#basically it’s great until you’re alone in the dark

[icouldbeaduck]

hyperphantasia is great until i’m trying to sleep and a tiny foxy won’t stop doing orange justice in the corner of my brain

[leyavo]

| I am my father's daughter |

💖 Dad!price x daughter!reader

| Part One |

Summary: John Price gets an angry voicemail from his ex-wife saying how his twenty year old daughter took off. He doesn’t know what he’s more angry at, the fact his ex-wife’s complaining about rent money or that you took off with her leather jacket.

But he’s going to get another call…

TW: Hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/comfort | a little bit of 141 in here too at the end/complicated father-daughter relationship

🔈Readers view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

[Series Masterlist] This was longer than I planned too 2980 words.

John and his ex-wife were both sixteen when they had you. Price later joined the military and your mother cheated on him many times as you grew up.

You were the one to break it to your dad, but in your spite for your mother you ended up hurting him.

There were a few years you didn’t see your dad, your mother upheaving your life whenever she fell in love with a new guy. It never lasted long though, forced to stay in a hotel when things went south until she found a new place. The cycle would repeat.

The father daughter relationship was strained till he got married again and your now step mum stepped in to get you back in his life. The younger brother you never heard of and the wedding your mum had never told you about, let alone the divorce. She’d also been spending the money your dad gave her that was meant for you.

You visited your dad every now and then, but it was difficult with his job and you having school.

Fast forward to you being twenty and you leave with the first guy that can get you out of your mums house. She’s never forgiven you for telling your dad about her affairs. Easy money, she said being with a military man who rarely came home.

Things don’t seem to work out for you though, they never do. You’re sobbing whilst you clutched onto your phone, hoping your dad will answer your call.

You know when you can reach out to him, he still messaged you when he’s going dark on his missions and won’t be with his phone. Followed by a short text when he’s finished, a standard one that you don’t reply to anymore.

He does answer, the one person who always seems to pick up your call. Even though you haven’t spoken to him in months. Even though you’ve ignored his name lighting up your phone screen.

“Hey, kiddo.” His voice soft and low, you didn’t deserve his kindness. Part of you expected him to shout down the phone, but he just carried on talking to you. “You looking after yourself kid?”

“Yeah dad,” you said, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your hoody. Half a lie, tonight was the first time in ages you’d looked after yourself in the right way. No making excuses for his actions and convincing yourself it was your fault.

He hummed, music cutting off in the background as he shushed whoever was with him.

“Good to hear your voice,” you said, wanting to fill the silence. It’s like being a kid again and finally getting through to him whilst he’s at the military base, to hear him and know he’s there.

“What you doing?”

A smile tugged your lips, anything to keep you on the phone. “I’m waiting for the bus,” you said, forgetting how late it was and the fact you’d missed the last one of the night.

“On your own?”

The wind whipped through the flimsy bus shelter, your bag held on your lap for extra warmth. “Yeah, I’m a big girl now dad.”

Your mind wandered back to the basic self defence moves he’d taught you at sixteen and how when it mattered most you froze instead of fighting. What would the captain think of you?

The captain, a role he slipped back into when he didn’t know how to be there for you. Spoke to you as if he were training a fragile new recruit, measured words and slight pauses keeping him safe.

The man who told you to do anything, but be backed into a corner or made to feel small.

Small, exactly how you felt clinging onto your dad’s call. “I know you are, don’t need your old man no more eh, now that you’re grown.”

At times like this, you wished your dad would drop the tough act and baby you. He always treated you like an adult, even when you were a kid. Gave you a routine, a choice when it came to discipline, knowing that you’d rather do chores than get grounded. The captain never punishing you physically or raising his voice like your mum did. She was a whole different person when your dad went back to work for months on end.

“You still there kid?”

Tears streamed down your face, your cheeks burning in the bitter cold. “I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed, twisting the cuff of your sleeve in your hold.

You’d made such a mess. There was no way you’d go back to your mum’s and you knew that asking your dad for help wouldn’t be fair on your younger brother.

“Hey, hey kiddo. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Classic captain saying whatever you want to hear, like your someone as brave as him.

You wanted him, but couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. “Are you home?” Part of you hoping he’d say no, so that you don’t have to burden him with your problems.

“Nah, down south at the base,” he said, pausing and there’s a scuffle behind the speaker before he’s talking again. “Just me though, didn’t want to pull boyo out of school. Exams and that.” Your brother, ten years younger than you.

