#once I got a bad one (about and inch and a half long) on my stomach just by wearing leggings on a hot day lmao

[cookinguptales]

just saw a person online talking about how they have EDS and that's why they get "cigarette paper scars" and I googled and like

do you mean to tell me that everyone doesn't have these

#I feel like I'm constantly learning about my own symptoms from the internet ;; #I have those all over ;; #usually from like small things #cuts or tears or blisters #I get those from blisters fairly often I'd say #and I get the blisters just from my clothes rubbing up against me #'velvet skin' sounds so much nicer than it actually is #that shit's fragile #cw: #chronic illness #eds #I don't think my dad realized how easily my skin blisters until we were in Japan #he saw me bandaging my feet after walking a fair amount one of the days and he was kind of horrified #once I got a bad one (about and inch and a half long) on my stomach just by wearing leggings on a hot day lmao #I carry bandages with me everywhere in my purse #(but that's also partially bc I need latex-free ones and you never know)

[supercutszns]

twin beads | luke castellan

wc + pairing: 6.7k, luke x daughter of poseidon! reader

synopsis: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder. (based on this ask!)

warnings: best friends to lovers <3, percy/reader sibling dynamic, fluff and angst then fluff again, hurt/comfort, shameless making out. sorry this one is so long but besties to lovers is my lifeblood!!! i get so attached!! designated song is true blue by boygenius:)

i. you said you wanted to feel alive, so we went to the beach

“Ahoy, sailor!”

The familiar voice ricochets across the lake. You turn, leaving glimmers of sun behind you as you stare back at the docks of Camp Half-Blood. An orange blob with a curly mop of hair is beckoning you. You laugh, wave back at him, and plunge into the water. It cools your face after staying above the surface for so long—you just love watching the light reflected off the waves. But the second you’re under the water, the soreness in your muscles, the heat on your face, the exhaustion from treading for so long, are washed away from you. You swim with precision and vigor, relishing the feel of the river cupping your limbs to spur you forward. Not to sound lame, but you fucking love swimming. 

But maybe not as much as you love your best friend. 

He laughs when your head pops out of the water at the edge of the dock. “Wow, that took you longer than usual,” he teases, brown eyes glinting in the dawn. “You getting sloppy?”

You huff, splashing some water up at him but it barely touches him. “I’m tired, you moron. I’ve been out there for an hour.”

Luke leans down at the edge of the dock, offering you a hand. His face is bemused when you latch onto him, and with a good flex of his bicep he pulls you up. “All right, c’mon,” he grunts.

All your energy evaporates the second your body’s out of the water. You’re far too lazy to be graceful, so you sprawl out onto the dock like a dying fish, letting the sun kiss every inch of you. “Eww,” Luke giggles overtop you, prodding your side with the tip of his shoe. “Get up, you mermaid.” 

“Make me, you mailman.”

Your arm drapes over your eyes, and you sigh. There really is nothing better than these moments; droplets of water soaking into your skin after an early morning swim, your best friend right beside you. 

He keeps nudging you with your shoe, over and over until your ribs start to hurt. You groan, swatting him away and stretching out your limbs with a groan, letting them pop and relax, until you blearily make your way to your feet. 

“You forgot your towel again,” Luke condones, but like always, he’s brought one for you. 

He goes through a practiced routine of drying you off, wrapping the towel around your shoulders and down your arms, across your back, scrunching the water out of your hair. It doesn’t matter how cold the water gets—this part always makes you warm. 

“Thanks,” you smile as he hands the towel off to you. “Anything interesting happen this morning, O Captain, my captain?”

“Not yet, sailor, sir,” he replies in a stuffy, gruff voice the two of you have joked around with since you were kids. “Just grabbing you for breakfast.”

You giggle, following him past the docks and to the shore. Once you’ve grabbed all your stuff, you both fall in stride and head towards your cabin, your twin five-beaded necklaces hanging over your shirts. 

Five years ago, when you got to Camp for the first time, you were as big a loser as any. You were bad at everything—everything—and had no real friends until you accidentally whacked some other friendless loser in the head with an oar when you were about to go canoeing. Luke got mad at you, but his little sister Annabeth was even more furious. He offered to be your partner for the day anyway. You’ve been partners ever since. 

Over the years the two of you have grown in status at the camp, more so Luke than you. He’s an excellent cabin leader and by far the greatest swordsman in camp. You, still unclaimed, have found solace in giving younger campers swimming lessons and wading out there on your own till you get sunstroke. (It’s happened a few times. Luke is never pleased, but also refuses to let the Apollo campers take care of you. He nurses you back to health with ice cream and horrible gossip.)

But every night you return to the Hermes cabin with a hollowness in your chest. One bunk emptied, then immediately filled. You’ve had the same one for five years, and the only condolence is that it’s right next to Luke’s, and sometimes you spend hours at night making faces at each other till your laughter endangers other people’s sleep. 

Yes, you love the water at Camp Half-Blood, but you love Luke most. 

Rumours of a new kid are rustling at camp. You haven’t seen him, but you’re just dying to get in on the gossip. Apparently he slayed a minotaur. Apparently Annabeth has seen him. And apparently he’s unclaimed. You hate to admit it, but this is the most exciting news you’ve heard in weeks!

Your afternoon is spent giving some swimming lessons and taking some Demeter campers canoeing. (Some of them freak out on the water. so it’s a nice challenge to untangle the sea plants they get hooked around their boat.) It feels like you’ve been here forever. A break is in desperate demand right now. 

You have no idea what kind of God heard your prayers, but your fellow counsellor has an unimpressed look on her face when she taps you on the shoulder and goes, “Your friend’s calling you.” 

The way she says it is almost degrading. You turn to look back at the shore to see the dark curly hair you’d spot a mile away. Next to him is a much shorter orange blob, shuffling awkwardly as Luke attempts to flag you down. Score!

You shoot an apologetic look at her. “Uh … I’ll be right back.” You wince, already disposing of your baggy orange shirt (it’s Luke’s) with your bathing suit underneath. 

“No you won’t,” she says dryly. “Just go.”

You flash a smile you hope is loaded with charm, and you’re off into water. As you swim, the only thing on your mind is I really really hope that’s the new kid, and I wonder what Luke’s face looks like right now. (He’s probably grinning, eyes crinkled at the sides as he tries to follow your figure beneath the waves. Maybe he’s doing that cute thing where his head tilts to the side as he watches.) 

When you’re close enough to the shore, you come out of the water, wringing your hair. “Hey, guys!” It’s Luke, Chris, and some blonde kid you’re sure is the new one. “What’s up?”

Luke is about to say something, then he frowns. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Left it in the canoe, I’ll go back for it later,” you reply, limply gesturing behind you. 

“And where’s your towel?”  

“Okay, I did bring one this time!” You counter. “I just gave it to a little Ares kid ‘cause she forgot hers.” 

Luke clicks his tongue, shakes his head at you, but of course he’s got one in his hands so what’s the worry? He’s endearingly amused when you take the cloth and dry yourself off, and the new boy, having watched this all raptly, widens his eyes and drawls, “Ohhhh, so you’re his gi—”

“This is Camp’s resident mermaid, Percy.” Chris butts in, adding your name almost as an afterthought. 

After you fasten your towel around you, you’re put off by Percy’s scrutinizing stare. “Look, it’s been a pretty weird day so I cannot tell if you’re joking or not.” 

“I’m not a mermaid,” you snipe, throwing Chris a dirty look. “People just call me that because I give swimming lessons here.” You stick your hand out to the blonde boy. “Nice to meet you, Percy.” 

He gives a polite nod, a little awkward. “Right back at ya.” The two of you study each other as you shake. He’s young, probably about twelve, a smatter of freckles across his face. His eyes look like the lake. Something itches in the back of your brain. There’s a moment where the shake is suspended, neither of you have let go but are no longer actively holding on, and you see it in his face that he’s studying you, too. Huh.

The conversation continues as normal, but you almost start to feel queasy for a second. “We’re trying to find something Percy’s good at,” Luke says with a pat on Percy’s shoulder. “You got any ideas?”

“Yes, please, because I really would like to have a word with my father,” Percy clips. “Is Glory, like, purely a skill thing or can I get some if I tie someone else’s shoes or something?” 

“I don’t have shoes,” you add unhelpfully. 

“It’s okay, dude,” Luke squeezes Percy’s shoulder. “Camp is great, no matter where you end up.”

Even if you’re like her, he means without saying. Even if you don’t end up anywhere. 

You meet Luke’s eyes. This is a kid that wants so badly to meet his father, to ease the ache inside him. You are the absolute worst person for this. One of the longest current unclaimed streaks and your ache remains. To Percy, you’re the biggest example of a failure there is, and Luke is only just now realizing it. 

“Maybe try the infirmary?” You pipe, shuffling back and forth on the sand. “You might have a knack for medicine.”

“Doubt it,” Percy swallows. “But yeah, okay. Who’s your parent, again?”

Percy can’t see it, but Luke and Chris send you a shifty look and all you can do is widen your eyes to be like, Help! Don’t make me crush his dreams! I don’t want another kid to hate me! 

You swallow. No matter how fast you think, you cannot come to a logical sentence. “I, uh—”

Just then, in another stroke of luck (wow, that’s two more than usual) an Athena counsellor that looks insanely disgruntled is running towards you. “Stolls put spiders in our cabin again,” he heaves once at a stop. “Please get rid of them.”

“Can’t you just squash ‘em?” Percy asks. 

“Not the spiders, the twins.” 

Chris is already nodding, but Luke looks to you first. He’s anxious, disappointed. You wish you could smooth out the creases in his brow with your thumb. “Don’t worry,” you stretch out a smile. “I’ll chill with Percy. It won’t take you guys too long.”

He’s still hesitant. You’re not sure this is a good call either. But he reaches out, quickly squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “Thank you.” Your skin feels gooey when he touches it. 

His signature roguish smile returns as he looks back to Percy. The side of his face is shadowed by the sun so well it makes you jealous. “Don’t give her a hard time, eh?” He reprimands playfully. 

Percy smiles a little. “I’ll try not to.”

You are once again reminded just how easy it is to love Luke. How effortlessly he moves into your heart. It happened to you after you slapped him with an oar. It’s already happening to Percy.

You’re sure he won’t like you nearly half as much. 

After Luke and Chris leave, Percy resigns to staring out at the campers canoeing on the lake. Maybe now is a good time to admit you’re not good with kids. Luke has tried many times to make you his welcome partner, but you can’t take to the role nearly as well. You’re perpetually antsy. And sweaty. 

“So, what cabin are you a part of that lets you do this all day?” Percy asks, squinting against the sun. 

Your heart gets heavy. With a sigh, you sit yourself down, and Percy soon follows. “Hermes, actually,” you say as casually as you can. 

Percy goes pale as a sheet. “Uh, what?”

“I’m unclaimed,” you clarify. “I don’t … I don’t have a parent.”

There’s always a pitiful pause whenever a camper figures that out. This one is somehow … clunkier. “Oh,” Percy says. “Oh. Okay, that makes sense. For a second I thought—phew.” Then his eyes trail down to the thread hooked around your fingers, the five beads you run your thumb over. “How long have you been here?”

“Five long, blissful years,” you hum dryly. 

Water ripples over pebbles on the shore. Every new camper’s ambition is eroded by the truth you represent. Percy’s no different. His brows furrow and his face falls. “And you’ve never been claimed?” He asks, and you can feel the noxious mix of pity, confusion and despair laced beneath it. 

You shake your head, watching some Demeter kids splashing each other’s canoes with their oars. “Nope. But it’s not so bad. I like my cabin, you know? I like my life. Doesn’t really matter who your parents are anyway, I think. You do the same activities as everyone else, just on different teams.”

“But doesn’t it make you mad?”

“It used to,” you shrug, “But not anymore. It’s just …” You sigh, rolling a bead against your thumb. “If I’m unclaimed, I’m unclaimed. That’s the way it is. You can’t force the Gods to do anything.” 

“That’s what Luke said,” Percy remarks, almost bitterly. 

“I’m a rare case though, Percy,” you half-lie to him, nudging him a bit with your shoulder. “You’ll get claimed. It’s your first day. And until then you’re kind of free to be whatever. You don’t have to fit into anything, which is kinda nice, and you can screw around as much as you want and nobody can really get mad at you ‘cause you’re new.” A smile rises on your face. “And I heard you killed a minotaur, so you’ve already got some cool points.”

His face screws up in a grimace, and it makes you laugh. “Oh joy, cool points. Can’t live without those.”

Okay, maybe you’re not bad with kids. Maybe you’re just bad with boring kids. Because this is going decent, right? 

“What if I don’t get claimed, though?” Percy asks after a moment, a vulnerable note eclipsing him. It resonates inside your chest. You pause for a moment, heaving a loaded breath. 

“Do you fart a lot in your sleep?”

His melancholy pauses. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Uh … what? No? I think?”

“Then you can take the bunk above mine if you want. It’s empty now,” you say. “And if you’re never claimed you can come swimming with me, and we can find seashells to put under Luke’s pillow every night until he starts thinking they’ve always been there.”

Percy blinks. “Do you have any friends?”

“Yes, and I’m going to torture him until I die. Cabin eleven is oodles of fun, Percy, you’ll see!”

He looks a little horrified. “Luke said I was going to like you,” he mutters. “I … am not sure if he’s right.”

Oh, well. You’ll take it. 

ii. you can't help but become the sun

You can’t sleep, and Luke knows it. His eyes burn into the side of your face as you stare up at your bunk. You sneak him a look. He smiles ruefully. Sweeping his arm up from beneath his covers, a makeshift tent is formed next to him. He nods to you. Before you know it, you’ve abandoned your own bed, taking a single step until you skirt into the pocket of his mattress Luke has carved for you. He lets the sheets fall, cocooning you with him the way he always does. 

You’ve been sharing beds on occasion for years. One of you gets cold, has a nightmare, or wants to talk until your mind fades out, the only solution is a place next to each other. Whispers against cheeks, giggles muffled into pillows, necklaces knocking together. You used to be further apart. Now you can’t remember the last time Luke hasn’t latched onto you the second you’re within reach. It warms you a little more each time. 

When your head hits his pillow, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, lips pursed in amusement. His face is so wildly nostalgic to you—five years seems like too short a time to have known him. His eyes are pitch-dark and soft with exhaustion, but you can still pick out the trademark Hermes mirth glimmering through. You sometimes forget his scar, probably because you know he wants you to forget it. He’d kill you for thinking this, but you kind of like the way it hugs the curve of his cheek, bunches up when his dimple appears. It makes you sad. It makes you happy. It makes you love him. 

“Percy likes you,” he whispers, opening himself up so your chin brushes his shoulder. “That’s a first.”

He’s only wearing a tank top to sleep, so his warmth seeps through his skin when you tap him on the chest. “Shut up!” You hiss back, tapering into a giggle. “Has he picked up on anything yet?”

Luke bites the inside of his cheek, regretfully shaking his head. “Nope. But all that skill stuff is kinda arbitrary anyways. He’s still hung up on kleos, though, so … that’ll come in handy for Capture the Flag.”

“Ah, yes. Using a child’s misguided need for fulfilment as a weapon. A camp classic.” 

“Well someone’s gotta be useful for Capture the Flag in this cabin and it sure as hell isn’t you, mermaid,” he barbs back. 

Your jaw drops in mock offense and you squeeze a hand around his shoulder to shake him. “I will put you in a headlock right now, Luke, I’ll break your arm—”

“Be quiet!” He giggles as you attempt to wrangle yourself on top of him. “I’ll be nice to you, I’ll be nice, stop!” You get absolutely nowhere before the bed creaks and Luke shoves you back down. Your pulse rattles through your mouth as you laugh silently. “You’re the worst,” he mutters in your ear, raising the hairs on your neck.

“Well Percy likes me, so,” you turn your nose to the sky like a haughty old lady. 

“Percy’s a funnier, less annoying version of you,” he pokes your side. “That’s how I knew you’d get along, you weirdo.”

The momentary adrenaline this conversation has brought you is mellowing. “Hey, I’m very—very funny,” you mumble through a yawn. 

Luke laughs quietly. “Sure you are.”

He pulls you back to him, arm slung around the dip of your waist. When you make no protest, he seals you against his shoulder again. It’s started to feel a little different, him holding you like this. There’s an uncertainty your body faces about how to respond. His thumb runs over your spine and you decide to relax into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Your chin knocks against his collarbone and you have the urge to curl yourself against his chest, just to feel him breathe. 

“Get some sleep, sailor,” he murmurs, fingers brushing through the roots of your hair. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Your cheeks warm, and you bury yourself even further into the space against his shoulder and his pillow. Gods, there’s something wrong with you, isn’t there?

“Will do, soldier.” The campy voice you do is half hearted at best as you find yourself absorbed in the closest thing to a full home you’ll ever get. In this sleepy hollow with bedsheets and a boy, there is acceptance. 

Well, mostly. You think you dream about Luke brushing a kiss along your hairline in your last bit of consciousness. You think you wish it was real. You think you want him to do it again.   

iii. when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out

The last time your cabin lost a game of Capture the Flag, you’d still been taller than Luke. That’s how long your winning streak has felt. There’s no reason you foresee that changing today. Even when Annabeth drags Percy along with her on whatever surely precarious quest to victory she’s created. It’s unlike her, to bring a newbie along. It’s concerning. 

“He’s fine,” Luke drawls to you when your face has been tense for twenty minutes. “Annabeth’s got a plan.” He’s a little winded after clearing out some Ares kids with Chris. You aren’t much use when it comes to weapons—your friends take the lead as you wait from a distance, ready for backup. Thank the Gods they didn’t need it this time. You’re content to just watch, but whenever Luke grins after getting another kid to surrender, veins in his arms raised like rivers on a map, you get a little distracted and you’re not sure why. 

You just huff back at him, totally normal when he wipes a sheen of sweat off his jaw. “Annabeth’s gonna use him as cannon fodder,” you mutter back, and Luke hits your arm with an appalled grin. 

Annabeth did, in fact, have a plan. So you won. Obviously. 

You’re still doubtful Percy wasn’t cannon fodder, though, with how beat up he looks on the shoreline when the rest of your team flocks to the stolen flag to claim victory. He’s slumped down on the rocky shore, a few equally beaten Ares kids straggling away from him. 

“So I was right, huh?” Luke hums in your ear, pulling your eyes to him. 

He’s revelling in newfound glory, and damn it, you get confused when you look at him when he’s like this. You’re not sure when it happened but you want to tear your heart out of its chest because of how sick it makes you. Some of his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his hair suffering a serious case of helmet-head. But it’s the pride oozing off him, the infectious happiness laced through his smile, that makes you fond of him in a way you’re not sure you should be. He’s beloved for a reason—he looks almost prophetic after winning a match, and he knows it. A glaring difference between the gangly boy you met all those summers ago. If you weren’t his best friend, you’d probably be one of his many admirers, watching his teammates fawn over his talent and wishing you were beside him. 

But you are beside him. And you’re his friend. Not an admirer. So everything’s fine. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if we lost,” you retort, knocking your chestplate against his. It’s meant to be a friendly nudge, but Luke leans into it until you swear you feel his heart beating through the metal. 

He’s grown into his smile, less boyish and more wry. “You know I never lose, sailor.” 

You want to reply, but his eyes are startlingly pretty in the sunlight. That’s normal. Whatever. A heat rises in the apples of your cheeks so you scoff lightly and turn away as soon as possible. You feel Luke’s gaze following as you turn attention elsewhere. Your sternum feels fluttery.

Percy catches your attention again. Gods, he looks beat. He’s talking to Annabeth as she helps him up, and you see the gnarly scrape marring his cheek. You should probably check on him, right? 

You’re halfway to the kids when Annabeth shoves Percy backwards into the water. Like, shoves. 

“Annabeth!” You’re scowling at her the same way she scowled at you when you first hit Luke with that oar, rushing over to help Percy. 

“What is wrong with you?” Percy sputters out lying in the lake, but you’re ankles-deep in the water before you know it. He’s glaring daggers at Annabeth, but she looks relatively unimpressed. What happened during this game? 

“Thanks,” Percy mutters as you help him up. 

You say something to shrug it off but you can’t remember what, because your eyes are drawn to the scrape on his cheek. You have to blink a few times to get it, but you’re pretty sure it’s dissolving. Vanishing off his skin. “What the hell?”

Everyone on the shore is watching him now, trying to memorize his injuries before they wash away. Percy’s staring down at himself like he’s just been body-swapped. “I don’t understand.” 

You’ve never seen anything like this before. The strangest feeling fuels you—your bones feel firmer somehow, like the blood inside your body has weight to it. Like something is happening. A fear pierces your gut. 

Annabeth’s eyes have raised, and so have Percy’s. Your mouth goes dry. Right above him is the symbol of a trident, radiating so blue it washes out the sky itself. 

The claiming symbol of Poseidon. 

“Your dad’s calling,” Annabeth says, a smile itching the corners of her mouth. 

Percy looks like he’s going to pass out. You probably do too. “Told you you’d get claimed,” you manage to squeeze the words through the knot in your chest. 

You’re smiling until Percy looks at you, then looks up. His face goes white as a sheet. Or, as white as it can bathed in a pale blue glow. “Uh…” He blinks slowly, and your stomach twists. “I think she was talking to you.”

When you look up and see an identical trident looming over your head, you know something’s wrong. It’s made worse when Chiron rings out your and Percy’s name, branding you as children of Poseidon. 

Poseidon. 

You have a father. And he’s known you all this time. Your ears hollow out like a rush of water in a cavern.

Luke is the first to kneel. The rest of the camp follows. You watch as the entire camp basks in the glory of newcomer Percy Jackson, so quickly claimed by one of the most powerful Gods of Olympus. And you, who has waited five years to earn even a shred of his favour. 

This thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly the greatest insult in the world. Your best friend can’t even meet your eyes. 

iv. i remember who i am when i'm with you

You stare at Percy as he unpacks his things. Waiting to see traces of yourself in his face, traces of your father. Anything that could give you an inkling of what he looks like. Of what you look like. Of how this happened in the first place. 

It’s a futile search. Percy’s blue eyes, his freckles, the bridge of his nose, they’re all … nothing. Half of you is half of him, but there’s no indication of which parts. The cabin is cold. You’re not going to sleep well without Luke nearby. You’re not going to sleep well ever again. 

You feel nothing but strife, your throat closing in every time you take even a second to think. You don’t want Percy to see you cry. So you do what you always do. 

This has to be in the running for most overwhelming day of all time ever. Even when submerged in your favourite place on earth, you can’t get away from your dad. Your dumb stupid dad that has made the things you love and has ruined your life. 

You swim hard, and you loathe how good it feels. At least you know why now, but that doesn’t do much to ease you. When you pop up again, the sun has started to sink into the sea. And Gods, you have to give your dad credit. The landscape is so gorgeous you almost forget how long he’s ignored you. 

You wonder if this is the last time you’ll find solace in the lake. If eventually, it’ll be nothing but an extension of your father’s neglect. 

The water ripples around you. You frown, barely having noticed it when someone taps your shoulder. You turn. “Luke?” You swallow, but why are you surprised? 

He’s panting, cheeks splotched with sun as he treads water, droplets worming down his face from his soaking curls. “Been looking for you,” he puffs, “Percy’s worried. Called you from the—from the thingie but don’t think you heard me.”

You assume he means the docks, but you don’t say anything as he takes a deep, grounding breath. “You’ve been out here for hours. Hours. For a second I thought you drowned.”

“Now we know that can’t fucking happen,” you mutter a touch too bitterly, staring down at your legs warped beneath the water. 

Luke’s silent as he watches you. “…Have you been crying?”

When you don’t reply, Luke tugs on your wrist. “C’mon, sailor, let’s go.”

“Not tired,” you say, frozen by the hot tears brimming on your lashes. 

“I’m not leaving you out here. Come on.” He frowns when you yank your hand away as he tries pulling you again. “You’re gonna get heatstroke.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He reaches for you again and you try to reject it for a moment, but he’s stronger than you, and he loves you better than even the water could. The second he has you close your resolve falters. He holds you against his shoulder, knees knocking against yours as you tread. 

“It’s okay,” he croons when you involuntarily start to cry. For a Poseidon kid, you can’t seem to control your waterworks. “It’s okay, I know.”

His hand cards through your scalp and you relish in the warmth of his bare skin on your cheek. He smells like comfort. You cling to it with all you have, until your nails start to dig into his skin and your eyesight blurs. 

