
He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.
What the fuck was that?
Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.
It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.
So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.
And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.
A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.
It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.
“Daddy?”
Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.
Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”
He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.
“Y/N, you’re still here.”
She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”
He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.
“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”
Her stomach did another flip.
Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!
Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.
“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”
He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”
Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”
“Missed you, daddy.”
She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.
Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”
In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”
Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”
“Will you be here too, Y/N?”
Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.
But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”
To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”
Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”
“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”
“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”
It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.
After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”
Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”
“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”
She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”
She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.
“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”
She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”
He hummed in agreement.
She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.
“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”
“Kay. Can I have a hug?”
“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”
“Night.”
Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.
“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”
“It’s my job to be good to him.”
“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”
“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”
The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.
So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.
She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”
His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”
“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”
It was a lie, of course it was.
“Fine.”
As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.
Shit.
—
Y/N was crying.
She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?
And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.
Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.
She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.
There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.
But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.
“Y/N?”
She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
What had she done?
“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”
“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“
“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”
“The viper.”
“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”
“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”
She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.
When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.
“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”
He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.
“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.
He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.
After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”
And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.
“Oh,” she whispered.
Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.
“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.
“Harry, I’m sor—“
“Drink the water.”
She almost flinched at his angry tone.
Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”
All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.
“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”
Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.
In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”
She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?
“What?”
“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”
The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.
He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.
Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”
Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it
“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”
He truly did have a point there, she supposed.
But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”
“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”
“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.
“What do you mean?”
He couldn’t be so daft, could he?
“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”
That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.
She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”
“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”
He was probably right about that.
“Okay.”
As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.
He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.
“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”
“Um, if you have something?”
She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.
He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”
Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”
Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.
When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”
Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.
Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.
“You’re really nice t’me.”
“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”
“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.
What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.
He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.
It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.
He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.
There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.
It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observing her because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.
He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.
He would lie awake until sunrise.
—
Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.
God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.
After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.
“God, Y/N, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”
“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.
He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.
Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.
He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.
“I— are you okay?”
It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”
“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“
His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”
Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.
But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.
“So why bring it up?”
“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?
“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”
And that… well, was partly right.
“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”
Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.
“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“
“I know that—“
“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”
Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.
There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.
“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”
“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”
Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you do anything.”
He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”
“You act like I don’t know that!”
“Evidently you don’t.”
“Yes I d—“
“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”
It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.
Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.
Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.
“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”
She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.
She’d fucked up so badly.
And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.
-
part two!
And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles angst#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fic#harry styles concept#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles x plus size reader#harry styles series
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Gale x Tav Kissing Headcanons
A/N: The patch 6 announcement has me back on my bullshit. I know I write a lot for Astarion, but this stupid wizard has my heart too. Here’s to hoping we get to make out with him soon.
Gale’s kisses come in stages
Obviously for a long time he’s very concerned about the orb and getting too excited, as it were
Even after the orb is stabilized and you have your first night together, some part of him thinks he’s getting away with something
The kisses shared between you are fleeting, but tender
While he adores your lips, he’ll just as happily kiss your hand or the top of your head, really any place he can reach
He wants to stay, even if it’s just the barest kiss you can sense it pains him to pull away, but you have other things to do
If he pushes his luck, maybe you’ll be the one to pull away first; he knows he can be a bit…much
The longer your together, the less hesitant he is
All he really needs is for you to pull him back into a deeper kiss a few times in a row for him to get the message
Once he has your permission, it’s nearly impossible for him to keep his hands off you
He still feels like he’s getting away with something, that at any second you’re going to realize he’s not enough or maybe the orb comes back or honestly just the daily dangers you have on your journey are going to tear you away, but instead of bracing for rejection, it just makes him hungry
He starts kissing you like it’s the end of the fucking world, but, in his defense, it kind of is
Even soft kisses come with hands cupping your face as he sharply inhaled your scent
He also can’t help but steal a few more, as if making up for lost time
Kisses after a fight are positively indecent
We already know he gets horny, but knowing he can touch you after makes him practically vibrate
He has enough self control to wait until your properly healed and back at camp, but not enough to wait until after you bath before he’s pulling your some place private and kissing the air right out of your lungs
That’s not to say every kiss leads to something more, only that he’s less reserved in putting all his love and adoration into every touch
He worships you, let him worship you
The feeling can be addicting, but it’s also something you might need to work on with him
Everybody wants to be loved, but being truly in love you need to be a partner, not a goddess on a pedestal
Your mortal and so is he, you don’t need worship, you just need him
And when he finally gets that into his thick skull you find him kissing you in all new ways
Without the threat of the Elder Brain or the crown, Gale finally feels like he has time
He still can’t keep his hands off you, but there is a warm security in it
He’s not afraid your going to pull away
He can kiss you slowly, savor the taste as he smiles against your lips
He can tease you and know you’ll just laugh and pull him back again
His finds he loves kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck as he simply holds you from behind for no other reason than because he can
Even when he finds himself distracted by grading papers or some new discovery, he’ll reach out for your hand, bringing it to his lips to make sure you know he knows your there
He starts to plan his mornings allowing for at least an extra fifteen minutes to get out of bed because how can he be expected to get anything done before he’s properly kissed you awake
Maybe things will teeter off later down the line, his colleagues have teased him more than once about the honeymoon phase
But even years down the line, he can’t see himself slowing down
Honestly the fact that it’s expected for people to be less in love with their spouse after their married is something he can’t find himself ever understanding (skill issue)
He doesn’t kiss you like it’s the end of the world, he kisses you like the world is going to keep on spinning, that time is going to keep moving forward and the best way he knows how to spend it is with you
#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale#bg3 gale#gale x tav#gale dekarios x tav#gale of waterdeep x tav#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#gale x reader#gale dekarios x reader#gale headcanons
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Mutual Help | #57
↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.2k+
⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢
When you truly think about it, you've probably let Jungkook in in more ways than one. Being in his presence is tempting. He is a temptation that messes up with your head. It is one of the reasons why you think the so-called break has been a smart decision. But he's not all that. He is still the same Jungkook whose presence is comforting. It's times like these when you're reminded of how much you love your friends.
Catching up with him and talking about how the day has been for each of you, isn't something new. There's not that much that has changed. You only stopped fucking each others brains out. Though, you hate how much you already miss it. And you shouldn't feel like this. But you also don't want to overthink anything, or keep your mind busy with something that's probably better not to think about.
Your dreams have been wild, the only time where you actually go back to how things were. Not all of them though. Maybe two or three since the camping trip and your decision.
Despite the inner struggles, Jungkook is your comfort person. Oddly enough, even though he's in the center of your thoughts, he brings you the biggest peace and comfort.
Tonight wasn't planned.
Luckily, you're always prepared when it comes to unplanned visits. All three of them love to surprise you (not that you mind), so your cupboard is never without at least one bottle of wine. Not being a much of a drinker yourself on casual evenings, you still suggest having a glass or two.
Jungkook agrees. After reminding you of him having to drive back home, you suggest him staying over. He agrees again. Maybe him staying overnight might not be the best for your hormones, you are forced to believe in yourself. Isn't this the whole purpose of this? To go back to just being friends, the ones you've been two years ago?
When you think about those times, you think of happiness. Surrounded by the greatest friends you could've ever asked for.
“Mind opening it?”
Jungkook looks up, finding you standing in your kitchen with a bottle of wine in your hand, a wine opener in the other. Standing up, he goes to help you without any words but there's a slight amused smirk on his lips when you hand him everything.
You share a look, not forgetting to playfully roll your eyes at him.
“So many bottles of wine and still can't open any of them.” he teases you, hinting at all the wine one of them had to open.
“Listen,” you muse, “You guys always whine about wanting to drink wine.”
“That's not true,” he laughs, knowing that he's bluffing. “We would drink anything.” he adds, which holds some truth to it for sure.
Feigning irritation, you motion for him to hurry. You watch him attentively, leaning yourself against a kitchen counter while he puts those muscles to work. He cuts the foil below the lower lip of the bottle, showing you how easy it is with a teasing tilt to his brow. Trying to hold back your laugh, you purse your lips instead before he inserts the screw in the center of the cork. He rotates it a few times, you're not sure because his eyes are on you.
“You're so cocky.” you comment, his brows shooting up as he lets out an audible laugh.
“What? I am not,” he argues, laughing. “You're just too amusing to look at.”
He levers cork, at least he tries to because it seems to be stuck. It's going harder than usual, which you can tell from all the times you had the opportunity to see a similar scene. His brows furrow and lips press into a thin line.
You cackle, “Maybe you got too cocky, buddy.”
“Shut up.” he mutters, his muscles bulging as a pop sound resounds, signaling the cork is levered successfully.
Maybe not so much, because in a seconds the wine spills around Jungkook, staining his shirt as well. You gasp, a hand over your mouth as you two share a look. Bursting out laughing, you shake your head.
“What did I say, too cocky.”
“Would you do it better?” he challenges, causing your grin to drop as your eyes narrow.
He puts the bottle down, the wine opener already in your sink as you grab a few kitchen paper towels and dry off all the spilled wine. Luckily, it's just a few droplets and no disaster is made. However, Jungkook's shirt has suffered the most. His entire white shirt is filled with dark red spots, turning purple from the wine's color.
He sighs in a slight annoyance, easily grabbing the back of his shirt as he effortlessly pulls it over his head. Almost choking on your spit, you try to not react too much as you quickly throw away the wet paper into the bin. But you straighten yourself too quickly, almost bumping into Jungkook's chest as you stare wide-eyed at him. He looks down on you, confused by your almost panic-struck face.
“What? Already too nervous at the sight of my chest?” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
You purse your lips, trying to play it cool as you chuckle. “You got naked all of a sudden. You just caught me off guard.”
“Is this me naked?” he laughs, “Come on.”
“You know what I meant.” you say through clenched teeth, poking him in his stomach, ignoring how hard it feels. “Besides,” you start, gulping. “Break, remember?”
“I just took my shirt off,” he laughs, throwing his head back as you're met with his soft dimples and white toothy grin. “You never minded it before.”
“I never fucked you before, did I?” You lean yourself against the counter once again, hand gripping the edge of it tightly.
Jungkook notices it, his amusement not so hidden behind the little twitch of his lips. Eyes back on you, they dance across your soft and slightly panicked features. “Am I that irresistible?”
“Cocky again?” you shoot right back, not giving him that pleasure of confirming his thoughts and feeding his ego. But he knows. One look at you and he seems to know it all.
You make a mistake by allowing your eyes to drop, first at his lips and they disobediently trace down his chest, muscles and then the deep V-line. Oh fuck, you want this man . You mentally scream at yourself and throw hands, definitely disappointed in yourself. He's barely doing anything and you're ready to drop down on your knees.
“What's the point of taking a break, if we can't control ourselves?” you ask out loud, not quite sure if those words are only aimed at Jungkook, or you're letting your consciousness speak out loud.
He watches you for a moment, getting closer and you stumble back, awkwardly getting back to your previous spot as he tries to hold back a laugh. It's not your fault your body is reacting! And your mind panicked.
“Don't know about you, but I can control myself.” he says.
“You can?” you ponder.
“Mhm,” he nods, “Otherwise I would kiss you by now.”
“Kook!” you exclaim, already panting at those words as he gives you a smile. You don't look long enough to detect what kind.
“I would.” He's not ashamed to admit it.
You watch him wet his lips. They look inviting. Automatically, your mind replays many times you've got to taste them, actually more than that. Your entire body feels hot, too hot in this small kitchen and you don't know whether to scream or cry.
“Break, remember?” he reminds you, a smirk dancing all over those damn lips and stunning features. He brushes past you, the stained shirt gripped in his hold as he makes his way to your bathroom.
You don't move. You can't.
All you muster to do is gulp all the saliva that have collected in your mouth, touching your hot cheeks with the back of your hand. Letting out a loud exhale, you ignore your strong heartbeat that feels like it's in your neck.
Quickly grabbing the two glasses for you and him, you ignore the sharp ringing sound. Suddenly, you're desperate for the wine – very happy about your friends insisting to have one at your place at all times.
Perhaps, wine is not what you're desperate for at all.
This is exactly what you were talking about.
Among all the things that are going against the morality of any friendship, thinking of Jungkook a certain way feels forbidden. And it should be. Maybe it is a little dramatic because it's not like you spend every minute of your day, thirsting over your best friend. But you've caught yourself thinking of him a few times a day.
Just a few days after you came back from the trip, Maya visited your place for the first time. In fact, she sat on the exact spot where Jungkook is sitting right now. At first, you never felt like bothering her with your stupid shit, especially when she's in the middle of planning her wedding while working every day like a normal human being.
But you couldn't take it.
You wanted to take things off your mind, undoubtedly connected to only one person who's closest to you. Now in more ways than two years ago.
However, you did want to get things off your chest as well and eventually, you've found your way back to him.
“I think I made a bad decision.” you told her when the topic Jungkook started.
Now, Maya might be the person who absolutely understands the craving and temptation he brings inside you, but she has also become your best friend whom you can share your inner battles with.
“I shouldn't feel this way.”
“First of all, I think it might be a good decision to stop thinking of what should and shouldn't feel right. You're overthinking it.” she told you, ignoring your slightly offended look you sent her way.
“He's my best friend.” you gritted through your teeth, suddenly growing overwhelmed with those thoughts again.
Deep down, you know you made the right decision. You know the reason why you made it in the first place. Yet, here you are, regretting it.
“Y/N, honey,” Maya's silky and comforting voice caught your attention. She angled her body toward you, leaning her head against her palm. “That feeling of… wanting him is not gonna go away with a snap of fingers.”
You frowned. You frowned for a while while she let you ponder in silence.
“I did it so we could focus on being friends. No intimacy.” you almost whispered, nibbling on your bottom lip.
“And it's okay still wanting him to bend you over and fuck you.”
“Maya!”
You both laughed, the girly laugher filling your once quiet and sad place.
“It's okay to have regrets. Just go with the flow.”
That's the last thing she advised you before you asked her about the wedding. She advised you something you and Jungkook did – and look where it brought you.
Luckily for your sake, Jungkook has had a shirt in one of your drawers, the result of him staying at your old place a few times. Actually, you're sure there are a few Taehyung's things in one of your drawers as well.
Gulping down your nerves with your wine, you naturally grow warm and relaxed. You barely pay any attention to the movie, focusing on how Jungkook's shoulder and side of his body feels… nice. You tend to get sleepy and cuddly (among other things) when tipsy. You're on your third glass of wine, nowhere near drunk but the exhaustion of today has caught up to you.
Jungkook's legs are outstretched, resting on your coffee table which you used to scold him for. Even though you often caught yourself doing the very same thing. Is it fair to scold someone for things you do as well?
“Kook?”
