#[i will get around to ... following back reading rules etc soon]

[grimowled]

;ooc

[kamaluhkhan]

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

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

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

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

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

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

♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo

(i. he had a savior complex) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it. 

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

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

your eyelids fluttered open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you feeling okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“luke.”

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

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

“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him. 

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

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

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

“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”

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

“it’s…you. you’re….okay?” 

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

you gripped his wrist to steady him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you refused to lose hope. 

no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.

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

“but —” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“thanks, karma.”

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

“what happened? did clarisse —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(ii. he had an ego)

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

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

“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“nice work, rodriguez.” 

"we're going out tonight?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen. 

“well, we aren’t.” 

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

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

“cowards?” you suggested.

silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”

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

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

“i am not a coward.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.

“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.” 

you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.

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

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

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

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

"i don't owe you anything." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your fingers tightened into a fist.

“that is not —”

“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”

“luke, what are you —”

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

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

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

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

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

“see what i mean?”

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

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

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

rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded. 

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

luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.

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

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

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

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

that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.

“what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.

"what about the redhead?"

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

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

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

luke turned towards the exit.

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

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

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

it made you want to kiss him all over again.

(iii. he lied without flinching)

you couldn’t find luke anywhere. 

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

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

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

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

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

“actually, we were just —”

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

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

luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance. 

“i already said no. end of discussion.”

“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.

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

“okay, seriously. what’s —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sitting down next to him, you sighed.

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

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

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

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

“what?”

he leaned in close, voice low.

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

“no. no. she wouldn’t —”

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

“we all are,” you pointed out.

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

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

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

luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you felt him chuckle against your skin.

“since when do you care about that?” 

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

"that’s only if we get caught." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yes, sweetheart?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“eyes up here, beautiful.” 

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

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

you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.

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

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

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

luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too. 

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

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

“do you see my shirt there?”

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

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

you placed your hands on his cheeks. 

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

“luke, baby, look at me.”

when he finally did, your heart ached. 

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

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

“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sparring?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

as if either of you could forget marathoning entire seasons of buffy the vampire slayer on dvds rented from the nearest video store. you'd watch episode after episode with your friends, the six of you squeezing onto the small couch in the big house, sharing one bowl of popcorn and endless cups of coffee to stay awake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re so beautiful," you cooed, nails scraping against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen. "how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

“you won’t.” 

“i'm the lucky one." a shadow passed over luke's face, and you swore you felt his grip tightening on your hips. “i never want to hurt you,” he finished the sentence you had interrupted earlier.

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

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

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

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

he was the one you were irrevocably in love with. 

except your life wasn't some neatly written, scripted coming-of-age story about fictional vampires and slayers. 

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

(v. he made you look so naive)  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vi. he was a vice you could never shake

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you missed —

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

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

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

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

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

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

think of the devil, and he shall appear.

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

you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken. 

i can’t stand to hear your name

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

it was just that — a bad feeling, right?

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

oh baby, you really blew it.

the song ended, and your blood ran cold.

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

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

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

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

“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”

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

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

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

“because i’m alone.”

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

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

luke tried again. 

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

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

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

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

your eyes grazed luke carefully.

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

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

“no. you don’t get to just —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i know….i fucked up, karma.”

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

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

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

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

luke stared at you. you glared back at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

baby. you could have laughed. 

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

kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed. 

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

“that’s not my home.”

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

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

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

you stepped in front of luke. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you were definitely out of practice. 

“kelli!” 

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

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

luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“okay, we need to get you —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

bad habits were always the hardest to break.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke knelt down in front of you. 

“can i take your shirt off?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“wait. what happened?”

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

“luke.”

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

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

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

“can i take this off?”

luke nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

you couldn’t help but add that last part. 

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

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

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

luke just had to make everything so complicated.

“they’re fine, all things considered.”

you didn’t offer anything more, anything less. 

he was quiet for a moment.

“you seem to be doing alright, though?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yeah?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke caught your wrist before you could leave. 

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ll do it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“no kissing,” he warned. 

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

luke swallowed thickly.

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

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

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

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

luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate. 

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

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

“yes. please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re such a —”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck it. please — kiss me.”

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

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

“please,” luke pleaded once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

maybe that was true.

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

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

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

"i guess not."

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

"how's your shoulder?" 

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

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

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

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

"i love you too.”

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

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

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

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

[flowerxbunnie]

hiyaaaa :)))

request : y/n and matt are friends, they both have craaaazzyyy sexual tension that they’ve been denying. one night after finally coming to terms w it, they play strip poker to see who caves first. (idc who caves first, bc ik id be folding like origami!!) then they get reallll nasty and YOU MUST include what we talked ab 😈😈 i’m begging on my knees, i need that witchcraft

Strip For Me

Matt x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT. Friends to lovers, strip poker, spit, etc etc etc

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

super long! like 5000 words oops

Matt’s POV

“UNO!” Chris yells, making all of us jump in our chairs. “MATT DIDN’T CALL IT!”

I huff as I throw my card onto the table, losing yet another game of Uno against Y/n, Nick, and Chris.

“Poor Matty, you literally always forget to call it. It’s too easy.” Y/n laughs, throwing her head back and squeezing her eyes shut.

Game night never fails to piss me off. Chris is too competitive, I swear Nick cheats and changes rules without telling anyone, and Y/n thinks it’s so funny when I lose.

“You better watch it,” I tease, glaring at her from across the table.

“Oh yeah, or what?” she bites back while narrowing her eyes.

Nick and Chris exchange looks and then look between the two of us. I stand up and make my way around to her chair, pulling it out from under the table.

“What are you doing??” she drops her cards and pulls her legs to her chest, interlocking her fingers around them so she’s curled into a ball.

I slip an arm around her thighs and the other around her back and pick her up. Her grip breaks and she’s fighting and thrashing while calling me every name under the sun. I can’t contain my laughter as I carry her to the couch, throwing her down onto a pile of pillows and blankets.

“MATTHEW NO!” she kicks and screams, already knowing what’s coming.

“You asked for it,” I chuckle out and start tickling her stomach.

Her gorgeous giggle echoes through the room and soon enough all four of us are gasping for air in a fit of laughter.

“Matt PLEASE…. ple- MATT!!” she can barely get her words out, her eyes watering and her arms clutched over her stomach.

“You think that’s gonna stop me?” I grab her hands and sit in a straddle position over her legs, pinning her arms above her head with one of my hands.

“Nick, get your fucking brother!” she yells as she tries to wiggle out from under my grasp.

“I have no involvement in this,” Nick says throwing his hands up and laughing.

“Don’t even ask me, I’m not getting caught in a tickle fight,” Chris says before gathering all the cards and shuffling them.

I do my best evil smile down at her before bringing my free hand to hover just between her armpit and ribcage, her most ticklish spot, and wiggling my fingers right above her skin.

“Should I do itttt?” I say in a singsong voice, inching my hand closer and closer.

“Pleaseeee don’t! Matt I’m begging!” She whines, her eyes flicking up to look at me through her lashes.

She gives up her squirming and fighting and just bats her eyes at me. It feels like time stopped. I’m sitting on top of my best friend, arms pinned above her head with those eyes that scream “please fuck me.”

Maybe the feelings aren’t as mutual as I think, but if I was given the opportunity I would jump on her so fucking fast. There’s a tension when we’re around each other that I can almost feel.

“Matt! Get off of me dickhead!” She slaps my arm and snaps me out of whatever trance I was in.

“Next time keep your little remarks to yourself, I win more than you do anyway.” I laugh as I stand up and walk back to my spot at the table.

“That’s just objectively wrong.” She says as she pulls herself up and follows behind me before pulling her chair back up to the table.

“Gotta agree with Y/n. Matt’s just a sore loser.” Nick says as he stands up and stretches his arms above his head. “I’m tired as fuck, I’m going to sleep. Please don’t break anything down here.” He begs as he walks off to his room.

“I’ll play a couple more and then I’m gonna hit the hay too,” Chris yawns as he deals out the next round of cards.

I grab my stack and look up to see Y/n’s gaze already locked onto mine wearing a look I can’t quite read. Just as quickly as our eyes lock she looks back down like nothing happened.

Y/n’s POV

“Goodniiiight!” I yell out to Chris as he walks off to his room.

He throws his hand up in a wave without turning back and I wait until I hear his door shut. I turn back to look at Matt in his spot across the table, his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong, someone doesn’t know how to take a loss?” I ask in a mockingly sweet voice.

“It’s not even fucking fair, you guys cheat and then act like I’m sooo bad at the game.” He drops his hands and looks up at me.

He’s so fucking hot when he’s all worked up and angry, and it’s so easy to push his buttons. I still can’t seem to shake the weird feeling I got after he threw me on the couch earlier. He literally picked me up like I weighed nothing. And looking up at him while his chain dangled over my face made my stomach twist into knots. I’ve always thought Matt was attractive, it’s hard not to. I swear I even catch him looking at me sometimes. But he’s my best friend and I can’t jeopardize that, who knows if he even feels the same? For all I know he could think of me like a sister and I’m just overthinking everything.

But for some reason I decide to keep pushing him tonight.

“Maybe you’re just not good? It’s okay to admit it.” I shrug and start putting all the cards back into the box.

His hands hit the table and when I look up at him his face is filled with annoyance.

“I can literally beat you at any other game.”

“I doubt it Matty. It’s okay though!” I smile and try to hold in my laughter.

He stays silent for a good 30 seconds while I take the box of cards back to the bookshelf. When I come back to the table to grab my phone he stands up and leans onto the table, the muscles in his arms flexing underneath the light above us.

“What about poker? You know how to play?” He asks, his voice low and raspy.

“Do you know who you’re talking to? Of course I know how to play,” I answer, sitting back in my seat instead of retreating upstairs like I had planned. “It wouldn’t even be fair to you honestly.”

He scoffs, turning around to go to the bookshelf. He moves a few items around before grabbing a deck of playing cards and walks back to the table. He tosses the box down and it slides across the table before it stops in front of me.

“I think I’m pretty good too,” he starts, sitting in his chair and leaning back, “I mean I can think of a few things that would make it worth playing..”

My heart jumps in my chest because I know exactly what he’s going to say.

“Have you ever played strip poker?”

I try to keep my cool but I can feel my cheeks burning at the thought of undressing in front of Matt.

“No.. not yet anyway,” I try to answer back as nonchalant as possible, like he has no effect on me.

“So you’re in? You can say no if you want.” His voice softens a bit, but the look in his eyes remains just as dark as before.

“Are you dealing the cards or am I?” I huff as I grab the box and rip it open.

A smirk spreads across his face as he nods his head in my direction. I shuffle the cards and try to keep my hands as steady as possible but they’re definitely shaking. I deal us five cards each and sit the deck in the middle of the table between us.

We both pick up our cards and look over them. I already have a pair of 5’s and an ace, so I lay down the other two and draw two from the deck. Matt lays one card down and draws one. I look up from my hand to see Matt smirking, his slender fingers tapping against the edge of his cards.

“3.. 2.. 1..” He speaks slowly.

We both lay our cards down; I have my pair of 5’s and ended up getting a pair of aces. Matt has four 8’s. Fuck.

“Go ahead.” He sits back in his chair and bites the inside of his cheek with a grin.

I stand up and decide to tease just a little bit. I run my hands down my sides and grab at the hem of my sweatshirt, pulling it up ever so slightly to show the skin of my stomach. His eyes widen and watch my every move.

“Uh, y-you don’t have to start with your shirt,” he says while readjusting in his chair.

“I know. But I want to..” I say in a seductive voice while slowly pulling my shirt up.

I bring it all the way over my head and toss it revealing the tank top I have on underneath before I sit back down giggling.

He relaxes and I hear him let out a breath before grabbing the cards and shuffling them. “I’ll deal this hand.”

After he deals five cards each and we go through the process of throwing some out and redrawing, we lay down the next set. Matt has nothing, which shocks me because he really didn’t seem too stressed. I have a pair of queens.

“Your turnnnn.” I say with a big grin.

He reaches under the table and comes back up with his socks, tossing them somewhere off into the living room.

“Not fair,” I pout, bringing the cards into a pile.

“Socks are clothes, no?” He chuckles and pushes his hair out of his face.

We go through the next few rounds stripping off whatever we could that didn’t feel too risky. Rings, bracelets, watches. We both have nothing left to take off besides the big hitters. I’m dealing the next hand and I say a silent prayer to myself that Matt takes the first big loss.

I have a 5, 6, jack, 8, and 9. I decide I want to risk throwing the jack away to try for a straight. Matt tosses three of his and I try to gauge his reaction. Again, nothing at all but a blank stare. I hope I’m doing just as well with my poker face.

We both lay our cards out. I didn’t end up getting the straight, but I drew a king. Matt doesn’t have anything either so we’re forced to go for who has the highest card.

“I have a queen! Get to it,” he says smugly while interlocking his fingers behind his head and sitting back.

I almost open my mouth to tell him that a king is worth more than a queen, but the anticipation is getting to be too much for me. Watching him as he stares at me from across the table, seeing his long fingers gripping his cards, his smirks, his hair falling over his eyes as he concentrates on his next move. It’s been doing something to me, and I’ve had a heat growing between my thighs for a while now. Why not let him think he won this one and speed things up a bit?

“Damn it!” I say in the most convincing voice of annoyance that I could muster.

I stand up from my seat and watch as his eyes follow along, glazed over and half lidded. I hook my fingers into the elastic band of my sweatpants and slowly pull them to the floor, my light purple lace underwear now on full display. I turn around on purpose and toss my pants over the back of the couch, bouncing on my feet a little to make my ass jiggle. I hear him let out a breath and look over at him as he sits up straighter in his chair.

“Nice panties.” he says in a flat voice, trying to play cool as if I can’t see the half chub in his jeans.

“Thanks.” I reciprocate his energy and sit back down, the cold metal against my legs giving me chills.

We go through the motions again, eyeing each other for any signs of hesitation before laying our next set down. I have a full house, three 4’s and two aces. Matt has a pair of 7’s.

He huffs and scoots his chair back, starting to pull up his shirt.

“Uh uh! Stand up, it’s part of the rules,” I tease.

“You and Nick with your random rule changes.” He shakes his head but stands anyway, lifting his shirt over his head.

His toned stomach flexes as he throws it. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. I’ve been to the pool with them, spent days at the beach- hell, even just him walking around the house. But with all the tension in the room I can’t help but stare a little harder. I move my eyes down to his happy trail and I have to bite my lip as I feel myself getting wet at the sight of him. He sits back down and shoots a knowing grin my way while shuffling the cards again.