“Makes sense,” you sniffled, nodding as if he can see you. “I’m sorry I called so late.” Your throat burnt, nose sore from wiping it on your dad’s old hanky. Something you kept for comfort, a reminder of him. A little cigar stitched into the off white fabric.

“Don’t be sorry,” he snapped, the no nonsense captain sounding more like a man of military than your dad. “You’re okay though, that’s why you called. To check in with your old man? Well we’re all good kid, you and me don’t you worry.”

The first time talking to him since you sent him that written letter. The one where you apologised for tearing the family apart, for hurting him.

“Why can’t you just be my dad?”

There’s a clink of his phone on the other side, as if he’s dropped it. A deep breath filtering through the speaker as he exhales.

“What do you need?”

“I need you, I need my dad. Everything is so screwed up, I’m looking at this bus chart randomly picking a place or getting on the first one that shows up.” You rambled on, the weight on your chest less now that you’ve released the suppressed anger and frustration.

“Send me your location. You know how to do that, right?”

You can’t help, but chuckle at his response. Of course you know, your dad taught you how and frequently scolded you to turn it back on so he would know you’re safe. You hadn’t shared anything with him in months, your finger hovering over the button.

“Please, don’t send mum…”

“I’m on my way kiddo, an hour and a half tops. There any places you can sit inside whilst you wait?”

You don’t bother glancing around, the small street turning is far enough away from the main road. From experience you walked as long as you could, taking whatever path and ending up at a lone bus shelter. If your boyfriend drove around he wouldn’t be able to find you tucked away in a quiet road with newly built houses.

He stayed with you on the phone, giving you the colour and number plate of the car he’d be in when he arrived. You don’t have an interest in cars so the make and model goes over your head, your focus on the number plate instead.

True to his word the car rolled up by the bus stop and he’s out before it stopped.

Your hesitant steps halted as he too stopped in his tracks. His gaze falling on your split lip and blood clumped in your brow and hairline. His head turned to the side, hands shoved his pockets.

“I’m sorry, I know…” you don’t get to finish your sentence, his arms wrapping around you and your face smushing into his chest.

Pulling away from his embrace, the rain pelted down on you. He swept your wet hair out your eyes, hands framing your face as he tilted it up to look at you properly. The pad of his thumb brushed against your jawline, so close to the cut on your lip, but he didn’t touch it.

“Why don’t we get out this rain,” he said, his touch slipping from your face to scoop up your hand in his much larger one.

You don’t move with him though, stumbling towards him as you tried to tug him back. “Where are we going?” You asked, eyeing the man behind the steering wheel. There’s no way you’d go back to your mums, you’d rather wait for the bus or go back to your ex.

John smoothed his moustache, his gaze following yours to the car. “Back to the base, got a place there with my team. That okay, kid? Or there some where else you want me to take you?”

Nodding, you let him guide you to the car and open the back door. You slid in, followed by your dad who shrugged off his jacket and draped it over you. Shifting in your seat, you leant your head against the cold window and clutched the warm jacket around you closer.

“You hungry, can stop off before we go back to base,” John said, his elbow leaning on your bag on the seat between you and him.

“No, just tired,” you mumbled into his jacket. The burnt cigar and gunpowder still lingering on the fabric, like he’d smoked on the journey here.

His voice turned to a distance mumble, your eyes heavy as you let sleep take you. Your dad’s hand resting on top of yours, as if he’s trying to tell himself you’re really here.

The sun peeking through the half shut blinds woke you a few hours later. You turned over in the bed, watching your dad’s chest rise and fall beside you. His hulking form taking up most of the bed, you could feel the heat radiating off him. Even in his sleep, the line between his brows remained.

You can’t believe you called your dad, don’t even remember getting out of the car. He must have carried you in and put you to bed.

He still slept with one hand on his chest, dog tags hidden underneath his T-shirt, but you could still see the outline of them near his shoulder. Nicks and scrapes curved his bicep, you’d never seen them before. Red angry marks and faded ones of pink he normally hid under long sleeves.

The bedroom like every other base you’d stayed in whenever you visited him growing up on weekends here and there. White walls, cold wood beneath your fuzzy socks as your feet padded across the floor. Nothing but a box with a bed in the middle and small drawers either side.

