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#jackson smut
spacequokka · 2 years
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The Moment
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Pairing: Jackson x Reader Genre: Smut/PWP Rating: M Summary: Jacks pins you down and fucks you senseless. Word Count: 0.6k Warnings: unprotected sex, that stroke game is not weak, rip the ovaries
Written for @madness1999sworld​ as part of Tipsy Drabbles with @got7writerscollective​. Hope it’s good! Smut directly under the cut <3
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Jackson loved the way you were shaking like a leaf under him. Panting for air with an arm over your face. From his position, he could see your eyes were closed, nearly eclipsed by the stiff peaks of your nipples with each rise and fall of your breaths. He licked his lips slowly and savored the taste of your cum on his tongue. He promised he’d drink you dry.
He sat up and crawled up to your face where he placed gentle kisses on your arm as he nudged it aside. “You good, princess?”
“Y-yeah,” you whispered with another tremor.
“You sure?” He grabbed the bottle from the nightstand. “We can rest if you need to. Here.”
You peeked at him and eagerly took the water, leaning up on one arm to take a few gulps. “No, no. I wanna keep going. You haven’t cum once yet.”
Jackson laughed and took the water. “Because I want to be inside you when I do.”
You bit your lip as your eyes drifted down to his dick, hard and leaking. “How do you want me?”
He shook his head and leaned in close. “No rush.” He pressed soft kisses to your jaw, trailing them to your lips as he guided you onto your back. But you were determined to keep up with him. “What are you doing?”
You were already rolling over onto your stomach and getting on your hands and knees. “I wanna keep going. I want you to feel good too.”
His eyes trailed over your curves and came to a stop at your ass. He couldn’t say no. He was on his knees behind you in seconds, spreading your legs wider as he rested the head of his dick at your entrance and pressed in with care. The shakes started up again as your nerves lit up in protest. Jackson moans nearly drowned out the music he’d put on once he bottomed out. Fuck you felt good. He’d never get enough of you. The thrusts started out slow as he cherished the way you gripped him when he pulled back, how you sucked him back in each time. Your moans started up again, quiet little gasps when he was deep inside. The way you clenched around him when he hit the right spot made his toes curl.
Shit.
Before he knew it, he was pushing you down onto your chest, tossing the pillows off the bed yet saving one to shove under your hips. You turned your head to the side and gripped the sheets just above your shoulders. With your body situated just right, he hovered over your body and went at it. The force of his thrusts rippled through you, pushing you up the bed bit by bit. You could feel him deep in your gut as your toes curled.
You were definitely getting a noise complaint tomorrow. “Ja-Jack, fuck!”
“I can’t hear you.” He grabbed your waist pounded into you. “I know you can get louder than that, princess. Scream for me.” You honestly tried to but with the way your head was jerking with his frantic, brutal thrusts the most you could get out were garbled moans as you tried to ground yourself. “Come on, you wanted it. Wanted me to feel good? I am, princess. I could fuck you forever, just keep going until I pass out.”
The thought both thrilled and scared you. He was known for his stamina and impulsiveness. If he set his mind to keeping you up all night, he would. A ball of pleasure formed deep inside you as clenched around him.
He felt your impending orgasm and laughed. “Cumming again already? It’s gonna be a long night for you.”
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gloriousunknownsong · 10 months
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Just want him to blow into my mouth like this and kiss me later.
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flurrys-creativity · 1 year
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Apaixonar
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Apaixonar (v.) - to fall in love with someone or something; the act of falling in love
Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader; Genre: s2l, Slice of life, Romance, Fluff, Smut; Rating: 18+, nsfw, MDNI; Warnings: rich prick Jackson, being kicked out of his home by his dad, mentions of regret, Bambam being fancy, having no money and getting kicked out of a taxi too, spontaneously moving into a shared apartment, jackson being quite the asshole, SMUT, phone sex via official services, masturbation, guided masturbation, slight nipple play, oral (fem receiving), orgasms (m & f), unprotected sex, pulling out and cumming on the stomach (not the safest option), hinted possessive jackson; Wordcount: 7.252
Summary: In need of a new roommate you weren’t too picky and when a handsome stranger told you he wanted to be your roommate you didn’t say no. Though you didn’t expect to be so different from him and you definitely didn’t expect to work more now instead of less. Actually you didn’t expect a lot of things with your new roommate.
A/N: For once I managed to post something during an idol’s birthday!!! Ignoring the fact I only managed this on the third attempt... Happy Birthday Jackson Wang from China!!! Please enjoy this one shot (where I tried writing solely from his perspective)
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Frustrated, Jackson kicked against his suitcase, growling internally when the pain shot from his toes up through his body. He ran his hands through his hair and looked around through the empty streets.
Banished from his home by his own father he was forced to leave. Hoping he could take refuge at his best friend's place, he had called a taxi but as soon as the driver heard Jackson had no money with him, the driver kicked him out as well, cursing loudly and driving off again. He successfully left Jackson standing alone in the middle of the streets with his suitcase.
Maybe it was actually for the better that Jackson couldn’t make it to his friend’s place. Even though he loved Bambam and always threw parties with him, living together was a completely different level though. He remembered how they had been on a vacation together and were supposed to go out but it took Bambam hours to decide what pair of shoes he wanted to wear. 
Of course Jackson hoped it would only last a few days until his father would calm down and ask for his son to return but Jackson couldn’t be sure of that. Never before had he seen that look in his father’s eyes and he didn’t want to admit it but it scared him. It scared him enough to worry his father might stay stubborn and reject his own son for a while. 
Jackson sighed and noticed only now that he had no clue where he actually was, never having been in this part of the town before. With an annoyed click of his tongue he pulled his phone out of a pocket about to check his location when the minute he turned the screen on his phone decided to die in his hands.
This wasn’t the way Jackson had planned his Saturday night to go. He cursed under his breath and rubbed one hand over his face, tiredly searching for a solution for the predicament he was in.
That was the moment he heard someone humming quietly, accompanied with steps that halted every other second.
Jackson turned around, his eyes jumping around the area desperately searching for the source of the sound. He didn’t think someone else would be out during this late hour. He had already feared that he had to stay on the streets for a night until he could ask someone where a nearby hotel was located. 
A shimmer of hope bloomed inside of his chest when his eyes finally found the person responsible for the humming. He watched how they pinned something against a post and then turned to walk down another street.
Jackson called out but didn’t receive any reaction. With a huff he grabbed the handle of his suitcase and hurried to the post, wanting to see where the person was walking before actually following them. 
His gaze wandered to the slip that was pinned on the post, seeing the large words “roommate wanted” at the top of it. Jackson skimmed over the information and stopped at the name on the bottom. “Y/N”, he mumbled and ripped the piece of paper off from the post, looking over the details once more even though the only thing he cared about right now was the fact there was an available room for him, which would hopefully be a lot more comfortable for him than a simple hotel room. He grabbed his suitcase again and hurried after you, his gaze never leaving your form.
You wore some dark pants, simple sneakers and a hoodie that was too large on your form and could have counted as a dress as the hem of it ended mid thigh. The closer Jackson got the more details he could see, noticing the large headphones you were wearing and preventing you from hearing his call. He also noticed something poking out between your lips, thinking it was a cigarette at first, but after you pinned another paper against a board and looked at it in thought you grabbed the thin stick and pulled a lollipop out of your mouth, tapping the sweet sugary marble against your lips.
When you turned around you flinched slightly and stared with wide eyes towards Jackson, quickly pulling your headphones down. You pressed a hand against your chest and exhaled loudly. “Gosh, you scared me”, you mumbled around your lollipop.
Jackson tilted his head and mustered you closely - from the relieved grin and breathless giggle to your nervous shuffling with your feet.
“Can I help you?”
He saw how you glanced at his suitcase before you looked back up to his face, waiting with a curious glint in your eyes for his answer.
“You’re looking for a roommate.”
“Huh?” You raised both your eyebrows before understanding dawned upon your face. “Ah, yeah. My last one moved to another town and the rent is a little too high for just one person.” You laughed lightly and tugged a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You don’t have to look anymore.” Jackson stated, observing your reaction. “Your new roommate is standing right in front of you.”
He watched you blinking rapidly and staring blankly back at him. A sigh escaped his lips and Jackson had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes. “I want that room. Can we go there now? I am kind of tired and would like to rest.”
“Huh?”
This time Jackson rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Do I need to explain this to you in a way a commoner may understand? I want that room and I want it now.”
“You don’t want to check it first if it’s to your liking?”
“No.”
Once again you blinked, slightly overwhelmed by the situation and the attitude from the man in front of you. “If you’re sure, fine with me”, you smiled and led the way, trying to make light conversation with him.
Jackson mostly ignored what you were saying, only humming every now and then, while he walked alongside you through the empty streets. It seemed like a rather quiet area, with a large park on one side where only a few street lamps illuminated the greenery. On the other side one apartment complex after the other appeared within Jackson’s view.
“Here we are”, you smiled and pulled your lollipop out of your mouth. “It’s not much but it’s home.” You opened the door to an apartment complex and waited for Jackson to get inside as well.
He followed you silently, a small sneer on his face at the interior that greeted him inside. The only thing he could think of was prison, as the stale walls and absolutely no furniture didn’t appear very welcoming.
The elevator wasn’t much better. It slightly wobbled while it moved the both of you upwards and Jackson already feared he would get stuck inside of it one day.
The elevator came to a halt on the second floor and you stepped out, guiding Jackson through a narrow hallway. He saw a bunch of doors and wondered if you just brought him to the room before you would go to your own as he couldn’t fathom why else you passed so many doors without saying a word.
At last you pulled a key out of your pocket and opened a door. You turned on the light and walked further inside, throwing your shoes into a shelf.
Jackson frowned as he saw another hallway - a shorter one this time. He watched your retreating back, waiting for you to return and tell him where his room was supposed to be.
“Come, get inside”, you called over your shoulder and disappeared around a corner.
He could hear you rummaging through some things while he slowly walked inside, closing the door behind him. Jackson put his shoes next to yours and followed you inside. 
The frown was still present on his face as he walked through the smaller hallway. He observed everything closely - the paintings on the wall, a small bathroom that was slightly hidden behind another door and a closed door with a colourful sign stuck to it. Jackson didn’t want to call this area messy but it was nothing compared to what he was used to. His home had been neat and clean with nothing personal lying around. Meanwhile here he could see a lot of personal things wherever his gaze landed on.
“My previous roommate left all their furniture in the room, saying they wouldn’t need it anymore. If you don’t like it, we can throw it out tomorrow”, you started to say once Jackson appeared within your sight again, “I think we can do everything else tomorrow as well. It is pretty late after all and you said you’re tired, right?”
Jackson stared at you blankly as if he was waiting for something else.
You blinked a few times and quickly gestured towards the open room. “This would be your room. Do you want to check something else or is it okay for you to wait until tomorrow?”
Jackson only grunted and walked into the small room. He shut the door behind him immediately, to give him the privacy to inspect the room. One glance around and Jackson knew this room wasn’t even half as big as his old closet.
A scoff escaped his lips as he walked further into the room, turning around his own axis. How could anyone live like this, he wondered, these conditions felt almost inhumane. Jackson wished his father would reach out to him soon. He couldn’t and most importantly didn’t want to live like this.
To his dismay his father didn’t reach out to him. Instead you kept pestering him about the contract and the lease. Even after he signed the contract and shoved it right back into your chest - same with a cheque - you made several attempts to talk about it again.
Jackson couldn’t care less about any of that. The only thing on his mind was the fight with his father. He had called his mother two days after he arrived at your place, only to be met with disappointment.
“Jackson, where are you? I called Bambam and he said you didn’t show up at his place!” The voice of his mother was full of worry and he could basically see the tears welling up in her eyes and her lip quivering.
“I found another place to stay at.” Jackson mumbled and looked once again around the small room, feeling almost trapped inside the tiny space. 
“Are you alright?
“What do you think?” Jackson snapped and rubbed one hand over his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to”, he sighed deeply and closed his eyes, trying to regain his composure.
“Oh my poor, poor baby.”
Before Jackson could ease the mind of his mother, he heard some voices in the background. A frown appeared on his face when he recognised the voice of his father.
“Who are you talking to? Is that Jackson?”
His mother couldn’t answer, instead Jackson heard her protest and her voice grew distant over the speaker.
“Jackson?”
“Father.”
“You are not welcome. Neither in presence nor over the phone. Do not call again.” His father hissed angrily.
“I know I messed up, okay? And I’m sorry, father.” 
For a moment it was silent and a glimmer of hope sparked in Jackson’s chest. He hoped his father would accept his apology and let him come home again. Jackson wished to have his old room again - or at least a room that was as big as the whole apartment here.
“As far as I know”, his father paused and sighed, “I don’t have a son.”