“Come back with me and I’ll dry you off, okay?” He kisses the top of your head, the way you dreamed it last night. “I’ll take care of it.”

You’re not sure which it he’s referring to, because it could honestly apply to anything. When you both set off for shore, you’re so distracted by your own misery that Luke’s actually able to keep up with you. He’s up on the dock before you so he can pull you out. 

The second you’re out of the water you feel like you’ve been gutted with a lead pipe. All the energy it gave you leaves, and you realize just how right Luke was about spending too much time out there. You can’t feel your legs. 

You buckle over almost instantly, but Luke holds you before you can even think of falling. “I’ve got you,” he assures, guiding you down to sit on the dock. Your eyes are too weak to even admire the sunset. Luke drapes a towel over your shoulders, rubbing it over your arms, a welcome familiarity. He takes his time, wringing your hair and drying your back as you gaze blankly ahead. There’s a tenderness to it now. Luke’s ruthless when it comes to a lot of things. When it comes to how he loves, too. But there’s nothing demanding here. He lets your tears fall in silence, undisturbed, the touch of his hands through the cloth a silent promise. 

When you’re fairly dry, he fetches something then quickly comes back. “Here.”

It’s his shirt. You only notice you’ve been shivering as he pulls it over your head, lets you fill in the sleeves, gently gathers your hair back. “Thanks,” you say. His fingertips brush your neck as he hooks them around your necklace to rest it over the shirt. You think he does it to remind you you’re still the same. You’ve had five years together. It doesn’t have to end now. 

“Why did it take him so long?” You struggle to say, eyes glossed like sea glass. “Why—why now? What did I do?”

Luke puts an arm around you. “I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly. 

You sink into his warmth like a wave meets the shore. “Five years, Luke. He ignored me for five years. And he takes Percy right—right away.” It’s hard not to choke between every word. “I just thought I’d never get claimed, and I was fine with that, and now I’m … this!”

Its hard to tell if the dampness of your cheeks are the remnants of saltwater or your tears. “I don’t want this,” you sniffle. “I waited so long … and I just don’t want it.”

Luke rubs your shoulder, lips pursed against your head. He murmurs into your hair, “I know, sailor. It’ll be okay. Promise.”

His voice is reserved. You look up at him. His jaw is resolute, his eyes red-rimmed in a way you hadn’t noticed before. “You’re upset too,” you comment quietly. 

He laughs listlessly. “Yeah, of course I am. I’m losing my favourite cabin mate.”

You sniff and try to smile. “Percy?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, and it feels like all you want. He squeezes your shoulders tight and you long desperately to be closer. “I just don’t know what I did wrong,” you whisper, pressing your cheek into him. “Why didn’t he see me until he saw Percy? Am I just … unremarkable or something?”

“No, no. Absolutely not—c’mere.” Luke loops an arm around your waist and manoeuvres you into his arms, cradled on his lap so you can bury your face in his neck. You can’t stop fucking crying, but his patience for you is infinite. “You are by far the most remarkable person I know.” He seals you against his chest, scratching your scalp the way he knows you like. “None of this is you, okay? Your dad’s an idiot. You are—you’re everything. They’re all mindless up there, they don’t know how to love you. They don’t deserve to.”

An edge seeps into his timbre that gives you pause. You feel weak, discarded. It sounds like he’s talking about a different person. But he’s right. He has to be, because he knows you better than you know yourself.

Luke keeps going. You peek at his face when he speaks. Stubborn as ever. “He doesn’t have any fucking right to you. If he wanted that he should’ve claimed you when you got here. You have a life. You … you had a home. And now just because he’s got another kid he kills two birds with one stone? He pretends like this is some Godly intervention? Like he didn’t ignore you the whole time you’ve been here because he couldn’t stand how much you didn’t need him? How much better you are? You’re my …” He struggles, brows furrowed, the sun melting in his eyes. “You’re my best friend, and we’re supposed to be together. He’s not allowed to take that from you.”

Your heart stirs. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you try to tease.

Luke heaves a sigh, his muscles rippling against your chest. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that he’s got no shirt on. And that he’s pressed against you in a way that makes you question if you should be this close. Beads of water cling to the divots in his skin, and you linger a little too long on one nestled in his collarbone. You swear you think this every time he goes swimming with you: when did he get so … hot? And every time you think it, you want to gouge your heart out with a spoon. 

“Can you blame me?” A melancholy smile plays on his face. “I liked having you all to myself.”

Tears spring to your eyes all over again. “I liked that too.”

It’s a whisper that sends you forward, Luke bringing his forehead to your own, and you want to live in the warmth that coils through you. His nose catches against yours when he laughs, but he doesn’t move. You take a moment to savour it. You think he does too.

He wipes a tear off your face as you say, “I’m still yours.”

“Yeah?” Luke hums a bit, his hand sliding up your waist in a most unfriendly manner. “How?” 

You catch the glimmer in his eyes, that plucky smile he’s had since fourteen. Something shifts.

“What are you asking me, Luke?” You can’t fight the smile. 

“What do you want me to ask you?”

“I dunno, what do you want me to want you to ask you—”

“My Gods, you’re a pain in the ass.”

He groans, throws his head back, and kisses you like you aren’t the most annoying person in the world. 

It’s so cliché, but for a brief moment your strife is well worth it. You yank him closer before he pulls away. It’s a little unsure, the two of you so used to toeing the line, but soon you’ve given in and your hands are in his hair, mouths parting, and it’s messy and wanting and everything you need. 

Luke slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, palms flattening against your sun-beaten skin. It feels so good, better because the shirt is already his, a whine scratching your throat as he moves up so his thumbs graze the skin beneath the tie in your bathing suit. 

“Oh, sailor,” he coos against your mouth. You want to retaliate but it’s lost when he squeezes your thighs, warming you in all the right places. It’s hard to understand this is even happening—it feels like you’re underwater, a blissful fuzziness growing in your head entirely at his mercy. 

He razes kisses down your still-damp neck, catching pearls of water on his tongue. You cling to his shoulders, raking your hands down his back just so you can feel more of him. Luke’s dropped down to your collarbone at this point, tugging the neck of your shirt down as his teeth graze the bone. “You’re my best friend,” he mutters over your skin. “Still mine. Always mine.”

“Mmhm,” is all you can say back, the husk in his voice making your eyes screw shut. He teases a spot so sensitive you groan and laugh at the same time. The regret is immediate, but you feel a chuckle pass his lips, too. “Luke,” you purse a smile. He dots kisses back up your neck until you start returning the favour. 

You kiss his jaw, a few spots on his neck, feeling the flex of his muscle all around you as he squeezes the fat of your hips. You finally sweep up the water in the hollow of his collarbones, and his grunt of your name makes you, frankly, delirious. 

He brings your mouth back to his, skin sticking to each other. It’s harder to kiss as fervently when you’re both giggling against each other’s tongues, running fingers along the planes of each other’s bodies trying to see which places feel new and which are known from memory. It’s a fifty-fifty split, and you love it. 

Somewhere along the way he peeled off your shirt because it was clinging in places you knew he wanted, but now you’re panting and giggling into his hair, his nose pressed into your neck, both of you melded together with salt and sun. “You really know how to cheer a girl up, mailman,” you grin. 

His lips fix to your skin. “Really? You’re still gonna call me that right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Like it better when you call me captain,” he murmurs, nose grazing along your pulse. 

You swallow, “That doesn’t work unless we’re doing the whole sailor-ship bit.”

“We’re always doing the sailor-ship bit.”

“I seriously can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

He sighs warmly at the words. “You have no idea how much I’ve been dying for you to say that. Even though I knew you would.”

You roll your eyes as he presses his forehead to yours, and you’re more glad than ever that his face is the one you love so much. It’s a pretty great face. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says tenderly. “You’re too incredible for Poseidon. You’re worth more than that.”

He still looks gorgeous blurred by your tears. You listen to the beat of his heart and the waves rolling. “More than any water anywhere?”

“More than the fucking Styx, sailor. I’ll promise you that.”

That night, Luke stays with you and Percy in your cold chapel of a cabin. You exchange stories until Percy falls asleep in his bed, curled up like a sea otter. “He’s a drooler,” Luke notes fondly, eyes flicking to yours. “Like you.”

You shove his chest playfully until he wraps his arms around you and anchors you to sleep, like every night before. This time, as you drift off, he kisses your forehead again. Once because he loves you, and twice to make sure you know it’s real. 

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#perrie’s fics #perrie's requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #pjo fic #pjo fanfic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x you #percy jackson and the olympians #charlie bushnell #pjo x reader #pjo #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff

[waitimcomingtoo]

Bruised Like Violets

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peeta are reunited after he is rescued from the Capital (No hijacking)

Masterlist

You raced down the hallway the moment you were told where Peeta was being kept. It had been 8 long, painful weeks of waiting for him to he rescued and finally, you’d gotten word that he was back safely. You pushed past guards and burst into the room he was in, heart pounding when your eyes finally landed in him.

“Peeta?” Your voice came out as barely above a whisper. Peeta had his back to you but you could see just from his neck how skinny he had gotten. He slowly turned to you with a hardened grimace on his face. Once Peeta’s eyes met yours, his entire face softened. His eyes glazed over with tears and his bloodied lip tugged into a smile.

“Hi.” He said in a small voice. You didn’t know what came over you, but you threw your arms around him and kissed him for the first time in 8 weeks. Peeta immediately melted into you and kissed you back out of instinct. When you remembered that your love was just supposed to be an act and there were no cameras around for you to be performing for, you jumped back.

“Sorry.” You said and touched your lips, which were buzzing from kissing him.

“Dont be sorry. Come here.” Peeta shook his head and pulled you back towards him by tugging on your jumpsuit. He kissed you again and you felt your eyes well up with tears as you kissed him back. You wrapped your arms around his neck again and tangled them in his unkept hair to get him as close as possible.

“I missed you so much. I thought you were dead.” You whispered against his lips as your tears fell down your face.

“It’s okay. I’m here now.” He said as he wiped them with his thumbs. That’s when you caught sight of the bruises on his wrists, as if he had been tied down repeatedly against his will. You then took in the rest of him and realize he was half his weight and covered in bruises and welts all over his body.

“Oh, Peeta. What did they do to you?” You whispered and cupped his face to see his black eye better.

“It’s not as bad as it looks. Don’t worry about it.” He lied as you continued to inspect his arms.

“Don’t worry? All I’ve been able to do since they separated us was worry about you. The only reason I agreed to be the Mockingjay was because they said they’d rescue you. You’re the only thing that’s been on my mind since the arena.”

“I didn’t know I meant that much to you.” Peeta said through a cracked smile.

“You’re joking, right?” You cracked a smile back before leaning in to kiss him again. You weren’t used to kissing when there were no cameras around, but you missed him so much that you didn’t even think about it.

“I’m so glad they got you out of there. I would’ve never forgiven Haymitch if you died. Or Finnick. Or Joanna. If I lost you…” You trailed off as your eyes welled up again. Peeta shook his head and cupped your face to get you to look at him.

“You didn’t lose me. I’m right here.” He told you. You broke into a smile and pulled him into a tight hug.

“You’re real. You’re in my arms again.” You gushed as you squeezed him as tightly as you could. Your moment was interrupted by one of the nurses taping your shoulder.

“We need to bathe him and dress his wounds.” She let you know.

“Can she stay?” Peeta asked without letting go of you.

“You probably won’t want to see this.” The nurse told you as she held up some gauze and sutures. You looked over at Peeta whose big brown eyes looked scared at the thought of being left alone again. You just got him back, so there was no way you were leaving again.

“It’s okay. I’ll stay.” You said to him. The nurse gave you a look and went behind Peeta to unbutton his hospital gown. When the gown dropped, your jaw went with it. Almost every inch of his emaciated body was black and blue. You could tell he had been whipped and beaten over a long period of time. You started to cry without even realizing it but quickly wiped your tears it look brave for him.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He assured you while the nurse started to dress his wounds.

“There’s no way that doesn’t hurt.” You whispered.

“You’re right. Hold my hand, please? So I can squeeze it.” He asked innocently. You couldn’t help but smile and took his hand to give it a big squeeze.

“Still keeping up with the lover boy act I see.” One of the nurses mentioned as the stitched something up in Peeta’s arm.

“I’ve gotten really good at it. You’d almost think it was real.” Peeta chuckled without looking at you, but it made you blush nonetheless.

“Almost.” You nodded, making Peeta look at you.

“I heard you had quite the lover girl act going yourself.” The nurse continued.

“What do you mean?” Peeta asked curiously.

“Yeah, what?” You laughed in embarrassment.

“You’re the Mockingjay. People watch you and then talk. I heard you were screaming and crying and hugging the TV every time Peeta was on. And then screaming some more at anyone who made a comment about the things Peeta was saying.”

“I was forced-“ Peeta began.

“I know. I made sure everyone knew. That wasn’t the real you that I know.” You cut him off before he could apologize. Peeta smiled fondly at you now that he knew you had been fighting for him, even when you were separated.

“It’s hard to remember the real me.” He admitted.

“I remember him. I’ll remind you.” You shrugged. Peeta smiled again, but just for a second until he was flinching from his sutures.

“It’s okay. I got you.” You squeezed his hand before kissing his knuckles. Peeta forgot about his pain momentarily and felt himself blush. You were being a lot nicer to him than anyone had been to him in a while. But even if he had been treated with nothing but kindness, any affection coming from you was enough to send a blush across his face.

“You need a haircut.” You said, pulling Peeta out of his thoughts.

“Thanks.” He chuckled and shyly ran his fingers through his hair. You felt bad for poking fun when you remembered he didn’t have any basic luxury for weeks and a haircut was probably the last thing on his mind.

“Or maybe keep it. Your curls are coming out.” You noticed and tugged on one of his blond ringlets.

“I know. I usually try to avoid that. It makes me feel like one of those white dogs they have in the Capital.”

“Hey. That sounds like someone remembers the old you.” You smiled at his remark.

“Yeah. I guess I do.” Peeta smiled in return.

“We need to bathe him now.” The nurse told you. Peeta looked around at the room full of female nurses and felt embarrassed.

“I can do it.” You said when you saw his face.

“Are you sure?” He asked you.

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.” You shrugged and thought back to bathing him in the River during the first Games.

The nurses ran Peeta a bath while you helped him limp into the bathroom. Once his bath was ready, you helped him into it and got to work cleaning him off. You started with his hair, that looked like it hadn’t been washed since well before the second Games. Peeta was quiet as you poured water over his head until the water ran clear.

“You don’t have to do this.” He said quietly as you gently cleaned his skin.

“Yes I do. You’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”

“I would.” Peeta admitted before a comfortable silence settled between you. You’d been on the brink of death together and forced to feign a romance in front of the whole world, but this moment felt far more intimate than anything you’d done so far.

“This reminds me of the cave.” Peeta said after a minute.

“You remember the cave?”

“I remember every second. You took care of me. Just like this.”

“It’s what we do.” You shrugged and kept cleaning.

“When have I ever taken care of you?” He laughed sadly and looked up at you.

“You’ve taken care of me plenty of times. I usually take care of your body. You take care of my mind.”

“I guess we make a good team that way.” Peeta smiled shyly.

“We do. And that’s why we’re never getting separated again.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I know. But I can do my best to never let you out of my sight again.”

“I’ll do the same.” Peeta promised and looked up at you again. You cupped his chin and leaned down to kiss his nose, feeling his wet eyelashes brush against you as he closed his eye s

“Good. Now let’s get you dried off and I’ll show you to the dining hall.”

After helping Peeta get dressed, you linked your arm through his and guided him towards the dining hall. All eyes were on him as you got a tray and got on like. Some people thought he was dead while others thought he was a traitor for the things Snow had forced him to say on TV. But most people saw him as a hero and gave him warm smiles as they passed.

“Everyone is looking at me.” He whispered in your ear.

“They’re probably just excited to meet you after all the stories I told about you.” You shrugged and loaded up yours and Peeta’s plate with bread and soup.

“Yeah? Like what?” He smirked and looked at you.

“Like how loud you were in the woods when I was trying to quietly make it to the Cornucopia.” You teased him. Peeta rolled his eyes at you and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep himself balanced as you walked to a table.

“Hey Peeta. Nice to see you back.” Someone you didn’t recognize smiled at Peeta and patted his shoulder as he passed.

“See? They love you here. Because they know I love you and I’m basically a celebrity around here so they have to like what I like.” You whispered to him ad you sat down together across from Annie, and Finnick.

“Did you just say you love me?” Peeta pretended to gasp. You scrunched your nose and shoved a strawberry in his mouth to shut him up. You and Peeta noticed at the same time that Annie and Finnick were fully engaged in a makeout session now that they had been reunited. You gulped while Peter blushed and you made quick eye contact with each other. You didn’t really know the nature of your relationship at this point. There were no cameras to fake it for but being without him for 8 weeks made you realize you hadn’t faked a single thing.

“Of course I love you. You’re my husband, aren’t you?” You said after a minute to ease the tension. Peeta smile and took your hand to jokingly kiss your ring finger.

“That’s right. How could I forget we’re married.” Peeta humored you and squeezed your hand. Gale cleared his throat and the two of you finally realized he had sat down. Gale was eating his soup while staring daggers at Peeta, who looked uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you gonna say hello?” You calmly asked Gale.

“Hey, Peeta.” Gale grunted.

“Hi Gale. Thanks for helping to get me out of there.” Peeta said politely.

“No problem.” Gale muttered and looked away. Peeta’s hands had been bandaged after his bath so you got some of his soup on his spoon and held it up to his lips.

“Open.” You instructed. Peeta opened his mouth to accept the soup and swallowed it while you ripped up some bread for him. You put that in his mouth as well before giving him a glass of water. Peeta happily ate his food and smile at you in appreciation.

“Seriously?” Gale laughed meanly.

“What?” You wondered.

“You two. Do you really have to feed him?”

“I don’t have to. I want to. I missed him.” You shrugged and turned away from Gale to continue feeding Peeta.

“That doesn’t mean you have to feed him. He’s not a baby.” Gale said as if Peeta wasn’t right there.

“It’s okay. I can do it.” Peeta said and took the spoon from you. His hands shook as he dipped the spoon into his soup and it got worse as he tried to bring it to his mouth. By the time the spoon reached his lips, there was nothing left on it. You shot Gale an angry look for making Peeta feel like he had something to prove before taking the spoon again.

“I’ll do it. You fed me once.” You said and gave Peeta another bite.

“But this isn’t the first time you’ve fed me. I owe you one now.” Peeta said with a smile.

“Don’t worry about me. I have no problems stuffing my face.”

“It’s true. I’ve seen it.” Gale chimed in to remind Peeta that while he had been gone, Gale had been right there with you.

“It’s not very attractive.” You told Peeta.

“I’m sure anything you do is attractive.” Peeta replied, making you smile.

“Y/n, you left your shirt in my room last night.” Gale said, making everyone at the table look at him. Peeta frowned sadly and looked at you, expecting you to admit that you and Gale had been seeing in each other in a new way in Peeta’s absence.

“Oh. Thanks. I can grab it later.” You told Gale. Gale looked at Peeta and smirked, confirming Peeta’s worst fears.

“You were in his room last night?” Peeta asked quietly and looked at you.

“Gales been on the frontlines a lot and he’s been showing me some things he learned in training. One of them was how to make a tourniquet out of a shirt. I wanted to learn because if I had made yours properly during the first Games, you would’ve have lost your leg.” You said with a guilty look in your eyes.

“Hey, that tourniquet saved my life. I would’ve lost a lot more than my leg if you hadn’t made it. Don’t blame yourself.” Peeta said as he put his hand on top of yours. Gale looked between the two of you with jealousy brewing before speaking up again.

“I think I’m gonna skip training today. I’m still tired from how late we were up last night.” Gale added. You caught on to what Gale as trying it do and turned to a very jealous looking Peeta.

“We were up late discussing the menu for Haymitchs birthday dinner. It’s coming up soon and we wanted to hunt to have something special for him.” You explained.

“That’s nice. Maybe I can bake something for him.” Peeta offered.

“We have enough food planned.” Gale said, making Peeta’s smile fall.

“We can never have enough food.” You insisted. “I’m sure Haymitch would love it.”

“Do you think they’d let me in the kitchen?” Peeta chuckled and nodded towards the kitchen.

“If I ask them to, they would. I don’t mean to brag, but I get anything I ask for around here. It’s the perks of being the face of their revolution.”

“What have you asked for so far?” Peeta wondered.

“Just you. And now I have it so I need to think of some other things to ask for. Like getting you some baking time.” You smiled sweetly at him and touched his shoulder. You wanted Peeta to have some time to bake to remind himself of who he was. Peeta put his hand over yours and smiled in appreciation.

“You know there’s no cameras around here, right?” Gale said, taking your attention away from each other.

“We know.” You laughed in annoyance.

“So what’s with the act?” Gale asked, making Peeta gulp. He looked at you curiously, also wondering if your kindness towards him was part of the act.

“There is no act. You haven’t been through what we’ve been through. We missed each other. Let us reunite in peace.” You said simply as you kept your hand on Peeta. Peeta smiled in content and rested his head on your shoulder.

“So are you guys dating now? For real?” Finnick came up for air long enough to ask. You felt Peeta tense up on your shoulder and lifted his head to look at you. He was wondering the exact same thing, but didn’t know how to voice it. Things had been different between you before you were separated and the way you were acting Joe only made Peeta further believe that your feelings had shifted into something real.

“Can everyone leave us alone? What’s with all the questions?” You laughed awkwardly and took a bite of your bread. Finnick chuckled and held up his hands in defense while Gale gave Peeta the death glare. Peeta gave Gale a simple shrug before putting his head back down on your shoulder. You heard him yawn and looked down at him.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.” He nodded with his eyes shut.

“Me too. Let’s get some sleep.”

You said goodbye to Finnick and Annie before taking Peeta’s arm to lead him out of the dinning hall. You brought him to the hallway where the bedrooms were and led him to the room you’d been staying it.

“My roommate is Prim but she has the night shift in the medical wing tonight.” You told him. You turned around and saw Peeta by your door, looking longingly at your bed. It had probably been a long time since he had somewhere soft to rest his head and a bed had never looked so inviting.

“They said they set up a room for me-“

You cut him off by rushing into his arms and holding him tight. Peeta stumbled back a little before hugging you back and resting his cheek against your head.

“Stay.” You whispered against his chest.

“Always.” Peeta said automatically. You hugged him for a few moments longer before climbing into bed. Peeta climbed in after you and lifted his arm so thta you could lay your head over his heart. Peeta wrapped an arm around you and you held his hand to he as close as possible.

“Can you believe how Gale was acting back there? He’s so different now. I feel like I don’t know him anymore.” You said to fill the silence that had settled.

“I think he’s mad that I was with you in the Games and he wasn’t.” Peeta replied.

“I don’t understand him. Why would anyone wish what we went though for themselves?”

“I don’t think he’s thinking about it like that. I think he’s just embarrassed that some other guy was kissing you on TV for everyone to see. And then winning the Games with you. And going on a victory tour with you. Twice. I mean, the whole entire world was rooting for us to be in love. He had to watch our fake engagement, wedding and pregnancy. I can’t imagine how that felt for him.”

“Why would he care? It’s not like I was his girlfriend.” You reminded Peeta.

“But he had feelings for you. Anyone can see it. That’s why he hates me.” Peeta said with a soft chuckle. You frowned in the darkness and tilted your chin to look up at Peeta.

“He has to get over that, then.” You shrugged. “It’s not my or your problem that he had feelings for me. He doesn’t get to be mean to you just because he wants my relationship with him to be like my relationship with you.”

Peeta was quiet for a while after that. The only sound in the room was coming from the sounds of your breathing.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked as you looked up at him again.

“Nothing.” He chuckled.

“Tell me.” You urged and shook him a little. Peeta let out another soft chuckle and looked down at you.

“If it were me, I would hate whatever guy was on TV kissing you too.” He admitted. A smile tugged at your lips as you propped yourself up on your elbow.

“We’re not on TV now, are we?” You asked him. Peeta sat up as well so that you were at the same level.

“I don’t think so.” He smiled shyly as he shook his head. Peeta looked into your eyes with his big brown ones before letting his gaze drop to your lips.

“And yet, you’re the only boy I want to kiss.” You said quietly. Peeta jutted his head back a little in surprise before leaning towards you. His eyes slowly shut and yours did the same as you met in a soft kiss. The kiss slowly became heated and you were soon in his lap with his hands up your shirt.