The next round is played out and we’re getting ready to show our sets. I already know I’m fucked because I have absolutely nothing, but I really don’t care about the game at this point. We both lay out our cards and peer across the table.

Matt has a set of four. He keeps his head down and looks up at me through his brows, his bottom lip between his teeth.

I stand up and grab a strap from my tank top, slipping it down my shoulder. I hold eye contact and I swear I can see his pupils dilating and constricting like crazy. I grab the other strap and slip it down my other shoulder, my own fingertips giving me goosebumps with how slow I’m going in order to tease him. I pull them both back up and slide my hands down to the hem, pulling it up my abdomen slowly. His eyes dart up my body and he adjusts himself in his pants. I swear I could become addicted to the way his eyes soak me in.

My heart is nearly beating out of my chest as I pull the fabric over my breasts, making sure to hold it tight against me so they bounce as they fall out. I pull it the rest of the way over my head and let it fall to the floor before moving back to my seat.

“Holy shit, I… I thought you were wearing a bra,” he stutters out, “not that I’m complaining because… I just thought the game would.. holy fuck they’re perfe-”

“Hmm, thanks Matthew.” I say cutting him off.

He gulps and nods before wiggling in his seat. He grabs the deck and starts to shuffle them, cards flying out every now and again and his cheeks burning a bright red color. I can’t help but grow even wetter watching the effect I have on him just from taking my top off.

He gets the cards situated and starts dealing them out, his eyes flicking up to my chest every now and again as he tries to keep his focus. I pick up my hand and somehow I have six cards. I look over and he has four. I let out a soft giggle and hold my cards up.

“We’re supposed to have 5 each, Matty.”

“Oh shit. Sorry.”

He adds another card to his hand and I grab one of mine to hand back to him. My fingers brush against his and I swear my entire body pulses.

He suddenly sits his cards down and pushes himself to his feet, his chair making a scratching sound across the floor as it pushes back. He runs his fingers along the table as he makes his way to my side. He stands next to me and I crane my neck up to look at him, his eyes full of hunger.

“How about we call off the game?” He asks in a whisper as his hand reaches up to swipe a thumb across my bottom lip. “I can’t concentrate with you sitting here like this across from me.”

I gasp as the tip of his thumb enters my mouth, pressing down on my tongue before pulling it back out.

“Thought you’d never ask,” I whisper back, turning towards him as I stand up, running my hands up his chest along the way.

I glide my hands over his collarbones before wrapping my arms around his neck, loosely intertwining my fingers behind his head. His fingertips softly graze my waist, my skin on fire under his touch. He brings his forehead down to meet mine, our eyes locked on one another as we breathe in sync.

“I need to hear you say it.” he whispers as his hands settle on my hips.

“Say what, Matthew?”

“That you’re okay with this. That you want it as much as I do.”

“I want it Matt, I have for a long time.”

His breath shudders and he pulls me closer, his erection throbbing against my thigh. He disconnects our foreheads, pulling back to look from my eyes to my lips and back up.

“I need you in my room,” he breathes out before looping his arms around my thighs and picking me up. His hands are teasingly close to my ass as he walks to his room, shutting and locking the door with one hand before letting me down in front of his bed.

Without warning his hands are gripping my face and he slams his lips against mine. Everything else ceases to exist as our tongues swirl together, our bodies so close together we almost feel like one person. His hands slide down from my face to my jaw, then to my throat causing me to let a moan escape into his lips. He hums in response and adds a little pressure, and my knees feel like they could buckle and give up on me. This feels so naughty, my best friend touching me in all the places I’ve wanted him to for so long.

I pull away from the kiss and drop to my knees in front of him, placing kisses down the hot skin of his stomach. I lick a stripe up his happy trail and his eyes bore into me as I undo his button and zipper. I slide his jeans down and they pool around his ankles before he kicks them off. I run my nails up and down his thighs, watching as his body reacts and his dick twitches under the fabric of his boxers. I trail my hands up, running my palm across his hard length before wrapping my hand around it and hearing him sigh my name under his breath.

His eyes are blown out with need, the blue irises barely visible. He reaches down and places his hand over my own, tightening my grip around his cock and moving my hand back and forth.

“You drive me fucking crazy, Y/n.” He groans and starts rocking his hips against my hand.

“Yeah? Do something about it then.” I say and move my other hand to start pulling his boxers down.

He lets out a moan at my words, throwing his head back a bit as his cock springs up in front of my face.

He grips my chin and tilts my head up, bucking his hips forward so his length rubs across my face. I stick my tongue out as he brings it back down, feeling the veins that run all the way to his tip. I open my mouth to take only his head in, sucking lightly and keeping my head still. I grip my hand around his base and pull him back out of my mouth, kitten licking the underside of his head, eliciting a shaky breath from him as he brings his hands to wrap into my hair.

“Such a fucking tease,” he draws out.

I just smile and move my tongue all the way to the base and flatten my tongue, licking all the way up and kissing the his tip. I continue teasing him for a minute or two, loving the beautiful sounds that fall past his lips. I can tell he wanted nothing more than to shove his dick down my throat, but Matt is too much of a gentleman for that.

I take his entire length into my mouth, his head touching my uvula and making me gag around him. He sucks in sharply and his fingers tighten around the roots of my hair. I keep going, bobbing my head back and forth and hollowing my cheeks around him. He lightly thrusts into my mouth, matching my speed. His jaw hangs slack and he starts panting as his dick becomes incredibly hard, twitching and throbbing in my mouth. He pulls my head back and my mouth makes a popping sound around his head.

“Fuck, almost made me finish in your mouth baby. You just look so pretty with your lips wrapped around me.” he says as he strokes my hair.

He grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet, bringing his hands to my panties and pulling at them, almost a silent way of saying he needs them off. I help him get them down and he picks me up, his dick brushing against my core in the process which sends sparks through my body. He tosses me onto his bed, standing over me and taking in the sight like he’s the first man that discovered fire.

“So beautiful.” He whispers as he crawls up the bed over me, leaving kisses up both my legs and stomach, all the way up to my breasts. “Always knew you had perfect tits.”

He places a wet, warm kiss on each nipple, watching as they harden up from the stimulation. He brings his tongue to my left one and flicks it up and down and I can’t help but let out a little whine. He circles his tongue around it and looks up at me before sucking on it softly. He moves his attention to the other one and repeats his actions, but my pussy is begging for his mouth to be there instead.

“Matt, please…” I whimper out, grabbing his head and pushing down so he’ll get the hint.

“Please what?” He smirks, softly nipping and licking at the skin on my ribcage.

“N-need to feel your face between my legs,” I blush. It feels so strange to finally be able to say these things out loud.

He scoots down the bed and settles between my legs, spreading them apart and kissing his way from my knee to my upper thigh.

“So wet for your best friend, you dirty girl.” He says before placing a kiss onto my clit, my body jolting and a soft moan escaping my lips.

His narrows his tongue and runs it up and down my folds lightly before flattening it out and adding pressure, licking from the bottom to the top.

“Such a little slut letting me taste you like this. It’s so wrong..” he trails off before continuing his actions.

His words twist my stomach into knots. He’s right, I know deep down that it’s so wrong to be doing this with my best friend while his brothers are asleep in the house. But it feels so fucking good, so right.

I rake my fingers through his hair and push it back off his forehead, just taking in the sight of him working to please me. He dips down a little and sticks his tongue into my entrance, swirling it in circles as I start to clench around him.

“F-fuck.. feels so good,” I moan and buck my hips towards him, tightening my grip in his hair and pushing his tongue deeper into me.

He hums and flicks his tongue around making sure to touch every single spot he can get. He brings his thumb to my clit and sticks the rough pad of it against me, applying pressure and rubbing delicious circles.

Before I know it I am coming undone on Matt’s face, my orgasm ripping through my body unexpectedly. I cry out his name as my legs shake and tighten around his head. I’m pulling on his hair hard enough for him to let out a groan of pain, but he continues and lets me ride out my high, pulling back and breathing heavily after I relax onto the bed.

He moves up and hovers above me, his face glistening with the evidence of my orgasm. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes still dark and needy.

“You feel better now, princess? Got to cum all over your best friend’s face. God, you’re such a bad girl.”

“Mmm, don’t act like you didn’t want it just as bad as me, Matty.” I say between lazy kisses, tasting myself on his lips.

“Never said I didn’t, sweetheart.”

He grabs my legs and pushes them up, hooking both of them around his shoulders. He runs his tip through my folds, coating himself in my juices that have mixed with his saliva. His breath shudders as he pushes in slowly, not because he wants to, but because he’s so big that I’m having trouble taking him.

“So fucking tight,” he groans, easing in millimeters at a time.

“F-fuck Matt, I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to take it all.” I wince as he stretches me out.

“You will. Give it time baby. I’ll make it fit.”

He leans his head down and lets a string of spit fall onto my clit, dripping down and settling where we meet. He pulls back out only to push in further, and my stomach tenses up at the pain. He shoots me a sympathetic look, but it only lasts a second before his eyes get that hungry look again and he’s smirking down at me.

“Poor girl, I just know you’re never gonna be able to find anyone who can make you feel like I’m about to.”

Without warning he pushes all the way in, pain and pleasure coursing through my body as he steadily begins pumping in and out. His hands grip my legs and I bring mine to his chest, clawing and scratching instinctively to relieve some of the pain.

“M-matt, fuck..” I cry out, my eyes rolling back as he pounds into me so deep I swear I can feel him in my stomach.

“Look at that pretty face, all for me.” He praises.

The pain slowly starts subsiding, dopamine flooding my bloodstream as my body starts to feel intense amounts of pleasure. I’m a mess, eyes watering and my nails leaving him bloody. It feels animalistic, we’re fucking as if it’s all we know to do.

“Open your mouth.” He growls, his entire demeanor dark and sadistic.

I oblige, opening my mouth and sticking my tongue out. He spits onto it and moves a hand to my chin, closing it and holding it shut.

“Swallow it.”

I do as I’m told and he slaps my cheek lightly, moving his hand back to my leg and gripping with white knuckles.

My body is overwhelmed with all the sensations, my head is swimming and my breathing is rapid. I feel the same feeling igniting in my stomach, so close to the edge I can taste it.

He pulls out suddenly, grabbing his cock and jerking it with his head thrown back before he releases his hot cum onto my pussy.

“Touch yourself with it,” he demands, slinging my legs apart and onto the bed.

I immediately bring my hand down to my clit without second thought, using two fingers to rub back and forth. I bring my other hand and insert a finger into my entrance, pushing his own release into myself. He watches intently as I use his cum as lubrication to send myself toppling over the edge. My legs shake and my back arches, my orgasm taking control and waves of pleasure crashing over and over until my energy is spent.

He falls down on top of me, his head on my chest as we catch our breath together. I can feel my pulse from head to toe, my heart beating like crazy along with his own.

•••

I open my eyes and the sun is shining through the blinds casting a beam directly on my face. I stretch a little and look over and smile as I see Matt tucked underneath the comforter beside me.

I don’t remember anything after we fucked last night, so I guess we passed out.

I open my phone to check for notifications, my heart dropping as I open the group chat between myself and the triplets.

Nick: 1 attachment

Nick: What is this…?!

I click the photo and my eyes widen. It’s an overview of the living area, clothes and jewelry strewn about with a messy set of cards on the table.

I lock my phone and stuff it under my pillow quickly, trying to convince myself I never saw it.

I flip over and cuddle up to Matt, throwing my arm over his stomach and laying my head on his chest.

We can deal with all that later.

[winterarmyy]

Around My Scars

Glimpses of mafia!bucky and his wife's arranged married life.

Summary: A careless decision leads to Bucky almost losing his wife.

Note: Read 《 Plot Twist 》 for backstory of the couple.

Words: 5.1k++

Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, physical assault (not from bucky), sexual assault (not from bucky), graphic violence, reader is lowkey a badass, pussyjob, reader on top but bucky in control, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, extra soft!bucky, fluff, tiny angst, etc.

P/S: If you have not read the original story yet. You can read it first for backstory. If not, you still can read it as standalone. And for those who came from plot twist series, I noticed there's a lot of you wanting more from this couple. So here's one of the glimpses of what happen somewhere in the future. Enjoy ♡

Read my other works here: Masterlist

All her life, she never thought a kiss could be this gentle. In fact every time Bucky's lips graced on her skin, it was impossibly tender. His kisses trailed along her bare back, from the center of her waist up to the back of her shoulder.

His lips followed the surrounding shape of her scarring wounds, as if he was tracing the shadows of them. His hot breath fanning against her cold skin and the deep, and subtle hum of his voice lulled her to near slumber.

Unlike his soft pillowy lips, his hands however were the opposite. His right was calloused and warm while the other was smooth and cold. Yet both of them were cupping her bare breasts perfectly; they felt so good on her skin.

It felt good like this; nothing in between them. Not even a single piece of clothing separating them apart. Bare and naked.

"Bucky..." a quiet moan was drawn from her lips as his hands squeeze her softness before they roamed around her frame.

Bucky only tightens his hold on her upon hearing her voice. It was if he was afraid that she was not real. As if she was just an illusion he was despretely holding onto.

He pulled her impossibly closer, his metal arm wrapped around her waist, gripping on the side while his right hand palming her chest, right above where her heart was beating.

She's real. She's here.

His own voice reassured his doubtful mind.

However, Y/N was getting nothing from her husband. Only grunts and growl and him snuggling into her, "Bucky, baby? What's wrong, honey?" she coaxed him softly as her hand reached back to played with his hair.

It took a few moments of silence before Bucky finally replied, his voice sounded like regret, "It's my fault, y/n."

~ ~ Flashback ~ ~

It was a normal day for the couple. A lovely day, in fact. They were on one of their 'undercover' dates. At least, that what Y/N called it. A name she came up with that makes Bucky rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Apparently, after the diner date they had before, they find themselves wanting more of it. The normality of life outside of the reality they lived in. And they surely made it a weekly schedule. Not that it was chore for them though, it never was, never will be.

After visiting the Brooklyn Book Festival and basically almost hauling the displays, they were planning to eat the new cafe near the location. But, as soon as they find the seats, Bucky got a call.

He was not supposed to even received any call.

That was one of the rules he set himself; no business during their dates. For whatever reason, this one got through him.

"Probably something huge." Y/N guessed as she watched Bucky excuses himself to pickup the call.