The last thing Jackson heard was the outcry from his mother before the line went dead. He blinked a few times, feeling tears getting caught in his eyelashes. He swallowed harshly, trying to process the last sentence that kept repeating itself inside of his mind.
That same night Jackson pulled out his priced Whiskey from his luggage, hoping to drown out the echo of his father’s voice with some alcohol. At least with the numbness spreading through his body and clouding his mind he was able to tolerate his current situation.
He wasn’t able to get in contact with his mother again after that. Most likely because his number has been blocked by his father. Jackson missed his mother and his home, the comfort he had there. Now he had nothing that comforted him - besides his alcohol.
But even the alcohol didn’t help drowning out the presence of the other person within this apartment. 
Weeks passed and Jackson continued to ignore your presence to the best of his abilities. He left the room when you entered, locked himself inside of his own room or turned up the music so you couldn’t talk to him - even though he noticed you didn’t even try anymore. Not that your glances of pity were any better.
The only positive thing Jackson could think of was the fact you barely stayed at the apartment. He heard you leaving early in the morning whenever another nightmare had woken him up and prevented him from falling asleep again. Slowly but surely he could remember your schedule - not just from the times you came and go, but also because he listened to some of your phone calls in the kitchen where you whined about your several jobs -  and knew when to avoid being outside of his room.
At least he thought he knew your schedule by now. 
As he thought you’d be out until the late hours of the night, Jackson had caved to Bambam’s begging and constant phone terror. Surely he would have preferred to meet Bambam in a restaurant but the younger man insisted on visiting him at his new home. 
Though Jackson wouldn’t call this his home. It didn’t feel like home. There was nothing that belonged to him or showed he lived there as well. He didn’t even unpack his luggage except for his Whiskey, which he promptly placed on the couch table with two glasses he had found.
“It’s good to see you, man!” Bambam greeted him boisterously when he arrived and pushed himself past Jackson, immediately taking everything he saw in. “Never thought you’d live in a place like this. How are you even alive, man?”
Jackson didn’t answer and simply sat down on the couch, filling both glasses up with the alcohol. He downed his own glass and refilled it before he offered the second glass to his friend, who merrily continued talking. Some things didn’t change and Bambam being able to distract him from his misery was one of the things.
Jackson leaned back and nursed the glass of alcohol in his hand while he listened with a content expression, watching Bambam avidly moving his hands as he retold some party he had gone to.
He had no idea how long the both of them had been talking but when his eyes shifted to the corner of the living room, he noticed you standing there with a confused expression. Jackson immediately tensed, notifying Bambam about your presence.
Bambam turned his head and locked eyes with you. His plump lips stretched into a wide smile. “Hello beautiful!”
Jackson saw you frown and shortly glanced down at your attire. He could guess you questioned whether you actually looked beautiful and not like some sort of sleep-deprived zombie.
“I’m Bambam! Jackson’s best friend. I’m so glad you took him in! You have no idea how worried I was when he didn’t arrive at my place that night and I just couldn’t reach him.” Bambam patted on the couch right next to him, inviting you to join their little conversation. “It took ages for me to convince Jackson to invite me! Can you believe it? During all these months he refused to invite me, telling me it wasn’t my standard.” Bambam shot a dirty look towards Jackson and clicked his tongue before he turned with the same wide grin back to you. “I think your tiny apartment is very charming. It definitely shows your own style.”
You simply nodded while Jackson rolled his eyes at Bambam’s antics, knowing full well he loved being overly dramatic.
“Beautiful, you should join us. We just talked about the latest gossip. Maybe it would be really fun to hear your opinion over a cup of tea?”
Jackson tensed and glared at Bambam. He desperately wanted to cuss at his friend and tell him to shut up, instead he only gritted his teeth and turned his attention to your form. 
“Thank you for the invitation”, you said softly, trying to smile as sincere as possible, “I can make you two a cup of tea but I can’t join you two. I wanted to go job hunting since I have a day off.”
Jackson frowned upon hearing your answer, his initial glare vanishing from his features. On one hand he felt relieved you weren’t joining the conversation. On the other hand your reasoning confused him. If he remembered it correctly you already had two main jobs next to your college classes and the additional dog walking you just took on a week ago. There was no way you could add another job.
You excused yourself and walked into the kitchen, preparing the two cups of tea and leaving the two men somewhat alone again.
“Didn’t you just say she already works several jobs?” Bambam leaned over the couch as he whispered to his friend, keeping you in his sight out of the corner of his eye.
“I did.”
“Why would she search for another one then?”
Jackson shrugged with his shoulders. “Beats me.”
“Don’t you two talk with each other?” Bambam fully turned to Jackson, eyeing him with a glint of suspicion in his eyes. “You really shut everyone out, huh?”
“She’s a stranger. I didn’t shut her out.”
“This woman is your roommate. And even though I don’t understand their world completely, I know that roommates are supposed to communicate with each other. In some dramas they even work together and share tasks and help each other out.” Bambam sighed dreamily, drifting off into the world of his dramas.
“I gave her a check. That should be more than enough help.” Jackson grunted and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Bambam’s words stung unexpectedly and it bugged Jackson more than he wanted to admit.
“Is the check even decked? I would have thought your father cut every tie between you and your family. Especially the money tie.”
Jackson tensed again, dread filling his body like a darkness covering his whole being. It clawed at his throat, creating a big lump inside of it to restrict Jackson’s breathing. His hands felt clammy out of nowhere and he desperately tried to wipe them dry on his pants again, placing his now empty glass back on the table.
“Maybe you should start talking with her”, Bambam hissed before he straightened again and smiled at your returning form. “You’re such a thoughtful host, beautiful.” 
Jackson watched you place the two cups on the table, hesitating momentarily as you noticed the whiskey on it. For a split second your gaze met his but you quickly diverted it again, smiling awkwardly and saying your goodbye before you left the living room. 
Only after Jackson heard the click of the door to your room did he look back at Bambam, a small pout forming on his lips. “How am I supposed to talk to her?”
“You could have started with a simple thank you just now instead of glaring at her like she is the evil in personification, man.” Bambam snickered softly and shook his head, ignoring Jackson’s prominent pout. “How do you normally start talking to others?”
Jackson slumped down on the couch, arms still crossed over his chest. “I don’t. People know who I am, they flock around me and start talking. Mostly trying to impress me and I simply tolerate their presence.”
Bambam snickered again. “You gotta work on that, man.”
And Jackson tried working on it but it never got past a short greeting and a quick goodbye. The fact you barely stayed at the apartment, now turned out to be a burden more than a blessing. The rare moments you were in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea while working on some stuff for your college courses, got quickly interrupted by your phone buzzing obnoxiously.
Jackson mostly just stood in the doorway, desperately trying to find something he could say besides the simple ‘hey’. Though the second he mustered the courage to ask you, your phone buzzed and you excused yourself, telling him work was calling before you dismissed yourself into your room.
More times passed and Jackson grew more and more frustrated. How could it be that complicated to hold one conversation? He even tried waiting for you but you would only prepare your cup of tea silently in his presence - not initiating a conversation at all.
When Jackson complained towards Bambam about it, lying on the mattress and staring up at the white-ish ceiling, he was met with laughter. “At least one of us is having fun”, he grumbled into the phone and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Who would have thought that the infamous Jackson Wang isn’t able to talk to his roommate?”
“I tried, man, I tried.”
“Jacks, my man, it’s alright”, Bambam reassured him, barely suppressing the giggling in his voice, “you just need to blow off some steam. Let me send you a number. They will redirect you to one of their workers, who will help you to have a good time. All anonymous. You can even practise your conversation skills.”
“Fine.” Jackson placed his arm over his eyes, sulking about the fact that Bambam’s solution wasn’t really a solution for his problem. Yet, he might get a clear head from this and find a real solution afterwards.
Bambam immediately sent him the phone number after they cut the phone call, adding a dozen of suggestive smileys in the message as well as a small payment so Jackson could use the service.
Jackson stared at the number, his thumb hovering over the call button. His eyes wandered to the digital clock on the nightstand, showing it was close to midnight. He cursed under his breath and pressed the button, holding the phone to his ear as he waited with baited breath.
“Secret phone call, anonymous and discreet, how can I help you?” The sultry voice of a woman greeted him, waiting patiently for Jackson to answer.
Once everything was sorted out the woman explained the system of the Secret phone call company. “I’ll connect you with one of our girls now. After you two are done, she will send you a message, offering you to become her future customer. If you don’t want that, simply call this number again and we will find you a new sweetheart.”
It rang one, two, three times before the call got reconnected. “Hey”, a soft voice spoke into the phone, “you can call me baby. I’ll be your girl for as long as you want me. How can I call you?”
Jackson’s breath hitched. The voice felt familiar but he couldn’t put a finger on it. “Uhm”, he hesitated, feeling he shouldn’t say his real name. “I’m, well, you can call me, uhm.”
The soft giggle on the other end of the line made Jackson’s heart do summersaults inside his chest. “Maybe we can figure that out while we talk? What would you like to do today?”
“A friend of mine said I should blow off some steam”, Jackson grumbled, pout prominent in his tone. 
“Awe, such a thoughtful friend. Are you having a hard time?” 
Jackson swallowed harshly. He wasn’t sure whether the question was intended to have a double meaning or not. “The worst”, he answered, keeping it casual - despite his free hand wandering down to his crotch. Something about that soft voice made his dick twitch.
“How can I help you to feel better?” 
“Fuck”, Jackson exhaled slowly, picturing he wasn’t alone in this room anymore. 
“Would it help you if I massaged your shoulders?”
Jackson hummed softly. “Only if you straddle my lap while doing so.” 
“I- I can do that.”
Jackson pressed his palm down on his hardening cock, imagining the woman on the other side of the line sitting on his lap now. She sounded so innocent with her questions and that sweet, sweet voice. Feeling bold due to the anonymity, Jackson spoke up again: “Would you unbutton my shirt for me, baby?”
He heard the shaky inhale, before she agreed. Jackson quickly unbuttoned his own shirt, brushing it away from his chest. The cool air hit his skin and sent small shivers throughout his body. 
“Is there any-anything else I could help you with so you can relax?” 
“Would you undress for me, baby?” Jackson bit on his lower lip, eyes sealed shut as he imagined a body to the voice, slowly stripping above him. He intently listened to the rustling of fabric until it got silent. “Did you only take off your shirt?”
“Ye-yes”, the voice admitted hesitantly, “but I didn’t wear a bra or pants. So- so I’m only in my panties now.”
“Shit”, Jackson cursed and quickly fumbled with his pants, pushing his free hand down and into his boxers. “You’re too adorable, baby.” He grabbed his dick and pulled it out, pumping himself several times. “Do you have another idea that might help me relax?” By now Jackson just needed to hear that soft voice, he wanted to hear soft whimpers and shaky breaths while he pictured fucking her.
“Would rocking my hips help?” 
“Yes, baby, definitely”, Jackson sighed, gripping his shaft a little tighter. “Can you touch yourself? Pretending you’re rocking on my hard dick?” Jackson’s eyes rolled to the back of his head when he heard the soft whimpers on the other side of the line. “That’s it baby, you’re being so good for me.”
Soon enough Jackson came over his own stomach, squeezing his cock empty with every spurt. He inhaled deeply before he leaned on his elbows and looked down at his chest and lower stomach. White strings of cum painted his upper body. “You created quite the mess, baby”, he chuckled and dropped back on the mattress, quietly listening to the fast breathing.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be”, Jackson quickly spoke into the phone, “I, uhm, I actually enjoyed this. Thank you.”
A soft laugh came through the phone. “I’m glad, I liked it too.” 
“Yeah?” Jackson piped up, staring up at the ceiling again. “Could we do this again? Tomorrow, same time?”
“Of course.”
“Great! Well, uhm, I guess I should hang up now.” Jackson laughed awkwardly. “I still have to clean up a little.”
The soft laugh and quiet goodbye were the last things Jackson heard before he cut the call, dropping his arm and phone onto the mattress. He stared at the ceiling, mind still racing with thoughts about what just happened. 
He conversed with a person, who didn’t know who he was. Kinda conversed. At least he talked with somebody. Jackson had to admit, it felt nice speaking to someone, who didn’t immediately judge him.
While Jackson continued to call the number and talk with Baby nearly every night, he made little to no progress with you. And knowing the payment from Bambam wouldn’t last forever let his mood plummet even more. He needed his dad to forgive him.
Jackson curled into himself on the mattress and grabbed his phone, dialling the number like second nature. “Hey baby”, he whispered once the call connected.
“Hey”, her strangled voice greeted him.
Jackson piped up immediately, sitting on his bed now with a deep frown. “What happened?” He heard the soft sniffles on the other side of the phone, pressing for an answer.
“Nothing really. We should focus on you anyway.”
Part of Jackson knew his past self would have done exactly that but over the time he had talked to this soft voice he had developed feelings. So now he wouldn’t simply dismiss her condition. 