“We can take it slow. I know you’ve been through a lot.” You whispered against his lips.

“I don’t need slow. I just need you.” Peeta shook his head before kissing you again.

“I want to be with you. For real this time. Not pretend.” You said between kisses.

“Real?” Peeta smiled hopefully as he looked into your eyes. You nodded your head and replied before pulling him into a kiss again.

“Real.”

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark angst #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark fanfiction #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x you #Peeta mellark whump

[sserpente]

A/N: This is short and silly and I enjoyed every second of writing it.

Words: 685 Warnings: none

You sighed as you let your head fall back to admire the stars. Thousands of piercing little lights dotting the night sky. It was rather beautiful, and for the first time ever since you had gotten into this mess (and a tadpole had gotten into you), you felt… content.

Perhaps it was because despite all this—you let your gaze wander over the campsite—fate decided to give something back. Someone. Your eyes found Astarion, brooding over one of the books you had recently picked up. Gods, you longed to take a bite right out of him the way he stood there in those tight and dark trousers and his white cotton shirt. It was quite incredible this handsome man… vampire spawn… liked you back. Not only that but you had mutated into his… lifeline, so to speak. Absentmindedly, you brought your hand to your neck, fingertips ghosting over the two puncture wounds his fangs had left behind last night. It had become a pleasurable and enjoyable ritual for you both now.

You’d have dinner with the others and at night, once everyone else was asleep, Astarion would get his fill and have supper for himself.

Another sigh. Dinner had been quite amazing and filling today. Gale had volunteered to cook after you found a crate full of abandoned supplies. Potato chips, carrot soup, garlic bread, and even lasagne… a chef would have slapped his palm against his forehead at the combination of all of these things for one evening but alas… you hadn’t eaten this much in over a week.

You were practically drunk on a full belly and that was before having a glass of wine already. Speaking of which… grabbing your empty glass, you got up from your bedroll, sauntering over to Astarion’s tent.

His head lifted as soon as he sensed you—and you actually liked to think that he could smell you, your blood, before he could hear or see you. A slight smile played on his lips when your eyes locked and he shut the book in his hands, putting it aside.

“Have a glass with me?” you offered, tilting your head as you waved the chalice in the air.

“Oh? Are we celebrating something, darling?”

“No… I’m just in a really good mood today.”

Astarion smirked in response and reached for the bottle of elven wine on the small table next to his tent.

“Well, given the current state of things, I’ll drink to that,” he purred, filling both your glasses. You clinked them, each taking a big sip before the vampire spawn took yours from you and set them both aside along with the bottle.

“Now would you say… you’re also in the mood for a bit of fun tonight?”

You grinned when he pulled you close, his face only inches from yours. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You closed your eyes, allowing him to lean forward and capture your lips in a hungry kiss.

“Ow! Gods, damn it!”

All of a sudden, as if stung by an adder, Astarion released you, half-blowing raspberries and cursing as he coughed as if you had poisoned him.

“What… are you alright? What happened? Oh… oh gods!” Realisation hit you only a second after.

“Oh no… Gale made garlic bread tonight! I completely forgot you can’t… oh, Astarion, I am so sorry. Let me have a look, is it bad?”

“I’m fine! It’s not going to kill me, it just… burns. Gods!” A few more curses followed as he brought his fingertips to his lips, assessing the damage done.

“I’ll go rinse my mouth, alright? I’ll be right back.”

The sound of acknowledgment he made was hardly an answer. It was enough for you to turn back around though, your cheeks hurting from how hard you were holding back a grin.

“It could be worse… I mean… I could have put my lips elsewhere.”

“Very funny, darling.” Still, there was a hint of amusement swinging in his voice and you certainly couldn’t help the little chuckle forcing its way out of your throat. He had to admit… it was hilarious.

A/N: I'm on my second playthrough as Durge right now and I realised one thing about myself: As much as I love villains and misunderstood bad guys, I'm really bad at being evil. 😂 I feel soo bad every time I make a mean decision, hahaha!

#astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin imagine #astarion ancunin x you #astarion ancunin x reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 imagine #bg3 #bg3 imagine #neil newbon

[miguelsslvt]

miguel o’hara x fem! reader shower sex

word count: 796

TW: smut, nsfw, fingering, miguel is a little cutie

A/N: happy kinktober my loves, enjoy the smut, welcome to the club;)

Miguel had been quite busy recently. And when I say quite, I mean very. You two used to have sex at least once every day, but now you’re lucky if you guys can even see each other during the week. You understood it was his duty to protect the multiverse and keep it in order, but damn you’re starting to think Lyla might be more important then you.

Thats why, on one night, Miguel finally got back after being out for 4 days. You two had barely even spoken. He looked tired, as you walked up to him, hugging him softly. ‘God you look shattered.’ You said, pointing at his eyeballs. ‘Didn’t you sleep in the spare room at HQ?’ You asked, he nodded. ‘Yeah, but you know what the beds like.’ He reminded, as you nodded. ‘yeah.. pretty bad. Cmon, lets get you cleaned up. You smell like crap’ you teased, as he chuckled softly, holding your hips as you both went into the bathroom.

this had been the first time in exactly 2 weeks and 5 days you had seen Miguel naked. And god, it was like a bottle of fresh water. His tan kissed skin, his abs and muscles flexing in just the right way, his v-line looking delicious as always. it was like he was sculpted by a god. You both got into the shower, the hot water going on both of your heads, as Miguel pulled you right on top of the shower head, as you gasped and giggled in surprise. He laughed softly, kissing you passionately.

You kissed back of course, missing this sweet side of him. Its quite uncommon to see Miguel be human for once.

Things got heated pretty quickly. He had picked you up by your thighs, pinning you onto the shower wall. your hands gripped around his thick neck, as your tongues danced together. He let go soon enough, panting. ‘We haven’t.. in so long..’ He said between pants, you nodded. ‘If you don’t want to-‘ ‘I’ve been craving you for weeks, love.’ He whispered, the water still hot on Miguels back.

He kissed you again passionately, placing a finger inside you. ‘Missed this sweet pussy..’ He growled, lacing another finger inside as you gasped in pleasure. Sure you’ve fingered yourself this week thinking about Miguel, but nothing can compare to his long, huge fingers.

‘god.. mig..’ You moaned breathlessly, as he just shut you up by kissing you once again. ‘..you ready, mi amor?’ He cooed, taking out his fingers and putting his tip just on your hole. You nodded desperately. ‘please.. you don’t understand how much I’ve needed this..’ You confess, as he plunged all 8 and a half inches inside you. You moaned out loudly, gasping as you felt the same usual heat as you always do when miguel is filling you up.

‘You okay..?’ He asked, groaning. You nodded, leaning your head on the cold shower wall. ‘y..you can move..’ You said, as he nodded.

He started thrusting into your slowly, as his pace soon sped up. You moaned in ecstasy, eyes glued onto Miguel. he was a panting mess, his hands grabbing anything of you as he could. Your waist, your thighs, your tits, your neck, your hands, everything.

‘fuck.. you feel so good, sweetheart.. could stay stuck with you like this forever..’ He whispered in your er, as your lower stomach felt hot as he thrusted deeper. harder. Your mind was foggy and clouded in lust, all you could think about was Miguel and how good he ws making you feel. ‘M..Miguel.. gd feels so good..’ You whispered, whining a little. He chuckled slowly, lifting you chin to look up at him. ‘Its okay, keep your eyes on me. i’ll always be here, okay?’ He said, kissing you sloppily. ‘Always gonna be here to fuck my girl the way she deserves.’ He said between the kiss, as you moaned softly, hands trailing up and down his abs, feeling the same familiar hot coil down your stomach.

‘g..gonna.. Miguel..’ You whined, as he nodded. ‘I know. I know..’ He whispered, as he got faster and harder with the thrusts, so hard you swore you started seeing stars. You let out a loud moan of Miguel’s name, as your eyes rolled back, cumming on his cock.

miguel kept going, biting his lower lip, grunting as he groaned loudly beside you ear, mumbling something in Spanish as he came deep inside you.

You both panted together, the sound of the shower still there. You could worry about the water bill later.

You looked up at Miguel, as he kissed you passionately.

‘We’re not done yet, my love.’ He said, his voice husky and deep. god, you knew you were in for it now.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #miguel smut #miguel spiderverse #fem reader #smut #shower scene #shower miguel #i need him so badly oh my god #miguel ohara smut

[imaginesmai]

I love you - Azriel

Maybe I got carried away, maybe this is not my best work. But I needed to write this and here it is! Let me know if you like it, and if you have any idea for requests!

Plot: after the worst possible outcome after one of your missions, Azriel comes back to you, trying to fix what was broken.

Azriel hesitated to even go home for the night. Part of him wondered if it would be a better idea to sleep it off at Mor’s, maybe crash with Cassian and Nesta. Even risk getting an infection and go to the soldiers’ barricade to wait until sunrise.

Then, he would be sure that you’re off to work again. He was beaten, bruised and bloody, and through normally the blood wasn’t mostly his, that time it was coming from gashes everywhere around his torso.

He looked once more at the faint light in your shared room, at your form reading in the divan with your feet tucked under your legs. The sight was enough to ease the pain of the week, to make up his mind about finally going home.

After a week in the Illyrian camps, he thought he deserved it.

“Damn it”

As soon as he put a foot inside your apartment, he heard you curse, throw the book to the ground and rush to the entrance. Azriel didn’t have time to do anything but close the door behind him before you appeared.

In your nightgown, with no socks on and messy hair, you looked like a heavenly sight. Azriel gave you a small smile, the first he had muttered in a week. But not as full or confident as the ones he gave you a months ago.

“Az” you whined. “Please, tell me that’s not your blood”

“Sorry. Would have crashed at the Wind House, but –“

“Damn it, Az!”

You weren’t angry at him, he knew. Anger was your way of showing concern, frustration, and the rest of pent-up emotions you had felt during the last two months. Usually, when he came home battered and hurt, you were besides him, leaning against his side and sharing stories about the battle. Usually, you would return to a cold house and warm it together, after long missions together.

But that was not your reality anymore.

Azriel watched you walk from the bedroom’s door to him, still not steady on your feet. It made him want to go back to the camp kill them all again slower, crueler. He waited until you were besides him. It only took him a few days to understand you needed your space, that you needed to learn how to move once more.

How to live without the extra weight of your wings behind you, now only horrible, scarred skin on your back.

“How bad is it?” you asked your hands on his shoulders. Maybe it was for his comfort, or for your support. You just started undoing the straps on his shoulders, that held together the protection vest.

“They got a few good hits, but I’m fine. Just need a bath to clean them before they heal” he whispered, his voice rough. “Wanna join me?”

 “Where are they?”

You ignored his invitation, just as you had ignored the last twenty times he had proposed anything to do with you naked. As you unfastened his vest, belt and jacket, Azriel stared at you.

It felt weirdly nice to see you so focused and worried, trying to find the hidden wounds on his body. Even though he felt the pain and soreness in every inch of his body, it was a nice change from your usual demeanor.

Azriel looked away from you to the fire that was still burning, to the half-eaten dinner on the table. It was his home, had been for the last century. And still, he felt himself looking at it through stranger’s eyes.

“This one is pretty deep” you muttered, brushing your fingers against a gash on his collarbone that finished close to his armpit. “And it’s caked in mud”

“They didn’t sweep the floor before I arrived, can you believe it?”

Without your brain’s permission, you snorted a laugh. Azriel’s body went tense under your arms, and for a moment, you feared having hurt him. Only, when you looked at him, there was only surprise and shock on his tired eyes.

You pressed your lips together, almost regretting the sudden outburst. It had been strange for you too, as if there was someone else laughing from inside your body. Someone that you had been before, but now was lost.

“I guess you need a bath”

Going back to your previous task, Azriel couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The pain and tiredness had evaporated, and now he could only repeat in his head that snort. It hadn’t been feminine, hadn’t been lovely. Still, if you were really a heavenly sight, then that was the sound of heaven’s bells.

He fell into a trance and only woke up when you patted his naked chest. You had left his underwear on, but the rest of his clothes were on the ground, now stained with blood and dirt. After a century of being a mated couple, you were more than comfortable around each other’s bodies.

You should have been around yours, but Azriel had yet to see the scars on your back.

The week of the events were blurry on his mind, foggy in a haze of panic, terror and rage. Azriel remembered feeling a shattering pain through the bond while you were visiting Illyrian camps, then Rhys winnowing him and Cassian through multiple locations until they found you. Almost five hours later, when nothing could be done.

The picture of you lying in a pool of blood, naked from the waist up and tied to a pole was printed into his memory. Azriel remembered himself crying, sobbing, screaming and begging as they took you back to the house, your attackers nowhere in sight. Remembered Madja with tears in her eyes telling them that it hadn’t been a normal clipping, that it would take you long to recover.

He could only remember the open wounds on your back, muscle and bone sticking out, only your Fae inheritance keeping you alive. Azriel had yet to see how it looked now.

“You should take that bath now, before they start healing” you said, taking a step away from him. “See if we should call Madja”

“There’s no need. I’ll be fine in the morning”

The fire crackling was the only sound in the apartment as you two stared at each other. He had been the one gone for a week, yet the bags under your eyes rivaled his. Azriel was lost without you, and navigated blind the new situation you had been forced to adapt to.

In the past was now the anger, the rage and protectiveness. He had tried to find your attackers everywhere, but they had vanished. He had found their friends, people who had witnessed the carnage and cheered on them. They all lay dead, forgotten, in the mountains, where their bodies and souls would find no rest.

And while he was sure he would find those responsible of the attack and make them pay, now you two had to adapt.

During the past month, you had often refused his presence more than what it was necessary. He kind of expected for you to go back to bed, and find you in the farthest side of it when he came back.

However, you didn’t move.

“They should have swept the floors” you started. “You’ve got dirt all over your hair”

“You already know us Illyrian males are brutes” Azriel smiled again, this time wider. He extended his arms slowly, not fully believing you were there and not about to bolt away. “Come with me to the bath”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea”

“Darling, please.”

Silver lines appeared under your eyes, and your breath started to speed up. In the last months, Azriel had watched you cry and scream, sob in his shoulder until you had fallen asleep, and his own tears had mixed with your own.

“Let’s have a bath together. I’ll let you scorch me with hot water and I won’t complain about the shampoo. And then I’ll cook something and eat together.”

“Az…”

“Please, Y/N”

Before it happened, before you were so brutalized by them, you used to bath together. A tube big enough to fit both of your wings, where you could lay against his back and kiss him until you were all wrinkled.

More than anything else, Azriel missed that. Part of it was his fault for spending so much time outside your house, haunting down the animals that hurt you. He wouldn’t rest until they met their death by his hand, and if the information he had gathered during the week was correct, it would happen sooner than later.

Ready for your rejection, he wasn’t expecting the small nod nor the silent steps you took until your head was resting on the crook of his shoulder. It wasn’t the first time you had hug, yet it was the first time you had hugged him. Azriel didn’t hesitate for long, and wrapped his bandaged arms around your middle, bringing you closer to him.

Without your wings, you were easier to hug than before. There would be no more wings’ brushing or tangling, but he held you as tight as he used to.

“I love you” you whispered, sucking a breath to keep you from breaking down once more. “I love you”

“I love you too, more than anything” he answered back.

The blood and grime were staining your nightgown, but you didn’t complain as he quietly picked you up and led you to the bathroom.

Between the wings and the grief, you had lost much weight. It made it easier to climb up his torso and nestle on his chest, your legs wrapped around his waist. Although any other time it would lead to other type of activities, Azriel only held you tight and got the water running.

Through the nightgown, where he was holding your waist, he could feel the end of your scars. Where your wings had ended, where they had ripped them. Azriel felt the rough edges of the scar, still swollen and probably sore, so he tried to be gentle.

The male ignored his own pains and aches as he prepared the bath like he used to. Even if he had shared more tears lately than during his whole life, he couldn’t help the knot on his throat as he held you close with one arm.

Your warmth, your smell, felt familiar. Like home. The bond had been nothing but pain and sorrow, but as he carried you around the bathroom, he soaked in the comfort you emanated through it.

“It’s ready” he said eventually, when the tub was full. Slowly, he let you touch the ground, though his hand found your cheek. “Do you want me to turn around?”

“No” you didn’t break eye contact. “It’s okay”

His left hand managed to touch any part of your skin while you took the nightgown off, letting it fall to the ground. Azriel kept his hand steady, but his eyes traveled quickly across every inch of your skin. From your shoulders to your ribs, from the scars he already knew to the new ones in your knees and wrists.

You turned around to get in the bathtub, and Azriel felt his power roaring inside him, screaming at him to let go. Destroy something, anything. Destroy the world for being such a cruel place and letting it happen to you, destroy everyone until you were the only one standing, safe and sound.

It took him all his willpower to stay still as he watched where your wings were. The place he had teased so often, with the pads of his fingers as you squirmed under him. Now, there were two long, wide and irregular scars. The new skin had tried to regenerate the space between the wounds, and it was all pink and wrong.

Azriel would never say it out loud, but the scared boy inside him begged for running away. For ignoring the problems, the pain, and pretend for a little longer it was all just like before.

But he forces himself to watch them, to watch you as you winced when the hot water covered the scars. As soon as you were inside, he dropped his underwear and got besides you.

“Why are you standing so far away?” he opened his arms for you to get closer, but you only stared at him. “Y/N. Come here”

“They’re really ugly, Az” you almost cut him off. It was the first time you ever talked about the scars. “And – I try not to, notice them. But they’re rough and maybe it feels wrong against your chest”

“They won’t feel wrong”

“Maybe they do. Maybe you can’t stand the feeling and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable”

“Without you here, I am uncomfortable”

Azriel didn’t let you argue further, taking your arm and dragging you where you belonged – between his open legs, your back against his chest, his head on your neck. The skin there was soft and warm, nothing like the feeling of your back against his chest. Your scarred, rough back, that had him swallow a breath.

His arms circle your body close to him, lips on your shoulder. Your wings had been much smaller than his, so in the past you had used that position many times. He already missed the accidental bumps against your wings when you moved them, the additional warmth.

“I love you” he repeated for what it felt like the thousand time.

“And I – “

“No, let me finish. I love you, darling. With or without wings, and what those monsters did doesn’t change the fact that this, right here, is my home. With you. Always” his arm, that was wrapped around your middle, brought you closer to him. “I love your toes, and how you scrunch them when you excited. And your knees and legs, when you wrap them around me and I feel”

Being so close to you made him feel complete again. As if he had lost a part of himself with your wings and had finally found it again. There were no sounds beside your breathing, no lights but the moon and the candles. Nothing else but you in his arms.

Testing the waters, he pressed his lips higher, where you neck and shoulder met. They were chapped, rough, but you leaned back and let him free access. If you let him, he knew, he would kiss every inch of your body before the sun came up.

“I love your thighs so much, and your hips. If I could, I would physically attach my arm around them and never let you go” he continued. “I love your belly so, so much. How sensitive it is and how ticklish”

You scoffed and shifted when Azriel ran his fingers through your lower belly, but didn’t move away. If anything, you ended up closer to him. He closed his eyes, breathed your scent, and left another kiss higher in your neck.

“And I could spend hours talking about how much I love your breasts. But behind them, I love your heart more than anything, Y/N. How compassionate, and brave, and caring you are. Y/N, nothing, and I mean nothing, will make me love you less”

“I feel so, so embarrassed” you confessed suddenly. One of your hands was holding his, and you squeezed. “I had gotten so far with them. They… I survived adolescence, I thought I was safe. And I was trained! I was supposed to –“

“You were supposed to nothing. What happened wasn’t your fault more than mine for not being there sooner” Azriel cut you off.

It was silent for a moment, where Azriel didn’t move from your neck. Once he felt like he wouldn’t snap the world in two if he moved, he turned your head with his free hand so he could look at you.

Once more, there were tears on your eyes. Tired, frustrated tears. But also so much love and trust in him that made him dizzy.

“What happened, doesn’t change your value as a warrior, as a person. As my mate” he looked between your lips and eyes, willing to repeat it as many times as you wanted. “It doesn’t change how much I love you, darling. How much I’m ready to give up for you only to make you see yourself the way I do”

Azriel held his breath for a second, waiting for you to say something. Either to keep the conversation, to step out of the tub or to turn your head away. It was the longest talk you two had had until now.

What he didn’t expect was for you to move forward until your lips met his. They were just as he remembered – as watching Starfall or witnessing a wish come true. They fit perfectly with his own, noses brushing each other while he trapped your upper lip between his own.

The first tear rolled down his cheek before he could control it, and he moved you two around so you were more comfortable. Your scent changed, gone the bitter taste of fear and replaced by sweetness of your love that he had grown used to.

“I love you” you repeated against hips lips, not moving away. “I love you”

“More than anything, darling” he answered back before linking your lips together one more time.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

#azriel #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #acotar #acotar imagine #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #acotar fic #acotar angst #imaginemai #imagine mai #imagines mai #imaginesmai #x reader #fic #fanfic #one shot #imagine #angst

[morlao]

Traitor

▪︎Luke Castellan x fem!reader

▪︎daughter of Ares

(the story takes place during the last PJ book -> you, Annabeth, Percy and Grover have just entered Olympus and are about to meet Luke/Kronos)

Warnings:

• mentions of blood

• no happy ending

☆ ☆ ☆

You freeze as you spot him.

Those striking eyes, once loving and gentle, now cold and distant. The single strands of hair, that fall into his face. God, you loved playing with his hair while lying in his lap. Or running your hands through his hair while kissing him.

“Luke” It has been a while since you last said his name. You try to avoid it as good as possible, as it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue since the day he turned out to be a traitor. Damn, that day was still as present as ever…

Percy lying in bed in the infirmary and telling you all about Luke´s betrayal… you standing next to his bed, not believing a single word he said… not until you noticed that Luke had disappeared.

In that moment your heart broke so violently, that you still wonder how it was possible that nobody heard it. Your perfect world broke apart within seconds.

Luke was your first everything. The first person you met at camp. The first person you trusted. The first (and only) person who you have ever been in love with. Your first kiss. Your first boyfriend. Your first time. And the first person who broke your heart.

Of course the whole camp was also very suspicious of you. You were Luke´s girlfriend – everyone knew that. The two of you were as close as one could be, so if he was a traitor, you had to be one as well, right?  They branded you the spy and avoided talking to you for months. How was that fair?

If it hadn´t been for Percy, Annabeth and Silena – who constantly comforted you, kept acting normal around you and scolded other campers who terrorized you – you would have run away a long time ago. Camp Half-Blood no longer felt like home.

Luke, your boyfriend. Luke, the traitor. It was damn hard to believe that they were the same person.

Of course you also blamed yourself. You were his girlfriend, you should have paid more attention! You knew that something was going on with him. 

You felt that he acted slightly different, even though he tried not to show it to you. He has never spoken about the gods with respect or fascination, but it was the first time that he sounded this bitter.

“They don´t care about us, Y/N” he told you while you were sitting at the shores of the lake.

“Who?” you asked, your feet dangling just inches above the cool water.

“The gods… they are cruel and selfish…they always let teens fight their battles”

In that moment you thought that he referred to the scar he got on his quest. In retrospect, he probably meant much more. Did he think of betraying the camp back then?

From that day on, you lost him more each and every day. He still spent most of his time with you, he still kissed you and made you laugh but then he also seemed so distracted, so distant.

"Dont worry, princess. I just had a bad dream", he told you every time you noted that he looked stressed.

You took his hand, softly stroking his palm with your fingers. "You know you can talk to me about it"

He just smiled, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. "I know, my love"

Before, he has never avoided these topics. You remember feeling like you couldn't get to him anymore. And then – suddenly he was gone. Disappeared without a word.

The first time you saw him again was roughly three months later. He was lying in wait for you when you were just leaving the camp to visit your mother. He jumped out of the shadows and grabbed your arm, nearly giving you a heart attack.

At first you were afraid. Afraid of the boy you had loved with all your heart – and probably still did.

But he didn´t come to hurt you, instead he tried to convince you to run away with him, to join Kronos with him. He tried more than once – to be honest you lost count of how many times he tried – but every time you rejected him.

The gods aren´t perfect, but fighting against them is not the right way to go. Doing so would cause the exact opposite of what he actually wants to achieve.

You could clearly remember the last time he spoke to you, maybe five or six months ago.

“Y/N, please! I love you! Take my hand, come with me! You know that I fight for the right thing!”