“Hm?” The soft, yet husky hum resounds from the man beside you, his hands resting on his stomach.
“What do you think about… the break ?” You cringe at giving it a proper name.
Though, Jungkook understands what you mean. He's quiet for a moment and when you lift your head up, you see his confused expression before his eyes settle down on you.
“Because you never told me what you think.”
Staring at him, you notice his hair is longer than the last time you've seen him. It's not been that long ago, yet you notice the small change. You wonder if he's going to grow it out like last time.
“Why you asking? Already regretting it, hm?” he teases, nudging you a little as your cheeks heat up.
“What? No!” It sounds like a proper lie and your throat tightens.
Whether Jungkook knows it or not, he decides not to tease you any further as his eyes focus on the screen of your television once again.
“I don't know what I think of it,” he responds after a while. “You told me the reason behind it and I respect it.”
“But do you agree with it?”
“Where is this coming from?” he frowns, though it's soft and confusing, just like your little and sudden integration is.
“Can you just answer?” you ask in annoyance.
“Yeah, I agree with it.” He says, “Maybe we got carried away too much.”
He leans forward, causing your head no longer leaning against him as he grabs his glass of wine and takes a few sips of it before getting back to his previous position. This time, you're watching him attentively. Your head leaned against the couch while the movie goes completely ignored. You watch the dark liquid in his glass, swirling it around.
Did you get carried away too much?
The only thing that changed was the fact you were having sex. Okay . Plus the never-ending thirst and temptation. Jungkook has shown you a different side of sex, something you've never experienced before. Perhaps, that's the reason why it felt so hard to let go.
And you panicked. With the events that happened lately, you felt like you wanted to go back to when none of this happened. But were your arguments happening because you were having sex?
“Do you miss it?”
Jungkook's brows lift up as you earn another glance from him. “You asking me if I miss fucking you?”
Your face gets hot all over again. “When you put it like this…”
He chuckles, leaning his head back as he stares at the ceiling. “It's been like a week.” he informs you.
As if you don't know. And what a week it has been!
You're just curious, blaming it on the wine because your thoughts are set free.
“I hope you know that when I look at you, sex isn't what I see.”
You look at him, ears perked up in attention as your heart flutters. “I know.” you whisper.
“I'm not Taehyung. I can go without sex.” he says, a loud snort rippling through your throat as you cover your mouth. He gives you an amused grin.
A silence follows and your thoughts work. Actually, they never stopped and now the alcohol inside you just urges them on.
“I had a sex dream of you.”
Completely oblivious of Jungkook taking another sip, he chokes on the dark liquid as he straightens himself from his position, gulping before coughing. “Jesus, Y/N.”
You give him an amused grin. “It was hazy. It didn't feel like a proper dream, you know what I mean? I feel like I had five dreams that night.”
It's true. You had a dream with him. It was very brief, much to your disappointment it ended too soon.
“This makes me sound like I'm thinking with my dick only.”
“You have no dick, Y/N.” Jungkook reminds you, snickering.
“You know what I mean.” you mutter in response.
Jungkook settles down his wine. He's a little surprised to see you sitting up, watching him attentively as he leans back. “What?”
“Nothing, you look good.”
For the second time tonight, Jungkook almost chokes on his spit. Shaking himself out of the sudden shock, he clears his throat. “Are you flirting with me?”
“No,” you say like it's the clearest thing in the world. “Just saying.”
He frowns, eyeing you suspiciously. As if he can't quite figure out what's going on inside your head. “Are you drunk?”
Jungkook knows you and your limits. You're a little tipsy, so is he but you definitely seem to show it more than he is.
“No.”
You sigh, sitting onto your heels before briefly tracing the veins that adore Jungkook's hands and arms. Is it June night or has it suddenly gotten too warm?
Jungkook catches you eyeing him, trying to hide his subtle smirk. He knows. “Break, remember?”
“Mhm,” you hum, completely ignoring the little reminder. “What a stupid idea.”
“Okay, I think you're drunk.”
“No, I am not.” you argue, frowning at him as he watches you in complete amusement. “I've thought about it a lot.”
“Is the wine making you horny?” Jungkook questions.
No, you do.
Though, you keep your mouth shut. You ignore him. “I know why I made that decision…” you trail off.
Jungkook raises his brow, waiting for you to continue. But? It's written all over his face.
“I miss you.”
He stares, blinking a few times. “You mean you miss my–”
“No, no. Maybe. I mean, no. You're not just that to me–” you quickly hurry to explain.
The problem is, you're not sure how to explain whatever it is you want to say. Whatever you think of pours out of your mouth. Usually you have enough time to think of what you're about to say, but right now you're unhinged. Maybe it's the result of your own frustration.
He is patient.
He's confused as fuck, well probably – at least you think so because his expression is neutral and he simply watches you, not ushering to explain or elaborate more.
He watches your eyes dance across the space around him, until your eyes settle on him. Then wander over his body until you shamelessly eye his wet lips, tainted by wine a little. He knows that look. He has seen it on many occasions.
“I'm not drunk, I promise.” you suddenly tell him. “I know I make no sense right now but…”
“Tell me what you want,” he tells you simply. “What's going on inside that pretty head?”
And you almost fold immediately, cursing that mouth of his.
“Trust me, it's not that pretty right now.” you mutter.
He laughs, “I can imagine.”
Ignoring what's that supposed to mean , you shift on your spot. “I know I wanted a break, but what if we did this one last time?”
You hate how nervous you suddenly feel. Is it embarrassing to admit such a thing? The last time you had a sex it wasn't under great conditions. It was mind-blowing and definitely did the work, but still.
Scooting closer to him, he attentively watches you as you lick your lips. “I mean… There's something I would like to try. And I trust you the most.”
Jungkook pulls his feet off the coffee table, setting them down on the floor as you make your way toward him. He lets you. He even helps you to sit down in his lap. Your hands are sprawled across his chest, slowly caressing the thin material as you feel his muscles under it.
“You're finally gonna let me fuck this ass?” he asks, eyes hooded lazily as he grabs your ass and squeezes the soft flesh.
Excitement floods your lower region, what could be considered as butterflies swirl inside your stomach.
“Fuck no,” you breathe out, “You're not going anywhere near my ass.”
Jungkook pouts, cheeks tinted pink from the wine he has drank. “Shame.”
You giggle, “Just one more time.” you tell softly, inching closer as your lips hover over his.
He breathes out, nose nudging yours. One thing is sure, alcohol sometimes makes both of you horny. You're not the type to go and look for a potential hook-up out there. And neither is Jungkook. At least you think so.
“You agree?”
“You're making this very hard for me, you know that, right?” Jungkook mutters, lips almost touching yours as his hold on your asscheeks tightens.
“Why's that?” you hum, teasingly playing with his hair until your fingers caress the nape of his neck.
“You just do,” he says before adding, “First you want a break and now you're on my lap, giving me those eyes.”
“What eyes?” you play clueless, causing him to chuckle.
“Those fuck me eyes.”
“You said you wanted to kiss me in the kitchen.”
“I did.” he hums, agreeing.
“You want this too, right?”
He looks up, lazily, eyes clouded with need and lust.
Again. He is your comfort place. He is comfortable and being in a position like this – you've got no regrets and you want him. Even if it's for the last time for God knows how long. There's no telling if you're ever going back to hooking-up. Usually, that is the plan when there's a word break involved.
Fuck focusing on your friendship for now. What did Maya say? Go with the flow?
“Yeah, but I don't want you to regret anything.”
“I'm never gonna regret this.”
You're not sure who moves first. Whether it's you or Jungkook, it doesn't matter. Your lips finally meet in a hard kiss, molding together as he deepens it. He kisses you, hard and needy, and you almost cry at that feeling. Fuck, you really did miss this. Before you can think of how wrong this might be, your want for him, you completely ignore it. Any possible morals are out of the window as you gasp into Jungkook's mouth.
He tastes like wine. You both do.
Eventually, you're forced to pull away to catch a breath. Jungkook's crotch underneath you hardens, informing you that he's aroused just as much as you are.
“What you had in mind?” he asks, voice raspy.
Pulling away with a smile, you turn off the television as you stretch your hand toward him. He watches you, slowly taking it as his big hand envelopes yours. He gets to his feet, his lean and hard body touching your side as you grow impatient. You lead him toward your bedroom, closing the door with a loud thud but not before turning off the lights in your living room. The bills are important, right?
Jungkook stands at the edge of your bed before you swiftly push him, causing him to sit down with a tiny smirk. Ignoring the smug face, you stand between his legs.
“Should I be worried?” he asks, hands on your hips as he caresses them. Trying not to swoon too much over that simple action, you pry his hands off you.
“Lay down.”
His brows raise momentarily.
“I see.” he mutters knowingly.
“Now.” you urge him, glaring at his smirk widening. “Wait.”
He cocks his brow at you.
“Take off the damn shirt.”
He chuckles, reaching behind him and tugging the shirt over his head. Fuck . Does he have to look attractive even while taking his shirt? God. Fucking hell. You did miss him.
Tossing the shirt on the floor, he sits there watching you up and down as you just stand there and admire his figure. One he worked hard for, yet it paid off entirely.
Fucking wine.
Before you can demand another thing, he gives you one last look of amusement before he scurries further down your mattress. You watch him lay down, making himself comfortable on your pillows as he leans his upper body against the bed frame. What a sight he is.
He watches you, silently and attentively, the entire time you get to your closet. You slide the door open, rummaging the bottom of it. His eyes are on you. You feel them on your back, watching your every move. While the fire that sits in the pit of your stomach, full of excitement, you pull out the item you've been looking for.
Just as you slide the closet door closed and turn around to face him, you see his smirk drop as he stares genuinely taken back. Now it's your turn to smirk as you swirl the fluffy pink handcuffs Taehyung kindly gifted you around your point finger.
“Fuck no.”
The response is immediate.
You get on the bed, taking the handcuffs with you of course. Jungkook watches you with a frown settled on both his face and lips. You get onto his lap, sitting right on top of his hardening cock.
“Why not?”
“I'm not getting handcuffed.” he states, eyeing you carefully as you place them beside you and start caressing his naked chest.
It's clear to say you want to be in control. It's debatable though. Whenever Jungkook has shown his dominant side when it came to sex, you were just as much in control. And you love and enjoy every second of him being in charge. This time, you want to be on top and play with him. Or maybe that sounds wrong. You want to give him pleasure, focus on him. To try something new.
You get closer to Jungkook, kissing his sharp jaw as he clenches it, watching you carefully but not moving just yet. You're sly. He's reminded of you being a little minx. You continue your path down his neck, kissing his skin as his chest moves, breathing slow and steady. His chest is neck, you pepper the skin with soft kisses just as you stop below the hem of his jeans.
He bites onto his lower lip harshly, meeting your gaze as you look up through your lashes.
“Can I take them off?” you ask, talking about his jeans.
“You don't have to ask.”
You grin, reaching for the belt as you undo it. His button and zipper are next before Jungkook helps you to take off his jeans.
“Just wanna make you feel good,” you tell him, eyeing his hardening and evident erection. “Can I make you feel good?”
“Fuck,” he sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “You wanna be in control, huh?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “What? You think I can't do it?”
His lips twitch. “No, no.” he assures you, though you're not sure if he's telling the truth.
Narrowing your eyes at him, you cup his bulge as you get on your knees, leaning down to his crotch. You palm him, his jaw clenched while you're trying not to moan at the feeling of his hard cock. Just the thought of pulling him out and having him inside you makes you wet.
Giving him one last look, you momentarily stop before you lean down completely and press a kiss to where his tip is, on top of his briefs.
“Fucking hell,” he gasps. “You're already teasing me.”
“What? No. I'm just taking my time.” you assure him cutely, smirking up at him which tells him otherwise.
Before he can react, you lift yourself up and carefully straddle him. You reach for the handcuffs, ignoring the way his cock is almost digging into your own crotch.
“Y/N.” he warns you.
You pout at him. “But why?” you almost whine. “You scared of handcuffs or what?”
“Keep talking and you're gonna be the one handcuffed.”
“I promise I won't do anything bad.”
He watches you, frowning and not totally sold on your idea. It definitely has something to do with his male ego. Jungkook is naturally dominant and while he had you on top multiple times, you never handcuffed him or showed this type of dominance. You reach for your oversized shirt, tugging it over your head as you expose your breasts to him. He gulps, watching the way they bounce from the single movement. Your nipples are already perked up, sensitive like always and perhaps, it's from the arousal as well.
He goes to touch them, mindlessly and automatically. His mouth opens in shock when you slap his hand away, even though you want nothing more than for him to touch you.
“What–”
“I wanna try this, Kook.” You're playing with him already. You pout and give him the puppy eyes, finger trailing down his abs. “You always asked what I want to try and this is one of them.”
He sighs, hand rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, okay.”
“Really?”
Jungkook almost smiles at how excited you sound. What the hell are you planning?
In reality, you're just going with the flow.
You reach for the handcuffs, knowing they're going to work well with your bed frame. You can easily handcuff both of Jungkook's hands. But just as you're about to reach for his hands, he automatically pulls away which causes you to give him a glare. He rolls his eyes, offering you his wrists. You sit on your knees, telling him to lay down completely. He does, with the same frown that makes you giggle under your breath. You take his wrists and bring them up to your bed frame.
Jungkook takes that time to watch you work on the handcuffs from below, feeling them wrapping around his wrists. Wanting to curse, he drifts his attention elsewhere and watches your breasts that are right above him.
You pull back with a successful and triumphal grin, watching him tugs onto them. While he mentally curses Taehyung for giving you such a stupid gift ever, you admire your work. You lean forward again, making sure they hold and Jungkook takes that time enveloping your nipple into his mouth. You gasp and flinch at the sudden feeling, pulling back to find smirking Jungkook.
“Couldn't resist,” he says cheekily.
Despite his current and clearly submissive position, he looks anything like it. He's here, your cheeks hot and heart beating fast. You don't think you'll ever grow tired of him showing his crave for you. You've said it multiple times in your head, but you've never felt wanted as much as you feel with Jungkook.
“Well, then start resisting.” you say smartly, ignoring the smug face. “Stop looking so cocky, you bastard.”
But he doesn't stop. He's smirking, looking at you because despite everything, he's in control. Frowning at that, even though you secretly love it, you stand up and get out of your pajama shorts. Revealing that you aren't wearing any underwear, Jungkook watches you hungrily, his head lifted thanks to the pillows under it. He's got a good view of you at the end of your bed.
You smirk. Men. One look at a naked body and they fold.
“Come here and sit that pussy on my mouth.”
Or not.
You give him a look, seeing him lazily lay there with his arms above his head.
“You don't get to make demands.” you inform him, watching that smug face wipe away slowly.