And her hunch was true. It was a huge deal. Especially when she saw his expression when he was approaching their table.

"I'm sorry, sweets. I really hate to leave you like this." He apologized when Y/N said she was okay to eat lunch alone.

"It's okay, I'm already here so it'd be a waste to completely cancel the plan." She continued to justify her decision for the reasons that the new café was hard to book a table, as if Bucky couldn't just book the whole goddamn café everyday for the rest of their life for her.

But, in the end, she did managed to persuade him. Bucky gentlely pulled her by the chin, before placing a soft kiss on her lips; whispering promises to make it up for her.

As his promises were laced with sweetness and sin, Y/N couldn't help but to smile against his lips, humming in agreement before watching him jog to the car.

She waved him a final goodbye and smiled at Steve who came to pick him up. The car drove away, leaving two of Bucky's men behind to look after Y/N.

If only Bucky knew how careless his decision was to leave those particular men in charge of his wife. Both were high on drugs and was not in a condition to be on duty. Especially a duty as important as protecting the lady of mansion.

At first it wasn't clear why she felt a little out after her lunch. She thought she would be fine after a little walk at the nearby park but she was wrong. Utterly wrong; especially when her vision went dark all of the sudden.

When she woke up in that basement, it clicked her. Her drink or food must have been spiked.

How long has it been since? How far away is she now from Bucky? Y/N woke up knowing nothing. Not knowing the place she was in nor the duration she had passed out.

Her heart was pumping fast, all the while her body was deadly cold. She was expecting to be tied up on a chair, at least she could try wiggle herself out of it but luck wasn't on her side.

Metal chains securely cuffed around her wrists as well as her ankles. Her movement was limited as the end of the chains were attached to the wall behind here. Anxiety threatens her to cry but she tried to stay calm.

Y/N looked at her surroundings. It seems to be a run down basement. There's lack of natural light source; the very little lighting were coming from the dim fluorescent lamp right above her head and another two in different location.

Clearly some empty bottles of alcohol were scattering all over the place. But none of those items were close enough for her to reach out to. Y/N heard laughs from behind the rusty metal door. It had two distinct voices; one deep and another was rather squeaky.

A clacking sound seemed to indicate that someone was unlocking the door. As the door opened, a man in his mid 30s walked in with a cruel smile.

He walked closer followed by two other man behind him; both were armed. Y/N frantically crawled back to meet her back to the walls behind her, the metal chains rubbed with each other, breaking the silence in the room.

"Stay back!" she warned.

The brutal man took a chair and sat in front of her. He looked like that type of person who would do anything for power. He had nothing but fiery eyes.

He look down and said "What's your name, sweetheart?" his voice demand nothing but a clear answer.

Y/N glared up to him, "I'd tell you, but I don't like being labelled." If hatred was visible the air would have been scarlet. The man could see she was not afraid to bite if he reach his hands out.

He chuckled darkly, "You're funny..." But unfortunately, he wasn't the type to reach out, he's more likely to; lash out.

The silenced room was once again tainted with sound, but this it wasn't just the moving chains but there was also the sound created from the impact of the harsh slap across Y/N's face.

The back of his hand hit and she fell with the force of it, "Urghh.." she groaned as she fall flat on the ground. The man continued, "... but not funny enough."

She can taste the coppery liquid on her tongue; she must have injured herself. Her cheeks stings as hell but Y/N was never the type to stay quiet and cry in front of people, especially to her enemies.

She giggled eerily as she sat back up, the undying flames in her eyes burn brighter, "Well that was fucking weak." she spat out the blood right on his shiny black shoes.

The man slipped out hysterical laugh, "I see why he like to keep you around." he smirked and stood from the chair. He dragged the rickety wooden chair away and threw it farther away than the original position.

Y/N had her gaze as strong as her will to live. The man look back to the tiny woman on the dusty floor before walking away. "Sir, what do we do with the girl?" One of the guards asked.

The man stopped midway through the door and stay silence for awhile, a wicked thought came through him, "Do whatever you want to do. As long as she remains alive." he snapped his head back to display a meaningful malicious grin and closed the doors behind him.

It was just a second of a glimpse, but the man clearly saw Y/N's despair in her expression. Too bad he had to go so soon.

As the doors closed, the two man look at each other and back to Y/N. A person doesn't need be a genius to read the mood. She knew exactly what's going to happen and for the first time a long time, she was petrified. For the first time in forever, she was scared for her life.

She couldn't breathe, it felt as if someone was choking her. Her heart was racing and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball and wait for someone to save her. But no one would, no one was there.

A choked cry for help forced itself up her throat, "Get away! Don't come any closer!" she felt a drop run down her cheek. It seemed as if this was the end of the road for her.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Y/N roared hoping the two man had a little bit fear but considering her position, that obviously not going to happen.

The man fearless and shamelessly grabbed her despite she was crying out pleads. "Come now, sweets. Make this easy for us."

Sweets. It sounds so disgusting coming from another man.

One of the man grabbed a hold of her wrists while another took his time feasting her with his eyes.

"P-please don't d-do this..." she sniffled as her strength were getting weaker, despite all of the quarrels and battle she had gone through before, she should be fearless.

But, when one is looking into eyes that lurked with such dark lust as those she was seeing right now; fear is bound to creep in. No matter how strong-willed a person see themselves as.

"Don't worry, we'll be gentle if you behave." he licked his upper lips as he run his hand along her waist up to her chest.

It was disgusting, every cells on Y/N's body was rejecting his touch; her throats seemed like it was trying to force her to puke something out but there's nothing but the nausea.

Tears kept falling down as they escape from the corner of her eyes. She was beyond terrified, even with her struggling; it seemed to be useless.

The man grabbed on the fabric of her sundress that was framing her collarbone and forcibly ripped them apart, exposing Y/N in her bra. The man scanned her body once more, cock straining in his pants.

Damn, she looked like sin.

He managed to gripped her hands together in one hand before she could protest even more. His other hand reaching to her breast.

No.

His rough grip on her breast was only bringing her pain than pleasure. But he was rather enjoying the tenderness of her body.

No.

He dipped in closer; he stuck his tongue out to lick the valley of her breasts, leaving trails of his disgusting stickiness behind.

Stop.

He hummed in satisfaction, approving the way she tasted. His bulge rubbing against her clothed core, humping for pleasure. Y/N couldn't look at him.

Please, stop.

But the moment she looked away, she made eye contact to the other man behind him. He had his cock in his hand, lazy strokes and a wicked smile when the tears fell down from her eyes.

"So pretty, baby" he mouthed.

For a moment there Y/N stopped struggling. She sat still like a doll who loses its' battery power, the man's statement rang in her head in an infinite loop.

"You're beautiful, y/n" Bucky's voice resurfaced in her mind.

"You're always going to be mine." the voice continued.

"I'm always going to be there to protect you, sweets."

The flashbacks run through her head faster than a bullet train.

Seeing how Y/N stopped moving, they thought she gave up. But then again, some people never learn. Don't ever underestimate your opponent.

She get the hold of herself, pulled her head back and headbutt the man in front of her. She didn't even care if she could get a concussion herself from the impact. The man ended up falling back on his ass as he grunts in pain.

"Stay. The Fuck. Away. From Me." She threatened.

Though her defiant only spark anger from the man, rather than fear. When he regained his balance, he slipped the leather belt from his pants, "You asked for this little girl. So be it." he grunts as he pulled a hand back.

His palm strikes her on already stinging cheeks, making her fall on her chest. Before she could pushed herself up, she was forced to stay down as the man pressed his boots at the back of her head.

"You need to be trained like a bitch. And I'm gonna give you exactly that." His words only sounded like a warning to her.

Which was exactly it, when she felt the first strike of his belt across her back. It was one of many mean and harsh whipping on her delicate skin. Until she was aching, bleeding.

As sick as he was, enjoying the thrill of torturing a defenseless girl, the other man was much more twisted, as he kept stroking himself as he watched Y/N bleed and whimpered.

It was disgusting, it was painful; And at one point her hands were reaching around only to clung on the man's other foot.

Surprisingly he stopped, "Learnt your lessons yet, mutt?"

Y/N can hear his sinister smile despite her face planted on the floor. She didn't reply, the only sound can be heard from her, is her unstable breathing.

Wanting as answer, he foolishly pulled his foot away from her head, "Are you deaf? Answer me!" He pushed.

Foolish he was.

Y/N fought against the agonizing pain on her back and took the advantage to pull his leg as hard as she could, making his fall on the floor. She was swift with her next move; she hit the man's groin with her elbow, automatically lower the protection his other part of his body.

As he was busy tending his wounded balls, Y/N slide behind him and wrapped the chains around his neck, she yanked the man as she tighten the crossover metal chains.

"You better stay the fuck away from me or he's dead." She warned the other man who was trying to get to her, he called her bluff. He took a step closer, still pushing his luck.

Y/N strengthen her grip as well as pulling the chain as hard as she could, practically strangling and knocking out the breath out of his throat. "S-Stop. S-stay there." the dying man stuttered.

The other obliged and had his hand up in the air as a sign of surrender. Y/N glared up to the man, "Lay your filthy hands on me again, I won't hold back." she growled in his ears before drifting his head towards the wall, knocking him unconscious.

Upon seeing his accomplice slouched to the floor with a bleeding head, the other man tried to grabbed and hold her down. But she quickly grabbed the gun from the unconscious man, and pulled the trigger.

Her aim was off but enough to disarm him. His right shoulder now had a hole through it. He grunted to agonizing pain on his shoulder, but he should've known to not let his guard down. Then, it hits him. Another hole through the shins of his left leg.

He screamed and wailed, sucking air in and out of his mouth, holding on to the last cliff of his life as he fell into his knees and down to the floor.

Despite the lack of protest from the man, Y/N didn't let her guard down as she still holding on the gun in her grip.

At this point, Y/N was losing more than just her blood, but her strength and vision too. She blinked slowly, waiting for glimpse of threat from the entrance.

Even if the two men were rendered immobilized, however she knew gunshot will alert the others. Anyone could barge in at any point of time. And she needed to be ready for them.

The door was getting blurry in her point of view and the cracking headache greeted as painful as the other wounds all over her back.

The dark silence didn't last long as Y/N can clearly heard a lot of movements from the level above her. One time she heard multiple footsteps running around and another she heard loud cracks much resembles a sound of a "Gun shots..." she breathed.

It took a single kick on the rusty old metal door; Y/N's body jumped out of reflex to the sound of the door fall from it's frame. As the door fell down, it revealed the face of a man who Y/N thought she could never see ever again.

His face were painted with the colour of crimson, almost covering half of his beautiful features; but his sapphire eyes shines the same. Even if her hearts was pumping fast, it seemed like the man was more desperate for air than she herself.

A sense of relief hit her like the crashing wave as she called out his name, "Bucky..."

Bucky stood there,dark and dangerous; just a few steps away from the woman he claimed as his. His heart seemed to stop for a split second; there she was — crawled in the corner of the dim lit room, both hands and legs chained to the wall behind her.

It's not that Bucky couldn't see there were others in the basement besides her; he knew that, he could see them but the nudity of his wife's chest caught his attention and he could see the pieces of her torn clothes were near her wounded ankles and wrists.

The cuts on around her skin, cause by the metal cuffs symbolizes her struggles. The bright pair of eyes that Bucky had always admired; they glint, however, in pain and tears.

A sight that Bucky never wanted to see.

Frozen in his spot, Y/N gathered all the strength she had left, to shout his name once again, "Come here, Bucky..." the sound of the strained metal chain echoed along with her shaky plead, as she reach her arms out towards her husband.

Pleading for his touch, his warmth.

It took less than a second after hearing her calling, for Bucky to sprint towards her. Completely ignoring the riot of bullets echoed from above them, even stepping on the men on the floor.

He had lost her for less than seven hours, but it felt like forever. Bucky fell down to his knees as he wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her head to his chest. He hold onto her tightly, as if someone was trying to rip her away from his grasps.

It was slight, but Bucky could clearly feel her body shivering body in his embrace as she cried to his chest, a piercing pain struck his heart, "I'm here. I'm here." he whispered softly.

His hand found it's way to her back, wanting to give her a tender stroke of reassurance but he found himself frozen to the sensation on his palm.

At first he felt it; wet and sticky. But when he brought his hands up to the light, he finally saw how his whole palm were covered in blood. Her blood. His wife's blood.

A wave of pure rage reigned his whole being and what happen that day had become one of the things Bucky's men will never forget.

Bucky made sure it rain blood that day.

And it was truly a gruesome sight to see.

~ ~ End of Flashback ~ ~

Since the day Y/N woke up in their bed, Bucky never left her side. Not even for his business, for weeks now Bucky had temporarily place the authority to Steve and he had spend his day tending his wife as he should.

Now, weeks later from that day, Bucky is claiming that it was his fault that she was kidnapped?

No, it absolutely was not. Far from it. How is y/n getting kidnapped is his fault? How is y/n getting tortured is his blunder? That does not make any sense. Not in any universe.

"I should've been there with you." He explained.

Bucky's kisses took a halt in the crook of her neck, he relishes the sweet scent emitting from her as his lips rested on her weak spot. Where does the scent coming from? Was it from her body lotion or from her shampoo. Eitherway, it was intoxicating.

He almost felt guilty for finding a calming relief from it. He wasn't nearly worthy enough to find peace in her. And yet here he was; selfish and greedy for the friction of her touch, the influence of her scent, the melody of her moans, all of her.

Y/N release herself from his embrace and swiftly changed her position to straddling him. His eyes searched her face, wondering if she was uncomfortable and how can he please her.

She run her hands through his hair as she chooses her words carefully, "Yes, you should. But that doesn't justify why you blame yourself for it." She leaned into him, brushing the tip of her nose on his.

Before Bucky can protest, Y/N shuts him up with a kiss on his lips, "It was not your fault. No one knew that they going to spike my drink. No one knew that they managed to drug up your men. Honey, it was an accident. It was not your fault, it never was and never will be." She was only speaking the truth, even Bucky couldn't argue.

He leaned his forehead on her before speaking up, "I just hate seeing you get hurt, sweets." Bucky sighed, as a frown formed on his face.

Y/N does not want Bucky to dwell in this darkness again. He kept doing it for the past weeks, and though some days she managed to pull him out, some other she failed. This worries her; it scared her.

Bucky might not notice it right now since his mind was blurry with worry; but if he was more aware of his surroundings he might just notice how Y/N was slowly leaking on his cock. His girth was slotted perfectly between her pussy and the sight of it turns her on.