Now you stand in front of him again. Well… you´re not sure if that even was Luke anymore. How much control does Kronos have over him?

Slowly he turns towards you. “Y/N” Luke´s voice is shaking. He seems to be fighting an internal battle, which Kronos wins.

As Percy and Annabeth start talking to him and trying to talk sense into him, you just stand there, petrified, not knowing what to say. Were there even words to say in such a situation? If yes, then Kronos doesn´t give you the time to speak them.

He attacks and the three of you give your best to keep him at bay. In the meantime Grover plays the flute, trying his best to support you.

You clutch your sword. For the first time in your life you truly hate fighting. You are as brilliant and intimidating as usual – of course you are – but still you hate fighting against the boy who once owned your heart. With every blow and every stab you are afraid of hurting him.

Maybe you are too soft to be the daughter of Ares. Would he understand or would he be disappointed?

During the fight Annabeth constantly tries to talk to Luke/Kronos. About Thalia, about their time before camp. Sometimes one might think that a small glimpse of Luke shines through.

A firm blow hits Annabeth and throws her across the room. She was lucky that it was only Kronos´ arm and not his blade. She could have been dead in a second.

“Luke” she tries to speak, but she almost can't get a sound out.

“Annabeth”, you shout, as you understand what she is trying to do. Her grey eyes search for yours, begging you silently. You give her a reassuring nod. Truly, a brilliant girl.

You gather all your strength and step forward. “Luke! Luke, can you hear me? I know, you´re still there.”

Kronos freezes and watches you, giving Percy the chance to scurry over to Annabeth.

Trying to suppress the tears that well, you force yourself to smile. You try to remember all the beautiful moments that you and Luke shared. Holding hands while walking around camp, watching the sunsets while enjoying some snacks, gentle kisses while sitting around the campfire.

You don´t want to believe that this Luke was gone. He has to still be there, somewhere underneath the monster that Kronos created.

“Do you remember my birthday?”, you ask him, while watching him intensively to see whether that triggers a reaction in him. “A few days before, I had told you about the chocolate chip muffins that my grandma used to make. You baked them for me, remember? And on my birthday you came to wake me up really really early in the morning. Clarisse almost murdered you for throwing pebbles on the cabin window, remember?”

You chuckle as you figuratively see your sisters face in front of you. Gods, on that day even you were afraid of her.

“You wanted to watch the sunrise together, remember? At our spot.” You search for a sign, for any sign, that Luke hears you. That he is still there. “The spot where you first kissed me. Do you remember that? The shore of the lake.”

Kronos´ expression changes. “Y/N”

Luke! Your heart skips a beat as you hear his voice. Is it enough? Have you gotten through to him?

He stumbles towards you, trying to suppress Kronos for at least a few seconds.

“Do you remember the gift you gave me?” You ask, your voice now lively, excited even.

Slowly Luke nods. “The silver bracelet with the forever symbol.”

“Exactly!” You laugh out, the first tears streaming down your face. “You want to see it?”

Luke´s eyes widen. “You still have it? You… you kept it, even though I…”

“Of course I kept it.” You roll up your sleeve and show it to him. You thought about throwing it away a few times, but you never had the heart to do it.

Maybe you kept it as a reminder that the time with Luke was real, maybe because something deep inside you hoped that one day you would wake up from this nightmare and find out that all of this was just a dream. A really bad dream.

Luke looks at you, frowning deeply. You notice how hard he tries to not let Kronos break through. How much longer can he keep this up? A few seconds? One minute?

"Do you still love me?”, he finally manages to say.

You look at him. His eyes. His beautiful eyes. “Yes, I always did.”

“Enough!” Kronos´ voice echoed across the room. Luke lost control. Something dark hisses through the air and shortly afterwards you feel a sharp pain shooting through your body.

At first you don´t realize what happened, you only hear Annabeth and Percy scream. Then your legs give away and you fall to the ground. Blood. On your hands, on your shirt.

The sound of clashing weapons. Annabeth and Percy have thrown themselves back into the fray in an attempt to push Kronos away from you. They scream Luke´s name, trying to help him get control again.

The image blurs before your eyes. The wound is too deep. Too much blood.

“Y/N!” Luke. He managed to suppress Kronos. Hopefully longer than a few seconds.

Annabeth and Percy look at you, tears streaming down their faces. They hesitate, not wanting to come too close as they want to give you and Luke some privacy. Nevertheless they stand ready if Kronos takes over again. 

Immediately Luke hurries over to you and falls down on his knees beside you.

It became more and more exhausting to keep your eyes open. “Luke” you manage to whisper, your voice breaking.

“I´m here.” His voice is as soft as you remember it. As soft as it was on the day he told you he loved you for the first time.

You try to lift your hand, but you don´t have the strength to do so.

“Please don´t die”, he whispers as he slowly starts stroking your hair. He keeps repeating his words, begging you, begging the gods, begging Kronos.

You blink and try your best to smile. However, due to the pain that rushes through your body, it becomes more of a grimace.

“I love you, Y/N”, Luke tells you, unable to hold back his tears, “Please forgive me”

And as you close your eyes you can feel his lips softly kissing yours.

Faith. Even though all these years he has made the worst decisions one can ever make, you're sure he's finally going to do the right thing.

#percy jackson #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #daughter of ares #traitor #percy jackson series

[megamindsecretlair]

I wish you would write a fic….

with a submissive Tyrone.

Like he’s hesitant at first, not really with it, but as it goes on he opens up a little bit more. I think he’s think he’s too tough to “wine” or “sound like a bitch”, but maybe reader convinced him somehow, and while he doesn’t eventually makes some sounds he begs more with his words, he gets all squirmy and he keeps chasing his hips you reader’s touch….. or something like that. 🫣

Ask and ye shall receive, sweet anon!

Pretty (Pretty) Boy

Pairing: Sub!Tyrone x Dom!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male receiving), teasing, cum swallowing, dirty talk, praise kink, D/s lite, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Use of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: See ask. For Valentine's Day, you decide to shake things up. You ask to take control in the bedroom and it unleashes a side of you that you want to see more often.

Word Count: 4,946k

A/N: This ask been kicking my ass!!!!! It has been in my box for so long, I am SOOO sorry, anon! I definitely got in my head for too long and didn't think I could pull it off. Whew! I had a bad day and this absolutely cured me. I need to lay down!! Sorry about the wait, but I hope you enjoy! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @longpause-awkwardsmile @insburner @slippinninque @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @bratzmaraj

“Can you at least try to enjoy it?” You pouted at Tyrone’s scrunched up face. You had tied him to the headboard because you knew your man. You knew that the things you had in mind were going to make him want to grab you and touch you. 

And once he started touching you, he would get his way. He always got his way. Not that you were complaining. Tyrone was addicted to your body and couldn’t help but touch all your smooth curves. But you had been floating this idea in your mind for a few weeks and tonight was the perfect night to try it. 

For Valentine’s Day, you asked Tyrone… if you could be the one in charge. Just thinking about having the entirety of this man at your mercy had you clenching your thighs beneath your robe. 

He tested the restraints by tugging on them. “You tied these a little too good. You been takin’ notes,” he said. He gave you a smirk, licking his lips and tilting his head to try and get a peek beneath your robe. 

You grabbed his chin and pushed his face to meet yours. You gave him a quick peck. “If you’re good, you’ll get rewarded,” you said, dropping your voice to a silky purr. 

You saw your words sink into his eyes. They rounded for half a second before his eyes drooped. “Aight, aight, but I ain’t no bitch,” he said. 

You gave him another peck. “Of course not,” you said. You gave him a wink and finished checking over the restraints and that he couldn’t secretly get out. You made sure the ties were well out of reach of his long fingers.

Those fingers were capable of bringing you intense pleasure and deftly worked over every inch of your skin. If he could get out of the ties, he absolutely would take over. 

The sweet, subtle aroma of honeysuckle and orange flower blossoms filled the room from the candles you had lit. The lights were dimmed giving it a completely intimate feel despite it being a basic room you were overly familiar with. 

You glanced at Tyrone as he watched you, a bit wary. You giggled. “I ain’t gon’ hurt you. Don’t you trust me?” You asked. 

“I trust you. I just..Ion know about this one,” he said. 

You leaned down once more and got close to his face. “Hey, we have a safe word. At any point you want me to stop, I will,” you said and pecked his nose, knowing he secretly loved that shit. He relaxed onto the bed, the rumpled sheets beneath him bunching up. 

“Come on then, baby. Show me what ya got,” he said.

You grinned and stood up, surveying your work. He looked damn good, sitting up against the headboard like a concubine. He still wore black briefs fit snug over his lower half. So plump and thick in thighs and ass that you wanted to take a bite out of him. 

You held yourself back and then told him you’d be right back. You went to your phone on the dresser and turned on your “Grown” playlist on Spotify. The deep croon of Ro James floated softly through the speakers and you left the room. 

You went to the bathroom, nerves bubbling in your gut but you stamped it out. Tyrone was being brave and letting you play out a fantasy of yours so you had to be brave as well. You took a few deep breaths and let your other side come out. Let your inner freak rise to the surface and completely take over. 

You looked good, he looked good, and you were getting everything you wanted and then some. So you threw your shoulders back and admired your sexy lingerie. You checked over the baroque garter belt with the straps pinching pleasurably into your thighs. The thigh high fishnet tights were flushed against your legs and your bra had your girls looking lovely. 

You left the room and walked back to your room. When you opened the door, Tyrone’s eyes snapped to yours. Heat brushed all over your skin as you walked further in and he took in your outfit. 

His briefs began to tent a little with evidence of his arousal standing at attention. You walked over to him, giving a dramatic swing of your hips. You trailed a finger from his legs to his thighs, to his stomach. His stomach contracted as you reached higher and he inhaled sharply as if you burned him. 

“Got damn,” he said, licking his lips. He moved his hands forward but was held back by the ties. He looked up and cursed, a smirk on his lips. “Forgot already. I really can’t touch you?” He asked.

“Ion know, maybe if you ask nicely,” you said. 

You bent down and grabbed the bottle of lotion there. It was unscented, but it would do the trick. He looked at you funny until you squirted some in your hand. He watched as your hands descended on his legs, rubbing the lotion into his skin.

“What you doin’?” He asked.

“You take care of me all the time. I want to take care of you. Now sit back and be quiet,” you said. You gave him a stern look and he smiled. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. 

You smiled, pleased that he was trying in his own way. You rubbed his legs and feet. He was jumpy by the time you got to that point, not used to anyone touching them. You kept it brief since you weren’t at the torturing stage yet.

Your eyes flicked to his as you worked on the other leg, an evil smirk on your face. He had no idea what he was in for. Was this how he usually felt? Drunk on power that he could do anything he wanted to your body and you would enjoy it? And you had no fuckin’ clue?

You advanced up to his thighs. A tiny sound escaped him, too low for you to hear what. He smiled at you to cover it up, biting his bottom lip and sitting back against the headboard. His eyes were lidded.

“Aren’t you being a good boy,” you said. 

“I like to please,” he said. 

“Mhm, you like to tease,” you said. You worked his massive thighs, spreading lotion all over. It was such a small thing, but you were mesmerized by the way the lotion sunk into his bronzed skin. 

He had a smattering of hair on his thighs as you relished in the feel of him. The power in his thighs alone. He could crush watermelons and you thought about how you were going to ride him.

You had been debating how to do just that once he said yes to doing this. Your pussy clenched thinking of riding him reverse cowgirl. Bouncing on his dick while you fondled his balls. Or you could ride him cowgirl and dig your nails across his chest. You could watch his face while you selfishly took what you wanted. 

The back of your neck tingled. You probably shouldn’t do this too often in the future if he was open to it. You were entirely too excited to use him like your own personal sex toy. 

You bent low over him while you pretended to work a problem area. A part of your arm grazed his dick and he hissed, ending with a small sigh. You pressed kisses to his stomach, intentionally skipping his dick. But your mouth was close enough that a little dip to your chin would bring your lips to the base of him. 

“You are the most amazing man ever. Do you have any idea how much I love you?” You asked. You peppered your praise in between kisses. “Do you have any idea how happy you make me?” 

You looked up at him while he had a wide smile on his face. His toothy grin brightened his face, making him as open as you've ever seen him. He was usually scowling, so damn serious all the time. His mind stayed on his money and his lady. You smiled at the joy you saw there. 

“Shit, got a nigga blushin’ over here,” he said. If you weren’t mistaken…his voice was a little thick with emotion. 

You weren’t going to point it out so you kissed his dick through the fabric. “You’re doing so good for me, Ty. You comfortable?” You asked.

“You could loosen these ties,” he said. 

“Nice try,” you said. You stood up and put more lotion into your palms. You worked your way over his chest, rubbing his solid stomach and studying his dips and grooves. You’d been together long enough that you knew every inch of him.

But it was rare when you got to explore his body. Take your time and see what you could do to him. Your hands crept up his sides and when you wiggled your fingers, he twisted away from you. 

“Aye, aye! Don’t start that shit!” He yelled. 

“Excuse me?” You asked. 

“Don’t start that shit!” He said. 

You slid your fingers upwards anyway and tickled him in earnest. He twisted and writhed beneath you, his legs flopping on the bed.

“Because I seem to remember begging for mercy and someone said no,” you said. You giggled as you watched his face in a mix of pain and happiness. He threw his head back trying to get away from you but he was powerless. 

“You’re lucky I’m nicer,” you said. You stopped tickling him and moved your attention to his arms. You licked your lips as you ran your hands over his muscles. Back and forth, back and forth. His muscles contracted and you traced one long vein down his forearm.

His tattoos were an aphrodisiac all on its own. The lion was your favorite. He said it represented his dueling spirits, both lover and fighter. You worked the lotion into his wrists around the restraints. Too bad you couldn’t rub his hands. He had such big hands, big enough to grab your ass whenever he felt like. Which was all the time. 

Tyrone loved you out loud and that was your favorite part about him. There wasn’t an inch of your soul that didn’t love and cherish this man. You didn’t have the words or the comprehension to let him see how much you loved him. How much you woke up everyday and had to wrap your fingers around your arms and squeeze them tight. To make sure that it was real and you had a man who adored you. 

You just wanted to make him feel good. To make him feel a fraction of what he did for you on a regular basis. You cleaned your hands on a towel on the nightstand. “Feel good, baby?” You asked.

Tyrone groaned, his eyes drooping further as if he could go to sleep. He smiled, wide once more. Fuck, you would never get sick of seeing that look on his face. You would take a mental snapshot and lock it in your heart. You would pull it out a thousand times a day just to remember this over and over again. 

“Yes, ma’am. I see why you always askin’ for one now,” he said with a chuckle. Hell yeah. When Tyrone rubbed your calves after a stressful day on your feet, you were jelly in his hands and would agree to absolutely everything he wanted. If he wanted to pour ice cream on your pussy and lick it off, you would not object. 

But tonight was about making him feel good. You smiled as you went to the foot of the bed. You turned your palm until you were cupping his balls. 

“Now, what do we have here,” you said. You increased the pressure a bit, squeezing his balls until he groaned a little louder. 

You turned your fingers, massaging his balls in the way you knew made him glitch. He jerked and twisted beneath you, his breaths coming in choppy and weak. Your pussy throbbed, watching the mix of emotions play out over his face. 

Oh, you could get used to this. Used to driving him wild first. “Okay, okay, okay,” he huffed. He drew his legs up to try and dislodge you. His arms wrestled with the ties as he tried to get free. When it felt too good, when his voice was low in the back of his throat, he would make you stop. 

He assured you that he couldn’t cum this way, but you wanted to know what would happen if you kept going. If he didn’t stop you by pushing your hands away. You continued fondling him and he squirmed beneath you. His arms shook more violently as he tried in vain to stop you.

“You know what to say to get me to stop, baby. You gon’ say it?” You asked. 

His eyes were closed tightly, head thrown back. You relished the look of strain on him. How he looked so…pretty. 

He sounded so pretty too. His little staccato whimpers were turning you on in the worst way. You were dripping wet already and you hadn’t really done anything yet. You were going to burn up before you had a chance to let the night play out.

You were too excited, too turned on. Electricity danced in your veins. Your fingers tingled. Everything seemed amplified. His hair is just a touch more coarse. His voice throaty and guttural. The honeysuckle scent invaded your nostrils and now you would forever associate him with the scent. 

“Hol’ on, hol’ on, damn,” he groaned. 

“Ah, ah. You’re a big boy, use your words,” you cooed to him. You leaned forward, getting closer to him so that you didn’t miss a single thing.

The way sweat gathered on his brow and slid down his neck. The way his wide nose flared. The way his pink tongue darted out to lick his parched lips. Those sharp intakes of air. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

Your heart cracked in two as you finally got a sense of what he had been talking about. How him hovering over you, looking down at your face, made his entire world light up. You understood now. You felt that same light burst out of you. You were breathless with it. 

“Babe, babe,” he said. His voice was so strained. You were so wet. An empty ache pulsed at the core of you. You needed this man inside of you. But you wanted to savor each moment too. 

“Words, Tyrone, or I stop,” you said.

“No, no!” He shouted. 

“Oh, so you can use your words,” you mocked. 

“Yes,” he hissed. 

“Well then, show me. Show me you can use your words like a good boy,” you said. 

“Don’t stop,” he said. 

“Do better. Beg me, Tyrone,” you commanded. 

It was a desperate need to hear the words on his lips that crawled over your skin. 

“Fuck,” Tyrone said. He licked his lips a few times. His breathing was choppy. The rapid rise and fall of his chest had you clenching and unclenching around anothing. 

He was trying to hold onto that bit of control. That stubborn fight in him was costing him unnecessary torment. You moved closer so that you could peck him with kisses on his temple and cheek.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. You can let go, baby,” you whispered in his ear. 

You huffed and jerked as if he would cum but it didn’t seem like he was going to bust. You knew his face and that wasn’t it. 

You moved your hands to the band of the briefs. He took in deep breaths as your fingers slipped below the band. 

“You gotta tell me the magic words,” you said. 

“Come on,” he groaned. 

His hips moved side to side so subtly you almost missed it. Your fingers slid across his skin and you smiled. He was enjoying this. He really was lucky that you were so nice. You weren’t going to lord it over his head. 

“You come on. You want that nut, don’t you, baby?” You asked. You lowered your voice so that it was a little softer. He loved the sound of your voice and when you talked like this, like an innocent little doll, he said it made him brick up instantly. 

“Fuck,” he huffed out. “Please, babe. Touch me,” he said.

“Hm, that sounds like a command. Are you ordering me to do something, Ty?” You asked.

“No, ma’am,” he said. He shook his head back and forth. 

“Come on, be good for me,” you said.

“Please, please, please touch me.” he said. 

You kissed his cheek. “Thank you, pretty boy,” you said.

You began to stroke his long, thick dick. Your hands barely wrapped around him. You used both hands to stroke him slow and hard. 

The song switched to Sevyn Streeter and you shivered. Her songs always made you feel so sexy and in your feminine power. Impatient, you moved his briefs down so that you could look at your handiwork.

You looked at your hands with your nails painted in your favorite color. Your hands sliding over his dick, getting all kinds of delicious sounds from him. How it seemed you were pumping the cum out of him. 

He was still so pretty. Dicks were not supposed to be pretty. They were wrinkly and hairy. You’d seen one, you’d seen them all. Perhaps that was only for men you didn’t like. Because Tyrone’s was like no other. He wielded that thing like a deadly weapon.

It had been inside of you, handing out orgasms like it was sustenance. He kept himself well trimmed and groomed. Telling you that he needed to keep your plate clean. You watched your hands and suddenly grew jealous that they were having all the fun.

You got onto the bed and straddled him in a reverse cowgirl stance. You leaned across his thighs and stomach, scooting your ass back until it was tucked high in the air. Your face was level with his dick so you sucked him down. 

“Oh, fuck,” he jerked off of the bed. You rode him, wiggling your ass for him. His breath fanned across your ass as he tried to lean forward. There wasn’t much slack on the ties so he only got so far. 

“Umf, lemme taste you, please?” He asked.

He was a quick learner. You suckled the tip of his dick and the roar in his chest almost made you cum on the spot. You let him go with a wet pop, licking your lips to collect wayward precum. 

“You know my pussy wet, Tyrone,” you sung. You wiggled your ass. You looked back at him. His eyes were transfixed to your jiggly ass, the globes shaking with its own gravity. He groaned. His hands flexed. Like if he could just grab hold all would be right in the world. 

“You got me so fuckin’ horny, baby,” you moaned. 

“Oh, I need to taste it, babe,” he said. 

“You wanna taste me?” You asked.

Tyrone nodded, tearing his eyes away from your ass just long enough to give you a quick glance. 

“You gotta earn that. Be a good boy for me and cum in my mouth,” you said.

You put your lips back on him and sucked on him just the way you wanted. You went at your own pace, bobbing your head up and down and trying to fit as much of him as you can. His hips bucked on the bed. The heels of his feet dug into the sheets as you gagged on him. 

He lifted his hips and came with an aggressive growl. You sucked and moaned as his cum filled your mouth. You swallowed all of it. Usually you stopped and went to wipe your mouth of any more. But this time, you kept going.

These sounds were different. These were raw and primal. He muttered and sputtered through all kinds of excited sounds as you sucked the fucking soul out of him. 

“Uh, u-” he moaned.

You gyrated on his chest. You felt that moan deep down inside. All the way down to your womb. 

“Shit, I-!” He bucked his hips again and came one more time. His cum splashed the back of your throat and once more, you drank him down. You slowed your strokes, running your tongue lightly down his shaft. He made tortured moaning noises that had you seeing double. 

You stopped with your lips around his tip and then finally let go. You moaned and looked back at him. He was definitely in pain now. That shouldn’t quite turn you on this much. But who were you trying to fool?

You loved this look of pain on his face. Where he gave way to his base instincts. To fuck and be fucked. 

“You earned an award, baby, for being so good,” you said.

Your left hand descended down to your pussy where your fingers instantly slipped through your wet folds. You collected your essence and brought it to his lips. He panted before smelling your scent on your fingers.

His eyes were closed so he moved by the tilt of his wide nose towards your fingers. He opened his mouth and suckled them into his mouth. His tongue ran over your fingers, collecting every last drop.

“You so pretty, Ty,” you breathed. 

“Timeout,” he panted. 

You nodded and got up off of him. The song switched once more to Victoria Monet. It was a good song to relax to. You laid down next to him, wrapping your arm around his middle and staying there. 

He groaned and shook beneath you. His eyes were so tightly closed you wondered if he was intentionally getting himself hurt. 

“Are you okay, Tyrone?” You asked.

“Too much,” he whispered. 

You nodded and focused on not setting his skin on fire. You gave him small, tolerable kisses while he calmed down. You checked on him periodically, making him talk it out like he did for you. 

“Baby, please, I need to be inside you,” Tyrone finally whispered. You looked down the length of him. He was growing by the second. He swelled against your thigh, filling up just for you. 

“You sure you want to keep going? We don’t have to. You’ve already given me so much,” you said. 

“Please,” he said, his voice breaking on the word. “I’m going to die if I don’t get to feel you. I’ll get on my knees and beg right now, untie me,” he said.

You looked up and brought your hand up to cup his face. Stroke his beard. Your hands slid down to his arms, past the tattoos all over his arms. There were some on his chest as well. You wanted to lick every single one. 

You straddled his hips and leaned up so you could look at his face. His eyes immediately went to your breast, concealed by your peek-a-boo bra. The sheer lace let him see your nipples. You played with your breasts as you began to tease him.

You slid your wet pussy across his chest and he licked his lips. His eyes dipped down to where you gyrated on him. His eyes. There was so much you could glean from his eyes alone. He wanted to devour you whole. 

You didn’t give him what he wanted. This was still your fantasy. You turned around on him, getting into a sitting position. You moved your panties to the side and grabbed his dick. You guided him inside you. He was as hard as a brick and nearly as thick as one. 

You groaned, sitting yourself down on that beefy dick. His head thumped on the headboard a few times as you seemed to continue sliding. Only Tyrone could get so deep that you felt him kissing your cervix. You clenched around him thinking of how he could fill you up directly. Shooting his load to the heart of you.

You weren’t sure when or how you became obsessed with being filled up by him but the image was provocative. Everytime he went inside you, your mind instantly flashed to how passionately he would grab your hips and slam you down on his dick.

You groaned and began to bounce, the bed creaking loudly over the music playing. It spurned you on more to hear it. You bounced faster, chasing your pleasure with reckless abandon. 

“Fuck, use me,” Tyrone moaned. “Use me, baby.” 