While you're completely naked, you sit on his calves and lean down to play with the hem of his briefs.
“This is torture,” he informs you back. “This is exactly why I didn't wanna be in these fucking handcuffs.”
“Already complaining?” you throw back.
He presses his lips into a tight line, keeping quiet.
Torturing a little more, you hover him once more with lips dangerously close to his. “That's what I thought.”
He chases your lips but you pull away, giggling when you're met with the usual frown.
Getting back to your position, you pull down his underwear. His cock springs free, shamelessly slapping against his abdomen before it stands upright. Minus the little facade that you have going on of planning to tease him, you're just as desperate to move further if not more.
So you wrap your hand around the base of him, wrapping your lips around the tip as you taste his pre-cum. Jungkook sighs in delight, allowing himself to close his eyes in a sudden relief. You lick the underside of him, knowing what you have to do since you've done it multiple times before. This is nothing new, yet it still feels amazing each time.
The handcuffs make a sound against the wooden frame, just as you let your mouth wrap around him some more, taking him deeper. The clank of them makes you look up, biting back a laugh when you see Jungkook's frustrated face.
“What were you gonna do?”
He growls, warning you not to tease him some more. Well, it surely isn't as much fun for him as it is for you, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy it. It makes sense. This is the first time where Jungkook can't touch you because he's physically unable to. You understand the frustration, you do. With a silent promise, you make it worth it.
Putting his cock inside your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and deliver him pleasure. Your hand and mouth works on him, and not even hair getting into your face stops you. You know if it weren't for Jungkook's hands not being available at the moment, he would wrap his hand around it, making sure it doesn't get in the way and he can see you.
“Mhm, yeah.” He mutters from above you, enjoying your mouth wrapped around him.
It's not enough, you know it isn't but you're not planning to make him cum. You've barely started and in order for him to enjoy this, there's more you want to do. You don't want to make it lame since this is your first time doing this. You're not going to lie. You like having him this… helpless. You enjoy it, it's a nice change from the usual cockiness.
You eventually pull away, making sure to suck him until the last minute. A trail of saliva connects the tip of his cock and your lips, causing you to wipe it with your thumb. He watches you the entire time with dark eyes, not questioning why you stopped.
This time, he lets you be in control because you don't look like you're about to deny his orgasm and make him truly suffer. On the opposite, he stares at you attentively as you simply turn around and throw your leg over his chest, facing him with his back.
“Fuck.” he curses silently from behind you, watching you lean forward to his cock once again.
However this time, your ass and cunt are right in his face. He sees how wet you are, just that alone makes him smirk because he knows you won't be able to withhold your own pleasure for much longer. After all, it does make his ego bigger knowing you're affected. You're clueless to his inner thoughts, even though you do realize how wet you are, it doesn't even cross your mind, not even when the air hits your core.
It's not until you have Jungkook's cock back in your mouth when you suddenly feel his mouth on you. You don't expect the swipe of his tongue, gathering your juices which makes you flinch in surprise. Throwing him a glance across your shoulder, you're met with the same cockiness you've seen a handful of times.
“Lemme eat this pussy out.” he almost begs.
“How am I supposed to focus then?” you question, the remains of wine causing you to speak your thoughts right away.
His lips twitch. You give him no reaction though, letting it up to him as you turn around and arch your back. Jungkook is a menace. He gets what he wants either way, shameless as ever as his mouth envelopes your clit as he sucks.
You gasp, leaning your forehead against his thigh while your hand stops working on his hard cock. For fuck sake. Frustration is what you feel because for a split second, you realize Jungkook is in control. He eats you out, your body and determination practically begging to be touched. Reminding yourself that this is not supposed to be totally about you, you force your hand to get to work. You're realizing you're not doing a half of a good job at delivering pleasure at the moment.
“Focus,” Jungkook says against your leaking cunt. You can imagine his mouth already being soaked in your juices, dripping it down his chest. Even the single imaginary sight of that makes you want to let out the biggest groan. “I thought you're great at multitasking.”
Apparently not when it comes to this , you want to bite back but you can't. You simply cannot. It's like the moment Jungkook touches you, you're already gone.
Somehow, after a moment of realization and determination yet again, you take him into your mouth.
“That's it,” he groans against you, sending vibrations right to your core. The wet sounds coming from behind you create a sinful proof of your doings, ones you don't mind at all.
You're close.
You can't focus.
Not with Jungkook's mouth that skilfully slowly but surely brings you to your end. And then the cocky bastard opens his dirty mouth again, not minding what it's been doing, not even a bit.
“Wanna spread this cunt. Come on, rub yourself against me.”
Ignoring Jungkook's pleas of wanting to be suffocated by your pussy, you shake yourself out of a familiar daze full of desire and lust. This bastard!
You pull away, not only to give him one last taste of your mouth, but also taking the approaching orgasm from yourself. Jungkook's quiet until a noise of both surprise and disappointment fills your bedroom. You get off his lap, facing him while you give him a perfect view of your messy appearance. One he's undoubtedly the reason for.
“Why would you do that?” he whines, tugging onto the handcuffs again. His face grows frustrated at the restraint.
And then it's gone. What was a frustration just a second ago, you watch his entire face morph into a perfect slowly growing smirk.
He's satisfied. Satisfied that once again, he proved you just how much control he has over you even with barely any way of touching you. He can't use his hands, he can barely move as they stay handcuffed above him, secured around your bed headframe. But that hasn't stopped him. No. He was cunning enough that at the first chance of being somewhat close to you, he used his mouth.
“You'll pay for that.” you inform him, trying to keep your features hardening and not to melt when Jungkook's lips stretch into a wide grin.
“For what?” he scoffs, “For almost making you cum?”
Ignoring the obvious and amused jab at you nearly losing it (when he's the one handcuffed), you nibble on your inner cheek.
“Come on, free me now. You had your fun.”
Your eye almost twitches at that.
“Lemme fuck you, you love it from behind, huh?”
Despite his nasty words leaving your stomach fluttering, more than it should, you don't let him get past your walls. You sigh, loud so he can hear it perfectly and maybe make him feel unsure of what's about to come. He stays silent. Watching you as you reach for your nightstand, you feel his eyes appreciating your nudity before they go back to wondering what you're doing.
You pull out the sex-toy he gifted you, the one you both used two or three times. His brows are pinched together, probably wondering what and who you're going to use it for.
Now, since you've never done this with Jungkook before, you being in full control which has proved to be debatable, you've no idea how he will possibly react. You can only assume. From being in an intimate relationship with Jungkook, you've learned a lot. Apart from the physical side of your own sexual preferences and desires, you've come to notice how Jungkook loves to feel you up. He loves to touch you, explore your body each time like he has never done before.
Even without having many sexual partners before, it's safe to say you've never felt more comfortable than being in Jungkook's hands. Quite literally. The way he touches you… he knows what he's doing.
Obviously, this is in a way a punishment for him. Actually, now that you think about it, you're not sure if he's doing it purely because you want to, or because of another reason.
So when you place yourself at the end of your bed, making sure you have enough space to lay down, you do exactly that. With one swift movement, you spread your legs apart, giving him a full on view on the thing he couldn't get enough of.
All cockiness is smeared off his face. And while triumph burns inside you – from this great achievement – a realization hits him.
“No.” he murmurs, watching the way you smirk as you turn on the sex-toy. You bring the fake imitation of cock to your clit, moaning at the vibration as soon as it touches you.
Bottom lip caught between your teeth, there's a clank resounding in front of you as your lips twitch. “I'm definitely having my fun now.”
“I was–I was just teasing. Come back here, baby.”
You should've probably taped his mouth shut. The freaking petname really tests your patience and determination.
“I'm serious.”
But he's ignored by you, at least you act like you can't hear him, enjoying the way he groans in protest. However, you can be just as teasing and you moan loudly, letting the dildo's tip enter you.
“Y/N,” he growls, “This is not funny.”
“Oh, fuck.”
You would have laughed if you weren't so focused. The truth is, you're sensitive down there – something that's caused by Jungkook and his always running mouth. As much as you itch to get to him and toss the sex-toy as far as possible, you don't give him that satisfaction. At least, not now.
“Who's in control now, Jeon?” you hum, opening your eyes clouded by both amusement and lust.
“Okay, I get it.” he grits through his teeth. “Come here.”
“Say it nicely and maybe I'll consider.”
If looks could kill, you're sure you would be six feet under. But one moment of leaning your head down, moaning out loud, you notice his jaw clenching before he clears his throat.
“Come here,” he says softly.
Cracking your eyes, you grin in achievement as you sit up. You're too impatient, you want to touch him. No scratch that. You want to feel him. You want him inside you. But you're playing your part in this act, making it seem as if you have all the time in the world.
You turn off the sex-toy, the one he probably mentally curses for buying, and you come closer to him. The expectation and despair on his face makes you want to laugh. He's cute. And freaking hot too.
His chest heaves, it glistens with a sheer coat of sweat. His cologne and scent that's glued to his skin has filled your bedroom. He watches you carefully, almost as if he expects you to tease him more. But when you sit back down on his thighs, facing him, he sighs in relief. His cock begs for attention and you give him a few pumps, ones that make his eyes flutter shut as he gets what he wants. Partly.
You leave the dildo next to you, planning on using it later as you glance at your nightstand. A look of surprise and then disappointment fills your face, one that Jungkook quickly questions.
“What?”
“I've got no condoms. You have some with you?”
Jungkook snickers, “You mean did I bring condoms with me when you decided to have a break from this ?”
You give him a glare, “I wasn't planning on having sex.”
“Do I look like I was?” he questions with a raise of his brow.
“Don't you have them with you most of the time?”
“Clearly not,” he rolls his eyes, “What's the issue anyways? I haven't had sex with anyone else.”
You're the one who rolls their eyes now, “You would be really quick if you have. It's been like a week since the trip.”
Deep down, you know Jungkook could've gone anywhere and had sex during this week. If he wanted to.
“And you know it's not about that.” you add.
“Let's end this with a bang. Since you know, we're not supposed to have sex then.”
“Are you mocking me?” you frown. He purses his lips to avoid smirking.
“What did you say? One last time?”
“You know, keep talking and I'm gonna finish myself in front of you.”
“Not what I had in mind but,” he acts as if he's thinking hard. “It would still be something. I love that cunt.”
Almost choking on your spit, you quickly recover. You need to wipe that smirk off his face. “Or I could just leave you here, handcuffed and naked.”
“You wouldn't!” he exclaims.
“Try me.”
He shakes his head with a disapproving frown. “We don't have that many options. Either raw or go to sleep.”
What are you even talking about? Your coincidence scolds you.
“You're right,” you say, already hovering. “I love this cock.” you tell him cheekily, watching his eyes widen just as you grab him by the base.
You bring it to your entrance, teasing him a little (and yourself too) but the glare he gives you just prolongs it. He lifts his hips, almost entering you and you gasp, giggling.
“Who's impatient now?”
“You're testing my patience right now.”
“If I were you, I wouldn't talk too much.” you hum, warning him cutely which causes his features to harden. Oh my god, perhaps you're enjoying this way more than you thought you would!
Despite everything, you don't want to deprive him and yourself of the pleasure. It's easier to give him one cheeky grin as you guide him to your entrance. His eyes dance across your exposed breasts, looking down at where you're about to connect. That's enough for you to slowly sink down his length, gritting your teeth from the immediate heat that swallows you whole.
Sex is amazing. But sex with Jungkook has shown you it's more than that.
You would've never thought how addicted you can become to this. Maybe it's a little too dangerous but you don't seem to care. Not at the moment anyway, not when he spreads your folds and stretches your warm and wet walls. Oh god.
It takes you a moment to fully sink down on him, his hard length settled inside of you as you feel every inch of him. Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. Though, he doesn't usher you to move and gives you space to get used to him. You swear you can feel him in your stomach.
Starting to roll your hips, your clit brushes against his pubes as his jaw tightens once again. That's not enough for him, but he doesn't voice the annoyance and frustration just yet. He lays his head down properly, dark eyes watching you and the way your body rolls.
You bite your bottom lip, momentarily closing your eyes just to open them and see him staring. “You like that, baby?” you joke, watching his hardening features turn into amused once as you both giggle.
“Baby?”
“You call me that too.”
“Mhm, I do.” he hums as you spread your palms over his chest and lean forward. “You love it.”
“Maybe a little bit too much.” you confess, laughing at your obvious confession.
And then you lift your hips, his cock rubbing against your wall which quickly wipes away his smirk. You let the head of his cock stay inside you, his entire length coated with your juices.
“Don't play with me,” he says. “This is torture.”
“Then beg.” you propose, watching his features turn into pure shock before they change into devastation.
It's funny. Makes you giggle all over again.
“What?”
“You heard me. Beg,” you grin, “Or what? Is that against your male ego?”
“You're so cruel,” he begs. “If I knew–Hey now!” he exclaims when you let him slide out of you, your lips curving into a smirk.
You get off him entirely, laying on your tummy beside him. Elbow leaned against the soft mattress, you prop up your chin on your palm. Jungkook groans, frustration getting the best out of him as you grab the vibration. Turning it on, you catch his attention as you press the vibrating tip against his hard cock. He flinches, cussing you out immediately.
“Yah!”
You laugh, “What? Does it hurt?”
“I don't know if you noticed, but I'm fucking hard and sensitive.” he grits through his teeth and you pout. “Just do something.”
Rolling your eyes, you turn off the sex-toy, playing into the little facade you created as you toss it away. Lifting yourself, you hoist your leg over his hips and face him with your back. He barely has any chance to react as you sink down on him again. This time, you actually move. He breathes out in relief.
“I knew you were a good girl.” he mutters, causing you to stop. “No, no. Continue.” he reacts immediately which makes you smile.
You hold your balance by gripping his legs, just below his knees as you start riding him. It's hard to focus on other things than just his cock inside you.
“Mhm, fuck.” You hear behind you, a soft moan leaving your own mouth when he hits your good spot.
You pick up your pace, your ass smacking against Jungkook's skin but when you start to feel the familiar heat gathering in your lower religion, you're forced to stop. You don't want to cum too soon. Jungkook whines, cursing under his breath.
“You're so whiny.” you comment, sending him a look of amusement across your shoulder.
He's frowning, mouth pouting without realizing as he tugs onto the handcuffs again. Realization hits him and that makes you laugh again. He forgot he's handcuffed and wanted to touch you.
“Just wait until you're done.” he threatens.
Ignoring the way your stomach tightens in excitement, you don't give him that satisfaction of recognizing his effect that he has on you. Instead, you turn around to face him, sitting back on his thighs as you lean toward him.
“One last time, remember?"