You caught your reflection in the mirror, tracing the medical tape above your brow. The red stains that once clung to your hairline and forehead were clean, a purple bruise forming in its place.

Picking your hold-all from the floor, you slipped it over your shoulder and pressed your ear against the door. You couldn’t pick up any noise outside, just your dad’s low snores filling the bedroom. Probably from all those cigars he’d been smoking.

The alarm clock on the beside drawer flashed eight, thirty seven. You wanted to crawl back under the covers and sleep for another five hours, but you didn’t fancy having the conversation with your dad. How everything would unravel and lead him to finding out why you chose to leave with your boyfriend, like there was no other option. Because there wasn’t.

You pushed the door open, regretting the action as your eyes fell on the man at the kitchen table. His broad shoulders shifting at the sound of your footsteps.

There’s no use sneaking out the house, not when a team of highly trained men are living under one roof. That and the security surrounding the place.

Simon Riley, the masked driver who hadn’t said a word to you. Now you know why he covered up, the scar on his jawline lead to the neck line of his t-shirt. You tried not to stare too long, your gaze flitting to the sweater hugging his muscular arms. He could crush you in a second.

“You’ll have to wait for your old man to sign you out of the base,” Simon said through a mouth full of cereal. “Cuppa on the side for you, heard you moving about.” He pointed to the counter behind you, steam still rising from the kettle next to it.

Of course he did, probably been waiting to catch you sneaking out. Loyal to their captain the lot of them. You walked over to the small kitchenette and grabbed the strong brewed tea.

The front door opened, another guy walking through the porch and kicking his trainers off. Sweat clung to his body, T-shirt like a second skin on his visible six pack beneath. You couldn’t stop staring till he opened his mouth. Thick Scottish accent as he spoke to himself, plucking his headphones out of his ears.

He looked around your age or slightly older, not as rough and rugged as Simon or your dad. You cringed at the comparison, not wanting to think of dad as being desirable to other women.

“Ah you must be the captains daughter,” he said, reaching around you to grab a protein bar on the side. “I’m Soap,” he chuckled as your brows furrowed. “Johnny, Soaps my call sign.”

“Well that’s unfortunate,” you mumbled, sitting down at the at the table opposite Simon. Hot cup nestled between your hands. “That to remind you to have a wash?”

You edged back in your seat, the stench of sweat hitting you as Soap walked closer.

Simon’s narrowed gaze flitted from Soap to you, but he didn’t say anything. His spoon clinking the bottom of his bowl as he tried to scoop up the last remnants of cereal. If you didn’t know any better he was rushing.

“What’s yours? Hawk, no… Hulk?” Your focus darted back to Simon, anything to distract you from the hot, but sweaty guy out of the corner of your eye.

He didn’t entertain your curiosity, his chair scraping back as he collected his bowl and dumped it into the dishwasher. Soap’s deep laugh rumbled beside you, shaking his Mohawk head and disappearing down the hallway.

You found yourself leaning to one side, trying to catch a glimmer of Soaps back as he peeled his T-shirt off. John Price, however blocked the way, your back shooting back against the chair.

Simon shared a brief look with your dad, clapping him on the shoulder as he too retreated from the room.

“Damned thing keeps beeping,” John said, dropping your phone on the table. “Can’t answer it, the screen’s cracked to shit,” he grumbled, rubbing his tired eyes as he dragged his feet to the kitchen and made himself a black coffee.

Classic captain.

You stared at the cracked screen, a chain of texts and missed calls from your ex. It beeped again, your mother’s name lighting the screen.

“You gonna tell me what that’s all about?” John said leaning back in his seat, his cup of coffee balancing on his knee instead of the table. His seat at the top of the table right next to you, his knee nudging yours.

The cup in your hand no long gave you that biting sting, the tea turning cold under your stare. “Things just got bad and I can’t go back to mums.” You shrugged it off like it was no big deal, not daring to meet your dad’s eyes.

“Boyfriend?” He said pointing to your face. You nodded, wishing you hadn’t as the pounding in your head grew stronger.

He peeled your left hand away from your mug. “Where did you hit him?” He asked tracing the broken skin of your knuckles. Nothing got by the captain.

“I think I broke his nose,” you mumbled, head dipping to stare at your lap and the pattern pj trousers.

The captains head bopped up and down. “That’s good, I take it he’s alright if he’s contacting you.” He might as well have asked if he was breathing.

“How is that good?” You snapped, ripping your hand from him and pushing your chair back with you.