Your hands gripped his thighs and held on. You steadied yourself and bounced to your heart’s content. He moved seamlessly inside you, pulsing every now and then with his desire. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned. Your screeches were getting louder and louder. 

“Let me feel it, baby, please,” he said, tacking on the please at the last second. Old habits die hard. 

All the teasing you did to him only served to tease yourself. You were already close. Especially with how deep in your guts he was. At this rate, he could definitely rearrange some things in there. You bounced faster. You were so close. So close. So close.

You screamed as you came, howling into the night that you were in heaven. Soaring through the clouds with wind in your air and space beneath your feet. You paused, clutching his thighs as you shook on top of him. 

You cried, your voice too warbly to be coherent. No help from him and you were still a mess on top of him. Flooding him with your arousal. You clenched and unclenched his dick, squeezing him tight enough to make him moan. 

“Can I cum in that pussy?” Tyrone asked. He moved his hips, wiggling you on top of him. You moaned as he pulsed inside of you. You were still so sensitive from your powerful orgasm. A shiver worked its way down your spine and you arched into it. 

“Since you asked so nicely, you can,” you said. 

Tyrone moved his hips. He managed a few inches and your eyes crossed feeling him deep inside. You wanted him to stay there. You wanted to stay connected. If he wanted you to cockwarm him, you would. Just sit there with him lodged inside of you busting load after load into you. 

“Ouue,” you moaned. 

You helped bounce on him while he moved his hips up, bucking and fucking you. You tugged on your nipples, needing a little bite of pain to really drive your pleasure higher. You moved one hand down south, reaching under your panties and circling your clit. 

“Sheeit,” you moaned and came. At the same time, Tyrone moaned loud and proud as he came, flooding your insides. You felt it fill you up to the fucking brim. 

When you finished, Tyrone fell back to the bed, completely spent. Your legs were wobbly noodles. You didn’t think you could move. You took deep breaths, waiting for the ecstasy to dissipate. 

But he always had the strength to make sure you were okay. You were going to do the same, because you loved him and wanted to make him comfortable. You got off of him slowly. He groaned as he slipped out. You got to your feet on the carpet.

You rubbed the sweat from his brow. “Talk to me, baby, are you okay?” You asked. You untied him and rubbed his wrists, rubbing the circulation back into it. You went around the bed and did the same thing to his other wrist.

“Hm, sleepy,” he said. He yawned to prove his point. You smiled at him. 

“Not without me.”

You went to the bathroom and warmed up a washcloth. You cleaned him off, wiping your combined juices. He hissed a little as the cloth touched his dick, but he quickly settled into the bed.

You went to the bathroom and cleaned yourself up with a different cloth. You went back to the room to find Tyrone had slid down into the bed, resting his head against the pillow. Now the mu’fucka knew how you felt when you were overstimulated and speaking in tongues just to make the pleasure stop. It was almost like it was too much. But you couldn’t help but keep going, wanting more.

You blew out the candles and turned off the music. You turned off the overhead light and climbed into bed with Tyrone, pulling the covers up over your lower half. Your top half was too sensitive and overheated for anything more. 

You kissed his arms and chest once you settled into his arms. He flipped over unconsciously, pulling your back into his chest. You snuggled down into his hot body. Your back turned feverish just from his body heat. 

“Wait ‘till I recover,” he murmured into your ear. “I’ma get my payback.”

“See, that was all love. Why it gotta be payback?” You asked.

His hand flexed against your belly. He squeezed your flesh in his big hands and your pussy throbbed. You were already sore from earlier, you did not need another round. 

“Just gotta,” he said.

“But why?”

“Thems the rules,” he said. His voice was hoarse and seemed louder in the quiet, dark room. 

He fell silent and you thought he had drifted off to sleep. You were about to fall yourself when he hummed. 

“Baby?” He asked.

“Yes?” You asked.

“Can you call me ‘pretty boy’ more often?” He whispered into the air. 

“Of course. Anything for my pretty, pretty boy.”

Whew! If you need a cool down with another one, there's so much more! The Secret Tyrone Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Tyrone Files #Sub!Tyrone x Dom!Black!reader #Sub!Tyrone #Sub Tyrone #Tyrone x Black!reader #Tyrone x Black reader #Tyrone x Fem!reader #Tyrone x Fem reader #Tyrone x reader #Tyrone x you #Tyrone imagine #They Cloned Tyrone fanfic #They Cloned Tyrone fan fic #They Cloned Tyrone fanfiction #They Cloned Tyrone fan fiction #Tyrone fanfic #Tyrone fan fic #Tyrone fanfiction #Tyrone fan fiction #Tyrone x Dom!reader #They Cloned Tyrone smut #They Cloned Tyrone

[haechansdoll]

you belong to me - ldh x reader

Pairing : Lee Dongyuck x f!Reader

Description : Mark is continuously flirting with you and your jealous boyfriend Haechan must show you to whom you belong.

Warnings: smut (obvs), possessiveness, swearing, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration,reader has the ability to sense the emotions of others.

"Is that a new dress Y/n? It's stunning", Mark grinned at you from his seat across from you in the plane and you smiled back. Obviously you weren't a huge fan of Mark after everything that happened in Mexico, but Mark was your friend once, and you saw this mission as an opportunity for him to be your friend once again.

"Thank you, I've had it for quite a bit. Haechan got it for me for my birthday one year", Mark nodded at you, listening intently.

Your eyes glanced from him to Haechan. Of course Haechan was staring daggers at him. Obviously because the tension was still there after the Mexico trip.

"He must have fantastic taste. Your figure is lovely y/n" Mark smirked and you smiled in return.

Soon enough, you felt Haechan sit down next to you, he was angry, you could feel it. Mexico really ruined his relationship with Mark.

"So, Y/n, have you been seeing anyone?", Mark tilted his head and immediately you felt negative energy pouring from Haechan. You held his hand.

"Haechan and I have been together for some time. Shortly after Mexico we got together", You smiled. You felt Haechan' anger dwindle, and you felt a negative emotion come from Mark.

This went on for a while, a series of charming words coming from Mark, each of his compliments forcing Haechan' grip to grow tighter on your hand.

Finally the plane came to a halt and Haechan stormed off. Mark slowly left. Stretching, you stood up and walked behind Jeno, Jaemin walked behind you.

"Is the professor okay?", he asked quietly so Jeno wouldn't hear him. You shrugged slightly.

"He's angry, at Mark", you said. You didn't need a mutant ability to know that much.

"Any idea why?", Jaemin asked with a smug grin, you nearly rolled your eyes, you thought it was beyond obvious what was going on with Haechan.

"Well Haechan hasn't been very cool with Mark ever since Mexico, when he abandoned us, took Raven with him, and sort of paralyzed Haechan.", you told Jaemin. Truly you'd assumed that being from the future, he'd know Haechan wasn't such a fan of Mark.

Jaemin chuckled quietly and shook his head. "That's not it", his reaction earned a raised eyebrow from you. "Suho is all over you. That's the issue here". Jaemin told you.

You just laughed in return. He was full of it.

———————

"Hm, the motel rooms aren't half bad", you examined the room you were in while Haechan and you kicked off your shoes, just one bed, a cute sofa, a mini fridge, and blankets that appeared to be very clean.

Haechan gave you only half a nod, you could still feel his anger. You felt a pang of sadness in your chest at the lack of response from him. You'd done nothing wrong, Mark had done nothing wrong yet either.

"Haechan my love, what is going on with you-", you hadn't the luxury of continuing your sentence as Haechan cut you off by turning to face you and pushing you against the door behind you with his body.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?", his face was inches away from yours. "Allowing Mark to flirt with you for so long, accepting his flirtations even", Haechan scoffed, his eyes looking down to meet yours.

"Flirt with me? It's been ages since I've seen him, he was once my friend, we were just chatting", you didn't understand what Haechan wasn't on about. You just understood he was angry. Mark wasn't flirting, was he? Perhaps Jaemin wasn't full of it.

"Just chatting. Priceless. He's basically in love with you Y/n", Haechan' voice was deep and dripping with possessiveness. You'd be lying if you said it didn't cause you to feel a warmth deep inside you.

"Haechan, Mark is not in love with me. He must know by now I'm in love with you.", you spoke quietly. You could feel Haechan' anger grow smaller with your words.

"For someone with the ability to sense the emotions of others, you're not so great at sensing when asshole war criminals are in love with you". His words made you want to smile despite their offensive appearance.

It wasn't often Haechan showed raw emotion around you, he had a habit of hiding away from you and Jeno whenever he was.. feeling. You loved the vulnerability he was showing, the trust that turned you on almost as much as his jealousy and possessiveness.

You placed both hands on either side of his cheeks and smiled at him softly. You ignored the growing wetness between your thighs as he gently placed his hands around your wrists, staring back at him.

"Haechan Lee. There will never ever be anyone who will be loved by me half as much as I love you. Nobody would ever make me happier, or make me feel better than you", you could practically feel Haechan' heart swell, but you could also sense his arousal.

Haechan' hands tightened around your wrists, he pushed them up above your head and against the door, leaning towards you, his face was barely enjoy from yours, his breath was tickling your lips and his eyes looked down at yours, filled with lust.

"I'm well aware no one else will make you feel as good as I have. You're all mine angel, right?", Haechan asked. Your breath got caught in your throat, similarly to how Haechan didn't show much emotion, it also wasn't often that he would act like this, pure jealousy and arousal and taking it all out on you just the way you wanted. You nodded your head in response to his question.

He shifted the position of his head, his lips just grazing yours. You tilted your head so that you could kiss him and he pulled back. "Use your words my darling".

"I'm all yours, I promise", you whispered to him. He used one hand to continue holding your wHis hand held your chin gently, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, and he pressed his lips firmly against yours.

You whimpered softly against his lips, Haechan let go of your hands so he could but his on your wrist. Your hands found their place in his long disheveled hair, brushing it out of his face and tangling it between your fingers.

Haechan pulled back slightly and looked down at your breasts through the top of your dress.

"Mark wasn't incorrect you know, you are stunning in that dress. Unfortunately however, I want it off". Haechan' hands held the bottom of your dress, waiting for any form of consent to take it off.

He was quickly pulling your dress up and over your head when you nodded. You unbuttoned his shirt as he unclaspex your bra, then you both shed your top's in unison.

"Go lay on the bed my sweet love", he hummed and you quickly complied. The bed creaked quietly, you hoped that it wouldn’t later alert the person in the neighbouring suit, which was Eric.

The pillows were soft against the skin of your neck when you rested your head on them. Haechan hand grazed your thigh as he stood next to the bed, looking down st you. “Extraordinary”, his grip tightened on your thigh before he moved his hand up, taking hold of the waist band of your panties and pulling them down slowly, you lifted your hips to help him out.

“Y/n”, he got your attention as he removed his belt, then unbuttoned his pants. You hummed in response and he smiled, “I love you” he said.

“I love you as well”, you blushed and turned your head away only for him to turn it so you were looking at him.

“You’re beyond beautiful my darling girl”. Your face was red and your cunt was wet.

You nodded, “and I’m all yours”.

Haechan bit his lip and kicked his pants off as well as his boxer shorts, then climbed over you, hovering above yourself, holding himself up with his elbows that were on either side of your shoulders, trapping you in.

Your hands rested on his waist as he kissed you, his tongue darting out to lick your lip and you let him explore your mouth, he’d hum every time you flinched or whimpered and that only made you more aroused.

He used his knee to nudge your thighs apart from one another, you got the hint and spread them on your own. He placed his cock on your cunt, allowing you to feel the weight of it. You couldn’t help but grind your hips forward, desperate to feel him inside you.

Haechan’ cock was beautiful. It wasn’t exactly ‘large’ but it was above average, and it was thicker than average but just barely, he filled you perfectly.

“Do you want my cock angel?”, you were nodding before the words had left his mouth. He moved to rest on his knees, slowly teasing his cock on the outside of your cunt, grazing your clit with the top of his cock “Come on, you know better Y/n, use your words sweet girl”.

“Please Haechan, my love, I need you inside me, I want your cock.”, He pouted at you with fake sympathy, his thumb pressed onto your clit, slow circles forcing you to arch your back and whine, loud and drawn out. You knew your sounds had an affect on him, the way he’d grown under his breath in response, and the way you could feel his cock pulsing against your heat.

“Who do you belong to sweet love?”, Haechan asked, he barely nudged the tip of his cock into you, holding your hips so you couldn’t push him in further, you whimpered, he was driving you mad.

“You Haechan. I belong to you and nobody else. I’m yours”, tears pricked at your eyes from how desperate you were for him and he groaned.

“All mine”, he said quietly, before he slowly thrusted into you, his fingertips digging into the soft skin of your hips.

You felt like you stopped being able to breathe for a moment before moaning loudly, perhaps loud enough for Mark to hear you.

When you’d adjusted to Haechan’ size he pulled out slightly before thrusting back in, using your hips as handles to pull you back and forth, as well as to stabilize himself.

You were moaning loud, and soon Haechan was as well, you were sure Mark could hear at least you, and at this point you didn’t care if he did.

Haechan moved one hand to hold himself up so he could lean down to kiss your neck while he fucked you mercilessly. 

Haechan shifted his hips so he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, that combined with him sucking on your neck was throwing you into ecstasy. And you were sure you’d have the hickeys to prove it tomorrow.

“Maybe if I mark you up well enough, Mark will get it through his thick skull that he should stay away from what’s mine”, Haechan nipped on your skin and you moaned into his ear, encouraging him to speed up.

“Rub yourself for me pretty angel”, he groaned into your ear and it didn’t take you more than a few seconds to obey, your hand reaching down to your clit and rubbing tight fast circles. You squeezed your eyes shut as your back arched against Haechan’ chest.

“Haechan, oh fuck, I’m close”, you groaned, your free hand sliding up to Haechan’ hair, tangling once again. He’d never admit it but it ruined him when you’d pull his hair.

“Come on my love, cum with me.”, he moaned into your ear. You felt heat surging through your body and suddenly your vision went white, you’re whole body tensed up and your eyes leaked tears from the overwhelming amount of stimulation.

Your cunt clenching around Haechan had him moaning loud, before he was stuttering his hips and filling you with his cum.

He finally laid next to you after his high settled. You both caught your breath and you looked over at him, admiring how pretty he looked, sweaty, red cheeks and messy hair.

“Haechan”, you got his attention. “There truly will never be someone I love half as much as you. You’re beyond beautiful and kind and intelligent. I love every part of you”, you whispered. He blushed at your words.

“I love every bit of you as well angel”

#nct haechan #nct #nct imagines #nct smut #kpop #lee donghyuk x reader #lee donghyuck #haechan #kpop smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #haechan x you #haechan x reader #haechan hard hours #nct dream x reader #haechan smut

[ashdreams2023]

Hiya xx it’s chronic pain anon again! I was wondering if you could write a smutty Loki one shot where readers hips/knees start hurting half way through and it’s just them talking it through and adjusting (bonus points if it’s a bit giggly and fluffy) and I’m a sucker for hand holding xx (expect me to constantly be here requesting very self indulgent one shots) I love your work xx ✨✨

Finally got to yours! And you’re always welcome to request as much as you want!

Tw: nsfw (not exactly detailed but ya know)

Slow down

You laughed softly as you dragged him to your room, away from the noise and everyone, his breathing was loud and in your ear.

"Kiss me" you breathed then gasped when he lifted you off the ground and pressed you against the wall, not too rough because he knows your body’s limit.

He kissed you hungrily, his nails digging into your soft flesh, enjoying your shallow breathing when he breaks the kiss and sight of your puffy lips.

You warped your arms around his neck and let him carry you to the bed, where he pulled off your clothes and pampered your face with kisses.

"Loki" you squirmed between kisses but he only chuckled and continued loving your every inch until he was sure you were ready to take him.

Your mouth fell open when he slide his impressive size inside of you, you felt so full.

"Perfection" He groaned moving his hips, he gripped the sheet underneath your head and thrusted deep inside of you.

You moaned uncontrollably but clung to him in hopes it would feel better, but after a couple more thrusts your hips were starting to feel sore and your knees hurt from being in the same position for long.

"Loki…slow down" you shifted uncomfortably and tapped his shoulder, he stopped immediately and looked down at you then pulled out "No no! I like it but…my hips it’s just um…I’m sorry"

Loki shook his head and intertwined your fingers together then kissed your flushed cheeks "No I’m sorry, I didn’t take a hold of myself"

"Please don’t stop" you looked at him with big needy eyes.

"I won’t as long as you can take it"

"I can! I’ll try my best, I promise" with that he kissed your lips once again and slide down one of his hand between your legs and enter two fingers inside, pumping them out and in.

Your back arched and Loki sucked on your neck leaving pretty and dark marks on your skin "that’s it, that’s my dove" you moaned breathlessly "I can follow your pace all night"

His lips never left your skin, they were always touching you, he rubbed your sides and loosened the pressure on your joints as he entered again.

This time taking it slow and keeping his gaze on you, making sure you’re not in any pain or major discomfort.

Fair to say you did enjoy yourself, even with a little soreness but Loki took care of it too, he always took care of you, and don’t make yourself feel bad about, seeing you happy makes him happy.

#imagine #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #fanfic #mcu loki #loki/y/n #headcanon #loki layfeyson x reader #loki friggachild #loki friggason #loki smut #loki laufesyon x reader #loki layfeyson x you

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#356

“Hey Todd!  Todd!  Come out of that shower….  Don’t bother covering up.  When I come home from a hard day’s work, I expect my space to be ready for me—a quiet space where I can wind down.  It’s been one shitty fucked up day.  I got told by my boss at the prison that I got a shitty attitude.  I go over to my girlfriend’s for some pussy and she gives me every excuse not to put out after getting me all horned up.  Then I come home, and I find your shit all over the place on your first full day as my new roommate.  Come with me, I need to fucking cunt you….

“Shut the fuck up.  Don’t bother protesting.  I know you are a cum guzzler.  I knew it when you first checked out the place.  I don’t give a shit that you say you have a girlfriend.  If you ain’t a fag, you will be by the end of the day, several times over. 

“Trying to run like that was stupid.  I work as a corrections officer, I’ve subdued men twice your size.   I got you faggot, and you try to run?  Your long hair is a great handle….  We’re going into my room.  I should cunt you in your own bed, but it’s clear that I need to do this…. 

“Those handcuffs are not coming off until your attitude has corrected.  Shut the fuck up.  I don’t want to hear your fucking mouth running….  This should keep you shut up; open your mouth.  No?  Well too bad….  This is my nastiest pair of undies.  Here! Look at that skid mark.  Now if I have to pry that jaw open, I will make sure that skid goes right on your tongue.  Are you going to open up?

“There you go.  Now keep it in there.  You are going to be doing a lot of screaming.  Look over here.  Look at my dick.  This is the cock that is going to cunt you.  You say you ain’t queer.  You ever have a dick in your ass?...  Hot damn!  I get a cherry to pop. 

“The way you are shaking your head no, I’m beginning to think that you might not be queer.  I’m still going to cunt you; it needs to happen. 

“Feel my cock in your crack.  Heavy ain’t it.  Look at yourself in the mirror over there.  You have a great view of yourself and more importantly me. 

“That glob of spit is the only lube I will use.  This is a cunting after all.  It needs to be painful.  You ready?...  Don’t care if you’re not.  I’m coming in.  Oh man I can feel your pussy lips trying to resist… but ultimately spread apart.

“When I cunt a fag or a bitch, I take it slowly on my first thrust.  I want you to feel just how big my cock is inside you.  Are you crying?  Good.  Crying just means that you are accepting the inevitability of your situation.  You got about two more inches to go.  You want to feel less pain, then accept your new role in life.  Accept that you are a cunt for men to use.  Once you submit to my cock, the pain will ease up. 

“You got another inch to go.  I can feel your second sphincter.  It’s welcoming my dickhead.  Your cunt was made for my cock.  Almost there.

“And there it is.  You’ve stop resisting me.  You are my cunt now.  I have all eight-and-a-half inches buried deep.  This is where my cock belongs.  Every day, when I get home, I want to unwind with a cigar—an Asylum, 880 or 680—and an ice-cold Glenlivet waiting for me.  I want this cunt to be cleaned out, lubed up, and hungry for me every fucking day.

“Now when you first contacted me about my room, I looked into your background.  It’s very interesting.  I don’t need to go into details, do I?  We both know that there is no possibility of you doing anything stupid like screaming rape.  Trust me, I would know how to make your life a living hell. 

“Do you understand what I am saying?  Here spit out my underwear.  Do you understand?...  Good.  Now if I uncuff you, are you going to do something stupid?...  Good.  Remember, I can put these on whenever I feel like it. 

“You ready to be cunted?...  What you thought being buried balls deep was it?  Fuck no.  That was just getting you ready.  I have the whole afternoon.  I can fuck for hours without cumming.  And today, I plan on it.  I need to make this hole a well-used cunt: puffy, bleeding, and gaping.  The only way to do that is with a continual brutal assault for at least an hour or more.  The best thing for you to do is just lay there like a dead fish and take it. 

“I would ask if you are ready, but I don’t care.”

[cyberrose2001]

TFP Optimus x fem!Reader

Requested by @musicalmedli, who wanted a continuation/re-write of this fic -> read here

sorry it took so long! (literally months oop, writers block is an ass)

I wrote the smut first and asked questions later, so apologies if the flow is off a bit.

also is this an excuse to write reader and OP 69ing? yes maybe shut up

Warnings: OP seducing reader, mostly dom!OP, fem human reader, 69 position.

Word count: 1976

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT READ

Some time had passed since your embarrassing encounter with Optimus, and things around the base had been quite unusual, to say the least. Not only has Optimus been practically attached to your hip, but he’s also started behaving very strangely around you.

He smells nice, like he had somehow nabbed a fresh bottle of cologne. His frame looks cleaner and more buffed out than usual. One would say that the red and blue mech had taken more interest in the upkeeping of personal hygiene, which isn’t hard to believe. But what is hard to believe is the increasing amount of subtle winks he gives you when no one else is around.

You aren’t sure what’s got into him or why he constantly asks how your day was with a renewed suave. Maybe it might be better to confront him, but that thought seems to have manifested in reality as your phone pings a message from Optimus.

“Please meet me in my quarters.”, it reads.

Well, aren’t you the psychic?

-

This was probably expected coming from the recent behaviour of the Prime, but the shock never leaves your face as you close the door behind you and step into his candle-lit quarters.

Optimus is mass-displaced, slumping in a chair facing you, pedes half crossed on his knees, giving you a slight glimpse of his inner thighs. A forearm rests on the armchair, digits tapping rhythmically as if to send you into a trance. His other servo drapes lightly on his thigh, brushing against the inner protomass. You gulp, raking your eyes over every inch of his frame until you meet half-lidded optics. Soft but unquestionably oozing arousal.

You try to say something, anything, but your mouth runs dry from the pure, unfiltered sex radiating from him. Optimus notices and his thin-lined dermas curl up devilishly.

“Good evening,” Optimus hums, “Apologies for messaging you abruptly, but I’d like to talk with you if that is all right.”

From his body language alone, you’re sure that he didn’t call you here just to ‘talk’. But you digress; it could be something important. So, you nod, stepping into the dimly lit room.

“Uh, yeah. It’s ok. I wasn’t busy anyway,” You walk up to him with the hesitance of a newborn doe, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I suppose there is,” Optimus leans forward once you’re standing directly in front of him, his elbow on his knee, and holy fuck is he hot, “Can I just say how utterly bewitching you are?”

A pause, “M-Me? Surely not. I think you’ve got the wrong gal.”

“Was it not you that I attempted to court to forestall your leave?” Optimus tilts his helm, digits drumming on his knee, “It worked, did it not?”

You need to be very careful with your following words because the look Optimus is giving you right now screams, ‘If you say yes, I’m gonna fuck the brains out of you and give you the best orgasm of your entire life’. Which doesn’t sound too bad right now; your loins are on fire, and it’s becoming increasingly harder to think straight.

“I know you harbour feelings for me,” Optimus pushes his servos into the armrest and stands up. He then crouches down to be at eye level with you because even when mass-displaced, he still towers above you by a solid foot, “Say the word, and I will satisfy you enough to last you a lifetime.”

Your legs are about to give out, but that’s ok because you’ve taken the liberty to wrap your arms around his neck. Faces so close now that you’re breathing in his ex-vents, “Is that a challenge?”