It's been awhile since they feel each other; due to her injuries Bucky was constantly worrying about hurting her during sex.

And she was desperate for him, she want him to remove all the bad memories of that day. Douse her with his touch, mark her body so the traces of the man will no longer bear any meaning to her.

Her cunt twitches to the thought, she couldn't help but to grind her hips. Letting his cock glides through her folds; getting it wet from her fluids, "Then love on me, Bucky." It was an instant respond from Bucky, his cock was growing hard on command.

His gaze briefly fell on where his cock was buried between, before looking up to her hazy eyes. "...If you don't want to see me hurt. Then make love to me, let me show you how good you make me feel." She coaxed as her hips continues to grind on him.

Each movement causing throbs of need on her clit. She kept brushing it along his length, presses a little force when it reached to the tip of cock. Bucky moaned in sheer pleasure everytime she did that.

"Please, Bucky I miss you..” She mumbled softly, rolling her hips a bit, making him groan as he melted, "I miss you too, babydoll." He breathes out deeply before placing a sweet kiss on lips.

Bucky held her by the side of her hips and pushes her down further, as he slowly thrusted his hard throbbing cock in between the wet slit of her pussy.

The immense sensation on her was beyond words to describe. She thought she knew pleasure before but turn out she was wrong. Unable to even utter a single coherent word, Bucky on the other hand wasn't planning disappoint her.

Bucky's thrusts get faster and rougher by time until he started to hump her almost uncontrollably, letting out these little desperate groans.

"Feel so good, Buck-- ah shit--" Y/N moaned, her face flushed pink, mouth hanging open as her pussy throbbed against his drenched cock. Every time he push forward, he could feel himself spreading the lips of her pussy apart.

His pace did not drop as his goal is to make her cum just by him fucking through her folds alone. He want see her feeling good. And sure enough, she began to whimper, "I'mma cum. Bucky, please don't stop. I'm cumming."

Bucky leaned into her ears and whispered, "Go ahead, babydoll. Cum for me. Let me see your face when I make you cum. That's it baby, hmmm, so pretty. Can feel ya clenching. Feels good doesn't it, sweets. Yeah you do." He held her still as he thrusted against her slick again and again, letting her ride her high; his pace was faster and maybe a bit more desperate than before while she from her orgasm.

Bucky caught her from falling back into the mattress, he leaned her body towards himself. Letting her rest on his chest. Slow drag of his cock on her pussy felt so good, she might have had a mini orgasm from it.

"Babydoll, gonna make you feel even more better. Gonna stuff your pussy full. Can I? Promise it'll make you feel so good. Want that, sweets?" Bucky coaxed her with sinful temptation that she couldn't resist.

"Yes please. Wanna be stuffed and full of you and your cum. Please?" She didn't need to beg like that for Bucky to comply.

His hand searched for hers before he interlock her fingers with him. He sit her up on her knee, using one of his free hand to line the tip of his cock at her entrance. 

Y/N's whole body trembled when he thrust himself up into her one swift movement. He watch as her eyes are furrowed shut, lips parted in pleasure. Her knuckles whiten as they grip the sheets and his hand.

Oh she was so full. So full of him.

Bucky bite his lip at the feeling of being inside her, the clenching her walls around his needy cock. He lift her up off him slowly, ceating a slow but deep pace, she let the sounds of his deep groans fill her ears. He’s not noisy, but just very vocal, every breath coming out as moan of pleasure.

"You’re so good for me, Bucky."  She praise breathlessly. "So good".

His hips buck up and she hiss as he inadvertently thrusts into her deeper than before. "God," he almost whined, lost at the feel of her warm cunt.

Y/N was also feeling as good. The sting of the stretch was amazing. She bite back her moan as he rubbed all over her favourite spots inside, "Hmmpph! Buck- ahh. please, ahh-- fuck me so good." She let out a breathy mumbling noises as he continue drill his cock in and out of her.

"Feels amazing being inside you, sweets. So warm, so wet. Fuck-- yeah just that, milk me like that yeahh" Bucky's hips moved upwards and downward as he fucks her rough and messy, holding her tightly against his body as he bounces her up and down on his cock.

Both of the pair of eyes never left each other. Eyes roaming to stare either at each others fucked-out face or to where their sex was connected.

How lewd it was; the way he languidly pumps himself in and out of her. How her small little hole could swallow his cock perfectly in each of his hips thrusts. How beautiful the sweat glistens across her skin;

The way Bucky dips his head into her to pepper kisses on her neck, the way his brows furrow when he gives a particularly deep thrust. Every single thing about it was beautiful.

Bucky felt so thick inside of her and he's hitting so deep, it felt fucking incredible. She can feel the pressure building inside of her, "i'm gonna cum again... oh god, bucky baby,-- ahh fuck-- "

Bucky encouraged her with with low growl and she moaned raggedly as she came on his cock; squeezing him tight, and his thrusts become even wilder, "fuck yes, squeezing me so nice. Gonna cum inside ya, sweets. Will have my load leaking from your pussy baby." his groan were starting to sound more desprete.

Still high on orgasm, she nods in agreement, "yes, Bucky. Wanna feel you leaking please" She pleaded as she felt another wave of pleasure was trying to burst.

Bucky's thrusts loses it's pattern as he chased his high, "oh fuck, i'm cummin' inside ya, sweets! Fuck fuck fuck" strings of curses spilled before he let out a long moan as his cock burst on his high, filling her to the brim with his thick hot cum.

Naturally, she came as well, accompanied by a sweet mewl as her walls pulsed around him while he empties ropes and ropes of his cum inside her, whimpering into her ear.

When he's finally finished he gives a long, contented sigh he slowly lay on the bed, gently bringing her along as he rested her head on his chest. With his cock still resting in her throbbing pussy, Bucky thought of going for round two.

But when he heard the soft snores coming from his wife, he put that thought in a backlog, and instead decided to help clean his babydoll up so she could get a better rest as she deserved.

By the time she was well taken care of, Bucky scrolled through his text messages with Steve. The 'temporary in charge' was apparently also in charge of depriving life out of the two men who had assaulted Y/N.

"Are they dead yet?" Bucky prompted.

"No. They beg to though." Steve replied.

"Then, let them beg to death." Bucky ended the conversation, before placing his phone aside.

Though he takes pleasure in torturing his prey with his own bare hands however nothing is more important than being by his wife's side when she needed him the most.

Besides, those scum will live long enough for Bucky to come down there and bring hell to them himself. He will make sure of that. But until then, nothing matters to Bucky than being here for his babydoll.

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

P/S: I love reading feedbacks so drop your comment in the comment section or reblogs.

There is no actual taglist. So, I only include those who reblogged with comments and/or commented on the previous series. However, do tell if you want or do not want to be tagged.

Taglist: @melsunshine @splendidreads @florence-end @spn-obession @my-lady-of-the-various-sorrows @buuuuuuucky @raevyng @kamaria-sweet-writes @chemtrails-club @just-another-writer-05 @touchstarvedforbuckybarnes @thezombieprostitute @wifeofbarnes @oldermenaremyreligion @bemysugarbean @thischubbydumpling @barnes1031 @winterslove1917 @barnesstanbucky @butterflyimmortality @iamfandomwasted @goldensunflowe-r

[ultraviolethypno]

hey there!

i'm ultraviolet, or uvie, or UV, or however else you'd like to call me. i'm 26, an autistic man/something, and an amateur hypnotist.

on a lark, i put a friend under for the first time late last year and at their request had them live out a series of transformation/command scenarios they'd been holding close to the chest for a while. it ended up being a great time for all involved, and i realized i quite enjoy the whole "service tist" angle of hypnosis. i figured i'd start spelunking, see who's interested, remembered that tumblr has a huge hypnokink scene, and now here we are!

safety, consent, and deference are beyond mandatory with me; they're elementary. quite frankly, they should be elementary for you too. i will work around your schedule, around your tastes, on your time. as a general rule, anything you might want to try (even the really weird specific or hardcore stuff you don't have a sideblog for) is on the table, but check with me first.

i give you my word: there will be no commands or triggers given for grimy shit (findom, unprompted trance, video recordings) unless it's been discussed. in kind, nothing i do will last beyond the end of the session unless it's been discussed.

i read all DMs as soon as physically possible and will usually get back to you within the day, but my real life obligations tend to swallow my whole day. if i don't answer, it's nothing personal!

i'm not on discord too often but just in case the name is ultraviolethypno! display name is "uvie"

ADDITIONALLY: JUST BECAUSE I HAVE FOLLOWED YOU DOES NOT MEAN I'M LOOKING FOR YOU TO BE A SUB SOMETIMES I AM JUST HANGING OUT ON THE COMPUTER. if i want a session with you i'll straight up ask.

NO-NOs

- no minors, absolutely no exceptions

- blank blogs (no avatar, no personal info, just reblogs, etc.) will likely get ignored! we're all putting ourselves out here a little for this, you should do the same.

- pictures are welcome, but let me know if they're coming!

- i have an incredibly hard time being put under and even if i didn't i still probably wouldn't want it! don't come wide with that covert shit either, i know all the tricks.

- i reserve the right to ignore any particular messages for whatever reason. don't be pushy!

- if i say no to something, that's the last word on it until i say otherwise.

there's good weird and bad weird, let's stay being the former! i can't wait to show you a good time!

[turtlebra1nrot]

Third Time's A Charm

Johnathon Ohnn (I/ATSV) x You

The first three times you met up with Johnathon for your project, they were more than pleasant. The fourth time was complete and sudden hell. And the fifth was, unexpectedly, nothing short of libidinous.

CHAPTER 1/6: PARTNERS...

A choir of groans and sighs filled the lecture hall after the professor's thoroughly voiced announcement of their new project having to be done in pairs.

"Yeah, moan and whine all you want. You're adults. You're gonna have human interaction anyway, suck it up." The professor responded sluggishly to the class's verbal distaste. You didn't particularly mind, however. In fact you'd hoped for this. Work had been piled up for you lately and you thought maybe having someone to help with a major assignment might do you some good.

Partners were selected by surname. The professor went down the roster while roving leisurely around the lecture hall at the same time. They came to a stop at the left side of the table where you were seated, looking at them expectantly. "You're withhhh— oh." The professor's tone was still laced with boredom but a hint of bewilderment seemed to weasel its way in. A few mutters left their parted lips. "...only one left? I'm sure I called of you..." their last string of words found your ear.

After more awkward silence from the class and professor, their eyes lit up. "Ah, I missed one. You." They call, swiveling at 180 degrees to lock eyes with someone else. A messy tuft of brown hair pulled into a low-ponytail shifted a bit in your field of vision. Then a pair of squared glasses and brown, doe eyes followed. "Ohnn. You're with them, alright? Alright." The professor then simply walks back to their desk at the front of the hall just as the intercom goes off, signifying the end of the class. Students exchange numbers, emails, socials — while you watch your own partner from afar.

You knew it'd be courteous to get up on your own two feet and go introduce yourself. But you waited to see if the guy'd come to you.

He didn't.

Ohnn sat there, head practically buried in his notes. You wouldn't be surprised if he was actually making out with that damn paper. But it was clear he wouldn't come to greet you any time soon. So with a twinge of exasperation, you huff — pushing yourself up from your seat — and walk over to the table in the third row while leaning your palms against its smooth oak wood.

"Hey." You spoke up. He nearly flew with the way he jumped back in surprise. Jesus, he's tense.

His brown eyes seem to almost bulge out of his head as he eyes you with shock, glasses slipping down the bridge of his straight nose unnoticeably. Despite the initial shock of his flinch, he attempted to gather a few words. Though he stumbled over his own tongue, "Wh- I — d-did you....need something?" Ohnn murmurs. It's like he wasn't used to being acknowledged or something. You let a smile fall upon your lips and stifle a chuckle, "Looks like we're partners, Ohnn."

The look on the guy's face voiced pure confusion but he did not protest. He was quiet again before shutting his college-rule notebook, "Looks like it..." he uttered feebly while seeming to give you a once-over. Johnathon could feel your eyes studying him as well in the silence and he hated it. He hadn't really been paying all that much attention during the lecture, so he unfortunately gained a partner who he hardly knew. As if he knew anyone other than his own family in the first place. The young man stood from his seat and that was when you could read him more clearly.

Johnathon seemed to fold in on himself as he stood. Arms tightly pressed to his sides, legs together, posture extremely informal, etc. Even with his stature he was like a frail dog, unable to hold eye contact for too long and keeping himself at a low profile. He seemed to make himself appear small. It made you feel kind of bad. No wonder he was so tense...

"You want my number? I'll text you my dorm and we can get started whenever, no pressure." It was like a bid with him. Convincing him to visit your place so you could both work. You could easily tell he might feel unease at the idea, so you kept it plain and simple for him. Johnathon steadily breathed in spite of his racing heart. He wasn't good with making plans with others because he'd get sidetracked and forget about them. He'd feel terrible to do that for a first impression. "Yeah, we could do that...if you'd like, that is. I don't wanna like, force you to do it o-or whatever—" "Dude. I offered. No need to worry." You try to reassure him with words and a smile. A croaky laugh left his lips as he realized he had been on the verge of an apologetic ramble, "Right. Sorry."

"You're good, Ohnn." You reaffirm your previous words. Johnathon nods whilst bending down to grasp the handle of his tote-bag, stuffing his notes carelessly inside. Once up straight (or as straight as he normally stood), he speaks again, "Hey, I don't mind being called Johnathon or John. I think Ohnn's a little formal since we're, y'know— partners?"

Johnathon looks down at the person before him with careful eyes, trying to gauge their reaction. He hoped that statement wasn't too forward. He never really knew when to keep things casual or professional so he always just assumed. God, what if that was too much for them? Did he really have to say that? Maybe they could just call him Ohnn, it's not a big deal—

"Sure thing."

Your response was simple. He hadn't gotten the stink eye like he'd thought he would. Johnathon's smile is sheepish when he clears his throat and hesitantly nods. He didn't always have conversations longer than 20 seconds. Talking with you had been a breath of fresh air for him and he couldn't tell if the churning in his belly was excitement, anxiety, or joy.

He exchanged numbers with you before departing from the lecture hall and moving onto his next class. He had a math exam that period and with the boost of morale from last period, he felt somewhat prepared.

[archivalofsins]

Hey, this isn't going to be a long post because I want to get back to playing Caligula Effect 2. However, confirmed that Double is mostly a dream with small snippets of reality while MeMe is reality with breaks into dreams. Also that the graphs we see displayed distortedly throughout Double are a polysomnography.