He heard a choked laugh followed by more sniffles. “It’s just” - a deep sigh - “I’m not cut out for this job.”
“Why not? You’re doing amazing!”
She laughed again, less choked up this time. “You’re the only one that thinks so. I just got yelled at by some geezer because I wasn’t moaning loud enough for him.” Jackson heard the soft hiccup, realising she actually cried. “I never wanted to do this job but without it I can’t earn enough money.”
“I can pay you”, Jackson blurted out - realising a second too late that he had no means to actually do that. He cursed himself for not thinking before speaking.
“I couldn’t ask that from you. I just - I just need to endure this a little longer.”
Jackson wanted to say something, wanted to cheer her up again but for once he didn’t know what to say to her. The worry about money and jobs faintly reminded him of you and a pang of guilt hit his stomach.
“You didn’t sound so chipper either. What’s on your mind?”
“A lot”, Jackson admitted as he laid down on the mattress again. “My father kicked me out of my home and I haven’t been in contact with my family ever since.” He sighed deeply. “I miss my mom.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is there a way for your father to reconsider?”
Jackson scoffed and shook his head. “Probably not. This stubborn old man doesn’t even consider me as his son anymore. All that because I drove his car into the pool during a party.”
“You what?” Jackson heard the shocked inhale, followed by a disbelieving chuckle. “Oh wow, my parents would have buried me alive.”
“It wasn’t even his favourite car.” Jackson pouted momentarily before a small smile stretched over his lips. 
“Oh, I see”, her tone became teasing, “then it isn’t that bad.”
“Right?” 
She laughed softly and Jackson could imagine her shaking her head at him. “Did you ever consider that your dad wants you to take responsibility for your actions?”
“How should I do that?”
“I don’t know, maybe work diligently instead of partying and driving cars into pools.” She giggled lightly. “Or are you asking how to take responsibility?”
Jackson grinned into the darkness of his room. “Maybe”, he whispered, “Is there a way to train it?”
“Maybe”, she whispered back, her breath hitching softly. “Would you take responsibility for my heart pounding so quickly whenever I talk to you?” 
Jackson exhaled loudly, barely able to contain the excitement coursing through his whole body. “So you’re saying I’m responsible for that, baby?”
“Yes.”
The answer wasn’t more than a breath but that was enough to make his own heart flutter like crazy. “And how should I take responsibility for that?” 
“I don’t know”, she giggled quietly and Jackson knew she played coy. 
“How about making you feel really good tonight? Would you like that, baby?” Upon hearing her soft hum Jackson continued speaking. He guided you with his words, telling you exactly what you should do.
It started from stripping down, to twisting and pinching the nipples down to playing with that sweet little pussy. 
Jackson stroked himself lazily, more focused on her moans and irregular breaths. If he concentrated enough, he could even hear the lewd noises created by her slicked fingers going in and out of her core. “That’s it, baby”, he exhaled slowly. “Try curling your fingers now whenever you push them deep inside.”
The high pitched whine he received afterwards was everything to Jackson. “That’s it, keep doing that and right when it feels like too much, cum.”
Her whimpers quickened and turned desperate, while the lewd noises got louder. She choked on thin air, followed by a long moan. “Fuck me”, she whispered after a few moments, slowly coming down from her high.
“Next time”, Jackson teased, finishing his own pleasure with a few more strokes. He cleaned himself up and dropped back down on the mattress, silently listening to her cleaning up as well.
“Do you think my father would forgive me when I pay the repair costs of the car?” Jackson dreaded the end of the phone call, fearing he would feel as worthless and unimportant again. 
“I’m not sure”, her soft voice sounded through the darkness, “but it would be a beginning. Either way I’m cheering for you.”
Jackson grinned, feeling how his heart eased down again. “Thank you.” He placed one of his hands over his chest. “Your words really cheer me up.”
“I’m your girl for as long as you want me.”
‘I’ll always want you.’ That’s what Jackson thought but he was too afraid saying these words out loud. At least not yet. “I’ll let my girl sleep for tonight now. And update you next time.” With that Jackson bid his goodbye and cut the call, staring for a moment longer up towards the ceiling. 
He needed a job to start turning things around.
“I need you to help me get a job”, Jackson blurted out the second he came into the kitchen the next morning, looking at you with determination in his eyes and completely forgetting to greet you first.
“Huh?”
Jackson rolled his eyes before he sat down on the opposite side from you. “You’re working several jobs, don’t you? Help me introduce myself to one of your bosses so I can work there too.”
You stared at him as if he had grown a second head. “I, uh, what?”
“I need a job and I’m asking for your help.” Jackson pursed his lips, how could you be so dense. 
“I guess you can join me at the café”, you wondered out loud, tapping your lips with the spoon in your hand. “The boss is constantly complaining about not having enough staff and I can’t take more shifts.”
“Great! Let’s do this!” 
You got assigned to ease Jackson into the job at the café. Jackson wasn’t too fond of that idea at first, not wanting to make a fool out of himself in front of you. Though your everlasting patience and easy to follow explanations helped him learn quickly.
Soon enough Jackson was able to take over shifts without your help until he almost worked full time at the café. 
Having the same job as you had some other perks as well. It made it easier to talk to you at the apartment when both of you were in the kitchen or living room. Even Bambam noticed the slight shift between you. 
“I got my first paycheck today”, Jackson mumbled into the phone, staring down at the piece of paper. The amount was nothing compared to what he was used to but it felt like so much more.
“That’s wonderful”, her soft voice resonated through his whole body. “What are you going to use it for?”
Jackson shrugged his shoulders, suddenly thinking of you. “I guess I’m using it for the right thing.” 
She giggled softly. “Sounds like you’re taking responsibility.”
“Am I?” Jackson chuckled lowly and shook his head. “Maybe I am.”
The very next day he confronted you in the kitchen again, handing you his paycheck. “For rent and stuff.”
You stared down at the check and then back up at him again. “All of it? You can’t be serious.”
“Lived here long enough without doing a thing”, Jackson mumbled and avoided looking at you. “I don’t have any other expenses for now. I want to take responsibility and help out. Though I might need some teaching for that.” 
You smiled at him, tilting your head a little. “I can do that”, you said softly as you placed your hand on his lower arm and squeezed it reassuringly.
Jackson stared at you, the ghost of your touch still on his arm. Something within his mind bugged him about this situation but he couldn’t put a finger on it, knowing he never experienced a situation like this before. His gaze dropped down to your lips and back up again, while his heart started pounding against his ribcage.
Was he just projecting or wishfully thinking - maybe even hoping - the voice that helped him so much all this time on the phone might be yours after all? He quickly shook his head before he nodded slowly and thanked you, going back into his room.
His heart nearly jumped out of his throat as he waited for the phone call to connect. Throughout the whole day he had been thinking about it and Jackson desperately needed to get that thought out of his head again. “Hey baby.”
“Hey, it’s good to hear you again”, her tone was light as she spoke. “You made me miss you.”
Jackson laughed quietly. “I called yesterday and we both know I can’t call during the day.”
“I still missed you.” 
“Oh, did my baby miss me? How can I make it up to you, hm?” Jackson teased as he palmed himself through his pants. “I have a feeling you’re a little desperate for me, aren’t you?”
She breathed shakily, her lust apparent even for Jackson on the other side of the line. 
“Tell me, baby, what do you want?”
“Want you.”
Jackson exhaled and threw his head back, pressing even harder down on his cock. “Oh baby”, he mumbled into the phone, his voice husky with lust. “Do me a favour and play with yourself. Don’t push your fingers in though. Not yet at least.” He groaned upon hearing the soft whimpers, his own hand quickly going into his pants as well. Jackson closed his eyes, fully emerging into this little fantasy. “Shit, I love those tiny moans and whimpers. You’re driving me crazy, Y/N.”
“Fuck, Jackson, please.”
Jackson stilled, his eyes wide open. “What?” The line went eerily silent and before he could say anything else the call got cut.
He barely noticed how he dropped his phone, his body moving on autopilot as he burst into your room. Jackson stared at you, sitting in the corner of your bed, one hand clutched over your mouth and eyes widened in shock.
You ever so slowly pulled your hand away from your lips. “I’m so sorry…”
Jackson quickly crossed the distance between you two, leaning on the bed with one knee and grabbing your face so he could pull you into a deep kiss.
You yelped in surprise but it got drowned out by his lips crashing against yours. Your hands held onto his shirt, unconsciously pulling Jackson closer against your form. 
Only when the both of you needed air did you separate, panting heavily. Jackson caressed your cheek with his thumb, his gaze jumping between your eyes. “I wanted to do that for so long.” He kissed you again. Now with less force. Instead Jackson took his time exploring you and your needs with that kiss, moving you around the bed until you were flat on your back and he hovered above you.
Jackson kissed down your jawline and your neck, murmuring sweet promises against your skin. One of his hands wandered downwards along your side, playing with the hem of your shirt where his knuckles brushed over your bare stomach every now and then. 
You reacted so well to Jackson’s soft ministrations, writhing, moaning and whimpering underneath him. “You should quit that job”, he whispered, pushing your shirt up to reveal your stomach. He littered the bare skin with kisses, his thumbs brushing against the underside of your boobs. “Those geezers don’t deserve you, don’t deserve hearing you.”
You groaned and arched your back, pleading for him to touch you. With swift hands you shimmied out of your shirt and pants, being almost completely naked underneath him.
Jackson leaned down and kissed your breasts - even nipped at your perked nipples gently. “I can’t believe you were this close all the time.” He groaned from the lust building inside of him. “You helped me all this time, brightened my otherwise dull day.” Jackson placed his hands on your knees and pushed your legs apart, positioning himself between them. “Let me repay you for that, love. What do you want?”
“Want you”, you breathed out, gaze clouded with desire. “Please, I want you.”
Jackson cursed and nearly ripped your panties off. He inhaled your sweet scent, groaning with want, as he pushed his tongue between your folds. 
You wanted to shut your legs but Jackson easily held them open, continuing to fuck you with his tongue. Your choked gasps of pleasure turned into moans and whining as he started circling your nub with his thumb.  “Oh, Jackson, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, please.”
“What do you need, love?” He asked without moving away from your core, continuing to pleasure you while he waited for your answer. “You’re so wet for me and you taste so incredibly sweet.”
“Please, Jackson, please”, you threw your head back, quivering under his touch, “I need your cock, please. Please, fuck me.”
Once again Jackson cursed and pushed himself away, smirking upon hearing your disappointed whining. He discarded his own clothes as fast as possible, not paying attention to where he threw them, and crawled back over you. He lowered his hips, rubbing his thick shaft along your folds until it was covered in your wetness.
With one hand Jackson aligned the head of his cock with your entrance, carefully pushing into you. “So fucking tight”, he grunted, his own pleasure spiking up like crazy. After he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, Jackson leaned down and kissed you. He brushed a few strands of hair out of your face and simply admired the sight underneath him. “Shit, you’re gorgeous.”
Your walls clenched around his shaft, making Jackson groan from the sensation. “Please fuck me”, you mumbled softly, running your fingers through his hair. 
“With pleasure.” Jackson pulled back until only the tip of his cock remained inside you, just to slam his whole length back into you. He pumped into you over and over again, eliciting one sweet sound from you after another. 
Jackson felt your walls clenching around his dick, keeping it in a vice grip. The second you screamed his name and spasmed underneath him, Jackson pulled out. He rubbed your nub with his thumb while he pumped his hard cock until his seed spurted out and painted your stomach white.
Breathing heavily Jackson got up and grabbed some tissues from your desk, coming back and cleaning you up. Afterwards he plopped down next to you, wrapping an arm around your middle and pulling you close.
“Jackson?” You asked hesitantly, turning in his hold until you looked at him. “What does this mean for us now?”
“Like I said, hopefully you quit that job. I don’t think I could share you any longer.” He grinned lovingly and kissed your forehead, the grin getting even wider when you giggled. “I’ll do anything to hear you laugh, love.”
“You were the only one keeping me there.”
Jackson growled playfully and nipped at your neck. “You have me here now.”
“Even if your dad forgives you?”
“Even then. Just be prepared for my mom to come over at any given time.” He laughed lightly and kissed you again. “But until that happens it’s only the two of us.”
© all rights reserved
Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland​ 
81 notes · View notes
hobeemin · 2 years
Text
cruel
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🔥 genre: smut, angst, e2l, supernatural
🔥 pairing: demon!jackson wang x demon!(f) poc reader
🔥 rating: 18+
🔥 warning(s): swearing, fire, exhibitionism, teasing, light choking, kissing, multiple positions, powers, demons
🔥 word count: 851
🔥 credits: a HUGE HUGE thank you to @playmetheclassics and @sugakookitty thank you both for looking this over for me cause I was freaking out.
resources for banner found here ~ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5
🔥 a/n: @agustdef​ niah, aka my younger sibling, i’m wishing you the happiest of birthdays!!! i hope you enjoy this fic!! i’m not gonna get sappy cause we don’t do that over here lol.