Optimus’ optics dim, giving you the most sultry grin that rivals the sun. He wraps his arms behind you and picks you up, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist, “Is that… your permission to proceed?”

You’re in too deep now. Slowly, you nod and cup his faceplate in your warm hands, inching closer and closer, “Yes.”

You close the distance to his dermas, and he fucking growls. His grip on your ass is firm as he returns the kiss with the intensity of a firestorm, glossa pressing against your tongue in an act of dominance.

After gaining your full permission and miraculously without breaking the heated kiss, Optimus throws you onto the blanket-covered berth behind you, thanking Primus that he had organised the soft landing before your arrival. And also a bit suspicious that he had fully expected to seduce you to get into your pants or lack thereof; because Optimus had clawed at them before you even had the chance to break the kiss and catch your winded breath.

You’re entirely at his mercy, with nowhere to run as he cages your upper body with his gorgeously robust forearms. His optics glow in a tantalising turquoise as he rakes them down your body, hungry and lustful.

While he soaks in the sight of you below him, it gives you time to appreciate how damn handsome he truly is. The soft orange glow of the candles highlights every crevasse, every perfect imperfection that he somehow missed buffing himself out for you. He’s gorgeous, and the faint smile he gives you tells you that he damn well knows it.

Optimus flirtatiously laughs before leaning his helm down to press a tender kiss to your neck, ex-vents like a gentle breeze on your skin, “You have no idea how long I have yearned for this.”

Feeling his glossa pressing against your neck, you softly moan, lulling your head to the side for more access. You can feel him suckle slightly, and your breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut. He’s marking you, and you have no choice but to submit yourself to him.

Well, maybe you have some choice. You remember Optimus trying to flirt with you via a very raunchy pickup line, not having any idea what it even meant. This might be your opportunity to give him a hands-on experience; you just have to tug the breaks slightly on this dominant Optimus train.

“-hggff- Optimus,” You gasp out and reach up to gently push his chest away; removing him from your neck was like Velcro, “Wanna try out that… position I told you about?”

Optimus hitches his breath. Ever since you whispered those lewd words into his audial receptors, the thought of you lying atop him as he indulges in your heat for the first time while you do the same for him makes his spark flutter, “I will not lie. It’s been on my mind for quite some time… I suppose we could attempt it.”

The whole reason it’s been on his mind in the first place was that you were the one who planted that thought in his processor, and now you just realised exactly why Optimus had been acting like a love-struck puppy around you. He fucking researched it, and it got him majorly flustered.

Optimus digs his servos beneath your back to cradle you and flips himself over, with you now draped across him. You sit up and make work of stripping the remainder of the clothes Optimus hadn’t shredded, and when you rip your bra off, his servos instantly press against your chest.

“Mmmm, these are delightful,” Optimus purrs, digits kneading into your plump flesh, “So very soft…”

You bite back a moan before pulling his servo away from you, “I know, but let’s not get distracted, hm? You can play with them after.” You then maneuver yourself so you face first with his interfacing array, which you notice is already bowed out; your breasts squishing against his abdominal plating.

“I see you’re already excited; wanna show me?” You purr as you palm him, drawing delightful shivers from him. You kiss his groin, and he nearly bucks up into you in excitement.

Optimus doesn’t hesitate to expose him to you, groaning as his thick spike unsheathes itself from its housing. And you’re fucking drooling. It’s gorgeous, has a slight lean and is absolutely rock hard, staring right at you.

You’re not the only one drooling. Optimus’ optics are laser-focused on your dripping pussy; it entices him to dive right in. He moves his servos to grip your ass cheeks, massaging them gently.

“Primus, what a sight to behold.” He breathes out, and the warm air tickles your heat. He leans in, flattening his glossa to lick a thick line from your clit to your hole.

“F-Fuck…” You gasp out, leaning your hips into his intake more. The way Optimus is lapping at your folds is very distracting, and you almost forget that you’re supposed to be returning the favour.

You grab his spike, running your fingers up and down in tandem with his glossa. It’s softer than you thought, similar to the malleable protomass beneath his metal exterior, and you can’t wait to get your mouth around it. You stick your tongue out and lick from the base to the very tip, and you can feel Optimus groaning into your heat as you do.

Feeling confident, you wrap your lips around his tip and apply gentle suction. You swirl your tongue, lapping up the pre-cum already spilling down, and you moan at the taste. If you’re not careful, you might get addicted to it.

You can’t say the same for Optimus, who drinks you with a fervour akin to someone lost in the desert and has discovered water for the first time in weeks. He wraps his arms around your waist, forcing you almost entirely to sit on his face. His glossa delves into your hole, and you cry out around his spike.

You’re almost thrown off him when you do, the vibrations from your throat sending an electrical shock through his hips as he bucks into your mouth. He’s deepthroating you now, and you must be a snake of some kind because this shouldn’t be possible unless you’ve unhinged your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” He takes a breath, pressing kisses to your sensitive bud, “I can’t -aggh- help myself. Your intake is so tight.”

“Keep going, Optimus,” You pop your mouth off him, using one hand to stabilise yourself on him and the other to pump him feverishly, “I’m so close, f-fuck.”

As soon as those fluttery words leave your mouth, you’re straight back to sucking his spike with all the strength you have left. Optimus has also continued his assault on your clit. He swirls his glossa and wraps his dermas around it, and you’re fucking done. You cum on his glossa so hard it’s like an explosion on your nervous system, rocking your hips against him involuntarily.

Optimus pushes your hips further onto his intake and tightly grips your waist as his own overload overtakes his senses, the rush of cum flowing onto his glossa combined with your relentless sucking being just enough to send him over the edge.

He overloads right into your throat, and you’re determined to swallow every last drop. You push his spike past your gag reflex, tears filling your eyes as the rush of stickiness overflows into your cheeks and past your lips, dripping down his spike as it spasms against your tongue.

Once you feel he’s completely finished, you pull your mouth off and gulp. There’s so much you couldn’t, but you mentally pat yourself on the back for swallowing what you could.

Optimus releases his hold on your waist, allowing you to manoeuvre yourself so you’re facing him again. And holy fuck, seeing his face drenched in your fluids is almost enough to make you cum again.

He gives you a dopey smile and wraps his arms around your waist, “That undoubtedly exceeded my expectations. Should I try to seduce you again someday?”

“I don’t think you need to,” You breathlessly chuckle, “You’ve already got me hooked.”

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp optimus #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus x fem reader #tfp optimus x human reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

[cosmos-coma]

More Geralt content PLEASEE 😭

Something angsty with a happy ending maybe

Savior

A/N: I'm not really sure if this is the angst you had in mind but this idea has been bouncing around my head for a few days now.

Pairing: Geralt X Reader

Words: 767

Warning: blood and violence (canon level), unedited

___________________

Your mind was woozy and spinning around the dimly lit room. Your tongue tasted metallic and vile as blood coated your tongue. 

“I won't say anything…” You repeated, your head lolling forward as you tried desperately to focus on the face in front of you. 

A few weeks ago you had come into an extremely valuable journal belonging to a long-gone member of the school of the Bear. It detailed the entire process and materials on how to turn someone into a witcher. Everyone had thought that knowledge had disappeared along with most of the witchers after the sieges, but it seems that one had the wherewithal to write it all down beforehand. 

You knew that none of the wolves supported making any more witchers, their own childhoods being proof enough of how shitty it was, but you thought it best to have in case anything catastrophic were to happen.

“You’re a bad liar. I know you found it, I just need to know where you're keeping it hidden…” He wiped the blood from his knuckles and tightened the leather straps that held you affixed to the chair. “You’re making this far harder than it needs to be…”

“You’re making it harder than it needs to be..” you tried to throw back at him, but between your swollen black eye and the concussion you're 90% sure you had some of it came out slurred and directed about 6 inches too far to the left. 

“I think you’re all done here.” A new voice came, low and familiar, and as you forced your good eye fully open you saw the familiar flash of white hair and gold eyes. 

“Geralt…” you sighed in relief. As you looked over him you saw his stance rigid with pressurized anger and something dark in those Yellow cat eyes that stirred something deep inside you. 

You let your eyes close as your Witcher rushed towards your captor, the thuds of fists against flesh echoing about the small stone room. “Geralt..?” you called after a minute, once the noises all stopped. 

“I’ve got you now, bookworm… I knew we shouldn’t have brought that journal around in the open.” came his soothing voice not far from your face. The leather straps came away from your wrists and ankles and calloused fingers gently touched your cheek. 

Geralt gently touched your split lip and busted cheek, frowning when you winced away from his caring touch. They had done so much to you and all because he had left you alone despite his better judgment.

“Come on, I’ll get you back to the Inn and get you cleaned up, and then we can have a nice dinner on me, okay? They won’t bother you again...” His words melted into you like honey and made your body instantly soften and relax. His arms wrapped around your waist to keep you upright as you raised to your feet, slightly wobbly. 

Your eye peeked open as you walked out with Geralt, catching the bloody lump of flesh that was now curled up on the floor. They might not have been dead, but you're sure they wished they were. Serves them right. 

You didn’t register most of the trip back to the inn, but you did register the sweet gentle embrace of the bed as Geralt laid you back against the blankets. The room was quiet between the two of you as he took care of you with the gentlest touch you had ever felt from him. You just caught the small smile that crossed his face as you leaned into the cold cloth he held against your bruised eye. 

“I’m proud of you, you know…” He mused quietly.

“What for? I got taken and beaten like a rookie…” 

He laughed softly, “You forget you are a rookie, sweetheart,” he said only half sarcastically, “No. It’s because I saw the scratches and bruises on that guy that took you. You fought back well- we just have a few things to work on for next time.” 

You winced as your split lip stretched into a small smile, but you couldn't help the way your witcher lit you up. “You’re a big softie, Witcher… I globe you so much..” 

He snorted and shook his head as he brushed your hair out of your face. “ Did you mean ‘love’ perchance?” 

“You mean love…” you half laughed, half grumbled as you pulled his hand over your eyes to cover the aching light that shined in your eyes. 

“Okay, I think that’s the concussion talking, sweetheart. But I ‘globe’ you too.” He said with a ridiculous grin.

_______________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @dark-academia-slut @madamemelancholysstuff

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt imagine #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia x you #geralt fanfic #Geralt angst? #geralt fluff #geralt of rivia #tw3 geralt #or #netflix geralt #or book geralt but i havent read enough of him yet

[dreamersville]

heyyy boo🥹🩷 can you do like some hcs or drabbles on how the hashiras would come home to you sleeping at night after a long misson🙏🏾🙏🏾 like maybe they try to like slip in the bed and reader wakes up??...or not- whatever come to your beautiful mind really😩.

preferably with tengen, sanemi, and mitsuri 🤭

thank youuuu❤️❤️

an? im soooo soo sorry about mitsuri missing, the blanks i was drawing when i seen her name is really insane and thats why it took so long for this to come out ..but she still not in the post..ANYWAYS i hope this was to your liking my love💜 and again i am very sorry for the wait, request are open

pairings? tengen black reader, sanemi x black reader

tw? cursing, mention of a fall lmk if there is anything else

Tengen — walks in the kitchen/dining area where you were laying at a desk, head in your hands, in what looks like an uncomfortable position. Ink spots on your hands and now face. From the scattered paper on the desk and the numerous ink spots around the desk, he can conclude that you were writing him a letter, again. He walks up to you snorting as you shift to lay your head right next to some ink, quickly stepping in set on stopping your head from touching the ink spot. You nuzzle your face into his hand more chasing the warmth from it. He uses his other hand to brush your braids back from your head, taking a quick glance around the table to see where your bonnet is. Gathering the braids in his hand he maneuvers you better so he could wrap them in the bonnet. Wrapping your braids so that he could place your bonnet on your head, giving your forehead a kiss when he is finished. Makio is probably standing in the doorway watching the scene with soft eyes, a blanket thrown over her shoulder with the intention to place it around your shoulders. She comes over and gives you and tengen a kiss on the cheek, places the blanket over your body as you turn around to curve into tengens body. You always take it the hardest when tengens goes out on these long missions so your wives take it upon themselves to pay more attention to you to make sure that you are okay. Tengen knows this also so you're the first one he seeks out when coming home from a mission. It's in moments like these where he feels lucky to have all of you. You stir in your sleep mumbling about “why tf your gumbo taste like that?” girl- Tengen smiled to himself as he readjust his hold on you as he picks you talking to your yall room so that he could lay you down with the rest of his wives. You shuffle under the covers, scooting closer to Suma looking to replace the warmth you just lost. Tengen maneuvers everyone so that he is in the middle with two on his left and two on his right, extending his arms out so that he could embrace his wives all at once, relaxing once he's sure that you all are all here and accounted for. Releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding in, he hums as he is lulled into a gentle sleep.

Sanemi — comes in from a long mission with a jittering feeling under his skin. Although he's been on longer missions than this one this was the first time he was coming back to you. Discarding his shoes and most of his clothes at the door, he intends to go take a shower knowing how much you dislike “the smell of outside” whatever tf that is, but he wouldn't wanna be on your bad side when he just got back, so he is going to grumble his stinky ass through that good shower, coming out more relaxed than expected. Slightly rushing now that he finally finna be able to get you back in his arms. In his rush he trips over a shirt that you must have taken off before you got in the bed, in a haste to catch himself, he does some of move so that most of the impact from the fall is more so towards left side trying to be as quiet as possible. rolling onto his stomach, he sees your toes mere inches away from his face. You were just going to use the bathroom, you didn't expect to see sanmei there on the floor. Still in your half sleep state you step around sanemi and county on your way to the bathroom. It is only when you're washing your hands and feel the water on your feet that you realize somebody `had used the shower recently but who? It was only you here .. you slowly open the door and see your husband still on the floor, now the dots are starting to connect.. You chuckled to yourself then went and helped him up eager to get him bed now that you realized he was finally back. As you are making an attempt to try and help sanemi, he jumps up and stares at you, until you run into his arms knocking him a few feet back as he has to stumble to fall on his ass again. Sanemi it's time to for you to go back to sleep, but you wouldn't relinquish him from your hold on him so he turn the bathroom light off, leaving the mess of water to dry up and makes his way to your bedroom, maneuvering into the bed in a way that doesn't disturb you since you decided that you were going to go back to sleep now that you had your man in your arms, adjusting you and himself so that you were being big spooned by him. You were laying on right arm while his left was slowly stroking up and down your leg, allowing himself to hold you before he drifts off the dream land

once again hoped you enjoyed my lovee <33. request are open

#demon slayer #kny #tengen uzui #tengen x you #tengen x wives x reader #tengen fluff #tengen imagines #kny tengen #kimestu no yaiba #tengen x black reader #tengen x reader #master tengen #kimetsu tengen #demon slayer sanemi #kimetsu sanemi #sanemi x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi x reader #sanemi x black reader #sanemi kny #sanemi x you #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi drabble #sanemi fluff #sanemi headcanons #tengen smut #rengoku kyojuro #x black reader #black reader fluff #.demon slayer sleep talks 💤

[grapementos]

i don’t wanna break you

aged up kirishima x reader

cw: descriptions of blood, accidental injury, hospitals

night after night, kirishima was plagued with nightmares of the most horrigying, gut-wrenching situations that he was unfortunately familiar with.

the league, rappa, all for one--they invaded his mind and dreams, constantly chasing and drawing him into a corner. no matter how unbreakable he tried to be, no matter how rock solid his skin became, he lost each and every time. he was suffocated, backed into a wall as his worst enemies shrouded him in a darkness he knew all too well.

then, just as they attacked, he'd jolt awake in a cold sweat. frantically, he'd look around the room, controlled only by the overwhelming fear and need to survive. he'd scan the room, but he always found nothing. instead, he sat back against the headboard, his ragged, uneven breathing filling the room.

sleep was impossible afterward, so he started his day the moment he woke up. once he was fully grounded, he'd reluctantly crack open an energy drink and prepare for the fatigue he knew would hit him like a brick wall in the middle of the day.

-

you knew nothing of kirishima's nightmares, for you'd been on a vacation with some friends for two weeks. he'd never had trouble sleeping before--not with you, anyways.

it pained you to leave him for so long, but your friends insisted that you join them on an out-of-state trip to some resort they'd booked. kirishima had also encouraged you to go, so you did. it was a wonderful two weeks of relaxation, but you were so excited to see your beautiful boy pick you up from the airport.

once you exited the terminal and picked up your bags, you said goodbye to your friends and excitedly walked to the cellphone lot. you weaved through groups of people as your suitcase bumped over cracks in the sidewalk, antsy and excited to see your boyfriend.

you looked around excitedly as you reached your agreed-upon meet-up spot, waiting anxiously for kirishima. so many people were meeting up with family, friends, lovers--that was the beautiful thing about airports, you'd found. it was sad at times, but reunions and meet-ups were so wholesome.

your first instinct when someone grabbed your waist from behind was to jerk away, but when you turned to see kirishima, you grinned and hopped up into his arms, "ei! oh my gosh, i missed you so much."

you squeezed him tight, so, so tight.

"i missed you too, babe," he chuckled, his words a little strained as you all but crushed his ribs, "but you're gonna kill me."

"too bad. i just went an entire two weeks without you. you're not gonna get more than two inches away from me." you insisted, but finally dropped down to the ground.

all it took was an actual look at kirishima's face for you to realize that something was definitely wrong. his eyes were heavy and almost half-lidded, a dark shadow casting under them. his entire expression, albeit happy to see you, was exhausted.

"baby, what's wrong? you look so tired." you frowned, bringing up a hand to rub a thumb along his eye bags.

"it's nothing," he chuckled half-heartedly, "just don't sleep the same without you. you sayin' i don't look handsome or what?"

"you always look handsome. but," you snatched the keys from him, "not handsome enough to drive tired. we're laying down as soon as we get home."

he grabbed for the keys, "babe, you just got off a ten hour red-eye. you can't drive."

"i slept the entire ride, now get your handsome self into the passenger seat." you demanded, already walking to the car.

he knew it was futile to argue with you, so he did as you asked and settled into the passenger seat. the entire ride home, you had one hand on the wheel and the other tightly squeezing his hand. despite his deflection, you were pretty worried about him. he'd always slept like a rock, always energized from a full 8-hours worth of sleep.

it was no big deal, you hoped.

-

the moment the two of you were inside, you locked the door, left your suitcase in the living room, and dragged kirishima to the bedroom.

you didn't miss the energy drink cans in the kitchen trash, your worry only growing.

"now, we're not getting up until you're refreshed." you insisted, back to him as you changed into something more comfortable.

"m'not even that tired."

"you were dozing off in the car. quit trying to lie to me, ejirou." once changed, you nestled under the duvet next to him, scooting all the way up to him.

he draped an arm over you, scooting you impossibly closer. your face was level with his, your eyes meeting in a silent conversation of relief. relief that you were together again, relief that you didn't have to sleep separately.

"i missed you so much." he whispered, tracing shaped into your back, "i'm glad you had fun, but it made me think of how we're literally always together."

"i missed you too." you traced lines up and down his bicep, "i know. i'm not used to being away from you so long. we're never separated for more than hours at a time."

he hummed, "is that even healthy?"

"don't care."

"me neither."

the conversation halted there as you scooted down to rest your head against his chest, soothed by his familiar scent and his heartbeat and the cushiony muscle that you loved.

within minutes, the two of you were asleep, breathing steady as you finally felt able to sleep safely. no more hotel rooms, starchy hotel sheets, too-soft hotel pillows. just your kirishima, your bed, your sheets, and your pillows.

you drifted off, a series of dreams flurrying in your mind. they made sense as they occurred, but surely they wouldn't should you try to explain them consciously. you dreamed of the water and a flicker of a face you'd seen at the beach, of talking to members of a live band you'd seen, only their faces were warped into those of your friends, of the meals you'd eaten, only somehow you weren't strong enough to pick up the utensils--because no one's strong or fast in dreams.

suddenly, the dreams turned ugly. the band members--your friends--the people at the beach, the restaurant-goers, they turned against you. they cornered you and chased you until you had nowhere left to run. once they drew near, your abdomen was pierced, a red-hot stinging sensation flooding through your entire body.

your ears rang, but you weren't afraid--it was a dream, after all.

yet, the pain you felt was real, the drip of blood, everything felt so real.

the sensation of actual, realistic blood flow startled you awake.

your first thought was that you'd wet the bed, embarrassingly enough.

just as you moved to check, thousands of nerve endings were set ablaze with pain, making you hiss, "fuck!"

lightheadedness swamped your head, filling your throat with a thick layer of nausea, "ei--fuck--ei!"

your face, arms, torso, legs--everything was on fire. you choked out a pained cry, trying desperately to discover the source of your agony.

you picked up your head, suddenly mortified.

it was kirishima. he was hardened, almost to the point of his unbreakable form. in his sleep.

you had no idea what shape your body was in, but you could only assume the worst considering the pain, and the longer you touched him, the deeper your wounds grew.

"ejirou!" you cried, unable to shake him awake without another wave of excruciating pain rolling through you, "wake up! please, please wake up!"

his eyes snapped open at your cries, afraid, defensive, battle-ready.

he was shaking, breathing raggedy, further worsening your injuries.

the moment his eyes fell on your pained ones, his quirk fell, an indescribable mix of horror and realization dawning on him.

the moment he was away from you, you rolled onto your back, limbs like lead. you couldn't even lift your head to evaluate the damage; your head was far too fuzzy. your vision was darkening in the corners as you choked on tears and oxygen as you tried desperately to gulp in breaths, "911.. call.. 911.." you whispered as your vision completely faded back to black.

-

kirishima was covered in blood in the back of the ambulance. your blood.

it was a blur. he'd been purged with another dream, one so much worse than the rest, and he'd hurt you. he hurt you.

his eyes were unseeing as he sat in the triage room, the nurse asking questions about the circumstances of the accident. he answered like a zombie, only remembering the part where he recommended therapy or sleeping in separate beds.

that stung. he couldn't even be near you without hurting you.

he sat in your room once he was allowed in. they'd given you a blood transfusion because you'd lost almost two entire liters by the time you'd reached the hospital. luckily, you hadn't hemorrhaged, but they needed you to stay over night to keep an eye on embolisms and other concerns he couldn't stomach the possibility of.

as he slouched in the chair beside your bed, he knew what he had to do. as he saw the bandages all over your body, on your eye, your eye that they weren't sure would ever be 100% again, he knew.

-

waking up was painful. the confusion and pain hit you like a tidal wave, forcing a groan from the depths of your stomach, "my god."

you leaned your head back into the pillows propping you up, face scrunched in pain. you tried to muffle quiet grunts of pain, but your body was buzzing with an uncomfortable lick of fiery pain.

"oh, mx. y/n, you're awake."

you peeked an eye open to see a doctor with a clipboard and an extremely dull kirishima who couldn't even seem to look at you.

"what's happening?" you mumbled, suddenly acutely aware that your left eye was covered with a bandage of some sort.

"well," she started, glancing at kirishima, "you're in a hospital. you arrived here by ambulance after you sustained a multitude of abrasions, gashes, and wounds scattered across your body. you lost almost two liters, so we did have to perform a blood transfusion."

your heart rate picked up as you connected the dots, "my.."

"i'm afraid your eye has sustained significant damage. as of now, i am unsure if you will ever be able to fully see out of it again."

warm tears flooded down your cheeks, your chest rising and falling rapidly at the idea of being blind from one eye.

"i'm very sorry. i'll give the two of you some time and then we can further discuss a recovery plan." the doctor dismissed herself, closing the door behind her.

you finally dared yourself to look at kirishima, who was biting hard at his lip, presumably to keep himself from crying.

"are you okay?" you finally stammered out, vision blurred with tears at the news you just received.

"how can you even ask me that?" he asked incredulously, "didn't you hear what the doctor said? i could've k--" he choked out a sob, clamping a hand over his mouth. after drawing in a tight breath, he began again, "i could've killed you, and you're asking me if i'm okay."

"you didn't mean to, ei, you were sleeping." you reasoned, "and you didn't kill me, i'm okay."

"you're half blind, y/n!" he touched a hand to his forehead, walking up and down anxiously, "what if it happens again? what if my quirk goes off again because of some stupid bad dream and i accidentally kill you?"

"you've been having nightmares?"

he just stared at you, eyes wide and red and puffy and breaking your heart.

"we can't be together."

a beat of silence, only ended by the beep of the heart monitor.

"what?"

"i hurt you, y/n. i made you bleed, i ruined your eye. i'm," he stammered out, "i'm dangerous. i can't be with you, i can't hurt you."