“You also said break and look at us now,” he bites back smartly. “When I asked you if you're gonna let me in, this wasn't what I had in mind. But I'm not complaining.”
You start tracing random patterns on his abs, they flex under your touch and you know he's holding himself back. “That would be awful if you were complaining.” you hum.
“Y/N,” he whines. “Just do something.”
“I told you. Beg… or ask nicely.” you hum, moving your finger up to his chest.
“Please,” he says dryly.
You lift your brow at him, giving him an unimpressed glare. “I said nicely.” you remind him.
He groans, almost ready to throw a tantrum. Oh, this is so much fun!
“Please, wanna fuck that pussy.”
You smile, leaning forward to get close to his face. His breath hitches as your lips hover over his. The faintest touch of them earns the corner of his lips before you pull away. You wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him a little before you put him inside you again. Jungkook hums and nods, obviously too joyful that you've finally listened. You don't waste any time, lifting your hips up and down as you ride him.
“This is what you wanted?”
“Fuck yes.” Jungkook breathes out, muscles tensing. “Fuck, that's it. Yeah, just like that.”
He says, forcing his eyes to stay open as he watches your breasts bouncing.
“Fuck, baby.”
Despite being fully engrossed in chasing your orgasm, you still smile in the midst of it.
You're close to cumming, stopping your movements shortly after which leaves Jungkook whining. Loud and clear.
“You were close, weren't you?” he teases after frustration slowly fades away.
“Shut up,” you bite.
“Come on. Fuck me. Please .” he begs softly.
Nibbling on your bottom lip, you comply and move your hips again. This time, you don't stop. You chase your orgasm while Jungkook coaxes you through it.
“That's right, use me.”
“You like this?” you breathe out, throwing your head back as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.
“I love it,” he corrects you. “I'm gonna miss this cunt so much.”
“Don't say that,” you croak out. “You're making me regret things.”
“No regrets,” he groans. “Fuck, yeah.” He moves his hips up, meeting your thrusts in the middle as you whimper.
A few more thrusts and one big from Jungkook, you come undone above him. The knot snaps inside you and your entire body stills as your walls start clenching and unclenching. Your juices drip down Jungkook's length, undoubtedly staining your sheets as well but that's the least of your worries.
Jungkook watches you come back to reality, eyes clouded with lust.
“You think you can go for round two?” he asks, watching you breathe out an audible chuckle.
You can.
Giving him a nod, you settle onto rubbing his chest softly while trying to catch your breath.
“Uncuff me,” he says, stealing all your attention once again – this time not caused by the usual charms of the man under you. “Just wanna touch you.” he adds, softly and with a pout.
“What if I don't want you to touch me?” you hum, starting to roll your hips again which makes him hiss.
He grunts, closing his eyes. “Don't lie to yourself.”
Regardless of both of you aware of the lie, you keep smiling knowing he's damn right.
“I'm not gonna do anything, I swear.” he promises, whining as your movements deepen.
Feeling like you could chase your second orgasm of the night, you reach behind you and put your hands on his thighs. Jungkook stares, eyes wide despite the evident desire and need.
“Holy fuck, you're gonna be the end of me.”
You giggle. You freaking giggle and Jungkook swears he's done for.
“You little minx,” he grunts. “You wanna make me cum without me touching you? That's fucking cruel.”
“I like to be cruel sometimes.” you tease.
As much as you wish his hands would be on you, touching you everywhere and the way only he can, this is so much fun.
While Jungkook's eyes are the only touch you can feel, the dark irises leave hot traces all over your skin, you enjoy his attention on you. It's no secret he alone brings you more confidence than he can ever imagine. Not to grow sentimental, especially right now and at this dirty moment, but for that you'll be forever grateful to him. You're scared for what's about to come in the future. You're too scared to think about it and you automatically shut down any hints of those thoughts coming up.
You enjoy this while you can.
After this, you want to focus on your friendship with him. It's for the best.
You could easily regret doing this with him right now. Especially after the idea of taking a break. In reality, you don't. There are no regrets as of now and you hope they won't come. You won't allow it.
“Play with your tits, baby. Show me,” Jungkook pants.
Having you slowly start to bounce on his cock again brings a rush of heat to every inch of his body. You obey, grasping your breasts into your palms while you squeeze to soft flesh. Jungkook whines and groans, clearly still frustrated he can't touch them or anything at this point.
“Pinch your nipples.” he orders, not full of dominance like you're perhaps used to, but full of desperation.
You moan as you listen to him, bringing more pleasure to your body as you imagine it's Jungkook's hands instead. Eyes closed yet again, you can't bring yourself to keep them open. Your muscles strain, lungs begging for more air as you feel your heartbeat drumming in your eardrums.
“Fuck,” you pant, “Think I'm gonna cum.” you force yourself to admit, totally clueless to Jungkook obviously seeing and feeling it.
“Rub your clit for me. Fuck.”
Hand reaching between your legs, it's a little tricky to fully obey as you're still bouncing on his cock, close to cumming. You still rub your clit, whimpering and stuttering things you can't remember. Whatever leaves your mouth blends with the sounds of skin slapping. One hand on Jungkook's abdomen, you make sure you stabilize yourself while the other works on your clit.
“Keep going, keep going,” Jungkook whimpers. “Please, please, please.”
You do. Your thighs burn but nothing won't stop you. Orgasm comes crashing down on you for the second time. Your walls clench around Jungkook's cock, sucking him dry as Jungkook warns you of his own approaching orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming.” he manages to get out.
Just in time, you barely make it and lift yourself as Jungkook's thick cum shoots up. The warm liquid lands on your pussy, some of it getting onto your lower belly trickling down your thighs.
Jungkook curses under his breath, head dropping down onto pillows as his chest heaves. Yours too. Dropping down next to him, there's no care in the world as you both try to come back to your senses.
After a minute of harsh breathing fading, Jungkook comments. “Almost didn't make it.”
Looking at him, you both grin at each other. “I made it.”
He scoffs playfully, amused by your confidence. He's restrained, therefore it would be completely your fault if he came inside you.
“Gonna uncuff me now?”
“Oh shit.” you curse, sitting up as you grab the key off your nightstand, leaning forward to uncuff Jungkook's wrists.
As soon as you do, Jungkook's arms shoot down as the pair of pink fluffy handcuffs land on your floor. You watch him rub his wrists, frowning before looking at you as you shoot him a sheepish grin.
“You enjoyed that?”
“Probably more than I thought I would.” you giggle.
Jungkook's lips twitch. “At least one of us did.”
“You came, didn't you?” you raise your brow at him. “I'm receiving no complaints then.”
He laughs, sitting up as he cracks his neck. Looking down at his crotch and around the bed, he cringes a little. “Made a mess.”
“It's fine, I'm gonna clean that up. Go take a shower.” you point toward the door.
“You sure?” he asks, cocking his brow at his cum sticking to your skin.
“Yeah,” you laugh, reaching for the wipes that are beside your bed. You clean yourself, ushering Jungkook to use your bathroom while you take care of this mess.
Knowing there's no point in arguing, he still with an unsure look starts to get out of your bed. What he doesn't expect though is a slap delivered on his buttcheek. He turns around, shocked with mouth agape as he shoots you a look.
“What does it feel like?” you tease, biting onto your lower lip as he shakes his head, fighting back a grin. Too bad, you catch a good glimpse of it.
“You're lucky this is over.” he tells you, ruffling his raven hair.
You're not sure if lucky is the right word to describe it, though it works for what he has in mind. And god, you're so close to calling this break off. Desperate and foolish.
But since he talks about luck, it seems like it's on your side this time considering he turns around and leaves the room before you can make another rash decision.
You decide to finish the movie after you're both cleaned, and so is your bedroom with fresh sheets. Everything goes back to normal, both of you acting as if you haven't had sex a few minutes ago. Ignoring the way every inch your skin feels like it's been electrified.
Jungkook's body takes most of the space in your bed eventually, the entire bedroom swallowed in darkness as chilly air fans your thin curtains. No scent of sex anymore just like there is no trace of your previous doings. The only proof lives in both of you now.
“Back to best friends?” Jungkook asks behind you, his arm outstretched just above your head.
“Back to best friends.” you confirm, ignoring the sentiment behind your tone.
“Don't tell anyone that I–”
“That I had you handcuffed and you whined?”
“Yah!”
Cackling, you look across your shoulder as if you could see him. “Are you ashamed of it?” you tease.
“Taehyung wouldn't let me live if he knew.”
You both laugh quietly.
“Can you rub my back now?” you say after a while.
Jungkook snickers, sighing as he gets on his side facing your back. His hand is on your back, scratching and rubbing gently as you hum in pleasure.
“Shouldn't you be the one who's rubbing my back? Y'know because of what you've put me through tonight.” he grumbles, causing you to smile into your pillow.
“Didn't you enjoy it?”
“I couldn't touch you.” he says as if that answers everything.
You still keep smiling, not being able to fight it back. “But other than that?”
He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to look behind you again. He hears the sheets rustling. “I came, didn't I?”
Somehow, that answers your question and you hum, lullying yourself to sleep – with the help of Jungkook's hands and touch of course. However, with a serious realization of what the fuck are you going to do now.
#networkbangtan#ksmutclub#ficswithluv#btswritingcafe#jungkook x reader#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#bts au#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#personasintro
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campfire games
luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians
[established relationship, fem!daughter of ares reader]
summary: bets are fun, until they aren’t. you’re fine though. luke knows you’re an absolute badass.
warning: pushy male behaviour, suggestive comments, swearing, bets, threats, assault (physical), sexual harassment.
word count: 1.6k
(help i’m writing too many of these but this is the only other good one also feel free to leave requests yall i’m on summer break i have so much time and need something to do 🤩🤩)
(also i am still in love with luke castellan thank you very much I CAN FIX HIM PLSSSS)
(also very sorry to anyone named andrew it was the first name i thought of)
——————————————————
there wasn’t much that your siblings in the ares cabin liked more than winning capture the flag, but watching you tear down another boys’ ego was definitely one of those few things.
campfires were great for many reasons. singing, marshmallows, games—and bets. when chiron and mr d. turned in for the night early, something that rarely happened, the bets would come out. guys would try and talk to you, your siblings would intercept them, find out what they wanted, then place bets among themselves and with other campers as to how long it would take you to tear them down a few notches, or, on occasion, tear them a new one.
clarisse patted your shoulder as two of your brothers talked to another camper. “incoming.”
“details?” you picked at the chipped red polish of your fingernails.
“son of apollo. been here for about two months. andrew. something about wanting to go on a date with you and thinking you’re prettier than the aphrodite girls.” she rolled her eyes. “he tried it on with me before and doesn’t like taking no for an answer, so break his spirit completely. or, you know, his bones.”
you saluted her teasingly. “yes, ma’am. you can count on me, sergeant.”
she patted your shoulder again with a joking grin. “good on you, private. godspeed.”
with that, she left you sitting alone.
well, not really alone.
luke castellan had somehow ended up as your bodyguard in all of these cases. probably something to do with the fact that you’d been dating in secret for the last three months. you weren’t a huge fan of keeping your relationship a secret, but when you’d told clarisse, she told you that her and your other siblings wanted to keep making easy money, and betting on me was the best way to do that. since everyone thought you and luke hated each other anyway, it was easy enough to keep it up, but as your mocking remarks turned to teasing, then to flirting, it was getting more and more difficult. and as he was getting more attractive each day, it was getting harder not to kiss him in front of everyone at camp.
you swivelled in your seat to look up at him. he was sitting three rows back, almost hidden in the darkness, a distinctly put out look on his face.
“you hear that?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a grin on your face. “he thinks i’m prettier than the aphrodite girls. when have you ever said that?”
“i told you you’re prettier than a model one time and you punched me,” he said dryly. “and then i said you look like a goddess while fighting and you punched me again.”
“in my defence, i did hate you at the time.” you shrugged. “got my back?”
“always.” he said seriously.
you grinned and winked at him as you turned around, waiting for the newest idiot to come annoy you.
luke had, once upon a time, been one of those idiots in your mind. he irritated you to no end. he was better than you at sword fighting, so you bested him at everything else. he was more popular than you, so you became one of the most well-liked people at camp. all of your attempts to break him down, however, only made him fall in love with you. now, there you were, wishing you could be sitting beside him instead of waiting for some loser to come annoy you to death.
“y/n, hey.” andrew said, sitting next to you, probably a little too close.
you looked over at him. “andrew, right?”
he nodded, his smile widening as you knew his name.
you sat up straighter and scrutinised him, looking him up and down. “yeah, you look like an andrew.”
you heard luke hide a laugh in his cup behind you.
andrew’s face fell a little, but he regained it quickly. “heard you were one of the best fighters in camp.”
“i am.”
“that’s pretty cool. i mean, i can help you become the best if you want.”
“no, i think i’m okay.”
“come on, i mean, everyone needs to improve. even the self-proclaimed best. bet i’m better at archery than you at least.”
you looked over at his smirk and had to stop yourself from smirking too. this would be too easy. “no. thanks, though. i’m good on my own. one of the best, remember.”
“you could be better. we should have a little challenge. a game.”
“i only play games with people i like.”
“you could like me.” he leaned a little closer. you leaned away slightly. “i bet i could make you like me.”
you had to stop yourself from laughing. “yeah, i don’t think so, buddy.”
‘buddy’ was usually all it took to break a man’s ego. you’d used it on luke many times during unusually flirtatious sparring, back when you still pretended to hate his guts. it didn’t work on him anymore, but it usually worked perfectly on everyone else.
andrew didn’t falter. “i bet i could. give me a chance. let me take on a date. show you a good time.”
“no, thanks,” you said calmly. your siblings were watching intently. clarisse looked ready to step in if you needed it. you wondered what he’d said or done to her to put her on edge. then you realised it wasn’t what he’d done to her. it was what he was about to do to you.
his hand was on your thigh, gripping onto the bare skin by the hem of your shorts.
his hand was on your thigh.
gross.
you looked up at him, eyes sharp. you could hear luke shifting slightly behind you. “what are you doing?” you voice was deathly calm.
“showing you that i can show you a good time, princess.” his voice oozed honey—sickly sweet and sticky, like a fly trap. good thing you hated honey.
“how about i show you how many bones there are in the hand? by breaking every single one.” your voice was equally as saccharine sweet, but your eyes were glaring daggers into his and your jaw was set tight.
he just shifted his hand higher. you tried to push him off but he was strong. annoyingly strong.
he tutted. “come on, sweetheart. you’re gonna make a scene.”
you finally managed to peel his hand off your skin. “i’ll make a scene, alright. get off me and leave me alone. and while you’re at it, leave my sister alone too.”
he raised his hands, a sickening, sleazy smirk on his face. “i was just being nice, princess. you and your sister need to relax. you especially. i can help you relax.”