X X

"I’m probably just having a bad dream, I need to wake up soon." - "All I did was dream, and that’s what you found GUILTY? “He’s a liar”, you said, and made me out to be a scoundrel, why?"

So, let's talk about this for a bit.

all gifs made by @apatchworkstar

So, in Caligula Effect 2 there's a heavy focus on the meaning of the word dream. It's highlighted multiple times that a dream can be something you have at night while sleeping or refer to something you want to do in the future. So, throughout double the word dream itself even has a double meaning.

I think that when John states all he did was dream contextually he's referring to the dreams one has when they sleep. I believe this because the structure of Double as I stated before is more dream like than MeMe. Though I have another pertinent reason for believing this outside of that. Let's discuss the telltale signs of a dream displayed throughout Double first.

1. Takes place mainly in one location.

Unlike MeMe where we change locations frequently. From the underpass to the inside of their home, to the dumping area outside of their home, to their bathroom. Double is limited to the train station and the train only. Despite seeing John commuting he never makes it home or to work. He is confined to this location.

2. Seemingly endless terrains. (Never-ending passages or areas that seem to go on forever.)

3. Partial literacy or none. (Not everyone can read within dreams but those who can rarely can read the same thing twice. Instead the words will either keep changing or go blank.)

People who can read in dreams are pretty rare. They tend to be in communications based professions or writers.

CAN YOU READ IN YOUR DREAMS? SCIENCE REVEALS WHY MOST PEOPLE CAN'T

There are also other things that can't be done in dreams according to other sources.

X

That are helpful when it comes to differentiating between reality and dream in Mikoto's case. Also bringing more scrutiny to John's statements during the interrogation where he claims they attacked random strangers on the street an impossibility if it was really a dream like they both claim. We see in Double that none of the people have faces, they're all mannequins.

Since John stated he attacked some stranger it makes sense for everyone in Double to appear this way because in dreams you can't really just create a full ass person that you've never seen before. So, this makes everyone in John's version of events a stranger to him. However, you know where that's definitely not the damn case.

In MeMe where we see this guy plain as day-

As Mikoto does a very physical activity. However, this is a good time to interject- Dreams are very personalized.

Personal anecdote. I once had a dream when I was in a bookstore, and I was browsing around. I'd read a book I'd liked but I was unsure if I wanted to really commit to purchasing it but there was limited time was there with others, I had like twenty minutes at most, and I'd looked at a clock just to see what time that'd be. When I went to skim the book again it was blank. Then I looked at the clock and it was blank too. I was in high school at the time and had already looked into information around dreams and became acutely aware I was which led to a bit of lucid dreaming before I woke up. In other dreams I've been in fights, used weapons etc. even ran for a good while.

So, yeah, I've done physical activities in my dreams before, and I've seen people I know and have never known in my dreams too. It's different for everyone.

Yet, it's still valid to question-

Why would Double something primarily from John's perspective follow the rules of dreams more than Mikoto's?

If what they did was just a dream, then those rules should be applicable to both songs not just one.

It's not as though all of MeMe just shows the reality of the situation either. In fact, dream and reality are more neatly separated within their first trial song. Something that is displayed by one of those things listed. The inability to look in mirrors.

And being confined to one place regardless of how it changes over the course of the video.

So, yes there are very logical ways to discern between what is a dream and what is reality within Mikoto's trial songs. Milgram has done nothing to hide this. They even further displayed this by putting dream in large font for all to see over most of double.

Yet what's the other thing that makes me so sure that when John is discussing dreaming, he's discussing the dreams you have while sleeping and Mikoto is discussing dreams for the future?

For one Mikoto is specifically paired with the woman who sings this-

"Is the damage to get in the way of someone’s dream."- "If it damaged someone’s dream to the points of stopping it I’ll gouge you out with my fangs."

So chances are a part of the reason they were connected is because they lashed out due to someone gettting in the way of their personal goals and dreams. Yet there's also the fact he plainly fucking states what his dream was in his written trial one interrogation.

Q.04 Are you picky when it comes to fashion?

Mikoto: Of course I am. Nobody would want to ask for anything from an unfashionable designer, right?

06 What do you hate?

Mikoto: working overnight / reptiles / violence

Q.14 Where do you think you’ll be in 10 years?

Mikoto: It’d be nice if I could build up my own self-sustaining design business. That’d be pretty liberating.

"Hey now, I saved you, right? So why in the hell are you crying? Cling to me, hoist me up as your “savior”, stand up and sing out your gratitude, that’d be good."

Mikoto even uses similar verbage to that used in his first written interrogation when asked about these things in the lyrics of Double. Such as right, and that'd be good.

So, yeah there's all that.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

British here. On the afternoon of the Queen's death I was, like many people, avidly watching the TV news while being glued to Twitter. In the middle of the afternoon a strange Tweet appeared on my timeline, retweeted by several people I follow, originally Tweeted by an account with no Twitter history. It confirmed the death of the Queen and had got A LOT of traction. I myself retweeted it and rushed to tell my husband and the decorator who was working in our house at the time. When I got back to my laptop various people were saying that the Tweet was not confirmed. It was deleted soon after. I felt bad for Retweeting fake news, told my husband and the decorator it had been a hoax and thought nothing more of it. Until the time of the queen's death was confirmed. Because that Tweet would have started circulating around 15-20 mins after the Queen died. I wonder to this day if it was actually put out by someone in the know, perhaps a courtier, and then deleted because they were not ready to announce. I then wonder who would have done that, given how small and trusted the circle of people in the know was at the time. And then I wonder if it was Meghan, perhaps in retaliation for being banned from Balmoral. I am making a TON assumptions. I've gone back to my timeline to see if there is any trace of that Tweet, but timeline don't go back that far. I only really remember it because I told my husband and the decorator and then had to walk it back. But if it was Meghan it would explain A LOT of the obvious anger towards her at the funeral and the fact that neither have been trusted with any info ever since.

Reading this, I lean towards it being Meghan too. We know she was Scobie's source for Endgame and there have been very credible rumors from other solid sources that Meghan was leaking to other people in American media. But I'm not fully sold it was her who did the tweet, though I do agree -- she did something unconscionable and the BRF knew or became aware of it, and it was a major turning point for both of the Sussexes.

I'm skeptical it was a courtier. Much of what I've read about them is that they take pride in their work and they're fully aware of the sensitivities (and complexities) of the BRF being a family, a firm, and the Head of State. I don't think one of them would intentionally jump the gun to preempt the official spokesperson, knowing it would anger whichever royal they worked for. In my experience working for the US goverment, people in the know like, their first reaction isn't "I need to tweet about this," it's "who else knows." They aren't going to be the one to put it on Twitter because it will get back to them and they'll be fired by the day's end. (And of course, there are always exceptions to the rule.)

Going by my own experience with the way gossip works in the US government, I think a courtier was the source of the news behind the tweet, but he or she wasn't the person actually tweeting. How gossip works in DC is that the principals (e.g., the Representatives, Senators, Cabinet secretaries, the Directors, SCOTUS justices, etc.) are leaky to each other and their chiefs of staff/trusted aides, especially within their own party. When they talk, they talk in trusted places where the walls don't have ears (like at closed-door party conferences or in their own private offices).

The chiefs of staff and trusted aides are leaky to their peers in their own party (e.g., the staff for a Republican congressperson is leaky with the staffs of other Republicans in Congress) and their own assistants/staff. They like to talk in their own private offices.

The assistants and the staff...well, they're not usually as careful as the others higher up the chain of command. They're actually pretty careless with the information they have, and it's because either "I'm nobody and no one cares what I have to say" or "I'm nobody and I want to be somebody so I'm giving you this information so you're impressed by me." (I can't begin to tell you the things I have overheard at happy hours, at Starbucks, and on the train...)

Without knowing who the tweet is from that you saw, that's probably what happened. The courtiers knew right away, they probably began making arrangements to clear schedules and arrange travel right away, they weren't too careful in how/where/what they were saying, and someone overheard it, put it out on the web.

What is interesting though is that the tweet was deleted. That does point more arrows at it being someone who was "in" the know - a courtier, maybe one of their family members, maybe even Meghan herself. It being deleted so quickly reminds me of when KP tweeted "They used a surrogate our sincerest apologies for the reception" in February 2019 and then almost immediately it was deleted.

But going back to your point, yes. The royal family were definitely aware of something the Sussexes did because it was all over for Harry and Meghan from that point forward.

[kywaslost]

A Dangerous Moment - Newt Scamander

A/N: I’m writing this for @newtscamanderimagines because they asked for someone to write this and I absolutely love this idea! Hope it turned out alright!

Request: Reader is female (15) and she absolutely loves all of the creatures he owns. However, one day something happens. One dangerous creature attacked her making her depressed and way too sad and scared to go back in his case. Cried all month etc. Tickles for cheer up?

Newt Scamander would tell his brother that he was at first afraid to let his little sister, you, to stay with him at first. You were only a teenager, 15 years old. He didn’t know how you’d feel benign around his creatures all the time, feeding them and interacting with them. But he gave you a chance, letting you move in with him and traveling with him as long as the trip wasn’t too far.

You surprised Newt, however, during your first night at his home. After you had gone to bed, Newt placed his suitcase down on the floor in his bedroom and climbed down into the zoo that was his suitcase. But after a few hours of sleep, you felt something climb on top of you and sit on your legs. You stirred, trying to move your legs but the weight was too heavy. When you opened your eyes, you were shocked to see a creature sitting on your legs.

“Hi,” you said gently, sitting upright slowly. “You’re a Demiguise, aren’t you?” The creature looked at you with wide blue eyes, then reached its long arms out to you. You let the creature wrap its arms around your neck and legs around your waist, then you stood. Slowly you made your way to Newt’s room. “Are you Dougal?” You asked the Demiguise and it nodded softly.

Newt wasn’t in his room, but you spotted his suitcase and opened it slowly. Making your way down the ladder, you felt the Demiguise grip you a bit tighter. You reached the bottom and your eyes widened in aw. There were magical creatures everywhere. You could see an occamy nest in the distance, and a thunderbird, too.

“This is awesome!” you exclaimed.

Dougal unwrapped himself from you and fell to the ground, taking your hand in his as he dragged you through the case. You followed, looking around at all the creatures as you were making your way through the case. Soon enough, you could see your older brother feeding mooncalves, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

The wizard caught a glimpse of you through the corner of his eye, and did a double take, “Y/N? Why are you down here? You shouldn’t be here!” He abandoned the mooncalves as Dougal let go of your hand and climbed onto Newt’s back. “You could get hurt!”

Your eyes dimmed slightly, and you lost some of your smile. “I’m sorry. Dougal woke me up. I brought him back here and he led me to you.” You looked away from your brother. “I’m sorry, I’ll go back to bed. Sorry to bother you.”

You turned to walk away, but said one thing before you left. “Oh, and the Nifflers are sniffling. I noticed while Dougal brought me back here. You might want to check that out.”

“Wait.” You turned back to your brother, hair falling in your face and hiding Newt slightly. “You know what some of my creatures are?”

You moved the hair from your eyes and nodded. “I read your book, Newt. And sometimes I read articles about them.” You shrugged, turning away again. “But it’s no big deal. Just let me know if you need any help. I know a few things.”

From that night on, Newt let you work with him and his creatures. He had rules, though. He had to be with you whenever you were working with a dangerous creature, or one you didn’t know how to handle. Over time you were allowed to work with almost all of the creatures in Newt’s case, though.

You loved your new ‘job’ so much. You got to work with creatures as well as spend quality time with your brother. Everything was perfect until one night. You were feeding the nifflers before turning in for the night, having already fed the other creatures that Newt allowed you to tend to. As you were scooping handfuls of weeds and shrubs into the nifflers’ feeding bowls, your wand fell out of your pocket and rolled a few feet away. Thinking nothing of it, you got up from your kneeled position at the bucket of plants and walked over to your wand.

You noticed a hole in the ground near where your wand landed. You spared it a quick thought, noting how you didn’t remember seeing that hole there earlier. Then you kneeled down to pick up your wand.

You felt it before you saw it. A stinging pain coursing through your body, radiating from your hand. You cried out in pain, falling back on your butt as you gripped your hand to your chest. You could see a creature scurrying away out of the corner of your eye. You hadn’t ever seen it before, and you were sure you knew every creature in Newt’s case by now.

The pain quickly became too much to bear and your screaming was getting louder. You couldn’t sit up, tilting to the side and collapsing on your back. Your vision was fading, but you could hear something off in the distance. Through your faded gaze you could see Newt running towards you, then he was beside you.

You couldn’t remember much after that.

You wouldn’t go back into Newt’s case after that night. Even now, two weeks later, you haven’t even been able to look at a creature without bursting into tears and going into a panic. The only one you could stand to see was Picket, but only because you had been around him for years.

Newt was on edge, he’d admit. He wasn’t sure how to help you. He was so petrified when he heard you screaming that night. He thought you were being attacked by Grindlewald and his followers. But then, as he was running to you, he saw one of his venomous creatures running away from where he could hear you screaming.

You were pretty much out of it by the time he got to you. You were still conscious but Newt knew what creature had bit you, judging by the wound on your hand and said creature running past him earlier. There was no one attacking you, which was somewhat of a plus. But that didn’t change the fact that Newt was scared out of his mind. He knew how dangerous that creature was, and he wasn’t even sure how it had escaped its enclosure, but that was another problem for another time.

Newt had to pick you up and carry you back to the shed at the entrance of his case, quickly digging through all of his remedies and medicines to find what would help ease the pain and fight of the venom from the creature that bit you.

Once you recovered, you wouldn’t step foot anywhere near Newt’s case. To be honest, it saddened him that you no longer wanted to help him care for his creatures, but he understood why you were so afraid. The one thing he didn’t know how to handle, however, was the fact that you rarely left your room nowadays. He’d come in, bringing meals for the both of you and eating with you., but that was all he really could do. You spent a lot of time crying, he could hear it through the walls. You didn’t speak much anymore, either. Newt wasn’t sure if your actions were out of pure fear or if they were unknown side-effects from the treated venom.

He tried talking to Thesius, but his brother wasn’t much help. In fact, Thesius wasn’t happy with Newt for letting you around his creatures. In fact, he said, “Newt. This is your problem. Now you fix it.” What a beautiful brotherly support.

Eventually Newt had had enough. You needed to at least go outside and see some sunlight. You were looking worse and worse every day and he couldn’t stand seeing you like this. So one afternoon he gently knocked on your door and entered your room.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted quietly. “Can you please come outside with me? You need to see some sunlight.”