"you're hurting me right now, ei, what the hell are you talking about?" you demanded, forcing yourself into a sitting position, "it was an accident, i know you'd never hurt me."

he shook his head, looking down at his hands, "i hurt you. i'm so sorry, y/n. we can't--we can't be together because i hurt you."

your tears weren't from your physical pain anymore, they were from the idea of having a life without kirishima in it.

"ei, please, please--" you reached a hand towards him, begging, "please, just listen to me."

he stopped his pacing, stopped his babbling, and looked at you.

"the idea of not being able to love you, to kiss you, to be with you, that hurts me more than anything. more than a million cuts, more than losing both my eyes, all my limbs, more than anything." you focused a steely, watery gaze on him, "so don't hurt me. we can move past this together. i'll be with you for everything, no matter what."

he processed your words, a crying mess, but shook his head, "i can't, i can't--"

"eijirou." you demanded, "you love me, right?"

he nodded slowly, bottom lip quivering, "more than anything."

"then stay. if you love me, stay."

"okay."

#my.archive.¥ #bnha #anime #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #angst #drabble #y/n #kirishima ejiro #kirishima ejirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima #kiri x reader #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima eijirou #ejiro kirishima #ejirou x reader #kirishima angst #grapeflop$

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 21 - My Fair Lady

📜 Merry Christmas, you filthy animals! 😏😂

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, mentions of an original child character, reunions, sexual themes (I mean smut, so get out of here if you ain't +18, I mean it!!!), they finally do it! (first times, nakedness, sex, all that jazz --> So yes, that is a spoiler!).

#10k words (this one is long, and I'm not apologizing for it, LOL)

Part 20 | Masterlist | Part 22

With Sadie away at camp, you finally got the time and the opportunity to surprise her and redo your guest room into her room.

The house was a mess. Boxes of new furniture waiting to be built: a desk, a bookcase, a new bedframe. Her mattress slanted against the hallway. Old white sheets covered every inch of the floor and things that could not be moved.

You'd taken the shade off one of the bedside table lamps and stuck it in the corner of the room, its soft, warm light guiding you as you stood on a ladder, carefully stroking a painter's brush covered in green paint just below the edge of the ceiling, balancing the paint bucket on the top step.

The problem you had with projects like these was that you didn't really know when to stop. Staring when it was still light out, nothing but music playing softly through the speakers from your vinyl player, it was well past 2 AM before you knew it.

At least this passion project was one of the few things keeping you from obsessively worrying about Jake. And Bradley.

The static noise popping through your speakers was a welcome relief for your neck. With one last paint stroke, you climbed down the ladder, picturing your records and what one you could put on next. You bit your lip, reaching up to grab the bucket and the lid from the top step, covering it and hitting it closed with a thump.

You knelt next to the crate, searching for the record you had in mind when a persistent knock at your front door startled you. You weren't expecting anyone, let alone in the witching hours of the early morning.

Everything that happened with Tyler left you weary. Every white car you passed on the street made your skin crawl, and when Penny finally re-opened the Hard Deck and you returned to work, each time the door swung open in a dramatic fashion, you half expected to see Tyler standing there, a predatory glare in his eyes.

People also had a habit of knocking on your door late at night to deliver bad news. But something told you you needed to answer it anyway.

You slowly tip-toed down your hallway, plastering yourself to the wall, hoping to stay out of sight of whoever knocked on your door before peering through the peephole. Shocked to see the person pacing back and forth along your front porch, you whipped the door open.

"Alyssa?"

She stopped pacing, twisting her body towards the sound of your voice.

As long as you knew her, Lyssa had never once cried in front of you or came close to being visibly upset. She was direct, used humour in the most inappropriate moments, and always played things close to the chest. To see her face, beat red and tears streaming down her face, you couldn't help your unease.

Something had to be seriously wrong.

"Is Will okay?" you asked her.  "What's' wrong?"

She shook her head, stepping in front of you. "Um, no, he's okay. We need to get down to Top Gun. Now."

"Top Gun? It's almost three in the morning."

She shook her head again. "Will's father got word an aircraft carrier got caught in a hurricane somewhere overseas. It sunk. They're bringing in the survivors now."

Heart dropping into your stomach, your legs wobbled. You fell against your door frame, hands gripping the wood tight enough to hurt. Your throat was screaming at you, and you couldn't swallow. 

There was only one other time you could compare to how you were feeling now.

Friday nights were the worst fucking days of your life.

"Please don't tell me..." you croaked. "Please don't tell me it was theirs."

You gripped Jake's dog tags tight as you caught her harsh gulp, her face remaining stark. She didn't say anything. Not that she needed to. The very fact she was on your doorstep told you everything you needed to know.

She wouldn't have come to get you otherwise.

"Come on, we need to go," she managed to say through a harsh swallow.

You don't know how you managed to loosen your grip on your door frame or how you laced your shoes without screwing up the knots. Or how you got your key in the lock with your shakey hand.

You don't know how you got into the passenger seat of Alyssa's car, either. Or how you managed to put your seat belt on or not throw up as she sped out of your driveway and down to the highway.

A small part of you whithers when you realize you wouldn't have known, wouldn't have been here, hadn't Alyssa's Ex caught wind of it. Nat, Bob, and the rest of the daggers would have, too, eventually, but they probably wouldn't have been informed until it was too late.

You don't even know what's waiting for you at Top Gun, whether both Jake and Bradley were or weren't there. Or only one of them. Or if they would even let you in.

The gates were open to the facility when the two of you arrived. Lyssa followed several cars that were already pulling into the winding entrance, the line starting to build as more and more started to appear from the opposite direction. You leaned forward in your seat as she pulled into the parking lot, your heart in your throat as you tried to see behind the building to the runway. All you saw were blinking red and white lights against the night sky.

Alyssa hadn't even moved the parking brake when you threw yourself out of her car, not bothering to wait for her. The cool night wind bit at your face as you searched the building, looking for any indication they were letting people in. You spied a group of people charging across the parking lot to an open side door, someone in dress kaki's manning it. You followed them, skidding across the pavement as you reached the door, trying not to run anyone over and barrel through the crowd.

Cyclone saw you before you saw him, shouting out your full name amongst the chaos to urge you to the front to let you in with the next group. The words spill out of your mouth before you realize you're saying them. "Do you know if...?"

He shook his head. "If they did, they'll be on the next plane that came in."

A million thoughts skitter through your mind, like spiders across a floor, yet you push them aside.

"I have a friend, Lyssa. Let her in next."

He nodded without complaint, knocking hard on the door to let the group in.

Whether it was the threat of being yelled at for running or that they were inside the famous Navy facility, nobody moved quicker than a brisque walk.

You'd take on any military officer who would dare yell at you for the way you tried to weave in and out of the throngs of people.

The hallway you were guided down led to a hanger. The space had been turned into a temporary relief centre, with tables, cots, and supplies filling every inch. Medics were already helping a few of the officers who looked worse for wear, and dread filled you each time you spun, another injured officer upon another.

You weren't sure you were relieved or scared with each face you saw. Whatever they had to go through to get here, one thing was for certain. They had to do so in a rush.

You halted when you spotted the large military-like plane Cyclone spoke about sitting on the runway in the distance, viewable from the wide open door. Whether it had been there before or it had just arrived, you didn't know. Nor did you question it any further. The only thing that mattered was if Jake and Bradley were on that plane.

But with each group of people that passed, there was no sign of them.

Alyssa finally caught up to you, grabbing your arms from behind and tugging you backwards. "Liz," she started to say, but you tore out of her grasp.

"We didn't have time. We didn't have time," you said repeatedly, threading your fingers through your hair next to your temples. Alyssa reached out again, this time turning you by your raised elbows as you continued to force yourself to breathe. She pushed, and you slowly lost your hold on your roots, lowering your arms until she was grasping at your hands.

"I didn't want to tell him I loved him over a letter. I didn't want our last words to each other to be over a piece of paper," you cried out, trying to tug away. She didn't let go, her grip tight. It made you sob harder.

"I can't go through this again! Not with them, not with him. Not after everything Sadie and I have ever suffered through. It's too much, Alyssa!" you were on the verge of screaming. "We've been through enough!"

Lyssa opened her mouth, words just barely sounding out before her eyes locked on to something behind you. She gasped, and you twisted sharply, watery eyes searching a new crowd of officers making their way off the tarmac and into the hanger. You squinted your eyes, the night sky and the bright white lights from inside making it harder to make out faces.

A cluster of Navy officers broke off from the crowd, parting the way.

Then you saw them.

Both of them.

Jake was favouring a leg as he leaned against Bradley for support, hobbling along as they finally reached the entrance to the hanger, searching for a temporary cot. Even at a distance, you could make out a cut framing his eye, and one side of his face was bruised.

But he was here. He was whole.

He was alive.

You couldn't help it. You charged forward, no feeling in your legs as you zoomed past other families and officers, probably a few high-ranking officials in your paint-smattered shirt and overalls. Time slowed down for you as you ran, even if you were running as if your life depended on it.

"JAKE!"

Jake lifted his head at the sound of your voice, urging Bradley to stop. Bradley looked at him funny, watching his eyes glaze over and wondering if Jake hit his head harder than the medics originally thought. But then he followed his gaze, only to see you charging forward without a care in the world to reach him, and he knew.

Bradley unhooked his arm from around Jake's shoulders, steadying him for a second and then letting go, stepping to the side so you could have your moment.

You slid along the floor as you came to a halt in front of Jake, worried he was more damaged than you could see, arms reaching for him. Jake bracketed his arms tightly around your back the second you touched him, and you buried your face into his shoulder. He grunted as he pulled you tight, shoving his nose into your collarbone.

Jake smelt of the sea, of gasoline and sweat. His flight suit felt ripped under your hands as you tried to find a grip. Or maybe you were trying to assure yourself he was really there. Your mind flashed through all the possible things he might have gone through with each caress, your cries getting louder with each one.

Yet in your panic, you pulled back from his hug, only to take his face into your hands and kiss him hard.

"I love you," you gasped out between kisses. "I'm not getting you go. I'm here. I love you, I love you, I love you."

Jake's response was instant, fingers quickly gripping the back of your neck, the roots of your hair, to drive your head at all the angles he wanted, all the ways that made it easier for him to devour you.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, pulling away from his lips with a tightness in your chest. Your eyes fell on his lips, red and slightly swollen, and you were positive yours were the same. Until you looked up at those green eyes and the rest of the hanger, everyone else, faded away.

Jake smiled at you.

"Hi, Darlin.'"

You huffed a sad laugh through your tears, letting yourself fall into his body, hiding your face in his chest, sobbing.

Jake didn't let the grip on your neck go, curving his hand against the skin, holding you to him. His other arm, at some point, had dropped down to your waist. Whether it was to keep himself upright or keep you from falling over, he wasn't sure. Nor did he really care. Because Jake was pressing his mouth into your hair and closing his eyes to relish the feel of you in his arms.

He was home.

You turned your head against his chest to look over at Bradley, slightly surprised to see him hugging Alyssa. Her forehead was leaning against her hands, currently shaped into a triangle against his chest. She was shaking with silent sobs as Bradley hugged her back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

The panic you felt before settles in your chest, warmth wrapping around your rib cage. As if he felt your eyes on him, Bradley opened his eyes, resting his cheek atop her head. You reached out, Bradley instantly extending his arm to grasp your hand. You smiled sadly at him with a fresh wave of tears in your eyes, squeezing his hand before burying your head back into Jake's chest, not once letting go.

Feeling you move against him, Jake lifted his head, catching your hand holding Bradley's. He found Bradley looking at the two of you with a smile, in a similar position, with Alyssa wrapped around him.

"Is there something you want to tell us, Rooster?" he said, eyes gesturing to Alyssa. You shook with silent laughter against his chest.

Bradley smiled at you, at Jake, before closing his eyes and letting his lips graze Alyssa's forehead. "Is that any way to speak to your saviour?"

There was no malice in Jake's words when he dropped his head back down to press a kiss into your hair, flippantly shooting back, "Don't push it, Bradshaw. I'm still ahead by one."

---

The ride home had been quiet.

After some harsh convincing by you and Alyssa, Jake and Bradley were allowed to leave. You had gotten the run down by one of the medical officers about Jake. He had no concussion and no broken bones but had ended up with quite a large amount of water in his lungs and a significant amount of bruising the days before.

You caught snippets of Rooster's conversation with the medics, enough to know what happened. You didn't want to know the deeper details unless Jake wanted to talk to you about it. Knowing he almost drowned and Bradley had saved him was enough.

He wasn't at risk of a secondary drowning, but more so pneumonia or an Edema. You'd be calling an ambulance at the first sign of a cough.

Bradley was helping Jake up the steps of your front porch as you went ahead and unlocked your door. Lyssa spotted Jake from below, hands out and ready. Despite her tiny frame, she was there, ready to catch him should he need help.

You were quietly surprised to see Bradley being the one to help Jake. You knew it wouldn't have been easy for either of them: Jake, who didn't want to need to accept the help at all, and Bradley, for whom he was helping.

But once Jake cleared the last step and straightened himself, he patted Bradley on the shoulder, murmuring a 'Thanks, Rooster' before limping over to you.

You looked up at him with a smile, cocking the side of your head in Bradley's direction before saying, "I'll meet you inside?"

Jake nodded, then nodded once to Rooster before continuing inside. Lyssa had walked off back to her car around the same time, leaving only you and Bradley standing alone on your porch. You pulled him into a hug.

"Thank you, Bradley. For saving his life."

Rooster stiffened at your touch but slowly relaxed, arms coming up to wrap around your back. "I know it's not worth much, but I'm truly sorry Lizzie," he murmured. "For all of it."

You shook your head against his shoulder, murmuring a low "Don't," but Bradley pressed on.

"I've been an ass since the start. I've been the one doing all the things I said Jake would do," he said next to your ear, refusing to let you go. "I think I was more worried about being replaced.. and everything else... I just didn't want to see you and the bug getting hurt. The rule was to put Sadie first. Instead, I was the one doing all that. He really does care about the two of you despite some of his faults."

You pulled back from the hug but still left your hand on his shoulder, wiping at your eyes. "Can I ask what made you change your mind?"

Bradley gave a fond look, and you could only stare at him for a second before a smile shot across your face. "Sadie?"

You had wondered what she had scribbled in that letter. She was shifty about it, too, refusing to let you see anything anytime you walked by.

Something told you you'd never know.

Rooster grinned. "Yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Her and the fact, this one saved me yet again. Then gave me a heart attack."

You smiled, looking back at your open door. "I'd like to think he was giving you the chance to make it up to us."

Bradley dropped his chin to his chest, still smiling, before he looked over to Alyssa, leaning against the driver's side of her car.

"Call me if you need help?" he offered, stepping forward to place a hand on your forearm before turning to proceed down your front steps.

"I think we'll be okay," you replied softly, not really caring if he heard you, still staring at your front door.

--- 

 The tension inside the house hit you like a wave the second you closed the door. It was just Jake and you now, and despite everything that transpired the past few hours, you felt nervous. 

Looking down, you spied Jake's boots neatly lined up next to some of yours, making you wonder how he managed to get them off. It made you undo your laces slowly, tactically, as if to stall time. 

Something about standing here made everything more real. 

There was also the bit about you sending him that partial nude. And that letter - which you weren't as concerned about. But that damn photo, all inspired by a moment of brevity, had you yelling to yourself, what the hell did I just do? when you dropped it off at Penny's.

You couldn't worry about the shame currently building in the pit of your stomach. You had to press on.

Jake was hurt. He needed you. 

“Jake?” you called out softly, not expecting to find him hunched over, leaning against the wall of your hallway, facing you. You held out your hands, ready to grab him and support him. That was until he sharply lifted his head, eyes the only thing you could truly make out in the dim lighting, the dawn just peeking through your windows. You froze, lowering them, your voice stuck in your throat. Those eyes were challenging you to move, daring you to escape, to make a sound in the dead silence that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. With the predatory glint in his eyes, you knew right away what he wanted to talk about. 

Yet, Jake is the one to break the silence first.

"Where's Sadie?"

"Camp."

You feel like you've just given him the green light for something with those words. He seemed to know it, too.

"What can I do to help you?" the question comes out more quietly than you were anticipating.

Jake straightens himself with a groan but doesn't remove his eyes from you. On the contrary, they are still sharp and as intense as when he first saw you.

"Liz," he spoke lowly. 

He takes a step forward. You take one back. 

"I think you know the answer to that." 

"Do I?" you breathe out, taking another step, and he stalks forward as much as he is able. 

He nods once. "I got your letter. And your photo."

Your back hits the wall - you can go no further. 

It's not as if you couldn't escape him or tell him to stop. Jake is pinning you with his eyes as he approaches you and cages you against the wall. You know if you told him to stop, that all this was too much, he'd back away. 

You don't want him to, though. 

"Darlin," he roughs out, a hand reaching for your hip, his mouth next to your ear. "I've thought of nothing else."

Your trembling, heaving though no sound is coming out. You knew Jake was tall, muscled, and built like a freaking horse. It's stupid how the thought crosses your mind once again. You feel small against him, pressed up against the wall. 

"I take it you liked it?" 

You have no idea where this courage is coming from. 

"Liked it?" he pressed a kiss on your neck below your ear. "I got hard just looking at it." 

You title your head back against the wall; eyes closed, an arm coming up to wrap around his neck as Jake continues to press small kisses into your skin, slowly starting to add his teeth. An arm shoots around your waist, tugging you into him, and you gasp, racking up the wall with the movement. 

"Jake," you gasped to the ceiling, digging your fingers into his hair. He winced against your neck with a groan, pausing. You wondered if you had accidentally injured him more. Because as much as Jake was desperately trying to merge himself into your skin, as much as he was trying to show you just how much he loved you, how much he wanted you, he was utterly exhausted.

And he was hurt.

"There's nothing more I want than to be with you right now," you said calmly, stroking the hair at the back of his neck, sobering the moment. "But you're exhausted. And hurt, Jake. When was the last time you slept? "

Jake sighed into your neck, weight sagging with him, "Only a few minutes on the flight home. Not sure when before that."

It was true. Bradley had managed to resurface with him strung across his back, carrying Jake the rest of the way up that stairwell. His memory was fractured into bits and pieces of moments when he opened his eyes. Him being carried on a stretcher, Rooster sitting next to him in a med tent, voices yelling, and people poking and prodding at him. The flight home was when he really started to get his memory back, but he didn't dare fall back asleep, wondering if it had all been a dream and he really did die back there.

You frowned. "Let me take care of you, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

Pressing a long kiss on his cheek, you carefully untangled yourself from his hold, sliding down the wall. Hooking your arm around his waist, you led him down your hall to your bathroom. Jake's grip on your body was anchored tight. Hand threaded through the opposite pocket of your overalls, a part of him always touching you.

Leaving him to lean against your bathroom counter, you spun to turn on the shower, ensuring the water was okay before coming to stand in front of him once more. Resting your hands on his chest, you toyed with the zipper of his damaged flight suit.

"Do you need help?" you asked him softly.

He knew he could manage without you, even with his back being out of sorts. Yet, he still softly replied, "Go ahead."

You ranked your eyes over the fabric as you pulled down the tab of his zipper. His suit was ripped in some places, and large chunks were torn out, revealing the black tank he was wearing underneath. The zippers of the side pockets were misaligned, and while both of his patches were still intact, the threads were sticking out around the borders, making them unusable.

You made a note in the back of your mind to steal them the second you could.

Once the zipper reached the end, you moved both of your hands down to his chest, taking both sides and pushing the fabric off his shoulders.

Yet you stilled when you felt something hard in one of the pockets, instantly unfolding the fabric and unzipping the pocket, Jake watching you with hooded eyes. You pulled out a water-tight bag, gasping when you saw your letter and the various polaroids through the clear material.

"You.. You saved them?"

Jake let go of your hips to shrug the piece of clothing off, freeing his arms. He placed one hand on your hip, the other taking the bag from you, holding them.

"Why wouldn't I?" Jake's voice was quiet.

You felt a lump in your throat, tracing the bag in his hands. You were curious to know which one is the cockpit photo, but you also know your spontaneous, risky shot is also in with them. It's not that you didn't regret it, nor did Jake's enthusiastic reaction deter you, but you still felt that little bit of shame and embarrassment knowing the physical proof still existed.

"I... I didn't think they would mean that much to you. It was just a thing Sadie and I did so you wouldn't feel left out," you admitted, feeling vulnerable.

"They were all I had of you and Sadie out there."

It guts you, the simplicity of such a statement, yet packed with so much meaning.

Jake placed the bag behind him on the counter, ready to resume his grip on your body. Except his eyes caught sight of the pieces of metal dangling over the front of your chest, and he reached out to take his Dog Tags into the palm of his hand.

"You're wearing them."

You followed the chain to stare at the two pieces of metal. Your reply was soft, "I rarely took them off."

He didn't need to know about your breakdown. Not yet. You had said enough in your letter for him to know you had done what you needed to do, but he didn't need to know about the events that led up to it.

That was a conversation for another day.

Jake sighed, letting them drop back down in between the two of you, hand curving around your hip and pressing his forehead to yours. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds until you felt him fiddling with the clasp on your hip, never fully releasing it from its hold.

He didn't need to voice it for you to know the question behind the action. It was clear as day as to what he was asking of you.

Will you join me?

Remember all those times over the past year you told yourself to fuck it? This was definitely getting added to all those other times.

Because you found yourself reaching down to your side and finishing the job, releasing the button from his hold. You felt Jake's breath against your mouth, warm and wet, as he slid his hand up to one of the front clasps, popping the buttons out of the hooks as he tugged, repeating the process with the other.

The two straps fell down your back, and you held your arms up in a silent invitation. Jake seemed to hold his breath as he pulled at your battered shirt, up over your head, to reveal your bare breasts.

He tossed your shirt to the side in the general direction of your laundry basket, but you didn't take your eyes off his to find out if it hit its mark. You feel no shame as he dropped his gaze. He's seen them before, kissed them, touched them. But the way his eyes rake over them makes it seem like it's the first time he has.

But when you reach for his black tank, pulling at the hem to work it over his body, you catch the view of his back in your mirror and let out a terrifying gasp.

His back is one big purple bruise, marring his skin. It spread from the curve of his right shoulder blade, sinking its way across his spine and ending near his hip. The only comparison you could draw to it was a painter's palette of cool colours mixed in with black. Whatever he had hit, it was clear the impact had been severe.

"Jake," you cry out, stepping to the side so you can turn him and see the damage for yourself, not in some reflection.

"How bad is it? The medics told me it's there."

"It's not pretty." 

It was the most accurate statement you could give him without wanting to double or even triple-check the work of the medics on him. He let you investigate the bruised skin for a few seconds more before moving out of your grasp and facing you. 

"Come on," he uttered. "Let's get under the water." 

You quickly removed the rest of your clothing, letting the rest of your overalls and underwear fall to the floor, using your toes to work off your socks. Jake managed to get the remainder of his flight suit off with little struggle, boxers included. 

You weren't ashamed of your body. But you were a little apprehensive, letting Jake see everything in its entirety. It makes you step into the shower first, almost as if you were trying to run away. 

All this is new to you. And the internal battle currently raging on in your head was making you hesitant. Because even standing here, naked in your shower, Jake's eyes ranking over you like you were his last meal from behind the glass door, you still fought with yourself not to look at him.

But let's be real. You were a virgin, new to all of this.

You definitely looked.

And tried to mute the squeal that was trying to crawl its way out of your throat as you turned to let the running water hit your face. You could hear Jake's warm chuckle from behind you as he stepped into the boxed space.

"Like what you see?" he spoke lowly into your ear, dragging your back to rest against his front by your elbows.

"I'm not going to answer that question. 'Cause we both know if I do, it's going to lead to something."

You could feel all his ridges and sharply defined muscles against your back, and it took you everything not to mould yourself into him. Jake pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then another to your neck, before resting his cheek against yours. "And what would that be?"

"Jake..." you warned, your voice slightly shakey.

"Not tonight," he replied, dragging his hands up your arms. "I just wanted to see how far that blush of yours goes."

"Oh, you kinky.." but he didn't let you finish, catching your mouth in an opened-mouth kiss. You moaned, tilting your head back before turning to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You released his lips to glaze up into his eyes, taking the moment to assure yourself yet again he was here with you. You matched his soft smile before he zoned in on your cheek, reaching up to thumb the skin. His face was hardened in concentration, no doubt rubbing at a stroke of paint you'd accidentally marked yourself with, working to get it off. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his wrist.