“oh, i’d love that. you know how i relax?” you tilted your head mockingly, eyes hard. “i punch my enemies in the face.”
he laughed. “you’re cute. now, come on. it’s not like you’ve got anything going for yourself. i mean, you’re hot, sure, but no guys ever gonna look at you when they realise how much of a bitch you are. not like i will.”
you rolled your eyes and stood up. it was time to go and sit by luke. it grated at you, but if he wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he’d listen to another guy.
he didn’t let you leave. his hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him as he stood up too. you were chest to chest with him. he towered over you, at least six inches taller. you stepped back, but he pulled you in by your waist and laughed.
“look at how good we look together,” he smirked. “i could show you—“
you punched him in the stomach. he doubled over, finally letting you go, so you kneed his diaphragm. he gasped for air as you stepped back. your friend chris rodriguez whistled appreciatively.
“touch me, or anyone here, ever again and i won’t just hurt you.” you hissed at him. “i’ll beat your ass, then i’ll drag you past the boundary and leave you for the monsters. got it?”
he nodded, still hunched over.
“good boy,” you grit out.
“fucking bitch,” he grunted.
your eyes darkened, but you didn’t do anything. your siblings were right behind him, all ready to drag him away. “good luck walking tomorrow, andrew.”
“good luck finding a guy stupid enough to fuck you,” he scorned.
you laughed. “hey, luke?”
“yeah, babe?” he stepped down beside you, his hand settling on your hip and pulling you gently into his side. andrew faltered at the sight. he probably hadn’t even realised luke was up there.
“are you stupid enough to fuck me?” you asked with raised eyebrows.
he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “oh, i’m way past stupid.”
you didn’t care about any of your sibling’s bets anymore. you didn’t care that people thought you hated each other. you especially didn’t care that everyone was watching. you kissed him. and in front of the whole camp, he kissed you back.
your siblings groaned in disappointment, knowing their betting days were over, but you didn’t care. you smiled the stupidest smile ever as you pulled away, feeling like you’d just had your first kiss all over again.
“what?” he asked quietly.
“nothing.” you shook your head. “just glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”
after months of kissing behind buildings, pretending to fight in public and avoiding each other so people wouldn’t find out, it felt honestly freeing to kiss him in the open.
he kissed you again as your siblings dragged andrew away. “and all it took was an asshole.”
“thanks for not stepping in,” you said. “i had it handled.”
“oh, i know you did. i was more than happy to watch you destroy his ego.”
“good, because if you had stepped in—“
“i’d be going home in an ambulance?” he smiled.
“no, you’d be going home in a hearse.”
“ah, my bad.”
as the campfire kept burning, you sat down with luke. your legs were pressed against his and his arm was around your waist. there wasn’t much that you liked more than tearing boy’s egos down, but being with luke castellan was definitely one of those few things.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo x reader#pjo#charlie bushnell#luke castellan x you
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Let Me Love You Like A Woman
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.
a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey
******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT
warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.
And unknown places scare you.
There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.
You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.
You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.
It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.
She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.
“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.
You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.
Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.
That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.
She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.
As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.
“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”
Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”
You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.
“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.
“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.
Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.
“We have a mission for the two of you.”
“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”
The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.
Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.
“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.
Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.
“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”
Chiron presses his lips together.
“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.
“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”
Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.
Clarisse looks at you.
“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”
—-
“Y/N.”
You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.
You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.
Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.
But, Chiron needed to like you too.
You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.
It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.
She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.
She smiles.
“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”
“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.
If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.
And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.
Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.
“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”
Her face hardens.
“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”
You rip your hand away from her grip.
“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”
“You’re crazy!”
—-
You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.
She looks up from her book and laughs.
“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.
“Mission,” you groan.
She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”
“With Clarisse.”
She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.
As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.
She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.
“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
You put your lips right up to her ear.
“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”
“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”
“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”
“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”
“It’s fine,” you mumble.
“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”
“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”
She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.
She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.
The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.
You put your hand on her face.
“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”
What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?
You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.
Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.
And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.
She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.
She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.
You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.
She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.
You look into Marley’s eyes now.
“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”
Marley kisses your cheek.
“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”
“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.
Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.
You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.
—-
The bus ride is boring.
Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.
But you’re bored.
You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.
It’s only been two months.
As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.
You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.
You miss her.
“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.
“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”
Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”
“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”
“What?”
Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.
“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”
“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”
She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.
She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.
But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.
“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”
“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.
—-
You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.
Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.
You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.
“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”
You realize your head is on her shoulder.
You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.
“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.
You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.
She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.
She’s right up in your ear.
“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”
The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.
You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.
“I’d kill it.”
You both know you probably couldn’t.
She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”
Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.
She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.
She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.
“Hm, mine.”
You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.
You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?
It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.
You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”
Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.
—-
You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.
“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.”
In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.
You can want her, here, where no one will know.
You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.
The station is oddly busy.
You have this horribly uneasy feeling.
You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.
She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.
You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.
But you trust yourself.
“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.
She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.
She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.
“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”
“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.
Why is she so fucking confusing?
As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?
She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.
You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.
“Clarisse.”
She seems to see it too.
“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.
She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”
When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.
You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.
Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.
The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.
You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.
It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.
That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.
The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.
Something slams against the door.
You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.
“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.
The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.
It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.
“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.
“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.
Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.
You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”
It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.
The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-
Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.
It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.
It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.
You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.
She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-
You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.
No one would know.
Her spear falls to the floor.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.
No one would know.
“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”
“No problem,” she says.
No one would know.
“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.
“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.
It’s so simple.
You both can get what you want from this trip.
“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”
“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.
You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.
You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.
You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.
No one else will ever come close.
“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”
She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.
—-
The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.
Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.
How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?
You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.
She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.
—-
The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.
You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.
When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.
“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.
You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.
“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.
—-
The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.
“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.
“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.
Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.
Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.
You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.
“On your left!”
Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.
“Asshole,” you mutter.
“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.
Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.
She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.
“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.
“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.
“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”
Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.
Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.
“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”
“Yeah, okay.”
—-
Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.
“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.
You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”
She stares at you for a moment.
“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.
Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.
Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.
“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.
It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.
“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”
She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.
“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.
“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.
She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.
“What are you thinking of getting?”
She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”
You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”
She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.
“What was that?”
She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.
You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.
Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.
“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”
You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.
You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.
“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.
“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”
“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”
“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”
The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.
“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”
“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”
You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.
You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.
“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.
—-
“Clarisse.”
She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.
“Clarisse,” you repeat.
She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.
“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”
“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”
“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.
—-
Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.
You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.
You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.
You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.
You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.
It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?
“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.
You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”
She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.
“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.
“Don’t be mean.”
You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.
“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.
“I. Don’t. Care.”
She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.
You whip around and point your finger at her.
“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”
Her smile falls.
“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”
Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.
—-
When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.
You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.
“Y/N.”
You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.
“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”
You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.
Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.
“A toy?”
“What else was I supposed to think?”
She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.
“I’m sorry.”
Your breathe hitches.
“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”
She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.
“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”
It’s silent for a moment.
“I want you to let me love you.”
She lets go of your hand.
“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”
“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.
“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”
You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”
“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”
You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.
But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.
She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.
Your fingers dig into her back.
“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.
—-
“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.
Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.
You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.
Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.
It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.
You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.
Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.
You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.
He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.
“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.
Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”
Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.
Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.
Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.
“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.
—-
marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.
clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟
—-
clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO
—-
honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n
another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish
@sincerely-silk @lacytalks
—-
pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
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Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his shy gender neutral crush accidentally sitting on his lap? They get off immediately while apologising the moment they realised!
A/N - Ahhhhh this prompt idea is so adorable ;-;!!!!!
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Masterlist
Art commissions
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Astarion -
~ Astarion would definitely not let you forget something like this.
~ After a particularly hard day full of fighting, I can see the whole camp deciding to relax and pass around one or two (or a case) of wine.
~ The alcohol goes straight to your head and you’re tripping over your feet in no time. This isn’t a problem, that is until… you stumble and trip your way right into Astarion’s lap
~ Your cheeks get all red, your words coming out with a plethora of excuses and Astarion basks in your embarrassment with glee.
~ He’s secretly loving it for another reason, that being the closeness of you against him now. You’ve been much too shy up to this point to even look him in the eye, let alone touch him
~ You’re falling over yourself trying to get up, apologizing more times than anyone can count and of course Astarion has all the petty things anyone could ever say
~ “If you wanted a place on my lap, you need only ask, darling.”
~ He loves it even more the next morning when he notices that now you can’t even look in his general direction without turning a beautiful shade of red
Gale -
~ Gale would be all jokes if you accidentally sat on him, trying his best to ease the awkward tension
~ “You know, I always thought I looked like an awkwardly plush chair” he would tease, lending a hand to help you up
~ I think he would love the flush to your cheeks, knowing you’re absolutely mortified by the experience.
~ He wouldn’t tell a soul about it, not even in jest. He knows how shy you are and knows the accident would only embarrass you further if your other companions caught wind of it, even if part of him wanted to brag
~ Instead, he would playfully point out ever tripping hazard while with you, leaving it an inside joke between the two of you
Wyll -
~ I can definitely see you losing your balance while practicing a difficult attack, landing right into the Devil’s lap
~ Wyll would be as charming as ever about the whole situation, making a dramatic flourish as he “caught you”
~ He’d probably rave on and on about how the ‘Blade of the Frontiers’ often had to catch damsels in distress as they fell into his awaiting arms. Everyone else may think this was because he was a braggart, but you knew deep down he did it to ease your embarrassment
~He would definitely be kind enough to ignore your reddened cheeks, whispering that everything was absolutely alright as you shot up practically shouting an “I’m sorry”
~ From that moment on, though, he always made sure to be the closest one to you, making sure he’d be there if you needed a knight in shining armor’s lap to save you again
Halsin -
~ You would be immensely tired after a long day of traveling, not even looking where your feet planted as you plopped down on what you thought was a log.
~ You practically jump out of your skin when strong arms wrap around you casually, Halsin continuing on his conversation with the others as if nothing happened
~ You would feel the red hot embarrassment in every nerve of your body, hissing to Halsin to let go, apologizing for sitting on him
~ He would cling on for a few moments, letting out a deep chuckle at your blunder
~ “Think nothing of it, my heart, I simply thought you wanted to sit somewhere softer than the ground. Would you prefer to sit on me if I were a bear?”
~ You couldn’t even answer him, smacking his chest and jumping out of his arms
~ Thank goodness it was dark, you wouldn’t want anyone seeing the goofy smile on your face paired with the knowing grin on the gentle giant elf
Dammon -
~ Dammon would be so generously kind as you accidentally sat on him, helping you back up, worried he made you uncomfortable
~ He would definitely be the only one to be more embarrassed than you, his cheeks the exact same shade of red. He’d try to play it off, but the cracks in his voice gave it away immediately
~ Both of you would be an adorable mess of apologies and stutters, trying to ignore how nice it was to be that close only moments earlier.
~ He would finally clear his throat, trying to change the subject as the red in his cheeks began to even seep down to his neck.
~ You both finally relaxed a little, smiling relieved smiles
~ That is until a very loud, very obvious Astarion would gesture between the two of you, “When the hell are you two going to finally admit you like each other! Seriously, this is getting difficult to watch”
~ It would take days before the you and Dammon could make it through a conversation without sounding like a bumbling lovesick kit after that
Rolan -
~ If anyone could be more awkward than Dammon when you sat on his lap, it would absolutely be Rolan. Apparently the invisibility spell he was trying out worked a little too well.
~ You would let out a shriek as you sat down, expecting the chair to feel… well… like a chair. You spun around to an apologetic smile and hands held up in defense
~ Both of you would choke out an “im sorry” at the same time, giggling a little breathlessly
~ “What the hell were you doing as a chair?” You’d complain, trying to swallow away the embarrassment, not knowing it was written across all of your features
~ “We’ll, technically, I wasn’t a chair” He’d say defensively, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of his already crimson skin
~ Neither of you spoke of it after, but you definitely didn’t miss the way Rolan seemed extra attentive in the days after
Zevlor -
~ Zevlor would be sickly sweet about all of it, a little disappointed when you didn’t stay for more than a moment
~ You’d make up for that when your sweet quiet voice would squeak out some apologies, eyes looking anywhere but him. He so very loved when you were embarrassed like this
~ He’d brush it off quickly, pulling up your hand to kiss it gently
~ This would make you blush more but that was probably his whole goal to begin with
~ “I’m completely at your disposal.” He’d say, taking every opportunity to memorize the shy smile you gave him
#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 headcanons#bg3 zevlor#zevlor x reader#astarion x you#bg3 astarion#gale x reader#bg3 gale#wyll x reader#bg3 wyll#halsin x reader#bg3 halsin#dammon x reader#bg3 dammon#rolan x reader#bg3 rolan
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Sin Summer (Ghost)
Rating: E (MDNI)
Words: 3.8k
Tags: Ghost x f!reader, tinder au, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, fingering, dirty talk, meet and fuck, pwp, reader sleeps around and no one blames them
Summary: You finally meet up with your faceless tinder guy and he quickly takes the number 1 spot on your hookup list.
a/n: When I say nothing is abandoned I mean NOTHING.
Part 1, Part 3
You're a little nervous when Saturday rolls around, but not any more nervous than you usually are. You're meeting in a public place, and if things break bad you can always scream. Hell if things break good Ghost promised to have you screaming. So one way or the other you get to be loud.
You don't even know who you're looking for, standing outside the bar and waiting for someone to... grab you? Usually you have a photo and can look around but Ghost was insistent that wasn't going to happen. You stare at your phone, at the open tinder dm and the promise from Ghost that he'd find you. He better not be a catfish or you're going to have to do some serious soul searching on your ability to be fooled on this app.
A large firm hand touches your shoulder and you quiet your startle response to something more reasonable for someone camped outside a bar.
"Easy love," his voice is so deep and rough, you pray this is Ghost, because you have to hear this voice dirty talk you. You have to look up to meet his eye. Which is just about the only thing you can meet since he's wearing a mask. You recognize the bottom of it, sort of, from one of his pictures. If nothing else the skeletal jaw print sort of lends itself to a name like Ghost.
"Ghost?" You ask hesitantly, if it's not him you'll sound like an idiot but the way his brows raise at your question give the same answer his voice does.
"The one and only."
"Faceless in person too, huh?" You really don't know what to say, never know what to say at the initial meeting. You both know what you're here for, but it's not like you can really say it.
"Try to be. Still got a mouth under here though, don't you worry." You feel the heat bloom over your cheeks at the same time you notice his eyes crease at the corners. You think he might be teasing you.
"You pull it up to drink I guess," you fish for something to say. Ghost shakes his head.