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He sat among the bodies, toying with any that dared come close. His throne, a large obsidian shape, hypnotized anyone who stepped close. They didn’t realize what lurked in the shadows. His appetite was insatiable. Eyes the color of burning coals, skin almost leathery in nature as if soot covered his limbs. But his physique was breathtaking. No one could deny him that.
Jackson was proud, powerful, and gorgeous. Eons of power surged through his bones.
And yet he wanted more. 
He was bored of this world. Nothing challenged him anymore. He sighed heavily as smoke curled from his nostrils. It danced around his head slowly. 
And then she appeared. His eyes rounded for a moment before going back to his neutral expression. Across the rubble, it looked as if she was floating. Through the dust and smoke, she glowed. 
Her eyes set on him as a ghost of a smirk appeared on her face.
So this is who made nations tremble. 
He stood, closing the distance between them instantaneously.
No words needed to be spoken as both their lips sought the other out hungrily. The flame started small as each wrestled for dominance. His fingers dug into her hips, leaving bruises as her nails scratched along his skin, leaving dark, red, angry marks.
It was animalistic, feral, and oh so sensual.
Pulling back to tug on her lip with his teeth, he growled softly.
“Who are you?”
She chuckled, pressing her palm to his chest and shoved him to the ground. Hiking up her dress, she licked her lips as she straddled him.
“Do you desire me?”
He bobbed his head without any hesitation. Something in her voice seemed to lull him into a stupor. He felt heavy…heady. She was the only thing he wanted.
“Who are you?”
She bit down on her lower lip, dragging her nails down his chest and letting them dip to his Orion’s belt. “I think we’re beyond introductions, Jackson.”
The sound of his name on her tongue stirred something in him. She felt his cock twitch against her inner thigh.
“Seems something else is paying attention,” she teased. “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already gone.”
Jackson gritted his teeth, glaring hard at her. “You think this is funny?”
She tilted her head to the left and then right before answering. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
His hands encompassed her ass cheeks, squeezing them. “I don’t like being considered a joke.”
“I didn’t say that; you did.”
With a hiss, he flipped their positions. Eyes glowing red, he leaned in, placing hot kisses along her neck and jawline.
“You’re insufferable.”
“Yet you put up with it every time.”
Pushing his pants down just enough for his cock to spring out. It slapped against her thigh as he guided it against her bare lips. He grunted, coating the tip in her arousal.
“Just how I remember.”
Her face formed into a scowl as she wrapped her ankles around his lower back, lifting her hips to push him further in.
“Say less. Fuck me. Now.”
Damn, he loved her bossiness. And fuck her, he did. Ignoring the watchful eyes and judgments, their sounds of pleasure filled the air. One hand on his back and the other grounding her in place, she was in a state of bliss.
He rolled over for her to be on top as she bounced harder. Jackson’s eyes rolled back as he matched her rhythm. It was almost too much for him. She squeezed her breasts, still moving on top, her tongue snaked out to coat her lips.
“What’s my name?”
His hips stuttered as he tried to concentrate. “You never-“
“Jackson,” she cooed. “Say it. I know you can.”
“I-I,” he stammered, trying to keep his mind clear.
She rolled her hips, making him groan out. “Fuck…it’s…it’s-“
She moaned as the feeling of the knots in the stomach began to unravel. “G-Go ahead, Jackson…say it.”
“Shit!!! You feel so good hugging my cock, baby. G-Gonna cum in that pretty pussy.”
She slowed her movements as she hissed. “Not unless you say my name!”
“FUCK!!! Y/N!!!!”
She gave one last roll as waves crashed over her body; she screamed into the vast wasteland as it shook the ground. Jackson watched her in awe as his orgasm came just as hard. He cried out as he spilled his seed, filling her to the brim, sitting up to hold onto her until he finished. 
He shuddered, kissing her lips before falling back down. Y/N skin felt ignited as she grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up towards her.
“I win.”
Jackson’s eyes widened in fear. “N-NO!”
Flames burst from his body, licking her skin as she absorbed it. She pushed him down, standing as the vortex opened, dragging him in. She blew a kiss as he yelled before disappearing.
Rolling her shoulders with a sigh, she glanced around the area.
“Amateurs.”
A chill ran through her body as fingers crawled up her neck with a squeeze. Jackson reached in to nip her earlobe with a quiet laugh.
“Oh, we’ve only just begun.”
54 notes · View notes
cherryeol04 · 4 months
Text
The Thing in the Lake (M)
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➻ Pairings: Mark x Jackson
➻ Genre: Horror au, Thriller au, Camping Au
➻ Additional: humor, romance, ghost story
➻ Word Count: 3.4K
➻ Warnings: graphic depictions of violence & gore
➻ Author’s notes: This story is cross posted on multiple sites under the same username!
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“So the plan is to get totally wasted.” Jackson said happily as he plopped down in one of the folding chairs, grinning as he held the bottle of vodka in his hands. The other’s looked at him with a raised brow and he frowned. “What?”
“If you wanted to get drunk, then why did you even suggest coming here?” Mark asked as he looked over at the other quizzically, laughing softly. “Jackson you could have stayed back in town and gone to Halloween parties with Amber like you planned.” he said.
Jackson snorted as he opened the bottle and sniffed it for a moment before looking back at Mark. “And miss spending time with you? What kind of boyfriend would I be?” he asked and quickly pointed to Yugyeom, whose mouth was open and ready for a snarky comment. “Quiet, no one asked you.” he said and snorted. “I would be a very bad boyfriend.” he replied and smiled. “Besides, it’s the holiday season. All holidays are spent with your lovers right?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?” Youngjae asked with a raised brow. “Or do you really want an answer to that?”
“I really want an answer to that. I don’t know these things.” Jackson said with a scoff. “Come on Youngjae, I’m new to this whole good boyfriend thing. I need a little guidance.” he pleaded. Mark laughed and reached over and took the bottle from Jackson’s hand and pressed the mouth to Jackson’s lips. 
“Shut up and drink.” he chuckled and looked around their little campfire that they had going. It was Jackson’s idea to come out to the campsite near the lake just outside the city. It wasn’t a remote area, but it felt like it was an excellent place for young lovers to go and spend romantic nights alone. Or for a group of friends, such as they were, to spend one night getting plastered as they told ghost stories and celebrated Halloween. 
“So booze, check.” BamBam said. “Friends...more or less check.” he said and laughed when Jinyoung smacked him with the plushie peach pillow he was holding. “Campfire, check. Time to enjoy ourselves on this fine spooky night. What should we do first? Get drunk? Make smores? Tell ghost stories or fuck?”
“We’re not fucking out here.” Youngjae said quickly with a wag of his finger.
“Why not? Brings you closer with nature.” Yugyeom laughed. “What? Didn’t bring the lube.” he teased.
“Shut up Yugyeom. Why would we have come all the way out here just to fuck?” Youngjae questioned.
“Good question. We didn’t. We came out here to have fun and be together.” Jaebum said. “So let’s have fun!”
“Alright, who brought mom?” Jackson asked and grinned as he passed the bottle of vodka over to BamBam who took a swig from it. “Don’t be a Debby Downer Jaebum. I plan to fuck Mark good in the tent later.” he said and threw a wink to his blushing boyfriend.
“Do you mean, Mark plans to fuck you good? We all know you don’t top.” BamBam teased, laughing as Jackson flicked him off.
“S’mores time yes?” Youngjae jumped in as he grabbed the bag with the marshmallows in it and held it up. “Come one, let’s make them and tell some ghost stories.” he said with an eager expression that had everyone stunned in silence.
“I mean…” Jaebum started and coughed to clear his throat. “I know I’m mom and all, but haven’t you fucked the prude out of him already Jinyoung?” he asked, staring at the younger male next to him who was just as in shock at his boyfriend’s words as Jaebum had been.
“Guess I didn’t do a good job.”
“Oh come on guys.” Youngjae whined. “Why is it so bad that I don’t want to talk or listen to talk of fucking and sex and relationships that I have no business knowing about? What you all do is all up to you. Why do I need to be a part of it?” he questioned.
“How did he get into our best friend club?” Yugyeom asked, pointing to Youngjae in question. “We’re men Jae, we talk about this stuff all the time. You need to get used to it. It doesn’t make you dirty or anything. If anything, it’s an expression of our love for our boyfriends and our trust in each other as friends.” 
“Someone remove him from Philosophy class.” Bambam laughed and took the bag of marshmallows from Youngjae and opened it. He pulled one out and tossed it at Yugyeom, laughing. Yugyeom stuck out at his tongue at the other and rolled his eyes.
“Just relax Youngjae, okay? The hyungs are here to watch over us. Tonight we get shit faced drunk and have a good time!” Yugyeom said happily.
“We’re not your babysitters.” Jaebum laughed as he stood and walked over to his tent and grabbed the back of supplies he had been told to bring. He pulled out the little dowels for everyone and passed them out before tossing a box of graham crackers to Mark. “You’ll be our designated graham boy.” he chuckled and then looked at Jinyoung who held up the chocolate bars.
“I’ve got the chocolate.” he said happily. 
“Good, let’s get cooking. All this talk about food is making me hungry.” Mark said and reached towards BamBam for a marshmallow.
“I thought we were talking about sex.” Jackson inquired. 
“That too.” Mark agreed with a laugh and stuck his marshmallow into the fire to warm. The others followed soon afterwards as they were given their marshmallow and they sat around in silence for a while. They didn’t need to talk or anything. Instead they just stared at the fire, or worked silently on crafting the best s’more, each trying to outdo each other. 
“So what kind of stories should we tell?” BamBam asked after about ten minutes of silence. He was fighting with his gooey marshmallow to stay on the cracker long enough to grab a few bars of the chocolate to put on it. “Like should it be true stories or shit we make up?” he asked. 
“True stories, duh.” Jackson grumbled through a mouthful of s’more. “You’re all crap at making up stuff.”
“I take offense to that.” Youngjae grumbled and glared at Jackson. The young literature major was very good at making up stories. He had to do so for many of his class assignments and his teachers always gave him high marks. So he had to be good, right?
“Who cares if we make it up or not?” Jinyoung asked and grinned. “Let’s just tell stories okay?” he said. Looking over at Youngjae, he grinned as he smeared chocolate over his nose, pulling a whine from him. 
“Alright, who’s first?” Yugyeom asked. With no one speaking up, a quick round of rock, paper, scissors was played until the order was decided. After a few failed stories from Bambam, Yugyeom and Jinyoung, it became Youngjae’s turn and the boys settled back in their chairs, eyes locked on the male as he prepared to tell his story.
“It better be good, Mr. Lit Major.” Jackson hummed as he sipped his cup. Youngjae rolled his eyes at him and cleared his throat.
“So I know a few of you aren’t natives of this province….or country.” he said and eyed Mark, Jackson and then BamBam. “Anyway, there is a legend in these parts that is really creepy.” 
“Ooh what? Mr. Slasher Killer?” Jackson taunted and grunted when Mark smacked his chest.
“Shut up.” he hissed at him. 
Youngjae threw a marshmallow at Jackson and shook his head. “Anyway, there is a legend about this lake.” Youngjae continued as he leaned in, hands folded over his lap. “About five years ago there was a string of murders that happened here. Young kids would come out here to party and fuck; what normal college kids would do. A group of friends ventured out here for a weekend getaway. They were here from Friday night and supposed to return home on Monday. When none came back they were reported missing. Police investigated and when they finally came out here to the campsites they found their mutilated bodies. Some parts were hanging in the trees.” He said and pointed to the large tree limb that hung over them. “Other parts strewn about, but there was a distinct way these body parts were left. They created a trail and the police followed it all the way down to the dock of the lake.”
“It was Jason!” Jackson announced.  Shaking his head, Mark reached out and covered Jackson’s mouth to keep him from talking again. 
“Now the police thought it was just some crazy killer, but when the body parts were examined it was said that it looked like their flesh had been ripped apart by jagged edges of something and then even found teeth lodged into a bone. And after further inspection, it was a tooth that didn't belong to any known animal in South Korea, k or the world.” 
“Really?” Bambam asked in shock. 
“Ah! That's not true.” Yugyeom shook his head. 
“It's true! Look it up.” Youngjae nodded and sat back, grinning. “You're turn hyung.” He called to Mark. 
“How about we just drink?” Jaebum asked. 
“What? Scared?” Youngjae teased and laughed at the other. 
“No, I'm bored. Look I brought my speakers. Let's just rock out and drink before passing out.”
“I second that motion!” Jinyoung chimed in.
“Third!” Jackson shouted through Mark’s hand. 