"What's this from?"

"I'm painting Sadie's room, trying to make it more hers as a Birthday gift."  

Jake hummed. 

The two of you continued to shower together, you mostly helping Jake. You tried not to get too caught up in staring at him, biting your lip in concretion as you rubbed body wash over him. You felt his eyes on your face the entire time, and you tried to resist the urge to lean up and kiss him. 

Jake made you spin around to face the showerhead to return the favour. Feeling his hands caress your skin, letting him work the soap under the swells of your breast, along your arms, even down the panel of your stomach, you had to fight the arousal pooling in between your legs. 

Not to mention, you could feel him growing hard and heavy against your lower back. 

"This isn't fair. I'm the one who's supposed to be taking care of you," you murmured, leaning your head back against his shoulder.  

He pressed a delicate kiss to your collarbone. "This is taking care of me." 

You ended up getting out first, picking up each of your discarded clothing, throwing them in the basket, and reaching for the towels you kept on the makeshift shelf on your wall as Jake finished with his hair. You saw the frown on his face when he stepped out, and you rolled your eyes affectionately at him, handing him a towel.

Helping him to your room, you left him to sit on the corner of your bed. You rummaged through your top drawer, pulling out the pair of his boxers you had accidentally missed when you packed up his bag. You found them on the day you were getting things ready to visit Ridley.

He took them without a word while you pulled on your sleep shirt and underwear, ironically the same baggy nightshirt you wore the night of that damn thunderstorm where he kissed you.

Climbing into your bed, you held up your comforter as an invitation. He fell face-first into your chest with an aching groan, grabbing your sides to pull himself half on top of you, his head finding a home in the crook of your neck.

Your suspicions from before are finally confirmed. Because even as he held you, Jake was desperately fighting sleep.

Pressing a delicate kiss to the cut on his cheek, you grazed your lips up until you could press them just below his hairline, your fingers threading themselves soothingly through his hair.

"Go to sleep," you whispered into his forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up."

---

You slowly awoke to the sensation of lips delicately pressing soft kisses into your forehead and fingers stroking along the back of your arm, the occasional touch of warm metal accompanying the touch. You mewled, curling yourself deep into the apex of his shoulder, lulled by sleep.

"I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

You pressed a sleepy kiss to his bare chest. "I should be awake. I'd sleep the day away like this if I could."

Jake hummed, resuming his gentle caresses. He had raked down your sleep shirt along your back, fingers now dragging up and down your spine, getting lower and lower each time he did it, causing you to shiver.

"I had a dream like this. While I was away on the carrier," he spoke, pressing another kiss to your temple. "At the ranch in Texas. In my room above the barn."

"Tell me?" you yawned, still half asleep, warm and content.

Jake nosed into your cheek, trailing it over your skin as he spoke, "The two of us. In my bed. Naked."

You shook silently with laughter, turning your head back against his arm. "Of course you did."

You would have seen Jake smiling down at you had you decided to open your eyes.

"I'd dream I woke up with your back to me, sheets resting low on the curve of your back." He slid the back of his fingers across your exposed shoulder, getting lost in the image in his head. "The barn door was open, catching the first rays of sunlight in your hair. There must have been a storm cause the grass was so green, everything was so right."

You leaned away from his chest, resting your head further back on his arm to peer up at his face. Jake's hair is dishevelled, his eyes harbouring the remnants of sleep, worn and puffy. His bruise had already begun to yellow, and his cut didn't appear red or as swollen. Yet, looking up at him from within the safety of his arms, huddled against his massive chest, you find yourself wishing you could control the way air catches in your throat.

"Sounds perfect."

Jake smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you. You moan in protest, turning your head away and barely managing an "I have morning breath" to Jake as his lips land on your cheek.

"I don't care," he rasped into your ear. You turned your head back, and he placed his mouth on yours.

You give as much as he is giving you, letting Jake caress your tongue with his, letting him take and take at his pleasure, until he is releasing your mouth and mouthing across your cheek.

He’s taking his time with you, something so different from the previous times you've found yourself against or under him, at the mercy of his mouth and hands. There's hesitation in his movements, wary of making any sudden, intense movements that might have you bolt. 

"You're taking your time," you say aloud, carting your fingers through his hair. Jake laps gently at the corner of your neck, hand stroking down the side of your leg. He pulls back to stare at your face, you meeting his gaze.

"I almost didn't have time."

God, you know how true that statement is. And the fact, the Jake who left you standing at the end of your driveway all those weeks ago wasn't the exact same one who returned to you. 

Jake travels down the length of your body, and you let him push up your oversized shirt, revealing your breasts. "Hello, girls," he grinned, pressing a single kiss to each breast. "Oh, how I've missed you."

It makes you laugh, carting your fingers through his hair, messing it up even further. You can feel him smile against your skin. But then he is trailing his nose down your core, down your stomach, lightly grazing your skin with his lips as he goes. You watch him with careful eyes, your breath picking up quickly.

You know his intentions, where this is going, what it would evidently end up being. And you’re okay with that. You trust him, and you love him. There wasn’t anyone else you could imagine having your first time with. 

Working himself down to the end of your bed, Jake’s face hovers over your underwear, his eyes searching yours. You nod, reaching down to help him remove them, Jake flinging them behind his head in a dramatic fashion, making you laugh once again.

Until he’s lining up kisses down the inside of your thigh, stopping when he’s just that close to your core. And then he looks up once again. You can hardly see any green in his eyes, just a thin strip on the edge of being overtaken by black.

“Can I put my mouth on you?”

What do you do but stutter an embarrassing reply of, “If you want to.” 

Jake wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want to. You knew that. He even chuckles at your answer teasingly.

“You’re going to have to keep these open if I do,” he says, tapping the back of your thigh. “I’m not going to nearly perish a second time, though what a hell of a way to go.” 

You huff in amusement, tinting your head back against your pillow only to drop your chin to your chest, looking at him between your legs.

“Just be gentle with me, Jake. I’m not…” 

Experienced is the word you leave out, but you know Jake understands you. He always seemed to when it comes to you.

He places both of your legs on his shoulders before reaching up to thread his fingers through yours at your side. He barely has time to punch out the words, “Tell me to stop if it’s too much,” before his nose is parting your folds and he’s swiping his tongue up and down your cunt repeatedly. 

You pull against his hold on your hands at the feeling, wailing and then biting your lip to quiet yourself, muffling your sounds.

Jake lets go of one of your hands to thumb your bottom lip, removing it from your teeth. He lifts his head and says in one breath, “Sadie’s not here, Liz. Let me hear you moan for me.”

And then he’s sucking on your clit, and you can’t hold it in any longer. The noise you let out is practically a scream, and the vibrations from Jake’s moan against your cunt push you that much further. Cause the fact he mentioned her name while headfirst deep between your legs is filthy. 

And the sounds that follow, echoing around your bedroom, are raunchy.  The night Jake kissed you in your hallway, your worries about Sadie hearing both of you come to mind. Because thank God she wasn’t here, or else she’d think Jake was murdering you.

You’d have to work on being quiet if you ever wanted to do this again with Jake once she came back home. 

You felt hot with your shirt racked up around the top of your breasts, gripping the hem to rip it over your head, your back leaping off the bed as far as it could go. Jake glances up, still working his mouth against your cunt to watch, the only remaining piece on your body is his tags.

You buck into his mouth, having no control over your body as he just sucks and sucks and sucks, your grip on his hand getting tighter and tighter, and you’re gripping your comforter to the point your hand throbs from the force. Cause everything burns and feels so good and yet so bad, and you cry to whatever part of you decided you needed to wait to experience this.

But in the back of your head, you know nobody could make you feel the way Jake was making you feel now.

Something snaps, hard, your muscles pulling tant and the cry blaring out into the ceiling of your bedroom is anything but salacious.  And Jake's voice is muffled when he works you through it, chanting, “Good girl, that’s my good girl,” over and over as you chant your hips to chase the feeling.

You are a shaking mess when Jake finally lets go, and slides back up your body, letting his weight settle against your chest, arms threading themselves under your shoulders.

"Was that okay?" 

You don't even have the words to describe how you are feeling. Your eyes are wide, staring up at him, wondering why the hell he'd be asking such a question when he caused you to be in such a state. 

Instead, you lurch up and kiss him hard, your hands gripping the middle of his back, sliding down to slip under the fabric of his boxers. Jake jolts when he feels your hands cupping his ass. 

"Are you sure, darlin'?" he pants, pulling away from you. "Are you sure you want this? With me?"

This was Jake. He wouldn't have you without your consent.

"I only want you."

It's slightly cheesy. But there was no other way you could put it. You couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else. But he challenges you again, asking, "Are you sure you want it to be me?" 

You wanted to smack him for his sheer idiocy right now, bringing up his shitty perception of his self-worth. But you don't want to ruin the mood, and you know where it's coming from deep down. It has nothing to do with you. 

"I do," you say instead, rubbing your nose against his. "I just don't know how to make you feel good, though."

"It's not about me right now."

Except it was. It was about both of you.

"Get on top of me."

The both of you rolled, Jake grabbing your hips as you landed on top of him. You sat up, placing your hands on his chest. The action had you rocking yourself back onto his clothed cock, and Jake let out a moan, hands tightening on your waist to push and pull with your movements.

Leaning down to kiss him once, you followed his jawline, reaching his ear. "You want to know something?" you asked, suddenly emboldened.

"What?" he gasped, nails biting into your skin.

"I've been dying to do this since the first time I saw you on the beach."

You felt the pinch of his nails as you kissed down his neck, making sure to catch a patch of skin between your teeth softly. You continued down his chest until you finally got to your desired place.

The divet.

The perfectly sculpted yet slightly crooked valley that split the entire length of his chest in half. You had a brief moment of panic, a stutter in your heartbeat, when you realized just how forward you, the freaking virgin, were being. Hell, you didn't even know if you were doing any of this right.

All you knew, you had waited long enough.

Spread out beneath you, Jake's body is spread out for you like a personalized meal. You pressed a kiss into his skin first before letting your tongue press deep into that valley and swirl all sorts of patterns across his skin. His eyes nearly bugled out of his head before Jake groaned, chest puffing out and hand fisting into your hair. 

You work your way up, getting ready to take one of his nipples into your mouth, when Jake suddenly shouts and lets out a fevered, "Stop." 

You reel back in shock, scared you overstepped. But Jake only tugged you up by your hips, using you as a counterweight to pull himself to sit against your headboard with a painful groan. He settled you directly against his pelvis, where you can feel just how hard he is through his boxers.

He grips the back of your neck hard and slams his lips into yours. You whimper into the kiss, worried he's using it as a tactic to let you down gently. When he finally releases your lips, you burst out, "I'm sorry, I overstepped. I shouldn't have.." 

Jake grips your throat, thumb resting just barely on your Adam's apple, enough to know it's there. You can feel it with each hard sallow you take, his hand big enough to encompass the entire length and width of your neck. 

"Don't ever apologize for that," he states firmly. "I'm yours to do with what you will. And trust me when I say there is a lot more you can do to me than just a simple kiss on the chest." 

And there's the blush. 

"I told you I'd corrupt your innocent little soul," he smirks, pulling you to his mouth once again.  

The next few moments are filled with long, passionate kisses and heavy touches until Jake is reaching for the hem of his boxers, and you find yourself helping him pull them down, him kicking them off in some unknown direction. 

Unlike this morning, there's no hesitation when you take him in, his cock hard and standing to attention. You regret your reaction to the comment you made about his helmet last year. Cause there was truth behind that one missing letter. 

Jake reaches for you, helping to position you over him before he suddenly freezes.  "Shit," he gasped, pushing you to sit on his thighs. "We don't have anything."

You ducked your head shyly. "We don't need one if you're okay without one. I... I'm on the pill."

"You're on the pill?"

You know what he means behind the question instantly.

"Two months before Penny asked me back. Other reasons, though. Not that I was expecting to get laid at any point in time," you answer him quietly, lifting your head. "You know me, Jake. I don't do one-night stands. I never have."

Jake relaxed under your hold, a small part of him sighing in relief.

"Worried I moved on?" you ask him softly, stroking your finger across his brow.

"You had every right to," he's almost ashamed to admit. You shook your head. "When are you going to get it through that stubborn head of yours that you are worth it, Jake? I love you. I'm not going anywhere."

Jake sighed again, dropping his forehead to your collarbone.

"Besides, you painted a pretty picture in the flatbed of your truck," you tease, quickly reciting the words he had rasped into your ear when his fingers were almost knuckle deep in your cunt. You drop your head forward and whisper into his ear, "The day I can have you gripping my cock?"

Jake growled at your words, reaching for your thigh to properly position you over him. Straddling his waist, you rest on your knees. Jake grabbed his cock, angling it just so as to rub the tip against your cunt slowly. You weren't sure whether he was teasing you or getting you used to a feeling.

Maybe it was a bit of both.

Then his tip caught at your entrance, and you let out a whimper. 

He stops, not doing anything else except letting go of himself to latch onto your other hip. Tilting his head, he places a kiss on the underside of your jaw, breathing in deep.

You understand why Jake had you move on top of him for this. He was letting you control the pace and do what only felt comfortable to you. It warms your heart, even if it is on the verge of jumping out of your chest.

"Take your time, darlin," he encouraged you softly, mouthing at the skin under your collarbone. "I'm here whenever you are ready. And we can stop at any point."

You took a deep breath, finally finding the courage to press yourself down onto him.

Something between a whine and a gasp escaped your lips as you felt the tip of his cock enter you. You had no previous experience to compare this to, but you were sure you weren't supposed to feel this stretched out. Or this full. 

You got about halfway down before you cried out, sightly in pain. Jake's grip tightened on your leg and hip, muscles flexing as he halted you. You're slick, but it's a tight fit. And his breath was just as ragged as yours.

 Sliding the hand that was griping your hip up your back, Jake encompasses the nape of your neck in his hand, tiling your head down so he could take your mouth into an open kiss.

"Jake," you whimpered into his mouth, your nails digging hard into his shoulder. Jake kept a tight rein on his control, but it was a battle he was struggling with. You just felt too good around him.

"Such a good girl for me," he cooed. "Taking my cock." 

"I don't know if I can go any further," you whimper. But Jake is quick to reply, "We don't have to, not if you don't want to. But you're almost there, just a little bit more." 

"Fuck," you whined, tearing yourself away from his mouth to bury your face into his shoulder.  His hand tightened against the nape of your neck, fingers tangling themselves into the roots of your hair. The grip is reassuring and grounding, and you take several deep breaths before you press down once again.

Then, just when you think you can't take anymore, he bottoms out, his hips pressed tightly into yours. 

That's it. You were a virgin no longer. 

And suddenly, with that thought, you felt nervous. Because, of all things, that damn fucking sign in the girl's bathroom of the Hard Deck flashes in your mind.

Jake is experienced. You're not. It was one thing for him to say he didn't mind you were a virgin, but it was something else for him to be the one to change that status. Because every story you've ever read about how men would compare their previous partners to their current one eats away at you.

There was no way you would stack up to the long list of women Jake had bedded, for lack of a better word. But Jake only nuzzled the valley between your breasts, tongue delicately tracing the underside of one while rubbing soothingly down the curve of your spine.

"Perfect," he murmured softly. You can't help yourself when your next words come out more anxiously than teasingly. "Live up to your imagination?"

If Jake caught on, he didn't let you know.

"Better," he groaned. "I don't care if we do anything else. I'm perfectly content to be like this the rest of the day."

He twitches inside you, and you gasp, dropping your mouth to rest against the top of his head. You know what he is doing. He's letting you adjust, letting the pain subside, assuring your anxious thoughts.

"Like this? Me, wrapped around your cock, barely moving," You manage to pant, and he hums against your chest. "What if we have company? Rooster tends to show up unannounced."

"He better not," his growl vibrates off your skin, hand flexing on your thigh in an effort not to thrust. "He should know better than to show up at your door when he knows damn well what we're getting up to."

Jake titles his head to set his teeth into your collarbone in a warning, making you clench involuntarily and whimper. He snarls into your neck, "Don't mention him when I'm inside you. This is not going to end badly, not for your first time."

The heat laced in his voice did nothing to stop the small chuckle that racked your chest. Your muscles pull tight across your stomach, and you choke, "Are you trying to make me combust?"

"Is it working?" 

Jake doesn't move. Not at first. Not until you decide to test the waters and flex your hips once, rocking yourself on his cock ever so slightly. 

Your mouth is resting open against his forehead, and your nails are biting into his shoulders as you moan, letting the first thumps of pain, turn into pleasure. He's tense under you, Jake, using every ounce of willpower not to thrust himself hard up into you to match your rocks. He wants to take this slow. He wants you to enjoy this, no matter how badly he wants to feel you clench around him.

Instead, he rasps into your breast, “Feel good?” 

Why is he so obsessed with asking you questions?

You’re unsure if your noise is intelligible, but you try to force out an affirmative hum. Then he hits the back of your cervix, making you howl and curl into him.  

It must have been the sound you let out because Jake growls. Gripping the flesh of your butt tightly, he flipped the both of you. You weren't expecting him to, not with how beaten up he was. The movement of your back hitting the bed caused him to hit something deep inside you, causing you to cry out and grip the planes of his shoulders, nails biting hard and uncaring if you happened to touch his bruise.

The slow movement of you rocking on him was nothing compared to the way he started to thrust in earnest. 

"You have no idea how much I've wanted you," he panted, increasing his pace. "The day I saw you at the Hard Deck when you were dancing in your kitchen. The clean fucking slate."

You whimper at the growl he spun on the word fucking, adding to the heat already spreading across your body. Even with the pleasure he’s bestowing across your body, you know this must be somewhat painful for him.

"Jake.." you gasped. "Your back."

"Fuck my back," he grunted, angling his hips in an urgent thrust. It made you tilt your head back into your pillow, your head almost hitting your headboard, your nails biting into his back, letting out a heated cry. Jake went for your neck, teeth, and lips, pressing hard to your pulse point.

"I don't care if I fucking break it," he growled out. "I'm not stopping until you cum for me." 

A particular thrust caused you to turn your head, and Jake sunk his teeth into your neck. You lifted your leg, wrapping it around Jake's waist. The angle of this next thrust changed, and you whimpered loudly, tears leaking down the sides of your face as Jake lurched over you with a desperate groan.

It has you wrapping your other leg around his waist, your hips slanted downwards, his cock pounding you at a new angle.

His hand, supporting himself on the bed next to you, shot out to grip your bedframe. Alternating between deep thrusts and shallow teases, Jake watched you underneath him. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your eyes fighting to stay open, and dog tags - his dog tags - jangling against your stomach.

 He almost didn’t have this, the stark realization haunting him. He had literally been a breath away from never seeing you again, never feeling your warmth or hearing your cries of pleasure or even your laughter. He would take any chance, any glance, anything to assure him you were real. And that you were his.

His back spasmed, and he fell on top of you, saving himself from crushing you at the last second. But it doesn’t deter him. No, Jake still flexed his hips, more than determined to get you over that edge, to have you cum. Even if he didn’t, he wanted you to experience at least that. 

But those dog tags cause a possessive feeling to rise in his chest - because the only word going through his head right now is mine. 

"You’re mine, Elizabeth,” he grunted. "Say it. Please say it.”

There's the possessive kink you know and love. 

“I’m yours,” you cry out, consumed by the feeling of him driving his cock into you. “Yours Jake, just please…”

It is then a mantra of "pleases" and "I needs" fall from your lips, of which you aren't sure what for. All you knew was that Jake was working you higher and higher off that edge, fully determined to see you tumble over it.

“Cum for me Liz,” he whines.  “Cum for me, just for me. Please my darlin’ girl.”

He drops his hand between the two of you, seeking out your clit and rubbing hard, tight circles that have you screaming. Your soaring, going over that somewhat unfamiliar edge he’s brought you over only twice before.

You swear you black out, just for a few moments, until Jake is at your ear, whispering praise after praise about how good it finally felt to have you cum around him. How only he would ever be the one to experience this, how proud of you he is.

Then he thrusts, once, twice, before your hips jolt up, and he's pressing himself deep, flooding your core. You sob, burying your face into his neck and tightening your legs around him. Because amongst the overstimulation, you can feel another one creeping up from out of nowhere. Pure white heat shoots up to your chest as Jake's haunting moan vibrates your entire being.

Then it's quiet, and you want to bury yourself in this moment. 

You don't even care that you're crying. Because, with all the thoughts and feelings flying back and forth through your mind, there's one that stands out the most. 

Your so fucking glad you waited.

"Are you alright?"

When you don't say anything, too blissed out to form words, Jake pants out your name against your neck; his voice laced with urgency.

"I need... I need a moment. Just a moment," you manage to pant, forcing breath into your lungs. Jake moves, trying to bring himself onto his elbows as his back screams in protest.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, stroking your cheek. You manage a small shake of your head, the sides of your mouth turning upwards. "No," you reply softly.

You finally open your eyes to see Jake staring down at you. His brow pulled together in concern. And, of course, you, being you, had to say the first thing that came to mind.

"I guess you did give me a good time after all."

Jake tilts his head for a second before his memory catches up with him, and he shakes his head, though you can see the puff he takes out of pride. 

"What am I going to do with you, Elizabeth Beck?"

You grin up at him. "Hopefully, a repeat of that sometime in the near future?"

Jake rolled onto his side with a groan, pulling you with him to lie half on his chest. The action caused him to slip out from you, which you were grateful for. The quick movement only caused a brief amount of pain, and you were sure if he drew it out, it would have been worse. 

Jake was pressing kisses to your forehead as the aftershocks finally made them known. You trembled against him, hands trying to find purchase along his chest, and Jake didn't stop until he was sure you were okay.

But, in the blissful silence, once you calmed down, Jake playing with your hair against your back, did he finally ask the question you knew was coming since he walked through your front door.

"Does she hate me?"

You weakly lifted your head from his shoulder, watching the conflicting emotions play across his face.

"The day at the beach. She was devastated..." Jake trailed off, absentmindedly staring at your bedroom wall. You pressed a kiss to his chest. "We've both had a lot of people in our lives that have hurt us."

"I'm used to disappointing people, but her? She has every right."

You frowned. "She missed you so much, Jake."

He shook his head, slamming his eyes shut. You lifted your hand off his chest to cradle his jaw, your thumb stroking across his cheekbone under the newly darkened skin. "She could never hate you. She asked me every day when you'd be coming home."

Jake didn't open his eyes, but he did lean into your touch, his shame and guilt still evident.

You wanted to tell him about the most recent thunderstorm, Sadie waking up and crying out for the both of you in the middle of the night. You had done your best to soothe her, but deep down, you knew she wanted Jake. Nothing could compare to his words of reassurance or the way she felt when he hugged her that night.

In the end, lifting his dog tags off your neck and placing them around hers was the only thing that worked. Huddled in her bed with your arms around her, she fell asleep with them gripped tightly in her hand.

Something told you even if you did tell him, it would only make him more upset.

You stroked your fingers over his forehead, asking him softly, "Come with me when I pick her up from camp next week? I promise she will prove you wrong."

There was a silent pause, and then he opened his eyes. He searched you for any hint of deception, not that he would find any. Sadie was just as important to him as you were. In the end, he nodded once with a sigh.

It was a few more minutes before he carefully untangled himself from your hold. He swung his legs over to the side of your bed with a groan, his muscles spasming as he sat up. Even in your blissed-out state, you reached out and placed a hand on his upper back, where his bruise was the least dark, hoping to soothe some of his pain.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting something to clean you up."

"You don't have to, Jake. I can take care of it."

"It's my job," he countered, turning his head to look at you with a cheeky grin. "Let me do this for you."

He stood, lumping slightly to your bathroom to grab something to clean you up. You watched him go, taking him in in all his naked glory, biting your bottom lip hard.

You still couldn't believe he was yours.

You weren't expecting this: the gentleness as he took the rag between your legs when he returned, the kiss he placed on your thigh when you whimpered from the sensitivity.

After tossing the rag into your laundry hamper to be dealt with later, he maneuvered himself back into the position he assumed last night when you fell asleep, head buried in your neck, arms wrapped under your shoulders.

It was soothing, his weight on your chest almost counteracting the dull throbbing in your core.

"How long do I have you for?" you asked, threading your fingers through his hair.

"I have nowhere to be for the next two weeks," he mumbled into your chest.

"Stay with me?"

"As if I'd leave you now."

😏😘 You hate me now?

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Part 22 - Jump in progress

Wickett ;)

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