"Only comes off for one thing tonight sweetheart, and it's not drinking." His voice, God his voice, you think he could read the ingredients on a shampoo bottle and you'd get off on it. Your stomach clenches, eyes darting to his army fatigues. You really hope those are just for fashion.
"What the fuck are we at a bar for then?" You ask a little breathless. Ghost stares up at the bar sign.
"Gotta at least pretend I'm a gentleman," he tells you, "you said we were near your hotel, yeah?"
You grab his hand and very nearly drag him back to your hotel. Fuck it. If he is army you're not getting fucked in a barrack when you've got a perfectly good mattress at the hotel. You're sure he'd appreciate a shower with just the two of you in it as well. If he even wants to spend the night... do you want him to spend the night? If it means morning sex then absolutely.
It turns out Ghost's mask goes up for more than one thing, though you're given very strict instructions to keep your eyes closed for at least half of them.
Eyes closed when he kisses you. His hands are so big, rough with scars and callouses when they cup your face and tip your head back. You think you feel scars on his lips too, the softness of them cut with a raised lines of something, but you can't bother paying too much attention to them. His kissing leads you to believe some very promising things about his head. Lips sliding against yours firm and hungry before you try to get a breath in and he doesn't let you, deepening the kiss with an insistent tongue that makes your head spin from more than just lack of oxygen.
You love a confidant man. A man who kisses you like you're all that he wants, that he needs. You both know you're more than willing, but he still kisses you like you need convincing. His tongue slides against yours, licks into your mouth; he groans when you suck on the wet muscle. Ghost makes a quiet noise into the kiss, soft and a little desperate. You don't know if you'd considered how much he might want you when you'd started this.
"Ghost," you sigh when his lips leave yours and attach themselves to your neck. He hesitates, like it's the first time he's heard his name said like that, before diving in to bite you, hard. You tip your head back further with a gasp, the ache of his teeth against your skin makes you squirm, makes heat pool between your legs. You shiver as his tongue rolls over the bruise, his hands tugging at the bottom of your tee. You're careful to keep your eyes closed when he lifts it over your head. "Pants too," you hum.
"Don't gotta remind me," he tells you, fingers already skimming your belt. He barely gets it undone before he pushes his hand into your pants. His tongue clicks admonishingly, fingers skimming your wet panties. You do your best not to follow the firm strokes. "You're really desperate for me, aren't you?" His low tone hits you right where his fingers do. You're glad you're looking at the ceiling and not him, the way he makes your skin heat.
"You're my type," you tell him honestly, hips following the rub of his fingers. Screw it, if he's going to tease you, you're going to enjoy it.
"You should get better taste." You wish you could argue with that, but considering who you brought home he's probably right. You settle on humming, not willing to make a solid noise of agreement or disagreement when he's got his hand down your pants.
You close your eyes when he moves, when he hauls you up to position on the bed. His hand covers your eyes, warm and calloused, and big. It's firm, steadfast, you're almost enjoying the makeshift blindfold situation. Ghost's lips latch onto one of your nipples, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardening bud. The heat of his mouth makes you squirm, the bite of his teeth just at the edge of too hard. He sucks and laves his tongue over you like he can't get enough of the feeling. You let a whine slip free and he moves his attention to the other one.
His fingers rub you through your underwear, working you up to soaking with practiced precision. Three firm fingers dragging up and down your slit, stopping to circle your clit with each stroke. It's warm pressure that makes your hips cant, chasing the movement. He's teasing you, keeping you just at the edge of eager while he enjoys himself with your breasts. You squirm a little and his touch slides further up to occupy itself with the waistband of your panties. You pull your legs up to help him get them off.
Ghost seems to switch gears as soon as they're gone. His hand leaving your eyes to grip under your knees, settling your legs on either side of him and pushing them up towards your chest. He trails his mouth down your stomach, nipping and licking at the soft skin, leaving his mark against your hip before he slips between your legs.
Keeping your eyes closed makes it hard not to flinch when his tongue drags over your slit. Broad strokes as he tastes you, his fingers spread you open so he can wiggle it between your folds and you press your hips into his touch. The hot drag of his tongue as it circles your hole makes you squirm, which makes him chuckle, deep and dark.
"You want me to hold you down?" He offers, the sound of his voice making heat rush over your skin. You shake your head and feel his broad shoulders shrug, you slide your legs over them and squeeze your thighs around his head. You feel him turn and bury his teeth in the soft flesh of your thigh.
It distracts him, you think, when he releases his teeth he runs his tongue along your skin, kissing and sucking at your thigh. His lips are appreciative, even when you squeeze him again. He's teasing you, he's so close to where you want him, working you up without ever touching your pussy. Your stomach jumps, warmth from his breath ghosting against your wet cunt. "I know baby," He groans, "gorgeous-" He cuts himself off, his lips pressing against your leg again before they leave you.
You almost open your eyes again when he fastens his mouth over your clit. You're so on edge waiting for him to touch you that you curl into his mouth, your fingers gripping his short cropped hair. His tongue rolls over your clit sending shocks up your spine. Your stomach jumps and you gasp as he sucks at your cunt, tugging at your clit and kissing your slit. He stirs heat in the pit of your stomach with each stroke of his tongue. Ghost's mouth is like a furnace, one that seems desperate to avoid parting from you. You hardly get a break from his insistent tongue, the sucking kisses, and the groans of deep satisfaction.
Ghost doesn't stop for a second, and the constant attention winds itself tight in the pit of your stomach. You whine, tug at his hair to pull his mouth closer, to keep that delicious suction that makes you want to writhe. He hums around your clit as you feel pressure build quick, before you can even warn him. Your whining grows more insistent as everything goes tight then spasms against his tongue as you come. Ghost doesn't give you a break, tongue stroking your clit as you clench and shake under him.
You jerk your hips when you feel his thick finger circling your hole, and his mouth leaves you. Only long enough to click his tongue and settle a hand on your stomach. He pushes your hips down against the bed, and eases his finger into your still fluttering cunt. "Gotta open you up love, relax." He tells you.
His finger is thick, thicker than some of the guys you've slept with, and you let out a soft noise at the gentle stretch. Ghost hums his encouragement, pumping his finger in and out of your cunt. He kisses your thigh again; you tip your head ever so slightly down and he clicks his tongue again. "Eyes up," He reminds you. You tip your head back, though you ache to get a look at the mouth that so expertly took you apart. The mouth that seems to still be trying to take you apart, because as soon as your head is back he's licking your clit again.
Your too sensitive, you have to force yourself to stay still, though his hand holding you down helps. You can hear the wetness between your legs, from his mouth, from his fingers, from your drooling cunt. Ghost hardly gives you a moment to adjust to the feeling, crooking his finger to stroke against your walls while he sucks. You clench around his finger and feel his tongue lap a broad stroke over your cunt in return. He waits for you to relax again before easing a second finger into you.
The burn of the stretch, just a bit too soon, is perfect. His fingers tug at your hole, sliding slickly in and out of you. It's just enough to make you feel full without filling you. Fuck it's good. Ghost strokes your walls, his fingers easing the stretch with gentle movements. He presses up against your soft spot and you let out a breath. You can hear the smile in his voice when he mumbles,
"There she is."
It's the only warning you get before his fingers are thrusting into you with a purpose. Short, quick, and precise, hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. Your stomach jumps and you clench around his fingers. He sits back, his hand leaving your stomach to hold your legs up, keep you from gaining any leverage as your back arches and you moan. He seems to have a direct line to your pleasure center. Each stroke of his fingers tightens in the pit of your stomach and makes your hips squirm to try and get away from the unrelenting jab of his hand. He's quick and experienced, and your legs shake over his shoulders.
You suppose it should be a relief when he removes his fingers just before you come a second time, and settles your feet on the bed. "Wanna watch you squirm," Ghost's voice is rough, deeper than you've heard it before. His fingers are the same, only this time when you try to get away from them he follows you. You were already on edge but this pushes you over. You buck and squirm, forcing him to fuck his fingers into you harder and faster until you shake apart with a shout and a flood of wetness. It coats your thighs, you know it coats his hand. It makes him groan. It doesn't make him stop. "Again," He tells you, his fingers still working you up quick. You don't have time to recover, your legs only pull up against your chest, desperate to curl in on yourself as the pleasure turns to pain and then pleasure again.
You come with your head thrown back and your fingers gripping the sheets. You shudder as it rips through you without warning, and once again coats Ghost's hand. He draws his fingers from you, and you hear him suck them clean. Somehow the sound makes you shiver.
Catching your breath takes priority over trying to sneak another peak at your partner for the night. You're sticky with sweat, three orgasms in, and you haven't even been fucked yet. You're buzzing just at the edge of enough. A good dick would make your night. To your side you hear the rustle of fabric being discarded. Ghost getting undressed you assume.
"Can look if you want," Ghost's voice is ever so slightly muffled, and when you do tip your head to find him he has his mask on again. You must look confused, because he shakes his head with a chuckle, and glances down to unclasp his belt. "Wanna look you in the eye," He explains, "Hard to do that with your eyes closed."
It's hard to look him in the eye anyway when he looks like that. Your eyes scour over the swell of well maintained muscle and the soft layer of fat that covers it. There are scars too, a whole host of them. They cover every inch of him, slashed over his chest, stabbed in his side, bullet holes in his shoulder and thick biceps. If you had any doubt this man saw combat it was gone now. He must be military, maybe special forces, it explains the mask.
Ghost pushes his pants down and you... well you need to rethink some things.
In your experience men who are criminally good at giving head are making up for something. Men who know how to "open you up" even more so. You swallow looking at the cock hanging between his legs, so long and heavy that it didn't spring up when he shucked his boxers. His fingers wrap around it, giving it a few good strokes with your slick as lube, and you watch the motion hungrily. He's not compensating for anything, he's just a great lay.
"How do you want me," You ask, eyes focused on the movement of his cock as he bends to grab a box from his discarded pants. He hums, tugging a length of condoms out and ripping one off.
"I'll move ya," He responds, rolling the rubber over his dick. A little shiver rushes down your spine, you like a man who knows what he's doing.
Ghost does, in fact, move you. He grabs your hips and drags you to the edge of the bed, the movement so quick and self assured it makes you giggle. His eyes crease at the edges, he's smiling you think, and he keeps smiling as he settles a knee on the bed next to you. You're quick to wrap your legs around his hips, and he's just as quick to pull them off and settle them over his arms. His big hands knead at your thighs, the extra leverage lining you up perfectly with his cock. Despite the angle, you're not using any muscles to hold yourself up, that's kind of him. Less kind when he positions himself at your entrance and tells you,
"Need you to be a good girl and take it," You gasp as he pushes into you, splitting you open more than his fingers could ever hope to, "Think you can do that?" You nod quickly, warmth dripping like honey to pool in the pit of your stomach. He didn't stretch you enough, but you think that might be the point. The ache of his cock stretching you open lets you feel every fat inch of it, every vein that drags against your walls, eased by the slick of your orgasms. Your eyes roll a little when he stops and pulls out a little. You whine, clenching to try and keep him inside, to keep that delicious stretch. Ghost groans, swears under his breath and shakes his head.
You should have anticipated him thrusting the last few inches inside. The hard thrust slapping his hips against yours forces a moan out of you. You arch in his hold, shivery, and glance between your legs as he gives you just a moment to adjust. The thick curls around his cock brush against your overworked clit and you do your best not to squirm. Not that you have much opportunity to squirm when Ghost fucks his weight down onto you. Each deep thrust hitting something achingly good inside you that makes you moan and claw at the arms holding you.
Your brows draw together looking at Ghost, he holds your gaze, his eyes piercing, dark and hungry. He's almost daring you to look away as he pounds into you. You're pinned under him, your legs forced back as he leans over you and treats you to a fountain of praise: "squeezin' me so good," "takin' it so well," "pretty little whore," "made for my cock." Your eyes roll back, the hot punch of his cock against your cervix almost too much for you. He told you to take it, you can be good for him, let him use you after he got you off so many times. That doesn't stop your legs from shaking or your voice from screaming.
There's something covetous in his eyes, something animalistic in the way he fucks you. This round is just for him, and you can take it. You tip your head back, trying to arch your back. Ghost releases his hold on your thighs and grabs you by the back of the neck, folding you back onto his cock. "No, no, sweetheart," He rumbles, leaning to press his forehead against yours, "told you, you gotta take it. Show me how a proper slag gets fucked."
Somehow this angle makes his thrusts more precise, and you truly cannot move to try and escape. You can hardly breathe, his cock fucking all the air out of your lungs. His pace just keeps getting faster, and you can see the way sweat sticks to his brow. You dig your fingers into his biceps, his thighs, anywhere you can try to get a grip as everything starts to hurt too good. You let out a squeak as the heat compounding in your stomach drips out of you. A slow trickle of orgasm that breaks into a flood on the next stroke of his cock.
It's worth it the way he growls when you clench and flutter around his cock. Ghost's thrusts becoming sharp and uncoordinated as he groans out his own orgasm. He rocks his cock into you more gently, letting your greedy pussy milk him before he lets you go to pull out. You feel like a rag doll, the way you drop and splay on the bed to shiver.
You turn over onto your stomach in an attempt not to slide off the bed as you get your bearings. Ghost is quick to scoop you up and deposit you against the pillows, the condom tied off and tossed towards the trash. You're once again moved, positioned how he likes so Ghost can pull you against his chest. You sling a leg over him and cuddle close. He smells like sweat, musky in a way that makes you want to drag your tongue along his collar.
"Twenty minutes," He tells you roughly, "I'll talk about anything but work." You hum, occupied with dragging your fingers over his squishy pecs. He flexes a little and you tip your head to look up at him.
"What?"
"We still got a dozen condoms, no sense takin' 'em home." He raises a brow. You think you're getting better at reading him, you think he's smiling. The offer is light, but sincere.
"Long as I can walk in the morning," You smile. He tips his head, like he's thinking about it.
"We'll see."
When you wake up in the morning it's to a pounding at the door. You grumble and sit up to check the time. You're alone in bed, but the shower is running. Good, he hasn't left yet. Around round six you decided you were getting Ghost's number in the morning, maybe asking him out to breakfast, perhaps even dinner. The clock says six but your brain says it's ass o'clock and whoever is banging on the door needs to gtfo.
You drag yourself out of bed and swipe Ghost's tee from the floor. A souvenir, and a nasty habit you've picked up. You root around for a pair of panties and manage to tug them on as the shower shuts off. You're making your way for the door when Ghost pops out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. You don't have time to admire the way drops of water trace over his back, or the way his hair sticks up at odd angles. He opens the door and leans against the jam.
"Dinnae dae that," Another low voice fills the room, there's something familiar about the accent, "Ya ask for a wakeup call, ya dinnae get ta glare at me."