Your red puffy eyes glanced up to him. You had been crying again. “No thank you.” Newt sighed, lowering himself to sit beside you on your bed. He looked upset, and you couldn’t help but think that it was because of you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m worried about you,” Newt admitted. “I know you’re afraid of my creatures now, and that’s ok. But please, you need to take care of yourself and I’d like you to at least see some sunlight.”

You shook your head slowly. “No. There could be creatures out there.”

Newt took a moment to think, then grinned slightly. As he turned to face you, you tilted your head in confusion. “What?” His movements were too fast for you and you had no time to defend yourself. Newt pushed himself forward, forcing you to lay down on the bed as he pinned you down. Then his fingers glided over your sides, causing a loud laugh to burst out of you. You tried to push Newt off of you and he continued ‘torturing’ you but it was no use. He was much bigger and stronger than you, and you didn’t stand a chance against him.

Newt continued to tickle you until you couldn’t breathe and he was concerned you’d begin to hyperventilate. Your brother finally leaned back, giving you room to move away from him, still giggling. “Why’d you do that?” you asked through gasping breaths.

Newt smiled softly. “Because I’m tired of seeing you so upset. If you won’t go outside then maybe at least I can get you to smile here inside.”

You scooted over to sit next to your brother, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Newt. Hopefully I’ll get comfortable enough again to work with your creatures soon.”

[yjano]

All of me.

Part 2.

Pairing: Jake x Mc.

Warnings: slow burn, swearing, angst, a little fluff, smut, violence and other pairings.

Words: 4.3k

Author's note: Although this story is not related to the Duskwood game, I will add some of our beloved characters. Please read it only if you're into angst prison stories, slow burns, etc. A little hint: You will get to see some similarities to Jake and his gang from "Never The Same" fic.

My morning was hell once again. Jake got beaten up for disobeying the rules. We did our exercise routine, followed by the showering routine. Again, I got touched by hands once I closed my eyes, and the comments never stopped. Breakfast was a disaster, and for the second morning in a row, I didn't eat any of it.

I just couldn't bring myself to it. It didn't matter that I was hungry and felt like I really needed to eat something, but I refused to put the brown vomiting stuff inside my mouth. I was pretty sure I would throw it back up if I eat it, so I spared myself the trouble.

After breakfast, I was instructed to follow a group of inmates who were apparently in the same work group as me. Of course, the god of bad luck was on my side, and before I could register it properly, I stood on a counter with Jake. Both of us were in charge of folding the clothes that came out of the drier. It was a pretty easy task, and I was happy I could do something that felt at least a little like home to me.

Of course, I wasn't happy that I had to do it with my scary cellmate, but it was better than doing nothing. With my new task, at least the time went by a little faster. There weren't any comments that were thrown at me at this place, and nobody tried to touch me. Everybody was busy with their job and I was invisible here. I liked that I wasn't the center of attention and that I could just do something to make myself useful.

With great precision, I folded the clothes and everything else that came out of the drier. Pants, shirts, sheets, underwear, socks. It didn't matter to me as long I could keep myself busy and didn't have to think about everything that happened and was still happening. I looked over at Jake and saw that the other hadn't folded more than three pieces of clothing while I was already through two whole baskets of laundry.

I looked around myself, already guessing what would happen if the other didn't start with his task anytime soon. I could already feel how my heartbeat started to increase in speed, and an anxious feeling started to spread through my body.

If Jake didn't do his job, he would probably get another beating, and another beating meant that there would be commotion around me. Commotion meant attention, and the last thing I wanted was attention anywhere near me. I wanted to be invisible, and the other was making that impossible for me.

There wasn't anything I could do about it, though. I could never face the other male, I was scared to the bone of him. I didn't even dare to look at the other boy if there was any chance that Jake could detect me doing it. The only time I dared to look at the male was if his back was turned to me.

I saw how one of the officers started to make his way in our direction. With my head down and my hands busy folding the laundry, I tried to ignore the officer.

"Dalton! Is there something wrong with your hands? Why aren't you doing your job?!" The officer scolded angry at Jake, and he walked behind the counter.

I didn't dare to look at the two men next to me, but the dull sounds of someone being hit told me enough. Jake never answered the officer, and I guessed that that was one of the reasons the officer had gone off at the male. I heard the five hits Jake got, all of them getting harder than the previous one.

I swore I even heard a low grunt leaving Jake's mouth at the fifth hit. I couldn't imagine how the male was still able to collect all the hits. He was getting beaten up at least three times a day, his whole body must be sore and blue from all the hits but still Jake didn't show any weakness if another round of hits started once again.

"This is your last warning Dalton, if I come back, I expect that all of your baskets are empty and folded. If not... Well you will find out what happens if it's not done." The officer evilly laughed and walked away.

I glimpsed at the male next to me, shocked by his appearance. For five short seconds, it looked like Jake showed some weakness. He was hunched over the counter, and his breathing was heavy. His eyes were closed, and after two deep breaths, he composed himself completely. I immediately looked back in front of me to prevent myself from being caught staring and possibly ending up dead.

I folded my last laundry basket in a precise and way too neatly way. I was sure I did it way too perfect for prison standards, but I didn't care. I hated it when people did their job, not right, and even in prison, I would make sure that if I did something, I did it well. I gave Jake another glimpse, and I saw that he still wasn't much further with his baskets than before. There was something different about him this time, though.

Last time, Jake hadn't folded any because he decided not to do so. This time, he looked like he couldn't do so. Jake was clearly holding himself up with one hand, and his other was slowly folding the laundry from the basket next to him. A wave of compassion flooded my mind, and without thinking about my action, I grabbed one of Jake's baskets and started to fold the laundry that was in it.

I wasn't a bad person, and it was clear that the other needed help right now. I clearly hadn't much of a choice than to offer that help, even if it was to someone who might end up killing me. I saw how Jake looked at me for a short moment, but both of us said nothing about it. Because I was still too afraid to talk to the other and Jake because he simply didn't wanna talk to me, I suppose.

Both of us kept folding the laundry in silence, and it wasn't long before I grabbed another one of Jake's baskets and started to fold the laundry that was in there, too. I slided some of my piles with folded laundry to Jake's side of the counter so it would look like the male had folded them instead of me.

I didn't want another round of commotion around the both of us, and I was pretty sure Jake couldn't face another round. The male was already struggling to hold himself up, and occasionally, a soft grunt would leave his mouth if he made a wrong move.

Almost ten minutes later, all baskets were empty, and all the folded laundry piles were evenly divided between the two of us. I almost smiled at the sight, but I suddenly remembered where I was and with who I was, keeping me from it. I was in no position to smile. My life was still over, and I was still inside this hell of a prison with a cell mate that could kill me at any moment. I saw movement in my right eye, and the same officer as before walked up to us.

"I see that you decided to be smart for once, Dalton? I suggest you keep this up!" The man blurred at Jake, earning him a scowl from the male. He didn't say anything back, though, and I was glad he didn't. I hadn't done all this work to be part of another commotion again.

"One of you put these on the shelves over there, and the other can stand watch over the guys who control the washing machines." The officer said while he pointed from the piles of laundry to the shelves and the guys at the washing machines.

I didn't say anything to Jake, but I started to put the piles on the shelves, knowing that the other couldn't do the job at the moment. I heard a soft sigh leave the others' mouths while he slowly walked over to the washing machines and slouched against the counter over there.

I could only hope that my good deed didn't go unnoticed by my cellmate, and it would give me some more time before Jake ended up killing me. I could only hope that the other would see that I was a friendly person and that there was no reason to kill me.

I sighed and carried out my job, and almost an hour later, we all were released from our jobs for our lunch break. With our heads down and our hands in front of us, we were being escorted back to the canteen once again. I could only hope that lunch was somewhat bearable like yesterday.

It was the only meal I could eat at the moment, and judging by how my body felt at the moment, I needed it pretty bad. I could only hope that the angels were for once on my side this lunch break.

Of course, luck wasn't on my side once again. The food was somewhat okay, but the people who were surrounding me were anything except from okay. I had decided to pick a spot that looked pretty empty, but within a few minutes, I was surrounded by four gross looking guys. They weren't clearly there to make small talk with me or join me for lunch.

I knew why they were here, and it freaked me out. I didn't want anything to do with them, and the fact that two of them were way too close for my liking wasn't helping either. I could only look down at my untouched plate and hope they would leave me alone if I ignored them. My breath was heavy, and my heartbeat was going at a rapid speed. I started to shake softly, and my body filled itself with anxiety.

"Come on, princess, talk to us. We would like to get to know you before we take you to our secret spot." One of the men said while he smirked evilly at me.

The man creeped me out, I knew they only wanted me for my body, and I was feeling really uncomfortable. I felt how the man on my right slided closer to me, and a rough hand traveled up my upper leg. I immediately flinched at the feeling, darting away from the man. Only to land in the arms of the other man on my left.

I felt how the other man traveled his hands up my torso, getting way too close to my neck and face. Heavy breaths made their way out of my mouth, and tears started to form in my eyes. Why couldn't they send me to women only jail? I felt completely helpless and alone. In this moment, there was nobody in here that would rescue me from these four men, and I could only hope that the guards would see what was happening anytime soon.

"Do you wanna come with us, princes-" The man that had started to talk suddenly fell silent, and the hands that were traveling up my body left in an instant.

"Leave." Jake's voice came out of nowhere, his voice dangerously low and demanding. All four of the men did immediately what Jake told them, and within five seconds, my table was completely empty. I heard how Jake took place in front of me, and I gave him a quick glance.

Jake didn't look at me, though. He just started to eat his lunch like nothing had happened before. I slowly grabbed some of my old and almost hardened bread. I gave a quick look at the food Jake got, and a slightly jealous feeling took me over. I wanted to have what the other was having. I had no idea how Jake got what he had, but I was willing to do whatever it took to get the same kind of food he had.

I saw how Jake gave me a short look before I knew it. He threw one of his fresh breads with fried eggs onto my plate. I stared at it with big eyes, not believing what just happened. My eyes darted from Jake to his plate, and I saw how he reached out to my cup filled with some old milk.

Jake stood up with my cup, walking over to the sink, and he threw it all away. He slowly made his way back to me and sat down in front of me again. He grabbed his own cup and emptied half of it in my one. He placed the cup in front of me and grabbed hold of his own food.

"Eat."

Was the only word that left Jake's mouth, and without thinking twice, I started to devour the new food and drink. I didn't know that I could be happy with such a small thing. When I was at home, bread with eggs meant nothing to me, but here it tasted like a whole five course meal.

I loved every bite of it, and it was too soon gone for my liking. I was happy that I finally got to eat something though, my stomach immediately felt a whole lot better, and a happy sigh left my mouth. I slowly looked up at the male in front of me, I was still scared of him but not as much as I was before. Maybe the male wasn't as bad as I first thought he was. Maybe he just had a short temper.

I gave Jake a thankful look, still not feeling comfortable talking to him. Jake finished his food, and he stood up from the table. I had no idea if I should follow the male or stay seated, I didn't know what the other expected from me. Jake looked back at me, seeing that I wasn't following him.

"You coming doll face?" Jake asked as he started to leave the room, dropping his plate at the counter by the exit. I didn't need to think twice about the invitation, I would do anything to leave this room with all the creepy men. Within a few seconds, I had dropped my plate at the counter and had followed Jake outside.

Jake sat on a small stone wall out of sight of the guards. I slowly walked up to him, still somewhat afraid of the male. The fact that he shared his food with me didn't mean he wouldn't kill me. I walked up to the male and awkwardly stopped a short distance away from him. I saw how Jake lighted a cigarette, and my eyes widened at the sight.

"Don't worry, doll face, I'm allowed to smoke... Are you gonna sit down, or are you staying there the whole time?" He asked me while one of his eyebrows was raised questionably. I slowly walked up the male and placed myself next to him on the stone wall.

"You want one?" He then asked again while he held the pack of cigarettes in front of me.

"No thanks." I whispered quietly.

"Figured so, you didn't seem like the smoking type to me." Jake mumbled while he took another heave of his cigarette.

I could only look at the other in shock. I had no idea why the other was even talking to me or why he asked me to sit with him. I didn't even know why Jake helped me back in the canteen. I knew nothing about the other, and it scared me. The same guy who helped me was also the guy who killed his last cell mate, and that fact alone was enough to make me shiver with fear. I really wanted to know why the other helped me, though.

"W-why did you help me back in the canteen?" I stuttered softly. It took me all my courage just to ask that question alone.

"You helped me in the laundry, a deed for a deed. It's as simple as that." Jake answered casually while he took another heave of his cigarette.

"Anyone coming to see you tonight? Visiting hours is at seven."

I looked up at the other again, I didn't expect another question from the male beside me.

"I hope my mom comes and visits me." I answered while tears started to fill my eyes once again. It had only been two days but I had already missed my family big time. I and my family had always been close with each other, but now that one of the daughters was dead and the other was in prison, not much of the happy family was left.

Silence fell between betwne us and the both of us were occupied inside our own minds. It wasn't until twenty minutes later that an officer yelled that break time was over and we had to go back to our jobs. Both of us were shaken from our own minds. Jake and I both jumped down from the wall, and the latter looked like he was in a lot less pain than an hour before, and together, we walked back to the laundry.

I was glad I could go back to the simple task that would keep me occupied for the rest of the afternoon. Jake, on the other hand, was everything but glad. He hated the job, but he was willing to put up with it only today. He knew he couldn't take any more hits, and just for the sake of his precious body, he would keep himself under the radar. I was glad Jake kept in line for the rest of the day, and I was glad I could pretend to be invisible.

Visiting an hour was in ten minutes, and all the inmates that were expecting a visitor were allowed to go to the visiting room to wait there for their relative. I was really glad when my name was announced on the list. At least there was someone coming to visit me tonight. I could only hope it would be my mother. If there was one person on the planet I wanted to see right now, it would be her.

After the regular routine of standing in front of our cells with our heads down and our hands in front of us, the whole group was led to the visiting room. I was being one of the first ones to enter sit down in my assigned seat. My heart was beating fast in my chest and anxiety flowing in my veins. I really hoped my mother would come to see me, but I was also scared.

What if my mother had started to believe everything that had happened and was here to abandon me forever. I was already feeling pretty alone now that I was in this hell hole. I had to call home, but if my mother abandoned me too, that would be the end of me. If there was one thing I couldn't handle, it would be that. Two really long minutes had passed when the door finally opened again, revealing not the person I hoped would walk through it but one of the guards.