“Oh you big old party poopers.” Yugyeom huffed and glared at them. “Fine, let’s party.”  The others cheered. Setting up the speakers, Jaebum connected his phone to them and started the music, officially starting their Halloween bash out in the woods. Yugyeom, as always, was the first to be up and dancing, Bambam joining him shortly after. 
Youngjae spent the majority of the time laughing loudly at the two dancing, Jinyoung talking with Jaebum about who knows what. Jackson watched them all with a smile before glancing at Mark. The other seemed enraptured with what was going on, but he wanted to change that. He had come up with this idea because he knew Mark liked camping. He also knew that he wanted to try fucking outside. So what better way than to combine the two and Mark extremely happy?
Grinning, he stood and walked over and took Mark’s hand, pulling him out of his chair and tugging him away from the campsite. 
“Jackson, where are we going?” Mark asked as he stayed close to the other, following him down a well made path that eventually led them to the dock on the lake. “Oh Jackson come on.”
“What, scared of the monster lurking in?” Jackson teased, wiggling his fingers in Mark’s direction with a laugh. 
“Honestly, yes. I'm going back.” Mark said and turned to head back to the camp, but was stopped as Jackson grabbed his arm and pulled him back against his chest. 
“Oh come babe. That was just a story. There is no monster in the lake.” Jackson said, head dipping in to place gentle kisses along his neck. “Come on baby. Let's just have a little fun.” He cooed as he ran his hands over Mark’s chest and sides. “What do you say?”
Mark leaned back against him and whimpered softly as he enjoyed the touch of his boyfriend on his body. “Jackson.” Mark groaned.  “I hate you can make me feel this way and I can't fight back.”
“Don't fight it Mark.” Jackson encouraged as he grabbed the hem of Mark’s shirt and pulled it up slowly, teasingly. “Give in and let's play. I'll make you feel really good.” Jackson tried to tempt the other. 
“God I know you will.” Mark muttered, letting Jackson pull his shirt off and toss it to the ground. Turning, he pressed against the other and kissed him hard, hand cupping the back of Jackson’s head for a moment before it dropped and started tugging on the other’s clothes. 
In a matter of minutes they were both stripped bare and Jackson guided Mark into the water, shivering and laughing at first at how cold it was. Staying near the dock, Jackson pressed Mark against one of the support beams, his lips finding his once more. Soft moans left Mark as he returned the kiss, their hands running over each other's bodies and pressing into hotspots.
They were growing more needy and impatient. The last time they had sex was nearly two months ago when the new semester began. They needed more than anything at the moment and the tension between them was mounting the further they went. 
“Oh fuck Jackson.” Mark moaned, head falling back to rest against the hard wound. Long arms wrapped around Jackson’s neck as one leg wound around his waist. Jackson grabbed onto the deck behind him, using it as a balance and leverage as he thrusted into Mark slowly. “Shit just like that baby.” Mark groaned out, fingers raking through Jackson’s hair. 
“Fuck baby you feel so damn good around me.” Jackson groaned out in pleasure. “Always so tight and hot. Fuck, I love you so much Mark.” Mark panted softly and smiled widely as he leaned in and kissed him hard, lips parting as Jackson’s tongue pushed into his mouth. Their tongues danced around each other, fighting for dominance as Jackson’s pace grew faster and harder. 
Breaking the kiss, Mark whimpered as he rested his head on Jackson’s shoulder as his moans grew louder. “Yes Jackson. Jackson!” He trembled against the other, water lapping at their chests as they moved together, rocking frantically as they chased their orgasms. Jackson’s cock was hitting that spot inside of Mark so well that the other was clenching tightly around his cock, the heat coiling so tightly inside him. Mark could feel his end nearing and just as he reached his peak, he was yanked back from it quickly as searing hot pain ran through his body, starting in his left leg.
“Ow! Shit!” Mark jerked and pushed Jackson away from him. Tears were already welling as he tried to grab into the deck. “Oh my god!”
“Mark? What's wrong?” Jackson asked worriedly, watching as his boyfriend tried and failed many times to climb out of the water. 
“My leg! Fuck get me out of the water!” he said urgently. Chewing on his lower lip, Jackson moved behind Mark and helped the other out of the water and onto the deck. His eyes moved to Mark’s leg and widened as he stared at the large chunk of flesh that was missing from it. 
“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Mark shouted as he watched the blood pour from his wound. Jackson felt his heart race and he looked around the water. He thought he saw something appear before ducking back under to his left, but he didn't let himself stay and think about it. He grabbed onto the deck and hauled himself out of the water quickly. 
“Fuck, fuck.” Jackson panted and for a moment searched the deck for something to help Mark. He grabbed one of their shirts and the belt from his pants and dropped to his knees next to the other. 
“Jackson!” Mark cried out in pain. 
“It's okay baby. I'm here. I'm here.” Jackson assured him as he wrapped the shirt around the wound, knotting it in place. He took the belt next and wrapped it a few inches above the wound and tightened it around his leg as tight as he could to stop the blood flow. Mark’s pained screams only grew louder through the process and it was killing Jackson on the inside. 
“I'm so sorry baby.” Jackson apologized. He was going to say something else, but something hit the beams of the dock and he could hear the splintering crack of the wood and a sickening realization sunk in. “Okay Mark. Come on. Up we go.” He said and helped to pull Mark up onto his one foot. The other was unsteady and wobbled as pain continued to course through his body. Jackson doubted the other could walk even with his help and with doom looming over them, they couldn't spare a second. So bending, he slipped his arms around Mark and lifted the other up into his arms and started  running as the beams were struck by something again. 
His feet barely touched the dry ground when the dock gave and caved into the water behind him. Jackson didn't look back though. He clutched tightly to Mark as he ran with the other, heading back to the site.  “Jaebum! Jaebum Hyung, start the jeep!” he shouted, hoping the others could hear him over the music. It didn't seem like they could though, and they got a huge shock when the pair came running in naked. 
“Whoa. What the fuck happened?” Jinyoung asked as he stood and looked at the two. 
“Oh my god is he bleeding? What happened to Mark?” Jaebum asked as he stared at the dark and wet shirt around Mark’s leg. 
“No time, get in the fucking jeep!” Jackson shouted as he ran to the sitting vehicle and opened the back seat, helping Mark in before looking back. “Now!”
“But our stuff.” Youngjae protested.
“Fuck our stuff. There is something in the lake now let's go!” Jackson said urgently. The others looked at each other, trying to debate if they wanted to believe Jackson or maybe thought he was just too damn drunk, but in the end they all got up and piled into the jeep. Jaebum took to the wheel and started the car, turning the lights on as everyone got situated. 
“What happened to mark?” Yugyeom asked. 
“Something bit me in the water!” Mark sobbed and cried out in pain. 
“It took a fucking chunk out of his leg!” 
“What are you talking about?” Jaebum asked as he turned to look back at the other. “That sounds fucking crazy.”
“I know it does, but it's the truth!” Jackson insisted. The chaos of the jeep came to a screeching halt as Youngjae suddenly grabbed Jaebum’s arm. 
“Reverse. Reverse. Reverse!” he shouted and Jaebum turned around in time to see some creature heading straight for them, mouth open wide, rows of sharp teeth on display. Jaebum threw the jeep in reverse and stepped on the gas, tires squealing as they lurched backwards and to the side as the jeep moved. Throwing the jeep into drive, the tires skidded as they lurched forward and sped off, heading back onto the main. 
“Holy fuck! Holy fuck!” Bambam shouted as he turned and watched as they drove off the creature becoming nothing but a distant dot, quickly giving up on them. 
“Jesus christ.” Youngjae panted. 
“What the hell was that?!” Jinyoung shouted in shock. 
“I don't know, but whatever it was, it bit Mark and collapsed the dock!” Jackson said, his arms wound tightly around his boyfriend as he rocked the sobbing male gently. “Shhh, baby. It's okay. We're taking you to the hospital. It'll be okay baby.” Jackson tried to reassure him. 
“It's real.” Youngjae whispered. 
“What?” Yugyeom asked. 
“It's real. The story I told. It's really real and that was the fucking thing that killed those people.” Youngjae said, his heart racing. “We just escaped death.”
“Good. I don't plan to die anytime soon.” Jaebum said. “Don't worry Mark, we'll be at the hospital soon.”
~_~
The group didn't return to collect their stuff until the next morning with the help of a police escort. After reporting the incident and taking testimonies, the police went out to search the area but found no trace of whatever creature they had encountered the night before. Though the statements of the dock being broken and submerged into the lake were true. Their campsite had been left untouched, however, which baffled the police even more and added to the mystery. Not a single thing out of place, not even the cooler had been disturbed by the raccoons that would have undoubtedly come out to scavenge. 
Whatever happened at the lake would remain a mystery. The police report would read that it was a horrible camping accident committed by drunk college students. Mark, though missing some of his calf, would eventually heal and be released from the hospital a few months later with a clean bill of health. And while time slowly healed all physical wounds, nothing would be able to erase the memories of that night and the terrible creature that tried to kill them. 
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misswoozi · 10 months
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Oh, is Jackson Wang discourse allowed? Can I ask how you headcanon him?
It's allowed but I don't know if I know him well enough to FULLY discuss him. Like I see him as bisexual with a slight preference for men, I think he's a top, I think he likes choking and I think he likes dirty talk. Is that enough for discourse? 😭
ALSO I SHIP HIM WITH TAEMIN
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c1nnam00n · 1 month
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me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines
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kamaluhkhan · 3 months
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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)
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pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)
word count: 8.5k
summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.
warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!
author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡
♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo
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(i. you have a sharp tongue)
fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.
"you'll get used to it."
luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 
you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer. 
“the shitty mattress?”
“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.” 
your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous. 
“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”
“yeah, i know. i’m —”
“y/n!”
you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.
“someone stole my candy.”
“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.
maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”
“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?” 
some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in. 
“what? n-no!” 
“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”
chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you. 
“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”
a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.
 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp. 
it just didn't seem fair. 
there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods. 
“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”
you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest. 
“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest. 
every  demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they  didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.
you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself. 
“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”
“so, who’s your godly parent?”
you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.
luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.
"nemesis. goddess of revenge."
"that's....hardcore."
you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”
“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?” 
“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.
“guess i was just lucky, then.”
luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching. 
“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.” 
“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”
“yeah. exactly.” 
you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:
“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze. 
chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too. 
“she deserved more.” 
luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there. 
“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”
we all do. 
neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise. 
(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)
“slow down, tiger.” 
your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm. 
“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”
luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.  
his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day. 
“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.” 
luke bristled at your nickname for him. 
sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.
everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go. 
case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.  
as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in. 
“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly. 
 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again. 
“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”
luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”
“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."
fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down. 
the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse. 
"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”
“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled. 
“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”
when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.
“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”
“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.
“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” 
you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.  
later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning. 
when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone? 
luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one. 
"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward." 
whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you. 
(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)
“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”
“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”
luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp. 
annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.  
before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready. 
a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him. 
luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through. 
he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him. 
his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.
you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.
luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.
“your nose.”
luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood. 
“you don’t have to —”
“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased. 
it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess. 
it was pathetic how much power you had over him.
“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”
he couldn’t argue with that.
a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson. 
“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?” 
luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.
he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken. 
he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.
“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”
a pause.
“is that a bad thing?”
“not usually, no.” 
you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer. 
“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”
you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.  
“you won’t.”
you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.
“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”
luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too. 
he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time. 
it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more. 
he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips. 
luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die. 
it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy. 
how many heroes could claim that?
when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away. 
you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze. 
“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse. 
“anything.”
“come back alive.”
luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.
“i promise.”
(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)
the nightmares were getting worse. 
luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.
“luke.” 
your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality. 
he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).
“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie. 
like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat. 
your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him. 
luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for. 
what a fucking joke.
every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did. 
again: a fucking joke.
nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.
every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it. 
of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair. 
most of all, you cared about luke.
“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates. 
“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes. 
“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.” 
your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes. 
for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.
since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.
luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that. 
but, at what cost?
(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)
luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.
you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you. 
“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.
“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”
luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.
“what happened?” 
you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush. 
“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….” 
“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”
you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”
luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right. 
in fact, luke loved that about you.
no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for. 
percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached. 
“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?” 
you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.
“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”
“about percy?” 
luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”
you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 
“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”
luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”
“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.” 
you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said. 
satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow. 
the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air. 
“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”
“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”
you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch. 
“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.
“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”
luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 
to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp. 
and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him. 
by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment. 
you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door. 
“hey. are we okay?”
luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.
he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.
“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.
“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”
“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”
“yeah, i know, it’s just —”
“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”
“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.
what in the name of hades were you talking about?
“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.
“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire. 
sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.
“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”
“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.  