"You're early," Ghost grumbles.
"Aye, was just so eager to see yer face LT." You pad behind Ghost and peak around his shoulder at the man in fatigues and an army green tee. You could recognize those eyes even if you didn't still feel his smile like an arrow through the heart. Icy blue in a way that makes you think he's from a different planet. Though you know it from your time in Glasgow.
"John?"
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teenage dirtbag, baby! | luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: there is nothing more exhausting than being known as the picture perfect daughter of aphrodite… luckily, camp half-blood’s resident teenage dirtbag luke castellan can’t relate at all. fake dating him to piss off your siblings and mother could never go wrong, right? (based on 18 by anarbor)
wc: 6.5k
warnings: smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, implied sexual content, drew tanaka being a bitch, and kinda ooc luke bcs hes meant to be well … a teenage dirtbag.
a/n: its still valentine’s day for me sooo happy valentines 💌💗 !! in mexico valentine’s day is also known as the day of friendship so this one is dedicated to my favorite people ever: @emiliehornby @love-that-we-were-in and @kestisvrse <3 !! hope you enjoy it mwah !!
The sounds of campers laughing and gossiping in the dining pavilion are drowned out by your siblings and their annoyingly loud whispers about the allegedly cute (you’d beg to differ) son of Ares who joined camp less than twelve hours ago. Sure, he seemed like a nice guy even though he's a child of the god of war, but you were certain the only reason they kept bringing him up was because they wanted to set you up with him.
“And his arms, oh my gods! Have you seen them?” one of your brothers chimed in, trying to get you to agree with him, but all you could come up with was a hum and a polite smile.
It pissed you off a bit, the knowledge of you never being able to go against your siblings' wishes.. the fear of disappointing them and your mother being all-consuming and blinding you with fear.
There were times you’d think about it if you’re being honest. Times where you would let yourself dream of doing something so stupidly reckless for once. Something that would stop your siblings from walking all over you and treating you like their personal lapdog.
Not only was it tiring but it was also humiliating to a certain point. You were older than most of them and you were pretty sure you were the only one that took being a demigod seriously, even taking your time to strategize for Capture The Flag with Clarisse, and yet… you rejected Chiron when he asked you to be a counselor and told him to ask Silena instead.
And you loved your family—you really did, but it was getting exhausting. Always having to be perfect was draining you and you were afraid of the kind of person you’d become if you allowed this to keep going.
“He totally wants to ask you out,” Silena’s voice snapped you out of the daze you were trapped in. You turned your head to the right, facing your half-sister with a small frown on your face.
“You really think so?” you replied, trying your best to sound excited.
“Oh, I know so,” she answered before going on a whole rant about how cute you’d look with the newly claimed son of Ares. A son of Ares—that you badly wanted to remind her—had only been in camp for less than twelve hours and you knew nothing about.
You stayed in the dining pavilion with your siblings until you found the strength to tell them you were tired and wanted to go to sleep (an incredibly blatant lie but it didn’t look like they cared) and stood up, brushing the dust off your jeans.
“Wait, I’ll go with you!” Silena said with a smile, standing up and moving closer to you.
“You don’t have to. You can stay with them if you want to, really—“ you were cut off by your half-sister with an exasperated sigh.
“I want to go with you. Plus, I can walk back here once I drop you off at the cabin,” she stated with a playful roll of her eyes.
The two of you walked back to the Aphrodite cabin in a comfortable silence. You liked being with Silena, she was a few years younger than you but she carried herself with so much grace and love it was hard to feel uncomfortable or weird whenever you hung out with her.
You kept your gaze on the sky, noticing that the moon was out by now. “Hey,” Silena whispered, trying to get your attention.
“You okay?” you answered. Your mind was practically hardwired to always look after your siblings, so your brain was unwillingly making you think of the worst-case scenario.
“What? Yeah, I am okay,” Silena was quick to reassure you, “I just wanted to talk to you about—“
“I swear to all the gods, Silena. If this is about that camper..” you replied with a small sigh. The two of you stopped walking when you reached your cabin, deciding to continue the conversation outside.
“He’s not that bad! He is a nice guy and the two of you would look really cute together,” she insisted.
“You don’t even know him.”
“Ugh, fine. Good thing is there are other cute campers we can introduce you to. I met one of Charlie’s brothers a few weeks ago and I think he’d—“
“I can’t do this tonight,” you replied in an exhausted tone.
“Wow, okay. No need to be mean about it,” Silena muttered.
“I’m sorry?”
“I’ve been trying to help you find a boyfriend for months now and you always shut me down. It was fine at first but now you’re just being mean,” she explained.
“Mean? Silena, you said it yourself. I’ve always shut you down because I’m not interested in getting one.”
“Whatever,” she replied bitterly before turning around and walking back to the dining pavilion, leaving you alone outside of your cabin.
You stared at her back as she walked away, going through the last few minutes over and over in your head. Were you being mean? All you did was stick up for yourself. You didn’t understand why you were feeling bad for standing up against your siblings just for once.
A snort made you realize you weren’t alone. You turned your head towards the noise just to be met with.. oh.
Luke Castellan was leaning against the side of your cabin, carefully hidden under the darkness of the night and the shadows of the trees, he had a cigarette in his right hand and an obnoxious smirk adorning his even more obnoxious face.
“Hope you enjoyed the show, Castellan.”
Luke raised his hands as if he had been caught and blew the smoke away, “I’m on your side, she was being a fucking bitch.”
“Don’t call her that, she’s just a kid.”
Luke raised a brow before taking another drag of his cigarette, “Do not call your sister a bitch after seeing her.. be a bitch to you?” he shook his head. “Oh, princess, you need to work on getting rid of that altruism.”
“Do you even know what that word means?” you snapped, not being in the mood to indulge in whatever it was he wanted to talk about.
“Why? You want to teach me?” He said with a smirk.
“Don’t even start with your annoying stuff, Castellan,” you muttered, running a hand down your face, clearly overwhelmed with everything that had happened.
“Because you know you won’t want me to stop?” he pressed, but after a moment of silence his smirk fell and a frown took over his features.
“Uh.. you want to...” he trailed off and cleared his throat, “you want to talk about it or something?”
You squinted at him before eventually letting out a sigh and walking over to Luke, standing next to him with your back pressed against the wooden walls of your cabin. Luke extended his arm away from you to keep the smoke far from your face.
“So, um... Silena wants to set me up with that new camper,” you started.
“Fuck. The Ares one?” Luke interrupted.
“Castellan.”
“Right, sorry. Please continue, princess.”
You decided to ignore the insufferable pet name he gave you and continued, “The thing is I do want a boyfriend, just not… him.”
Luke hummed before bringing the cigarette to his lips again and inhaling the smoke in, he kept his mouth closed as he thought of something decent to say before slightly tilting his head away from you and blowing out the smoke upwards.
“Alright, and have you tried telling her to stop?” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Nope that was shitty advice, have you tried maybe describing your type or whatever it is you Aphrodite people say to describe the people you’re attracted to.”
“My type?” you replied, almost offended by the statement.
“Yeah?” Luke answered as if it was the most obvious thing to do, “Just describe the type of guys you’re into and I’m sure that cult of yours you like to call siblings will be happy to help…” he trailed off when he noticed your gaze set on his right hand and your bottom lip in between your teeth as he flicked the cigarette, causing the ashes to fall into the ground.
He looked up from his hand and burst out into laughter, shaking his head before whispering an amused fuck.
“Oh?” Luke said with a bright smile and raised brows, “You find this attractive, angel?”
“That thing is going to kill you,” you explained, “I’m not attracted to people that like to slowly kill themselves.”
“Fucking bummer. I wanted to see you take a drag, that would’ve been really hot,” he said, his smile not wavering. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you don’t drink, right?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Look at you, being such a good girl,” Luke teased before throwing the rest of his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it.
“Also, that thing you said about Silena being just a kid was really fucking stupid. She’s almost the same age as Annabeth and she doesn’t act like an asshole, I’m pretty sure your sweet little sister is just a bitch.”
Annabeth. You forgot that even though Luke is an annoyance most of the time and prefers to stick to himself.. he still has a soft spot for the twelve year old daughter of Athena. It was kind of endearing.
“Annabeth is a daughter of Athena, you can’t expect her to act—“
“You didn’t act like Silena when you were fourteen. You need to stop giving her excuses and allow yourself to get mad at her.”
“I’d rather have my siblings get mad at me and just stop perceiving me as this perfect and weak person, maybe once that happens they’ll stop trying to mess with my life,” you explained, your gaze set towards the ground.
Luke was about to open his mouth and try to come up with a funny one-liner to make you feel better, but he didn’t get to because you were quick to look up at him with a gasp and wide eyes.
“The fuck? Are you okay?”
“I need you.”
“Shit, angel. Most girls say that after a few dates but I’m not against the idea,” he said with an amused look in his eyes.
“Ew, no. I mean, I need to date you—fake date you.”
“I’m uh... not for sale?” Luke answered, clearly confused by the plan you were trying to explain.
“No, Castellan. Listen to me. My siblings despise you, I’m sure they’d set my bed on fire as a way of cleansing my soul from you if they find out we’re dating.”
Luke’s eyes got bright and his smile widened (if that was even possible), “Set your bed on fire? And what would we do in your bed for them to feel disgusted by its existence?”
“You’re disgusting. Anyway, if we fake date I’ll get to stop being perceived as their perfect sister and you’ll have bragging rights for dating an Aphrodite kid,” you said, moving your hands as you spoke.
“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” Luke asked carefully, trying to make you think about what was at stake. He didn’t give a shit about staining his already nonexistent reputation, but he couldn’t have you ruin yours.
“I am so sure, Castellan,” you reassured him.
“You know, for a good girl I’m extremely surprised you never say please.”
“Please, Castellan. Could you please be my fake boyfriend so I can finally stop being seen as my siblings' personal toy?” you said with a fake smile while bringing your hands together as an exaggerated way of begging Luke to say yes.
“You’re so cute when you beg. But you need to prove to me you’re serious about this fake dating thing. Meet me tomorrow at the bonfire, no bullshit.”
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
You had been on edge the entire day. Silena seemed to be past the argument, which made you feel better to an extent, but that didn’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that settled in your gut because throughout the day you could feel someone staring at you. You could feel Luke staring at you.
You were walking past the sword fighting arena with Katie Gardner from the Demeter Cabin the first time it happened. The feeling of a pair of eyes completely set on you. You turned your head to the right just to be met with Luke’s exhausted figure, he was sweating and panting, but that didn’t stop him from running his eyes up and down your figure and smiling at you.
To say Katie was disgusted would be an understatement. A “Castellan is a dick, you should stay away from him,” was enough to stop you from staring at him and turning your head back to Katie. She went on to explain how Luke was a “real shitty person” and only hooked up with her as a way of getting her to grow weed in the back of the stables.
It happened around eight times in the last two hours (not that you were counting) and it only got worse when the moon came up and everyone was making their way to the bonfire. You were walking next to Michael Yew when you felt a hand on your lower back.
Luke’s hand on your lower back, to be exact. He left it there as he walked past you, only turning his head back to say “It’s adorable to see you together, are you two a couple?”
You had to hold yourself back from strangling him when you heard his irritating laugh after he saw Michael’s reaction to his statement. Michael tried his best to be polite and tell him he was wrong, that there was nothing going on between the two of you.
But his reply only seemed to fuel Luke’s actions even more because all he did was answer with a cocky “Oh, I know. Our princess here is only into... what was it? People that like to slowly kill themselves with cigarettes?” before walking away.
You were going to kill him.
Michael left your side as soon as you arrived, moving to sit with his siblings from the Apollo Cabin… leaving you with two choices: sitting with your siblings or sitting next to Luke (who for some reason always sat alone and spent the entire time listening to the music coming from the MP3 player he somehow managed to get into camp).
So this is what Luke meant, you thought. This was the only way you could prove to him and everyone that you were serious about dating him—fake dating him—but it's not like they would ever know the truth.
You dragged your feet as you walked towards Luke, clearly having second thoughts about your plan, but there was no turning back now. You tried to ignore the confused look Drew was giving you and the gasps you could hear coming from your siblings.
“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” You weren't so sure anymore but that didn’t stop you from taking a seat next to Luke Castellan, who took one of his earphones off and looked at you with a smile.
“Happy now? I just proved how serious I am about this,” you whispered to him, trying your best to not let anyone hear you.
Luke nodded before saying, “You could’ve done better, but I’ll take it.”
“Done better? I just sat next to you in front of the entire camp, isn’t this good enough for you?” you asked, indignation evident in your tone.
“Promise not to beat me up?” Luke said before pulling your arm and manhandling your body so you were on top of him, sitting on his lap. He placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you with stars in his eyes.
“Wow, Castellan. How scandalous, I’m sitting on your lap,” you deadpanned.
He chuckled, bringing you closer to him and pressing his lips against yours. Luke’s hands felt like fire against your skin, all you could feel was a heat taking all over your body as he continued to kiss you, only pulling away to catch his breath before bringing you in for another one, this time he kissed you deeper and faster.
Luke dragged you closer to him by pressing your hips against his and all you could do was melt into him and the feeling of his lips against yours. In the distance, you could hear gasps and people gagging, and you were pretty sure the campers from the Ares Cabin were cheering and whistling, but all your thoughts were on Luke Castellan and how good of a kisser he is.
You pulled away first this time, trying to steady your breathing as you looked into his eyes. He licked his lips before whispering “We should go.”
Your eyes widened as soon as he said that, the implications of what the sentence meant making you feel nervous. Luke was quick to reassure you, “If we leave, your siblings will be even more outraged. We don’t have to do anything, but they’ll think we are doing…some stuff. Just come to the woods with me for a little while.”
You nodded and grabbed his hand as he guided you through the woods. You could hear Silena calling out your name and warning you about the consequences of your actions, but her voice was drowned out by the loud cheers coming from Clarisse.
Once the two of you were far enough from the rest of the campers, Luke let go of your hand and sat down by the lake, nodding his head as a way of asking you to join him.
You sat in silence for a few minutes until Luke spoke first. “How long do you think we should keep this thing up?”
“Valentina and Drew will want us to be over by tonight,” you said with a smile, a laugh escaping your lips. You didn’t notice how Luke’s eyes got brighter when he heard your laugh or how the melody that came out of your lips went straight through his heart and made him feel more alive.
“But I think a week should be enough. We can say we’ve been secretly dating for like... five months? That way it won’t be weird if we break up in a week,” you explained while your fingers played with your camp necklace.
Luke nodded before going silent again, staring at the lake with a look you couldn’t quite comprehend. Your gaze was set on him, your eyes traveling from his toned arms, all the way to the scar that sat right below his right eye.