"Listen! Rules are pretty simple! You keep seated in your seat, no touching, keep the volume low, and when I tell you it's over, you all stand up and walk back to your cells right away without touching your visitor. Am I clear!?" The guard yelled at the group of inmates that were in the room. The room kept silent, and with an approving nod, the guard left the room again.

Another two long minutes passed by, and when the door opened again, visitors slowly walked inside the room. I couldn't be happier when I saw my mother walking through the door right behind a tall young man with dark hair. Tears immediately started to form in my and my mother's eyes and with a few quick passes my mother was in front of our table, both of us not being able to say anything except for the soft sobs that left our mouths.

"Mom..." I softly sobbed while I looked at her with tear streaked eyes and cheeks.

"It's okay, baby. Everything's gonna be okay." My mother sobbed back, clearly trying to convince herself as hard of her own words as she tried to convince me.

"I'm so sorry." I sobbed again while I furiously tried to wipe the tears away from my face. I hated that I couldn't touch my mother, I would do anything to get a hug from her right now.

My mother's hugs had always brought a form of comfort to me, and to know that I would never feel them again broke me in a million pieces. It would, from now on, always be how we were now, separated by a table or by huge prison walls and bars.

"It's okay, don't cry, Mc. Please show me your beautiful smile again." My mother pleaded with me while she tried to compose herself as well. After a full minute, I finally managed to calm myself down and show my mother my smile again at her request.

"Did you put the flowers at Sina's grave for me? The pink ones she liked so much?" I suddenly asked my mother. The fact that I was sentenced to a life in prison for killing my sister didn't mean that I didn't care about her anymore.

"Of course I did, I'm sure your sister would have liked them if she could have seen them in person." My mother said lovingly to me while she gave me a soft smile.

Our conversation carried on for a while, and I was glad there was finally someone in here who I trusted completely. Finally, a familiar face that was just here for me, someone who loved me unconditionally despite what I was here for.

My eyes wander shortly through the room, growing big once they fall on the mop of dark jet black hair two tables diagonally from me. I could see the back of Jake's head and the face of his visitor, both of them too engaged in their own conversation to notice my eyes on them. Both of them looked like they were having a really serious conversation, and by the looks of it, both were not happy with what they were discussing.

I could see Jake's shoulders tense up multiple times, and his visitor didn't look too happy either. The dark haired man's eyes looked like they were gonna shoot fire at any moment and the fact that he pressed his lips multiple times harshly together to keep himself from lashing out didn't help anymore to keep him from looking like someone that was gonna explode at any moment. I had no idea what the two were discussing, but both of them clearly weren't happy with it, and that alone fuelled my curious nature.

"5 more minutes!" The guard from earlier yelled through the room, and at the same moment, I saw how Jake's visitor slipped something under the table to Jake. He grabbed it almost invisibly and put it away in his pants. Both of them acted like nothing happened, and not a moment later, Jake's visitor stood up and left the room.

Jake now on his own started to look through the room, and I immediately snapped my head back to my mother. To say our goodbye was hard was an understatement, both I and my mother cried our eyes out and my mother had been the last to walk out of the room, telling me about a million times that I should eat properly and that everything would be alright.

"Everybody back in line! Hands in front of you and your head down!" The guard yelled at us again, and within a minute, everybody except from Jake did as we were told. Jake was once again right behind me, and I already hated the fact that I would be in the middle of the comotion once again.

"Your mom looks pretty doll face. You both got the same crying face." Jake laughed softly at me while he gave me a soft push forward. I completely ignored the comment, knowing fully well that if I would react and the guard saw it, I would get a beating as well and if there was one thing I didn't want it was getting beaten up. Of course, Jake got scolded once again for his disobedience, and after a few hits, all of us were sent back to our cells to stay there for the night.

I really didn't understand why Jake always seemed like he was looking for reasons to get beaten up by the guards. The tasks were all pretty easy, and Jake could complete them without any problem, but he always chose not to and get beaten up over it. I really didn't understand why he would want to get beatings for fun, but I decided not to ask my cellmate about it.

It wasn't my business, and I didn't wanna be part of it either. Once we arrived at our cells, I had gone straight to bed and had fallen pretty quickly asleep. This time without crying and without pissing off my cellmate. The visit from my mother had done me good so I had no reason to cry right now and also the fact that I was sure that there probably weren't any tears left inside my body after our emotional meeting.

Of course, I missed her already, but I knew that she still loved me and that she didn't hold a grudge against me for the killing of Sina. My sister that I loved dearly was now nothing more than a lifeless body in the earth now.

[rooksgambits]

ROOKSGAMBITS; this is an INDEPENDENT, SELECTIVE, and PRIVATE SHADOW DRAGON ROOK roleplaying blog. written by bean (they/she). currently most up for DRAGON AGE and BALDUR'S GATE 3 rp. VEILGUARD SPOILERS PRESENT, but i will try to remember to tag them!!!

A STUDY IN: action girl; the anti-nihilist; beware the nice ones; chaotic good; dark is not evil; haunted heroine; jeanne d'archétype; pragmatic hero; soft is not weak; we help the helpless

✑ RULES » ABOUT » VERSES » HEADCANONS » MEMES

beta editor + xkit rewritten only! rules under cut, all else on carrd.

blogroll: @atomiqueen. @heartsdefine. @rooksgambits. @thiefscant.

✒ REGULATIONS;

ONE.    MY NAME IS BEAN/BEE. they/she. nonbinary lesbian. i’m 32, neurodivergent, and a full-time grad student with two jobs (so that will take up a lot of my time & energy). I’M WHITE. in the event that i fuck up and/or swerve out of my lane, i invite my friends and followers of color (or fellow white folks who are wiser than me) to let me know. i can and will do better.

TWO.    SELECTIVE AND PRIVATE. this means i’m particular about who i follow and i will only write with mutuals. NOT SPOILER FREE. NO GODMODDING, metagaming, etc. EXCLUSIVITY IS RARE but not unheard of so you can find my mains/exclusives list here

THREE.    I USE PRIMARILY THIRD PERSON PAST OR PRESENT TENSE, though i've been experimenting with second person more. when it comes to verb tense, i'll often check to see what my partner is most comfortable using and go with that. i can do one-liners or multipara threads, but longer things will likely take a bit more time.

FOUR.    I SHIP CHEMISTRY, and i do not force ships because i’m not a monster. i definitely enjoy a good romance, but platonic and queerplatonic dynamics, rivalries, etc. are just as interesting for me to explore!

FIVE.    IF I FOLLOW YOU, IT MEANS I LIKE WHAT YOU HAVE GOIN' ON AND WOULD LOVE TO INTERACT. it doesn't have to happen immediately, just down the line! i'll give most folks at least a week to follow back (thus indicating mutual interest in writing together at some point) before unfollowing. but if i really enjoy your blog/portrayal, i may stick around as a passive follower so long as i am welcome!

SIX.    I PREFER TO BE HARDBLOCKED IF YOU NO LONGER WISH FOR ME TO FOLLOW YOU for any reason. this is so i don't assume tumblr unfollowed you for me and refollow, inadvertently crossing your boundaries. if i suspect someone has softblocked me, i will likely hardblock them myself to avoid refollowing in the future. i am generally quite liberal with the block button, as i'm serious about curating my online space.

SEVEN.    PLEASE DO: BREAK YOUR REPLIES FOR ME UP INTO SMALLER PARAGRAPHS if we write together, as my adhd makes hugelong paragraphs difficult to read; ASK ME TO TAG YOUR TRIGGERS if i’ve neglected to do so (whether i’m following you back or not); LIKE MY STARTER CALLS, send me memes, turn my meme replies into threads (if we are mutuals); SHOWER ME IN PLOT IDEAS and ooc chatter; HAVE PATIENCE with me on all of the above; FEEL FREE TO UNFOLLOW ME at any time for any reason, as i will be reserving the right to do so myself

EIGHT.    PLEASE DO NOT: USE SUBSMALL TEXT or multiple spaces between words in our threads as i find both difficult to read; UNFOLLOW/REFOLLOW to get my attention (it won’t be the kind of attention you’re hoping for); EXPECT ANY KIND OF IMMEDIACY FROM ME IC OR OOC. i love making friends via roleplay, but i’m one smol nerd just trying to have a good time and i won’t stress myself out by trying to keep up with everything at once. just know it’s not personal, and i’ll get back to you as soon as i have the energy.

NINE.    I WILL GLADLY: TAG NSFW AND TRIGGERS appropriately and accommodate those who ask to the best of my abilities (most nsfw will be tagged #usfw with images also being tagged #nsft; triggers will be tagged #trigger tw and/or #trigger cw); WELCOME LGBTQIA+ HEADCANONS; USE MY SHITPOST TAG (#blacklist for less soft nonsense.) on most of my inane ooc content so feel free to block it.

TEN.    I WILL TRY: TO REMEMBER IF YOU DON'T LIKE TO BE REBLOGGED FROM, but please note that I have ADHD and may forget. often and repeatedly. (a bit more info about this can be found here.) if being reblogged from on the reblogging website really bothers you, please feel free to block me as needed. relatedly, i don't really care if you reblog things from me that aren't in-character roleplay posts and/or headcanons. i do think it's polite to reblog a meme from the source if you don't send one in, especially if it's a headcanon meme, but i don't consider it a blockable offense.

ELEVEN.    I WILL NOT: FOLLOW BLOGS THAT DON’T HAVE ANY RULES OR GUIDELINES set up; exceptions to this are reserved for muns i already know aka those whose boundaries i’m already familiar with; FOLLOW MANY BLOGS THAT INCLUDE CHARACTERS from game of thrones and/or house of the dragon, as i’m just not comfortable having a lot of ASOIAF content on my dash; exceptions to this are typically reserved for people i already know and/or multimuse blogs that include other fandoms/muses i’m interested in

CREDITS.    icons / icons / icons / icons / icons

[clairelsonao3]

Author Ask Tag Game

Thanks to @i-can-even-burn-salad @tabswrites and @mysticstarlightduck for this tag a few weeks ago, around the time I took a break from tag games. Back on the horse, though.

1) What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

I don't really "choose" lessons or themes. They emerge. But if Good Slaves Never Break the Rules had a lesson, it's probably about The Power of Love, not only romantic love, even though it's a romance, but love for our fellow humans and love for ourselves. And the power of choosing love over hate, despite how cruelly we may have been hurt in the past -- or how we may have hurt (or perceive that we have hurt) others.

2) What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

The world of GSNBTR owes a lot to (mostly) fanfics with modern slavery AUs that I have read and enjoyed over the years. I basically took all my favorite elements from those stories, mashed them together, and threw in a few of my own unique touches. And of course, the worldbuilding has expanded from there, in many cases in much more detail than I imagined it would when I started.

3) What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person?

My two MCs both start out with their separate goals -- her to get through university and become independent, him to find his sister -- which end up merging into one singular goal (save their loved ones and defeat the villain, essentially) by the end of the story. Learning to trust and work together is part of the journey they undergo, and with their individual strengths, they end up making an incredible team. So I guess demonstrating that is what I'm trying to achieve with them.

I want to make readers feel something. It doesn't even have to be necessarily what I feel, or what I set out to make others feel. If you feel anything -- love, fear, sadness, shock, hate, disgust -- while reading this, my work here is done.

4) How many chapters is your story going to have?

At this point (I just posted Ch. 27), I suspect not more than 40, give or take. (But take this with a grain of salt; the number has already expanded several times). We are in Act III and it's outlined in detail, with may of the scenes at least partially written, but I'm just not sure how long each chapter/scene is ultimately going to be and how and where they'll be divided. I have an idea of that, but I can't decide it ahead of time; I only know when I sit down to write and edit the chapters.

5) Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original (although I'm not afraid to admit there are some fannish elements/tropes to it) and I'm posting it on Ao3! It will eventually be an ebook as well. It probably won't ever migrate over to Tumblr, unfortunately, not only because of the time and energy that would require but also because the NSFW and romance elements make it much better suited for Ao3, I feel. Also, having it in one place only allows me to gauge exactly how many people have read it and engaged with it (not that that really matters, but still!)

6) When and why did you start writing?

When? As soon as I could pick up a pencil and string together letters on a page to form words. Why? Because telling stories is in my blood (literally; my dad is also a writer).

7) Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow?

Write what you want. It sounds simple, but I spent way too many years of my writing life writing what I thought OTHER people wanted, and it almost derailed my ability to write altogether because it made me so damn miserable.

For newer writers: If you find yourself beginning a writing question with the words "Is it okay to..." or "Can I..." just stop right there. The answer is "yes."

I follow more people than just about anyone I know and I think most of them are writers; it's in the 4 digits. So I'm going to put this question aside for now and start working on a post of my favorite Tumblr writers and stories, so for future similar questions, I'll be able to direct you to that.

This one was going around a few weeks ago and IDK who's done it so OPEN TAG!

Template under the cut

1) What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

2) What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

3) What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person?

4) How many chapters is your story going to have?

5) Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

6) When and why did you start writing?

7) Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow?

[honewolf]

CARRD . AESTHETIC . MUSIC . ETC .

❝ 𝐼 manage because i have to . because I've no other way out . because i've overcome the vanity and pride of being different . i've understood that they are a pitiful defense against being different . because I've understood that the sun shines differently when something changes , but i'm not the axis of those changes . the sun shines differently , but it will continue to shine , and jumping at it with a hoe isn't going to do anything .

independent roleplay blog for geralt of rivia of the witcher series . will take influences from the witcher 3 : wild hunt , the netflix series , the comics , and the novels . ( all of which , i am still consuming ) . portrayed by aster ( they / them , white , 25 yrs ) .

temporary rules below .

*** my verses will be flip flopping around until i can establish where i'd like my main verse to be ! for now , i'm mostly writing in the beginnings of the witcher 3 : wild hunt , and / or the first season of the show . i am new to the witcher as a series and am taking my time consuming all the media , so apologies if i get anything wrong at first ! thank you for your patience ! on that note , i do not mind spoilers .

currently reading : sword of destiny .

i . i am mutuals only! please be patient with me IC and OOC . that means writing-wise, IMs, discord, asks, etc. I am not and will not always be in the mood for chatting or even writing.

ii. there is a lot of content i won't interact with for my own comfort / triggers / etc . please don't be offended if i don't follow back, as the reason could be something as simple as i don't jive with the series you write from !

iii . in regards to shipping, i am multi-ship and open to being ship - exclusive . i like to be friends with my ship partners and put a lot of work and development into my ships , and really wanna dig into what love means for geralt in different aspects of her life ( romantic or otherwise ) . i portray geralt as pansexual , demiromantic .

iv . there WILL be triggering content on this blog ! i will tag everything that I can think to tag , but if you'd like something specific tagged , please just shoot me a message ! the witcher can be pretty dark , but , i'll never purposefully try to make anyone uncomfortable . on the note of content , nsfw will be present . minors do not interact .

v . there's a classic don't be a freak criteria that i keep about my blogs , and i do not mind softblocking or hardblocking to keep myself comfortable . i respect the same vice versa .

vi . ultimately i'm here to hang out and have fun and not take things too seriously . thanks for reading , and i hope we can get to interacting soon !