(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)
your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god. 
he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy. 
everything was falling into place. 
all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.  
unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you. 
you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.
you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.
luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles. 
and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist. 
meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him. 
luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey. 
the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy. 
katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.
a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.
“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.
“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?” 
 “they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”
“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”
you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”
“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true. 
“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”
luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him. 
nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it. 
“no. i’m good.”
biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.
“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”
you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.
“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”
“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”
“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”
you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down. 
in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.
not yet. 
“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”
luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog. 
luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more. 
“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.
“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”
“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”
luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.
“why…why would you agree to do that?”
you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously. 
“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”
“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.
“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”
a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.
“what hypothesis?”
you hesitated. 
“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind. 
“what hypothesis?” he asked again.
nothing but rushed footsteps.
“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.
third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.
“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 
this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well. 
“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.” 
your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.
did you know?
“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”
luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe! 
would you hate him, if you knew? 
you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage. 
"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.
a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.
“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?” 
as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns. 
“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.
“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”
“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.” 
the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment. 
luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.
in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips. 
so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.
no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.
the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe. 
maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.
and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his. 
“wait.”
it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath. 
“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”
luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.
(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)
luke had just left percy jackson to die.
he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time. 
the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.
“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”
for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted. 
“i don’t have much time.”
you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor. 
luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.
percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock. 
“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”
five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.
“i….i should have told you sooner.”
“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.” 
“it’s not delusional—”
“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”
luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being. 
“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”
“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.” 
“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.  
luke just needed to convince you.
“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone.  we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”
“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”
something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.
“you don’t mean that.”
“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”
you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 
“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor. 
in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.
luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape. 
“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice. 
a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.
you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.
a turquoise trident.
“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”
luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head. 
and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life. 
there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.
5K notes · View notes
moonalumi · 4 months
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getting fucked by ellie in every position all during one round <33
bc fucking ellie in only one position is not enough when she looks so hot n is so good, always
warnings- horndog ellie, strap on sex (r receiving), eating out ( r receiving), scissoring/ tribbing, dom!ellie, sub!reader, sub!ellie for like one sec, rough messy sex like rrly messy, manhandling, squirting, breeding kink, degrading names slut, bitch, ellie calls strap her dick like once
this is actually filthy so like read at your own risk
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innocent couch cuddling sesh; that’s it right? no, never with ellie. not with her hands skimming up and down your body. well, it was lovingly at first but her fingertips getting more and more grabby the longer she caress your curves. turning your chin, she kisses you. kisses you reallllll good. lips sucking in your bottom lip, tongue asking for permission to be let in. saliva covering your mouths. that kind of kiss that ellie knows gets you right where she wants you. under her.
“gnna put it in babe okay?” ellie asks, her breath fanning your neck as her tip slips into you.
“shut up just hurry” you mumble as you take ahold of her strap and push it inside you. ellie smirks at your desperation and the little moans you let out as she pushes deeper and deeper until her tip hits your cervix.
sighing contently at the feeling of just being full of her. that’s until she pulls out and rubs at your clit with her thumb.
“ellieee go back in pleaseee puh lease, inside!” you whine, inching your hips closer to her.
“i know i know, just wanna make sure she’s ready” ellie then spreads your folds and before you know it, strings of her spit are running down, collecting at your hole.
a whine of her name and ohmygod… ellie thrusts back into you, roughly grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting them up to your chest. that whine of her name turns into a scream at the sudden intrusion. your body jerking up and up at each slam of her hips that’s digging her strap inside you.
“ugh uah mmm el- lie… tooo de-ep” you can barely form a sentence, she’s just going so fast all you can focus on is how she’s in and out in and out.
“you feel me in your tummy? ohmf fuckkk l-look babe”
ellie guides your chin down to look at the imprint of her strap bulging out from inside you. that sight alone causes your eyes to roll back, head hitting the seat of the couch as you lay back again and your back to arch.
the rougher ellie slams into you, the more you get pushed up the couch until your head hits the jagged wooden arm rests of it. head hitting it over and over again as she thrusts in.
“owww oof el…”
“yeah…y-yeah shut up take it take it” she mutters through her thrusts.
“ellie!” you have to sit up and yell to get her attention. confused eyes scanning your face until she sees you rubbing your head.
“oh shit m’sorry baby” a quick peck to your forehead and she’s now kneeling on the floor, flipping you over and bending you over the couch. your face all smushed in the pillows of it.
she’s quick to push back into you again and pound you as she pleases without your complaining; or so she thought because the endless muffled whines and begs asking her to slow down or that she’s too deep just causes her to grip your ass and force you to meet her thrusts.
“thought you wanted it now your complaining it’s too much? just take it, know you can.”
“oh goddd elll… mmhp ellie ellie ellie”
that’s all you can muster up. brain going blank and all you can say is her name. all you can feel is her filling you. the only sounds in the room being the constant smack smack smack of your skins hitting, the sound of your pussy squelching, and of course the sound of heavy breaths, moans, and ellie muttering filth in your ears as always.
“filling this pussy up, you feel that? gonna get you fucking pregnant….what a slut i betchu like that”
“say my name bitch, let everyone know who’s fucking you right now”
“taking care of her so well i can hear ‘er…godamn you’re so wet, just love getting fucked like this don’t you?”
tears threatening to spill down your eyes, choked moans at every particular harsh slam to your cervix.
ellie’s thrusts stutter and lose rhythm n she’s grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of her as she lays back on the floor. strong hands bouncing you up and down on that strap.
loud moans fall from your lips at the sudden change of positions again, you hold onto her skinny but muscular thighs for leverage. digging your nails into them.
“shit babe—ohh nnnghm fuck! you’re never this loud”
you can even put enough thoughts together in your brain to answer her. just mindlessly fucking yourself onto ellie. n she’s just as fucked out as you are. needy hands gripping and smacking your ass as it jiggles all in front of her eyes. those eyes that roll back as the base of the strap rubs against her throbbing clit.
“ride it baby just like that… mm fuck me” ellie’s voice turning whinier by the second. she notices your bouncing slowing down and she lifts you up n practically slams you back on the couch. she’s just manhandling and throwing you around wherever she wants at this point.
spreading your legs and putting them on her shoulders; shes back inside you. thrusting even more ferociously. those sloppy wet lips of hers kissing and licking up and down your neck, jaw, everywhere she can reach. her groans and breaths getting louder and louder. even letting out a little whimper here and there.
“i love you so much” you breathlessly whisper, shaky arms wrapping around her neck to pull her closer.
ellie’s lips find yours, capturing them in a tongue filled messy kiss. your moans seeping into the kiss as she trys to burry herself deeper; if that’s even possible, if she had balls she’s actually be balls deep.
but els always finds a way. she pulls away from the kiss and forcefully lifts your hips up and off the cushions.
“i love you more, mmpf shittt take this dick” holding you up, she fucks you like her life depended on it.
“ohmygod e-llieee” you moan and push on her lower stomach to get her to pull out some inches just a bit. that’s until she hits that spot and you’re so overwhelmed with pleasure every sense of yours just shuts down and all you can feel is those bolts of pleasure running down your body and hit your clit.
back arching into her, legs shaking on her shoulder n you’re gushing and covering her strap with your cum.
ellie’s own orgasm approaching but she just can’t get there. frustrated, she throws her strap off herself and fucks her clit against yours. all during your high so instead of creaming all over her dick you cover her pussy in your slick.
“baby baby mmm i’m gnna cum—” couple more circles around your clit and her hips are jerking, face scrunching up in that cute orgasm face she always puts on, n her pretty moans and whines are spilling from her agape jaw.
with your eyes fuzzy you watch as she coats your cunt with her babies. ellie falls ontop of you; your sweaty tired bodies resting for a moment til—
“hold’up m’not done—gotta clean you up” you don’t even process what she said or what’s she’s doing until you feel her tongue against your sensitive clit.
you gasp and squirm away, but she chases after you, following wherever you move like her mouth is actually attached to your cunt.
“no no els it’s too—mm!” you shriek at the feeling of her sucking your clit in n tongue moving in circles. it rrly is all too much you can feel every little movement and groove of her tongue. you attempt to push her head away but she latches her arms around your thighs and moves her head side to side. her eyes squeezing shut at the taste of you and her combined.
you squeeze around her head n lift up off the couch again, squirming every which way to escape that mouth of hers. even pulling her hair and roughly pushing her head away isn’t getting her off.
“m’not stopping til you cum again if you really want me to stop say the safeword” she mumbles all muffled into your pussy then continue her attacks.
“i cant cum ellie! it’s too muchhh” you whine but ohh her tongue pushing in you and her lil button nose rubbing your clit has got you over the edge again so quickly.
instead of pushing her away you push her face deeper into you. tugging on her hair as spurts of squirt dribble from your pussy all over her lips and chin.
ellie moaning into your folds and finally detaching herself and wiping her face clean with the back of her hand.
“m’sorry love i couldn’t help myself” ellie mutters as she lays and nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck. pulling a blanket over you two.
“it’s okay” you whisper while catching your breath, “it just hurts now, n it’s so wet i feel dirty”
“well take a bath together babe just- can we lay here for a bit..m’so tired” ellie’s voice trailing lower.
“that’s your fault you put me in like 7 different position all in ten minutes” you say giggling and kissing her forehead.
“mmph shut up” ellie whines and stuffs her face in your neck. she’s just so cute you can help but kiss her all over her face <33
4K notes · View notes
vauxxy · 4 months
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SETTLE DOWN!
luke castellan x reader
★ “for crying out loud, settle down!”
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ABOUT - you hate his guts. he hates yours. but you’d by lying if you said you didn’t want to make out with him until his lips start bleeding. and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that idea.
WARNINGS - sexual references, sexual comments, enemies to lovers, steamy makeout scenes, no explicit smut. both luke and reader are very horny and very mean sooo two red flags lol
A/N - please don’t make fun of my english/australian vocabulary. i know americans don’t use the word ‘fit’ but LET ME LIVE IN PEACE!!!let me know if you’d fancy a part 2 <3
WC - 3.7k words
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it’s hard to recall when exactly your distaste towards luke castellan first developed.
maybe it started off as rude comments and shoved shoulders, or simply the act of tripping over each other's shoes, paired with a few nasty glances. either way, you hated his guts.
this sentiment was obviously returned by luke, who was eager to constantly egg you on and rile you up. maybe he found it amusing- watching the ever so calm and collected eldest daughter of the hypnos cabin going absolutely ballistic whenever luke did something slightly annoying. he loved the way her mature and gentle persona shattered as soon as he provoked her.
it was rather strange how quickly they let their masks slip, letting themselves shout foul obscenities at each other as soon as a conflict arose between the two of them. it was like being near each other was the primary catalyst for their arguments and squabbles- not the actual contents of the disagreement itself, but the players involved.
curiously, luke’s terrible attitude was never extended to anyone other than you. around everyone else at camp half-blood, luke was the perfect gentleman. warm and welcoming to anyone who happened to walk past him, a great swordsman, well-kept, respectful and polite, the list goes on. he was perfect. but as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire body shifted. he became something colder, something ravenous- something hungry. he was out for blood, he just didn’t understand why.
you were slumped over a picnic table near the cabins, tiredly observing all handful of half-blood kids from various cabins making friendship bracelets.
it was dark out, the moon and the embers of the nearby fire acting as the sole providers of light for the camp that night.
truthfully, you didn’t want to be there. you would rather be in bed, coddled up between your sheets for hours before heading down to the infirmary to help out the younger kids with their sleeping troubles. maybe afterwards you could go down to the theatre and join in on a few songs with the apollo kids, or even practice sparring with clarisse.
whatever it was, you didn’t want to be there. not with luke castellan’s eyes studying your every move. you didn’t need to lift your head to know he was looking at you- you could feel it. the arrogance was radiating off him and you could smell his pride from across the picnic table. your nose easily picked up on notes of wet grass, a neutral deodorant, pure spite, and vanilla candles.
after what seemed like an eternity, you eventually shot your head up to meet luke’s unwavering gaze.
“someone’s sleepy.” he smirked, his voice calm and cold. he looked satisfied; content with watching you slowly rise in anger as he began to coddle you and patronise your every move.
you ran a hand through your hair, fixing the messy state it was in after laying down for so long. “i’m not sleepy, just bored.” you retorted, letting your hands hold up your head as you stared deeply into his eyes, not breaking eye contact.
luke played along, refusing to blink as he picked up on the competitive gesture. “bored, huh?” he mused, shooting you a cocky grin as he leaned forward over the table. “you’re never satisfied, are you, princess?”
you rolled your eyes, letting your pupils meet the back of your head as you stifled a groan. you slowly covered one side of your face in your hand, hiding your pink cheeks as a result of his use of the nickname ‘princess’.