“I know it’s awful, I can feel you staring at it,” he murmured. You could physically feel your heart sinking when he said it. You cleared your throat, “No, I… I think it’s beautiful. I think you’re—” Luke turned his head to face you, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “I think you’re really brave, Luke.”
“Beautiful?” Luke asked, confusion written all over his face. “You should hear what your siblings say about it, then. I’m sure your opinion would change in a second.”
“Being an Aphrodite kid means you see beauty everywhere,” you explained, “And I think your scar must be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Luke stared at you with an unreadable expression, making your heart almost beat out of your chest.
“Are you flirting with me, angel?”
“Of course, you’d ruin the moment. Screw you, man.” You rolled your eyes.
Luke threw his head back in a fit of laughter, it made you want to strangle him… again. “Did you just say screw you? Gods, princess, saying fuck won’t kill you.”
“I don’t like to curse, thank you for pointing it out, Castellan,” you said, playfully shoving him, making him fake a gasp.
“You went from trying to seduce me to trying to kill me, you’re so interesting, angel,” he said before letting out a sigh. “It, uh… It was really hard at first, getting used to the scar.”
“Having people call it all sorts of names, and looking at me with nothing but pity in their eyes was not easy to get used to. But after some time you just… stop caring. I mean, I’m not that big of an asshole to hold a grudge over a fucking scar, it even looks sick. But yeah, when it gets hard again all I can do is snort a line and move on.
“The coke smuggling was real?” you gasped, only focusing on the last sentence he said. Luke tried to keep a straight face but his facade fell the moment he noticed your wide eyes. Luke Castellan has the type of laugh that makes everything get fuzzy and makes you feel lightheaded, and all you wanted to do was to come up with bad jokes just for the sole reason of hearing him do it again.
“Fuck, you really believe anything, huh?”
“Shut up, Castellan. I’ll literally stab you and let you slowly bleed to death,” you threatened, standing up from your place next to him. Luke followed you as you walked back to the cabins.
“You do know I’m the best swordsman in the last 300 years, right? Do you even know how to wield a sword?” he asked, matching your pace and walking next to you.
“Low blow, just because I don’t like to indulge in violence it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to wield a sword,” you retorted.
Luke snorted a laugh, “You don’t know, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Will you shut up now?”
“I only will if you accept to let me teach you how to fight tomorrow,” Luke said with a tilt to his head. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer because he walked away from you while saying a loud “Meet me tomorrow morning in the sword fighting arena.”
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
You were sure you were seconds away from passing out. It's been around two hours of sparring with Luke and your arms and legs were about to give out. The sun was starting to come out, which meant this torture was nearly over. At least that’s what Luke promised. “We’ll stop as soon as the other campers wake up, that way you won’t have to be embarrassed if they see your… skills.”
The two of you circled each other, your swords were raised and Luke’s blade was pointing straight at you. Luke took a second to study your stance before lunging forward, his sword meeting yours as you quickly blocked his attack. “Not too bad, huh?” Luke teased before trying to get another hit, his moves becoming more calculated the longer you kept blocking his advances. Proving he wasn’t called the best swordsman at camp for nothing.
With a disarming maneuver you weren’t aware of, Luke was quick to throw your sword to the ground and have you stumbling back, not being able to regain your footing. Luke gave you a smirk when your body hit the ground with a small thud, “That was easy,” he said, “We should do this more often.”
“Nope, this is a one-time thing, Castellan,” Luke rolled his eyes before bringing the blade of his sword closer to you, reaching for your chin with a glint in his eyes. The blade met your chin and Luke lifted it, making you meet his gaze as he slowly made you stand up by raising his sword even higher.
The two of you stood still, staring intently into each other’s eyes until you heard it—the sound of the Ares Cabin making their way to the arena. Luke let out a surprised shit, dropped his sword to the ground, and walked closer to you, cupping your jaw with his right hand and kissing you.
Your lips met in a hurried collision, causing the same fire from yesterday to set in your stomach. Your hands moved to Luke’s hair, softly pulling it as the kiss got heated. You knew this was fake, you knew this kiss meant nothing to him… but you didn’t want him to stop. “Holy fuck, are you two always sucking each other’s faces?” Clarisse’s voice cut through the moment, causing you to pull away from Luke, unable to meet his gaze.
“Yeah, that’s what being in a relationship entails. I don’t think you’d know much about it, La Rue,” Luke breathes out.
“Don’t you have weed to sell or a cheap bottle of vodka to down, Castellan?”
“Aw, you know me so well,” Luke answered before picking up both of your swords and grabbing your hand, walking away from the arena.
The following days were (and you hated to admit it) filled with the most fun you’ve ever had. Luke would come up with some insane idea for a fake date and it would always end with one of you lying about seeing a camper or hearing Silena’s voice as an excuse to make out with each other.
There was this one time the two of you were having a picnic by the strawberry fields and the day ended with the two of you hiding in the empty forge while making out, running your hands over each other’s bodies, and doing the normal stuff fake couples always do… it all happened because Luke swore he heard Valentina’s voice near the fields. (You were sure Valentina had been on the stables that entire day because she had cleaning duty, but why wouldn’t you play along with something you also wanted to do?)
It was Sunday–the last day of your fake relationship–when Silena finally found the guts to talk to you about Luke. You even felt slightly bad for the girl because she was so nervous when she sat next to you in the dining pavilion.
“I..um... I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she began, “Well, there are lots of things for me to apologize for, but I think it’s pretty obvious what the main problem is.”
“The way I’ve been treating you is not okay and I’m really ashamed of it. You shouldn’t have to feel pressured to be the person we want you to be, I used to see you as someone who couldn’t do things on her own and always needed someone to push her and help her handle everything… and now I see I was wrong,” Silena explained, running a hand through her hair.
“It’s fine, Silena. I don’t mind.”
“Well, I do. You’re strong and more than capable of doing things on your own, and you don’t need me to try and help you or fix you.” She took a deep breath. “I didn't know you were dating Luke, and to be honest I didn’t even know he was your type. He is so… weird and I never would’ve guessed you were dating. I mean, Drew told me he does cocaine and—”
“He doesn’t,” you interrupted.
Silena raised a brow before continuing, “Anyway, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad for just... existing. And you always look so happy after hanging out with Luke, I truly hope the two of you stay together for a long time.”
You didn’t even know how to explain the situation so you just blurted out “I broke up with him.”
Silena looked shocked for a few seconds before letting out a deep breath, “Oh, thank the gods. Just because we trust you it doesn’t mean we trust him,” she spat the him with so much disgust it made you feel sick. “You deserve so much better.”
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
This is probably the first time you have ever felt ill at the thought of seeing Luke. Sure, you used to be annoyed by his presence before the whole fake dating situation even started, but at least you were a strange type of friends back then. Not really close but also not complete strangers. There were times you’d catch him hiding his secret stash of weed behind the stables and didn’t tell anyone, and he’d always pay you back by lying to Chiron about you practicing your sword skills with him. (You had only used a sword once and it was years ago when you were still a new camper, you had no idea why Chiron would ever believe him.)
Luke was sitting in his usual spot by the lake, a cigarette in his hand. It had become a tradition for the two of you to always meet up by the lake before curfew to talk about your day and practice your kissing so it wouldn’t look fake.
“Hey,” you said, taking a seat next to him. Luke threw his cigarette to the ground, stepped on it, and almost instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your temple. “Blink-182?” you asked, nodding at the MP3 he had on his lap.
“The Smashing Pumpkins,” Luke answered, taking his earphones off. “Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness is one of the best albums ever made.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’ll take your word for it,” you said. Luke smiled and poked your side.
“So, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” you began, but Luke held up his hand as a way to get you to stop.
“Can I say something first?” he asked, looking shy for probably the first time since the day you met him.
You nodded and let him take the lead of the conversation. “Alright, so… I’m kind of shit with words so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but this past week has probably been the best week of my life. And I’m not even fucking around, I don’t have many friends–apart from Annabeth, and getting to be with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“Being your friend is the greatest gift the gods have ever given me, and sometimes I feel like I don’t even deserve it. I’m a mess of a person, and you’re well… you’re you,” Luke stared deeply into your eyes, “And I just wanted to let you know that—”
Luke didn’t get to finish his sentence because this time it was you who cut him off with a kiss. You could taste the cigarette on his lips as he brought you closer to him, running a hand down your back and deepening the kiss before pulling away and moving to kiss your neck.
Luke began to trail kisses down your throat and only stopped to whisper a low “Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.”
Aphrodite.
You pushed him away the moment you remembered your mother. “Silena apologized. We can stop pretending now.”
Luke was silent and just stared at you, his fingers moving to fidget with the wire of his earphones. “Oh, right,” he cleared his throat. “It’s Sunday, I forgot.”
You knew he didn’t.
“Yup, so we can go back to normal now,” you said, looking away from his eyes because you knew it would only take one look into them for you to kiss him again.
“Good,” Luke stood up, not daring to even shoot you a glance, and walked away. Leaving you alone by the lake with the lingering smell of his cheap stolen cologne mixed with the cigarette he was smoking.
It didn’t help that you were welcomed into your cabin with hugs and your siblings congratulating you for breaking up with the son of Hermes. Sure, you weren’t the perfect sister anymore because you dated Luke Friendless-Freak Castellan, but knowing they liked you just because you were with him and then broke his heart made you want to set the cabin on fire.
The main rule of the Aphrodite Cabin was something your siblings were extremely proud of, but the thought of its existence made you want to storm into Mount Olympus by yourself and yell at your mother for putting all these useless ideas into their heads.
For a child of Aphrodite to prove themselves, they must make someone fall in love with them and then break that someone's heart.
Is it possible for the rule to backfire? For the child of Aphrodite to accidentally fall in love with someone and then break their own heart because of it? You didn’t even know if that was an option, but you were sure that’s exactly what you were going through right now.
It was hard for you to go to sleep that night because your mind kept replaying the past week on a loop. Your conversation with Luke by your cabin. The night of the bonfire. The conversation by the lake about his scar. Sparring with him. Going on a million fake dates. The night on the forge. Your last conversation with him.
“Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.”
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
You could feel Luke staring at you. Again.
You were helping Annabeth strategize for Capture The Flag, because she had the brilliant idea to have the Athena cabin team up with Hermes and Aphrodite. You didn’t know much about fighting and spent most of the time sitting with your sisters during the game, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy helping them come up with new plans.
Once the three of you were done, Annabeth excused herself with an awkward “I think Malcolm wanted me to help him go through some maps. You two have fun… chatting!” and left as fast as she could, leaving you alone with Luke.
You watched her leave the amphitheater and turned around to face Luke, “I can see why you like her. She’s so much like you.”
“Yeah, she’s like my little sister.”
The silence was so uncomfortable you almost broke down crying. You nodded and turned around, not being strong enough to face him, and walked away. You could hear him behind you, following you.
“Can we talk?” he pleaded.
You were about to open your mouth when Drew’s voice made you turn your head. “Gods, Castellan. It’s so embarrassing to still be hung up on your ex.”
Luke sighed, “Hello to you too, Tanaka.”
“Can you leave her alone? She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Drew said through a fake smile.
“Oh, really? Did she tell you that?” Luke answered, tilting his head as he spoke and making eye contact with you. Wordlessly begging you to please talk to him.
You stayed silent and looked away from him. Luke let out an incredulous laugh before nodding his head. “Good to know you’re back to being their little pet.”
Drew rolled her eyes and walked away, shoving Luke as she walked past him. “So? You’re just not going to say anything?” Luke said.
“What do you want me to say, Castellan?”
“Tell me that last week didn’t mean anything to you,” Luke answered, his voice trembling.
“Why do you care? I thought I was nothing but Drew’s little pet,” you replied, trying your best to not look weak in front of him.
Luke ran a hand through his hair and stepped closer to you, “I’m sure you’re thinking the exact same thing about yourself.”
You hated that he was right.
The truth made your blood boil. “I don’t want any of your shit,” Luke let out a genuine laugh this time, a mocking look in his eyes. “Oh, so now she can curse?”
You hated him for seeing the real you. You hated him for knowing the truth. You hated yourself for loving him.
“Fuck you, Castellan,” Luke hummed before stepping even closer to you and placing a hand on your waist, leaning to whisper in your ear. “I’m sure you’d love to do that again, right?” Luke’s smell was taking all over your senses and making your knees go weak. He continued, “Because even if we do it in the darkness of the Forge… it is still two friends fake dating because your mother might be watching.”
You found the strength to press your hands against his chest and push him away, “Don’t talk to me ever again.”
You spent the rest of the day with your siblings and friends, too afraid to leave their side because you didn’t trust yourself. Because you knew that if you were left alone for a second—you’d run straight to him.
You sat next to Silena in the dining pavilion. Helped Katie and the Dyonisus cabin grow more strawberries by keeping them company. Walked with Michael to the bonfire, and stayed with Drew throughout the entire singalong.
As always, Luke was sitting by himself, his MP3 player in his hand and his eyes were set on you.
You walked back to your cabin when the singalong was over and helped your siblings get ready for bed. You were about to go to sleep when Valentina whispered your name, saying she had something for you.
“We found it last night under your bed, Drew wanted to give it to the harpies but I managed to take it away from her,” a frown made its way to your face.”What do you mean?”
“We found this,” She pulled out a badly wrapped gift from under her pillows. You were confused until she told you to open it.
It was a bright pink MP3 player.
“Oh,” you whispered, your hands shook as you stared at it. “I’ve got to—”
“It’s okay,” Valentina whispered. “He’s probably by the lake.”
You gave your half-sister a hug before running out of your cabin, and making your way to the lake. You could see Luke’s silhouette in the distance, and the sight only made you run faster.
You took a moment to catch your breath before saying, “The Smashing Pumpkins?”
Luke turned around at the sound of your voice. “Blink-182” he answered with a small smirk.
“Uh, of course,” you said as you walked closer to him. “Alright, listen. You were right.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you continued with a smile. “So, it turns out I may or may not be in love with this certain guy, and he may or may not be my type or whatever it is my siblings say.”
Luke took a step closer to you. “There’s a chance this guy thinks I’m going through a phase and only fake dated him to piss off my siblings and mother but the truth is… I don’t even care about them whenever I’m with him.”
His hand moved to caress your cheek, “That’s cute and all but how does this guy know you truly mean that?”
“I’m not going to make out with him at the bonfire, so I guess all he needs to do is believe me,” you whispered, your eyes moving from Luke’s eyes to his lips.
Luke smiled before answering, “Believe you? That’s alright with me,” and pressing his lips to yours.
Luke was right. Aphrodite would be proud.
#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan#percy jackson and the olympians#magnolia’s fics!
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