[stellar-constellations]

Requests rules masterlist!

My inbox is OPEN, if you wish to request, there are certain rules!

I WILL WRITE:

Fluff

Hurt/comfort

Platonic

Female reader

G/N reader

Yanderes (whether it'd be yandere x yandere, or yandere x willing! darling) {Soon, I will post my own yandere OC's for darling's}

Gore

Blood

Girl x Girl

Boy x Girl

Dead Dove

I WILL NOT WRITE:

Big age gaps (5 years or more)

Any incest or stepcest whatsoever

Bodily fluids such as piss or scat

Pedophilia

Student x teacher

Pure angst

Smut/NSFW

Boy x Boy (I have no experience in writing this)

Sex worker or prostitution

OC's or reader's too specific (strict appearance, closed backstories with little to work with, etc) when it comes to REQUESTS, SERIES are a different story!

Polyamorous relationships

Drugs, including weed, marijuana, or any other illegal substances (alcohol is fine).

Rape/detailed descriptions of sexual assault.

More can be added if needed to. If you're not sure that I take a certain request because your category isn't on this list, feel free to request anyways! I read ALL of my requests, but I will delete those that don't follow my rules and I'll update my rulebook if necessary.

REQUESTS WILL BE WORKED ON AND UPLOADED AT ANY TIME, INCLUDING FROM DAYS TO WEEKS (I apologize but I have a life outside writing and I will not jeopardize my mental health for writing I don't get paid for).

Important: I do feel like I need to address this, but I don't accept requests that have already been done by other people. I follow tags and see the same exact requests, copied and pasted, onto other blogs and I personally just feel that it's a little disrespectful to send a request to multiple different people for the same exact thing. I could just be sensitive, but I feel like there's no point writing it if it's already been done.

I understand the requestors could potentially be looking for different takes of the request, or they could just be spamming any account looking for anyone to take their request and complete it. I'm someone who writes for myself, and I like the requests and ideas my followers give me because they're special and unique, and not like any other requests; is what I wish for it to be like.

With the exact same requests and ideas circling around, it just feels like your writing is a bit downgraded. That anyone can do better; which I'm not saying I'm the best, but I like having my work acknowledged since I take the time out of my day to complete them. It feels like your work gets placed on the back burner of other writings pertaining the same exact request or very similar to. It just feels competitive; I'm not here for first prize or fame.

Everyone writes unique. I'm not saying that all zombie AU's are all the same requests with the same ideas and such; there's different executions and many different ideas that can turn that into your own special writing. I'm saying that the exact same requests like "Short woman with purple hair and yellow eyes meets (so-so) in a coffee shop and they get each others number and hang out at Hot Topic" (I just made that up at the top of my head, I'm not trying to target anyone); then seeing that exact request, word from word, on five other blogs, just feels like you wasted your time.

Perhaps I'm just asking too much considering this is the internet, people are going to do what they want. And I kind of see myself as being a bitch saying this because I KNOW I take forever to write, I know my writing is really long in word count and in posting, that I have no posting schedule or anything. I'm sorry for that, I really do wish I had more time in the day to focus on my hobbies and this blog; but you can't just ask to stop time, now can you?

I understand you can become impatient with me, or change your mind about me writing; in that case, please just pop in my messages and say you want the request cancelled. You don't have to tell me that you're impatient or that you want someone else to do it; I won't shame you for it.

Thank you for reading. Let this be a reminder that I don't accept requests others have done. Remember, this is just my opinion and views on such topics. We don't live long enough to listen to bullshit or hate in the comments, so I'll just ignore your comment or delete it if someone is being rude because it's MY opinion, not yours. If you don't like my opinion, scroll.

[atomiqueen]

this is an INDEPENDENT, SELECTIVE, and PRIVATE rp blog for LUCY MACLEAN of amazon prime's FALLOUT tv show. written by bean. mainly show & headcanon based, as i slowly familiarize myself with the lore. oc & dupe friendly! NOT SPOILER FREE.

A STUDY IN: being neutral good in a chaotic neutral world; a variety of tv tropes (the pollyanna, action girl, martial pacifist, the golden rule, took a level in badass, the conscience, break the cutie)

✑ CARRD » ABOUT » HEADCANONS » MEMES

beta editor + xkit rewritten only! rules under the cut; everything else on carrd.

wandering the wasteland with: @radiaking

blogroll: @atomiqueen. @heartsdefine. @rooksgambits. @thiefscant.

✒ RULES & GUIDELINES;

GENERAL: SELECTIVE AND PRIVATE. this means i’m particular about who i follow and i will only write with mutuals. my blog is semi-iconless (depending on the muse/if i feel like making icons or not). NOT SPOILER FREE. NO GODMODDING, metagaming, etc. EXCLUSIVITY IS RARE but not unheard of so you can find my mains/exclusives list here

WRITING: I USE PRIMARILY THIRD PERSON PAST OR PRESENT TENSE. i'm not entirely comfortable roleplaying in first or second person (yet). when it comes to verb tense, i'll often check to see what my partner is most comfortable using and go with that. i can do one-liners or multipara threads, but longer things will likely take a bit more time.

SHIPPING: I SHIP CHEMISTRY, and i do not force ships because i’m not a monster. i definitely enjoy a good romance, but platonic and queerplatonic dynamics, rivalries, etc. are just as interesting to explore!

FOLLOWING/UNFOLLOWING: IF I FOLLOW YOU, IT MEANS I LIKE WHAT YOU HAVE GOIN' ON AND WOULD LOVE TO INTERACT. it doesn't have to happen immediately, just down the line! i'll give most folks at least a week to follow back (thus indicating mutual interest in writing together at some point) before unfollowing. but if i really enjoy your blog/portrayal, i may stick around as a passive follower so long as i am welcome!

BLOCKING: I PREFER TO BE HARDBLOCKED IF YOU NO LONGER WISH FOR ME TO FOLLOW YOU for any reason. this is so i don't assume tumblr unfollowed you for me and refollow, inadvertently crossing your boundaries. if i suspect someone has softblocked me, i will likely hardblock them myself to avoid refollowing in the future. (i am generally quite liberal with the block button, as i'm serious about curating my online space.)

PLEASE DO: BREAK YOUR REPLIES FOR ME UP INTO SMALLER PARAGRAPHS if we write together, as my adhd makes hugelong paragraphs difficult to read; ASK ME TO TAG YOUR TRIGGERS if i’ve neglected to do so (whether i’m following you back or not); like my starter calls, SEND ME MEMES, turn my meme replies into threads (if we are mutuals); SHOWER ME IN PLOT IDEAS and ooc chatter; HAVE PATIENCE with me on all of the above; FEEL FREE TO UNFOLLOW ME at any time for any reason, as i will be reserving the right to do so myself 

PLEASE DO NOT: USE SUBSMALL TEXT or multiple spaces between words in our threads as i find both difficult to read; UNFOLLOW/REFOLLOW to get my attention (it won’t be the kind of attention you’re hoping for); EXPECT ANY KIND OF IMMEDIACY FROM ME IC OR OOC. i love making friends via roleplay, but i’m one smol nerd just trying to have a good time and i won’t stress myself out by trying to keep up with everything at once. just know it’s not personal, and i’ll get back to you as soon as i have the energy.

I WILL GLADLY: TAG NSFW AND TRIGGERS appropriately and accommodate those who ask to the best of my abilities; WELCOME LGBTQIA+ HEADCANONS; USE MY SHITPOST TAG (#blacklist for less soft nonsense.) on most of my inane ooc content so feel free to block it, that’s why it’s there

I WILL TRY: TO REMEMBER IF YOU DON’T LIKE TO BE REBLOGGED FROM, but please note that I have ADHD and may forget. Often and repeatedly. (A bit more info about this can be found here.) If being reblogged from on the reblogging website really bothers you, please feel free to soft/block me as needed. Relatedly, I don’t really care if you reblog things from me that aren’t in-character roleplay posts and/or headcanons. I do think it’s polite to reblog a meme from the source if you don’t send one in, but I don’t personally consider it a blockable offense.

I WILL NOT: FOLLOW BLOGS THAT DON’T HAVE ANY RULES OR GUIDELINES set up; exceptions to this are reserved for muns i already know aka those whose boundaries i’m already familiar with; FOLLOW VERY MANY BLOGS THAT INCLUDE CHARACTERS from game of thrones and/or house of the dragon, as i’m just not comfortable having a lot of ASOIAF content on my dash; exceptions to this are typically reserved for people i already know and/or multimuse blogs that include other fandoms/muses i’m interested in 

MUNDANE: MY NAME IS BEAN/BEE. they/she. nonbinary lesbian. i’m 32, neurodivergent, and a full-time grad student with two jobs. I’M WHITE. in the event that i fuck up and/or swerve out of my lane, i invite my friends and followers of color (or fellow white folks who are wiser than me) to let me know. i can and will do better.

CREDITS: banner, promo, psd

[xo-lesserafim]

FIXING CUPID’s BROKEN HEART

sunghoon long fic

synopsis: Many generations ago, Park Sunghoon’s family were the first ever Anti-Cupid, always causing people to get their heart’s broken. The Parks have 2 rules they must always follow. 1, always stay in their disguise when around mortals, and 2, stay away from their enemies, Cupids and to never engage or worse, fall in love. On February 14, a day full of love and the day where So Y/N, the daughter of the Cupids, had her heart-broken. Having a change of heart for a bit, Sunghoon goes to comfort her, later realizing who he engaged with.

In which Anti-Cupid’s child, accidentally breaks the most important rule his family has, and instead of break a heart, fix a heart (and fall in love)

( very important note, so when i mean like staying in disguise, he has to hide his wings and stuff etc!)

cupid’s match — anti-cupid!enemy!sunghoon x fem!cupid!reader

cupid’s disclaimer — bad jokes/humor, swearing but not ( like fxck to fudge, etc) arguments more to add🤗

cupid’s allies — enhypen, 04 of Ive, Hyujin of stray kids more to add

cupids making – 082523

cupid’s words — 623 for teaser

cupid’s note — WOOO THE TEASER EVERYONE PARTY! idk when imma release the whole thing tho. But i hope soon!

Before you read, and sunghoon’s way to say love around his family is hate “ like i hate you too mom!” and you might be confused on how Sunghoon's parents fell in love if they’re anti-cupids, they broke each-other's hearts. Send an ask if you want more info

back to masterlist

back to enha masterlist

“Sunghoon! What do I always tell you,” his mom yelled. “Always to stay in disguise around mortals, and to never engage with Cupid’s,” he replied, groaning. “Always keep it in your head dear,” Mrs. Park said, smiling. “Anyways, hurry up now, we wouldn’t want you to be late.” “Alright mom,” he said, hurrying up to get his shoes on, slowly tying them. “I’m on my way mom, I hate(love) you,” heading out the door. “Hate you too! Breaks some hearts today.”

February 14, the day he and his family hated. All the love in the air, he wanted it to burn to the ground. “Always try to discreetly ruin a confession,” he reminded himself. He could feel that this year will be the year where there will be many confessions he had to ruin.

He walked into Belift High, disgusted by all the hearts, and all the lovey-dovey stuff, he pushed through it. He noticed you, a huge Valentines enthusiast (and it was your birthday). He just ignored everyone until his best friends, Jay and Jake called for him.

“Happy Valenti-” Jake said as Sunghoon was walking to them. “No,” he replied. He hated those words. “You know how much I hate those words guys.” “If I could, I would delete those words from the dictionary!” “I would ev-.” He almost said as the bell rang. “Dang, whatever but you guys know what I would say.” He said. “Even bring them to a fire world.” Jake and Jay said in sync, walking to their classes.

Y/n’s pov.

“Finally! Class is done, and I get to ask him out!” You thought, excitedly. Hwang Hyunjin. The popular boy of grade grade no, the entire school. Today was the day where you’ll confess to him. You’ve guys grown closer from a project in a class, and you think he actually likes you! I mean you’ve seen glances, and he’s given compliments many times before! You actually think you don’t need to use your arrows or love potions!

You meet up with your friends outside. “Today’s the day huh?” Rei asks. “Obviously! I planned out how this will go. It will go perfectly!” You said excitedly. “Well good luck girl!” Wonyoung said, cheerfully. “And you have to let us know what happens.” Liz adds. “Of course, I would tell you guys everything.” You said. “Oh it’s time to meet him! I’ll see you guys later!”

Hearing Good Lucks and Bye’s while waving at them, you feel confident, but oh how it will go horribly wrong.

“Hyunjin!” You said waving, walking into the cute cafe you’d talk about a lot to him. “Hey YN!” He said, waving. Gosh he is so cute! “Happy Valentine's Day Hyunjin.” You said. “Happy Valentines Day YN” he replied back, smiling. “Here I got you your regular.” He said, giving you your drink. He even remembered your drink order! “Do you know why I wanted to talk to you?’ You ask. “Tell me why.” He says. “I like you Hyunjin.” Silence overcame between. “What?” He asks. “I like you Hyunjin, ever since 6th-,” “I’m sorry but I don’t feel the same.” “What?” “I like Wonyoung…” You and Silence became one person for a bit. “That’s okay!” You said,checking your phone. “Oh, um I have to go tho. But don’t worry! It's completely chill with me.” Paying for your stuff, and dashing out, running to the park nearby.

Walking nearby, Sunghoon saw you run out the cafe, curious about the recent event he ran after you. Seeing you on a bench, crying so hard, he sat by you.

“Are you okay?” Looked up at him.

“Why is he asking me if I’m okay?!”

“Why am I asking her if she’s okay?!”

t.list : @wonfied @misokei @cherrysvng @sobun1est @sureogi

send an ask or comment to be added!

Copyrights © 2023 xo-lesserafim. All rights reserved. do not copy, translate, or repost anything without my permission.