“don’t you have a loser convention to get to?” you asked, referring to the cabin councillors meeting that he was supposed to be at.
luke shrugged, looking to his side as he watched a young demeter boy making a bracelet. “got cancelled. now i get to look at your pretty little face for an hour straight.”
“i’m going to bed.” you grumbled, standing up from the picnic table, an unfinished friendship bracelet left discarded. you walked away, hearing little to no protests from the rest of the table.
luke’s eyes met the bracelet you left behind, studying it for a moment. the colours were cute and the beads were placed strategically along the string, creating an interesting and visually pleasing combination of textures and shapes. luke’s hand wandered over to the bracelet, quickly snatching it before securely tying it and stuffing it in his pocket.
luke wasn’t sure why he stole the bracelet. maybe he thought he could taunt you with it, or maybe he could just wear it for shits and gigs. it was a pretty bracelet- why wouldn’t he want to wear it?
a week passed by, and it was time for capture the flag.
luke had consistently come out of the games a champion, securing his place as the best swordsman at camp half-blood whenever possible.
you were tired of it. you promised yourself that when the opportunity arose, you would beat him to it. you would earn the praise he revived so effortlessly.
your determination to win capture the flag was also partially encouraged by the events of the previous tuesday.
you, luke, and a few other older demi-gods were forced to monitor the younger campers on a trip to the nearby lake. simple, right? wrong.
things went south fast when luke ‘accidentally’ nudged your shoulder a bit too hard, forcing you to fall into the lake. luckily, you were a strong enough swimmer and were able to get back on land safely.
“sorry about that, y/n. maybe next time you should keep out of the way?” he leaned in close, whispering in your ear.
luke smirked lightly as his dry hand rubbed the soaking wet and now transparent fabric covering your shoulder. his lips softly grazed your neck as you released yourself from his grip, shooting him a dirty look.
“you should watch your step, castellan. things like this happen to anyone.”
luke scoffed, looking you up and down as he took in the sight of your shivering body. “do they now?” he asked, his head turning to follow your figure as you walked past him.
as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but study your body as it became revealed by the fabric of the camp t-shirt sticking to your skin. how could he not admire the way he could see the vague outline of a lacy black bra underneath your top? or the way your wet hair was framing your angry little face? how you stared him down as your friend offered you a towel.
if you weren’t so acutely aware of how your figure was on full display, you would’ve pushed him in as well- but you were way too infuriated to even get close to him at this point… as well as the fact you didn’t think you could handle the idea of him taking off your shirt in front of you, all wet as his hair let water droplets roll down his torso.
maybe you could handle hitting him with a baseball bat a few times, but the idea of his face all beaten and bloodied was strangely appetising as well.
in all fairness, luke’s actions were not unprovoked. it’s not like you didn’t also tease him and fuck around with his temper.
for example, the very day before the incident at the lake, you had used your abilities as a daughter of hypnos to put him to sleep… for 19 hours, causing him to miss out on camp activities and lose hours of valuable training time.
you felt pure bliss watching him as he stepped out of the hermes cabin, confused and disoriented as hoards of campers instantly surrounded him.
“are you okay luke?”
“i heard you were in a coma!”
“we thought you were a goner,”
luke blocked out the concerned comments of his peers as soon as he caught you gazing over at him from the deck of the hypnos cabin.
with that ‘i got you good’ smirk plastered across your face, luke knew he had to get you back. getting to see your semi-exposed and cold, shuddering body in the process of doing so was only a bonus.
he felt a high from getting to see what he caused. what he did to you. it made him hungry for more. how else could he anger you? get you to show him more? how could you return the favour? would you? he didn’t know if you realised the effect you had on him- but he was going to do anything in his power for you to feel it too.
but those incidents were nothing compared to what was about to go down.
2 hours into capture the flag, and you had managed to fool and scare off enough members of the blue team, causing many individual members to go off track. those hours practising sword fighting with clarisse were definitely worth it.
you leaned against a nearby tree, closing your eyes for a moment as you fiddled with your sword. lost in thought, you heard something coming. more specifically, someone. you didn’t even have to open your eyes to know who it was.
“oh, hey castellan. isn’t it past your bedtime?” you asked, rubbing your eyes open as you lazily swung your sword back and forth.
luke scoffed, taking a step towards you. “i think i like you better when you’re drenched in lake water.” he smirked, looking into your eyes without breaking contact. he couldn’t look away. it wasn’t even because he wanted to intimidate you; he simply couldn’t stand to have you exit his field of vision. not right now, at least.
you look a step backwards, getting into position as you use your shield to protect yourself. “are you gonna try to maim me or what?”
luke took another step forward, mirroring your stance as he took the defensive. “and hurt your pretty little body? i’d rather die.”
you turned red, your mouth agape as you processed what he had said. “excuse me?” you spat, your voice breathy as your eyes widened.
“you heard me,” he smiled innocently, deceiving you before beginning to attack. you blocked every move, pacing around the area as you swung your sword at him. “you’re such a fucking prick!” you grumbled, trying to catch your breath as you struggled to mark him with your blade.
“language, princess.” he scolded, still smiling at you as he continued his attempts at disarming you.
that was the moment when you realised something.
you can play dirty.
not with your sleep-themed party tricks or your weak little fists, but with the power of unpredictability. the element of surprise.
you let him get closer to you, pretending to settle down before him. luke chuckled at the sight of your loosened grip on your shield and increasingly tired eyes, noticing the way your footsteps shuffled backwards and forwards.
“someone’s getting tired-“ his cocky sentiment was quickly cut off by the feeling of your hands tightly gripping his arm- his shock only furthering as your teeth dug into the soft skin on his wrist.
he instantly dropped his shield, his sword still held firmly in his other hand. you quickly released him from your bite, taking a step forwards as you put your weight on his shield. “ow- what the fuck?!” he stammered, looking up at you with red cheeks and a bleeding hand.
you were stumped. you hadn’t thought further than getting rid of his shield. “i didn’t mean to break skin to be honest. sorry.” you shrugged, picking up his shield and throwing it far away while he was still frozen in shock.
luke continued looking at you, silent as he became overwhelmed by the feeling of a ruthless war finally coming to an end within his mind.
obviously, he found you attractive. you were a pretty girl. sure, a lot of girls at camp half-blood were pretty. but for some odd reason, he thought you were much prettier. the type of pretty girl that deserved to be called cute nicknames every day and covered in gentle kisses every night. he wanted to kiss you softly, hold you tightly, say you looked gorgeous, make you tacky beaded bracelets that were the same colour as your eyes. he wanted to make you feel loved.
but he also thought you were a brat. always teasing him and only him. driving him insane with targeted comments and insults. purposefully making him look stupid in front of the younger campers and even patronising him for it. luke wanted to put you in your place. he wanted nothing more than to push you onto his bed in the dead of night, marking you as his. he yearned to hear your strained voice whimpering his name as he towered over you. he wanted to exchange knowing glances and pretend nothing had changed, despite the images of your hands gripping his bedsheets as you let out stifled moans etched into his mind.
luke often wondered how the two could overlap. how the fuck could these two perceptions of this one girl coexist? but luke didn’t wonder how it was possible to think about anymore, he didn’t care about that. now, he wondered if it was possible to act on both of his separate desires for her. he wondered if she even wanted him as much as he wanted her- if she wanted him at all.
“hey, i said i was sorry for making you bleed!” you called out, snapping him out of it.
“stop sulking! what, do you want me to kiss it better or something?”
luke blinked for the first time in what felt like centuries, shrugging as he let a sly smile creepy onto his face. “oh, im not sulking.” he insisted as he stepped closer towards the shorter girl.
he extended his wrist out towards you, a deep and bleeding bite mark engraved into the skin. “you gonna kiss it better, or…?”
you turned red, shaking your head. “i was just joking, castellan.” you murmured coldly, trying to avoid his gaze.
he kept his hand extended towards you, temping you to just take it and kiss it to get him to leave. “fucking loser…” you grumbled, holding his hand in yours as you gave his wrist a soft kiss.
“there, better?” you scoffed before luke’s hands began to tightly grip your wrist, spinning you gently onto your back as he pushed you to the ground, hovering over you. luckily, you still had your sword in your hand. you quickly moved it in front of you, holding the blade close to his neck.
“be careful, princess” he cooed, his sword digging into the dirt ground, standing upright in is position as the skin of your right thigh pressed against the blade. his hands gripped your shoulder and waist, keeping you bound to the floor as you began to squirm under his grip. “ugh, are you kidding me?!” you huffed, your face red from the feeling of intimacy between the two of you arising.
luke was basking in it, relishing the moment as he became almost addicted to the feeling of your skin against his. he let out a hitched breath, his eyes trailing down her frame as he finally realised just how close they were. the vulnerable yet stubborn look in her eyes set off a switch in him. you watched him curiously as he suddenly became a flustered mess, quickly scrambling off of you and standing up.
you lifted your back off the ground, using your hands to rid yourself of the dirt that had accumulated on your shirt.
“are you gonna explain whatever the fuck just happened, luke?” you asked, calling out to him from your spot on the ground.
he rolled his eyes, turning around to face you. “shit, y/n- are you fucking stupid?” he questioned, his voice reeking of irritation and frustration. you furrowed your brows, standing up as you approached him, sword and shield in hand. “oh, alright. forgive me for wondering why the dickhead who threw me into a lake a few days ago was pinning me to the ground in the middle of capture the flag for no reason?” i explained, seething as i pushed him back by the shoulders.
“what the fuck is your problem?” you asked again, letting yourself back him up against a nearby tree.
the game didn’t matter to you anymore. what mattered was getting to the bottom of why this prick was fucking around with you. sure, you liked how it felt being pushed against the ground. you liked the feeling of his blade pressing against your thigh. but you liked the boy more than his actions. you hated yourself for it, of course. this was the dude who’s been teasing you about and pushing you around for 3 summers straight- so why the fuck did you think he was the fittest guy you had ever laid your eyes on?
why did you want him to run his hands through your hair? suck on your neck till it went purple? why on earth did you spend countless nights dreaming about him holding you close as he slept next to you?
you were the eldest hypnos daughter at camp half-blood. you could’ve changed your dream easily; came up with literally any other fantasy at the drop of a hat- but you didn’t. you let it continue. because as much as you hated to admit it, you liked him. you wanted him bad. every last inch of him.
luke let your words echo through his mind for a bit. ‘what is my problem?’ he thought, his expression blank as he stared at you. “i don’t know, y/n! maybe my problem is you?” he said, his voice strained, yet still snarky and somewhat dramatic.
you rolled your eyes again, stepping forward. you kept your hands on his shoulders, pressing him further against the tree he was pinned against. “i’m your problem?!” you asked angrily, holding your sword against his neck once more.
“yes! you make me feel fucking weak.” luke confessed, gripping your wrist tightly as he pushed your hand away in order to create some space between his neck and the sword. “i can’t control myself around you.” he exclaimed, pushing his hand against yours as you retracted the blade from his neck.
“you bring out the worst in me, and i hate you for that.” you arched your brows, leaning forward. “that sounds like a you problem.” you quipped, defeatedly pushing the top of the blade of your sword into the ground as you let your newly free hand grip his chin- forcing him to look down at you.
luke’s hand wandered over to your face, his thumb softly grazing your bottom lip as you tilted his chin downwards, letting him look you in the eyes.
“don’t act like you don’t get exactly what i mean, princess.” he cooed, his voice low as his fingers traced over your lips and cheekbones, his other hand gently caressing your jawline as his fingertips wrapped around your neck.
you grumbled, standing on your toes to reach his height. “you’re a prick.” you scoffed, your eyes fluttering closed as you eagerly kissed him on the lips, his cheeks turning red as he mirrored your movements. he let his hands run through you hair, his other hand resting on your waist as he turned you around- pushing you against the tree now.
his hands ravenously scattered across your delicate frame, trying to feel every curve and dent on your face, back and waist. you pressed your body against his as his hands travelled across your form, closing any and all distance between the two.
after a few straight minutes of violently making out, you pulled away for air, staring into his eyes as your lower lip trembled in shock. you both tried to steady your breathing, lost in each other's eyes as your heartbeats returned back to normal.
“i’ll kiss you again if you turn around and let us win.” you said quickly, the offer seemingly the first thing you could think to say.
luke stayed quiet for a moment, before bursting out into hesitant laughter. “i mean, that’s a pretty good offer…” he said softly, letting his fingers trace your facial features as he studied the colour of your eyes.
“sure.” he said, a little smile on his face as you both leaned in again, the kiss a lot more passionate this time around. you held a clump of his hair in your hand, lightly pulling on on it as luke’s fingers jumped between gripping your neck and shoulders- the other hand running up and down your waist and hips.
you felt his knee hit the bark of the tree, slightly bent as it lightly pressed against the inside of your thigh. that’s when your hands began to grip the back of his shirt, your lips gliding down to the side of his neck. quiet moans escaped luke’s lips, only encouraging you to keep going. he moved his hand downwards, tracing circles into your hips as he moved his other arm hand upwards, cupping the space on the side of your breast with his thumb, lightly rubbing your ribcage.
the moment was only increasing in intensity- before luke was cut off my the sounds of someone calling his name. he quickly pulled away, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips before stepping back.
“right, time to hold up my end of the deal.” he chirped up, leaving one more needy kiss on your forehead.
“oh, by the way-“ he paused, before quickly pulling the bracelet you made the week before out of his pocket. “did you want this back, princess? or can i have it?” he asked cheerfully, his voice low as he looked over you.
“keep it.” you said hastily, your cheeks a vibrant shade of red. luke nodded, giving you one final kiss on the lips as he put the bracelet on the same wrist you had bitten earlier. he gave you a subtle wink and a smile, before jogging away- leaving you frozen in place.
you could hear him talking to his friend from a distance, noting on how he lied to effortlessly- saving your arse over a few kisses.
needless to say, the red team won capture the flag. but luke couldn’t bring himself to care about losing. how could he care about anything other than y/n and her hands and her smile and her eyes? her witty comments and remarks? the way she tilted her head up to look up at him? the way his face fits perfectly in her palm? how could he care about anything else ever again?
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spacequokka · 2 years
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i did a naughty thing.
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jamespotterismydaddy · 4 months
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Capture the Flag
luke castellan x reader
pt 2
A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood
TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke
word count: 1,699 words
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You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.
It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.
“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.
“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.
He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.
“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.
“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.
“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”
  You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.
“Who’s the idiot now?” 
He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.
What the fuck.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.
He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him. 
“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him. 
You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.
“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.” 
That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.
“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.
“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.
You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.
“Let me up.” 
“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.
“You’re delusional.”
“You’re wet.”
He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.
“S-Stop.” You stutter out.
“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.
As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.
“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.
“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.
“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.
“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.
“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”
 He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant. 
 “What you need.” Is his simple answer.
He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.
His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”
“I’ll kill you.” You promise.
“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”
He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.
“This is fucked up.” You say.
“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.
He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”
You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 
Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.
“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.
“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.
All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.
“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.” 
That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.
“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously. 
“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.
“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.
“Next time?” 
That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.
He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.
taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi
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supercutszns · 4 months
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rotten to the touch; luke castellan
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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
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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.
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kisses4kaia · 2 months
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mdni. 18+ content. another installment of this au.
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college!luke castellan doesn’t care about hickies.
of course, his frat brothers tease them relentlessly, but he does nothing to rebate the suggestions from most that they were from you. it wasn’t any secret that you and him had been fucking—casually, of course, he didn’t have time for relationships—for some time now, but it always left you a little jarred when he would be so open to the display of red bites left splayed on his neck.
“won’t they see?” you ask a bit dumbly after luke asks you to mark him through passionate kisses. rudely—your friends thought—he’d pulled you away from the dining hall with no explanation other than ‘needing you’.
“what?” he says, slightly breathless from kissing. the question had taken him aback because, had he not made it clear by now?
“won’t your friends see the… you know?” the sheepish tone in your voice elicits a deep chuckle from luke before he presses his lips against your neck, not hard enough to create hickies just yet, but not exactly gently either. “you want the truth, princess?” your eyebrows furrow a little dumbly but you nod with curiosity. “i think you love seeing ‘em on me, and you love when people know they’re from you,” he says. “and you know i don’t care if anyone sees. i know you know me better than that, don’t you, baby?” luke’s timbre is so low, so arousing and you can hardly keep the needy whimper in.
you just nod, no more doubt within you as you trail kisses down his scar, to his jaw, down to his neck and collarbone. the satisfied groans you elicit from him as you find that spot on his throat sends you in a daze almost immediately. his lips catch yours again before he flips the both of you over, settling on his knees in front of you.
luke’s mouth is everywhere, nibbing at the surface of your skin, laving his tongue over the fresh ache. his strong hands pulling your shorts and panties down in one go. “gonna mark you here,” he says, catching the plush flesh of your inner thigh between his teeth, sucking on the area and conjuring a livid stain on your skin.
he forges more and more red marks onto your skin before he finally puts his mouth on your neediest place. luke’s suctions his lips around your clit, forcing a choked gasp from you and a hand flying down onto his head. he groans against you as your back arches and your fingers tangle in his hair, tightening and tugging. he works hard, like he’s being paid to eat you out, but really, he knows he would pay to die between your thighs.
just as luke’s tongue pushes it’s way into your sopping hole, you feel that blissfully hot, white, sensation swim over and past you. your thighs are most likely suffocating luke, but he doesn’t seem to mind, or even notice really.
his tongue fucks you through your orgasm, and upon coming down from your high, luke’s head rises from your middle.
“we’re still casual, though?”
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misswoozi · 6 months
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Omg, Jongin and Jackson ; Jongin sub!
I can imagine him whining under Jackson, with his sweet deep voice… I’ve never heard about this ship before but ugh I’m starting to like it !!!
it was definitely a cross-ship born on this blog lmao in my head, it's a FWB ship that gets drunk together, maybe plays videogames/watches soccer, just a very bros-being-bros (with-lots-of-drinks) ship that messes around on Jackson's couch. Very much top!Jackson and bottom!Jongin but, to me, no real dom/sub roles. It's more casual than that. But overall it's a really good fuck buddies ship lmao compatible, casual, no one catches feelings. A++ stuff.
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coryosbaby · 4 months
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—ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴏᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ‘ᴛɪʟʟ ɪ ᴘᴀꜱꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ !
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(Luke Castellan x bimbo! Reader)
Content warning . Victory sex? Choking, size kink, dumbification, marking, Sub! Reader, Dom! Luke
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“Baby!”
Luke’s excited voice echoes throughout your empty cabin. Your curious eyes look up at him, distracted by drawing on pink lipstick with a fine tipped brush. Your lovely boyfriend wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses you flat on the mouth.
“We won,” he says, grinning. “I took the flag.”
You smile excitedly, turning around to hug him.
“That’s so amazing, Luke!” You reply. “ I’m so happy for you!”
It’s true. Your lover may be the best fighter in camp, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get giddy everytime he wins (yet another) capture the flag game.
Not to mention he’s like, insanely hot afterwards. Taking note of him, he’s sweaty and flush with the thrill of battle, and you think this is his best look: when he’s claimed something for his own.
You guide him to your bed, checking him for any major cuts or bruises. He never has any, and that doesn’t change today. You drop to your knees regardless, and nuzzle your face against his thigh. It’s one of your favorite ways to show affection towards him at times like these, when he needs to calm down and let his body rest.
However, you can’t help but clench when his hand wraps around your hair and he pushes his hips towards you. He does it unknowingly, out of instinct, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing a kiss to the crotch of his jeans.
He pauses, a smirk forming on his face.
“Need something, baby?”
You nod, a small “mhm” leaving your lips.
His eyes are teasing as his fingers grasp your chin, directing you to look at him.
“Are you going to be good?” He asks, all serious and deep, and you smile up at him, doe eyes gleaming as you excitedly play with the zipper on his jeans.
“I’ll be so good, Luke. Promise.”
“That’s my girl.”
He thumbs over your bottom lip, watching your hands much tinier than his unzip his fly. You pull out his hard, aching cock, the tip pretty and pink. You watch a pearl of arousal slide down his shaft, watch as he looks down hungrily at you. Your mouth waters.
You kiss his cockhead, letting his stringy precum glaze your lips, before sticking out your tongue and gently licking him. He lets out a heavy breath, his hand falling into your hair.
“Fuck,” he groans, sighing. “Such a good little princess for me.”
You whine, beginning to guide him into the warm heat of your mouth. His smell, all sweaty and musky, makes your brain fuzzy. It’s disgusting really, how desperate you are for him after a tournament. Letting him fuck your throat after a game is almost tradition.
And he knows it, too, teases you as you take him all the way in the back of your throat and choke on him. He presses you further down and lets your nose rest against his pubic bone. Your eyes roll back.
“Mmm,” he groans. Tears leak out of your eyes and smear your mascara as your throat contracts. “ Does my dick taste good, baby? How’s it feel having the greatest swordsman in the entire camp fuckin’ your throat, huh? Y’like that?”
You can’t reply, and he knows that. But you let out a guttural moan, making Luke growl.
“Such a stupid little thing. I asked you a question, baby, I expect you to answer it.”
Your lips slide off of him with a loud pop, your lipstick smearing on the side of your cheek as you gasp for breath.
“Love it, Luke. Love your cock so so much, just wanna suck on it forever…”
He grins, then, lets out a little chuckle between his lips as he guides you back down on his cock.
“That’s better.”
You trace your tongue filthily along the vein on him, move your hand down to palm one of his balls. You’re almost dizzy with it as you suck him, and you think you can stay like this for the rest of your life with his hands in your hair and his cock down your throat.
Luke has a primal stare as he watches your lipstick coat his cock in pretty pink stains. His hips buck up, once, twice. He’s about to cum, so he pulls you off of him.
“Gorgeous girl,” he compliments softly, wiping your mouth with his thumb. Drool drips down your chin and neck. “Want you on your clothes off and you on your back, okay? Can you do that for me?”
You nod obediently. Your wobbly legs lift up and you begin to unzip your pink jacket, then your Bebe top underneath comes off with two perfectly manicured hands. You slide your skirt off, and unclip your bra. But before you can take off your heels, Luke tsks. Ever the gentleman (to you, at least), he puts your foot on his thigh and undoes the laces on them.
“Are these new?” He asks, genuinely curious, as if he isn’t about to fuck your pretty brains out.
You nod, heart racing as he smiles up at you.
“I like them,” he drawls, gently tickling your ankle. “They’re cute.”
“Cute?” You say, giggling. “My shoes are cute?”
“Of course they are. They’re stilletos.“
You smile at the fact that he’s remembering the type of shoe because of your many rants to him about clothes. You let him remove them for you before sliding your panties down your legs and crawling onto the bed. He gives your ass a teasing slap as you crawl over him to your fluffy pink pillows.
He towers over you, slipping his shirt off and revealing his bare torso. You almost blush like a school girl, and pinch one of this biceps.
“You’re getting so strong,” you say in awe, feeling the muscle underneath your hand. Luke laughs, kissing your jaw.
“Gotta get big to protect my girl, don’t I?”
You bite your lip, his words sending a throbbing sensation straight to your already dripping core. He pushes his jeans and underwear past his meaty thighs and hastily kicks them off before giving his cock a few heavy strokes. He brushes his tip up against your folds, teasing. You whine, burying your face into his shoulder.
“I need it,” you say against his ear, sugary and sweet. “I need you.”
And how can he resist that, when you’re so pretty and pliant underneath him? He groans, pressing himself into your tight entrance, his hands going to either side of your head as he splits you open. Your thighs spread of their own accord, inviting him in even further.
“Such a tight little slut,” he moans out, watching how your pussy lips practically choke his cock. Your back arches.
“All for you,” you whisper.
“That’s right, sweet girl,” he punctuates each word in between thrusts, his pace increasing ferociously at the thought of owning you. “This little pussy? These tits? That fucking brain of yours, it’s all mine. Mine to toy with, mine to use… all of it.”
Your eyes roll back as he begins to mercilessly pound your pussy into the mattress. His big hand plays with your throat, then his fingers wrap around it and he squeezes. Your airflow is nearly cut off, and you gasp for breath as he presses harder. Your pussy gushes slick at the movement. Your lips press against the vein on his wrist, and you stick open mouthed kisses to the skin there. It isn’t long before you need to be let up; however, Luke’s grip on your neck doesn’t move. In fact, it tightens— you try to move it off, try to lift your head up to breathe, but Luke slams you back down into the pillows. Your hand grabs his much bigger one, a small, choked murmur of his name tumbling from your lips, begging, “Luke.. please”.
And that makes his hips stutter. He knows you want this, knows that this is something you’ve always liked. If he had actually hurt you, you would’ve said the safe word.
He shoots inside you with an animalistic growl, his cum coating your inner walls in thick white ropes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Your legs shake and squeeze his hips as he empties himself into you, your clit still throbbing hotly. Luke isn’t a non giving lover, and while his softening cock rests inside your cunt he reaches down and rubs slow, deliberate circles into your clit.
“Cmon,” he breathes out, watching your pussy spasm. “Cmon, baby, give it to me. Let me see you cream on my fucking cock.”
You whimper loudly, your orgasm hitting you so intensely you fear you may pass out. Your back arches up into Luke’s touch as he helps you ride out your high. When you come down, shaking and sticky with release, Luke’s fingers leave you and he wraps you into your arms. He presses a kiss to your hair, and you sigh happily when he pulls you on top of his spent body.
“Luke?” You ask him. Your fingers play with the hand shaped bruise forming on your throat.
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
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@mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry
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