“You were defending yourself kid, look at ya!” His booming voice startled you, his hand flinging to your face as if you needed a reminder.

On instinct you flinched at his abrupt movement. Your body freezing and eyes clamping shut.

You opened your eyes, Simon talking in hushed tones to your dad. The captain staring at you, glassy eyed and frown tugging his lips down. And once again you’ve hurt your dad, made him feel bad.

“Why don’t we get Toff, to check her over. Another women might make her more comfortable?"

They weren't even talking to you, but about you. Too consumed with a plan than you moving. "Check yourselves over," you said, snatching your bag from the floor and rushing to the porch.

The door close, but you were yanked back by the strap of your bag. You wanted to lean towards the door, anything to escape the horror of your fuck up. One flinch and you knew, the captain was questioning everything in your life that would cause you to react like that.

"One check up, if you want to leave after I'll sign you out. No questions asked," John pleaded, knuckles turning white as they tightened around the strap of your bag.

"Okay."

[Part two]

Not me thinking about Price’s daughter and Soap 😅 I think he’s the youngest out of all of them? Mid twenties. This was also a lot longer than I planned, I just kept writing more. Huge possibility there are errors as I'm dyslexic and I'm writing for fun.

👀 Do you want another part??? - Leya

[seungfl0wer]

*Movies an Enimies?*

Paring: Hyunjin x Reader (fem)

Genre: Pure Smut

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, public sex, Cream Pie, Fem oral, slight choking? Unprotected sex

This may not be suitable for everyone, this is your last warning.

I fully indulged in this one. It just kinda flowed out, I really hope yall enjoy it as much as I did.

Heading to the movie theater, slightly bummed that your friend ditched you for some new man of hers. You weren’t just gonna miss the movie you’ve been waiting to come out just because she wasn’t gonna come. Did you feel a bit embarrassed going to the movies by yourself? Of course, even more so when the guy doing the tickets said “oh only one?”

Lucky for you when you walked into the movie theater you were the only one. No one else in sight, you picked your seat in the many rows and got comfy. Only for a few minutes later to hear the door swing open. Whoever the guy was that came through was talking loudly on his phone arguing with someone. Then it clicked in, you knew that voice and then it sank in. It couldn’t be, not him not when there’s no one else here. Lo and behold it was definitely him. Hyunjin. The annoying guy who you went to high school with and now have to put up with because he snuck his way into a friendship with your bestie.

Did you hate this man? Well hates a strong word. Did you maybe wanna punch him in the face? Yeah, yeah you did. He’s just always gave off that Im a pretty fuck boy I can do what I want vibe. It irritated you so much but you knew it irritated him even more that you didn’t give him the time of day.

What you made out while not so ease dropping since he was talking so loud was, his date bailed and now he was here alone. He sighed as he hung up slumping into a seat in the back. He kicked his feet up onto the chair in front of him getting comfy as you sunk down as much as you could trying not to let him see you. Please don’t see me is all your mind could think until of fucking course you dropped your cellphone on the ground. You just kinda froze, closing your eyes hoping he didn’t hear that. As you grabbed for you coming back up to sit you’re met with those eyes of his. Piercing through you your heart just thudding.

“Y/n? Ah yeah you being here alone would make sense since you don’t have friends to go out with” he hissed a grin spreading across his face. You wanted nothing more than just to sock him a good one. Just once.

“Yeah? At least I wasn’t stood up” you retort rolling your eyes, you slumped back into your seat hoping nothing more than that he would just leave. But of course not. Why would he? He hopped over the seat beside you, he just kinda stared at you eyes studding your face. You didn’t know what to do your eyes stared back but your heart wanted you to break it up before it exploded.

“So we watching this together or what?” He said bluntly raising an eyebrow. You looked almost confused but blurted out “we kinda have to we are the only ones here dumbass.” He chucked a bit to himself taking your hand quickly before you could protest “great come back here with me.” he said getting up basically dragging you along with him to the way back in the corner.

You groaned “why do I need to be back here with you?” You hissed. You were in a perfect spot why’d you have to move for him? He just smiled and said “oh hush just stay here.” You were gonna say something back but the movie had finally started and you weren’t about to miss it. You slouched into the seat next to him.

Not even 30 minutes in before hyunjin is already wrapping his arm around you. You turn your head to the man but it’s kinda hard to see him but what you can make out is his eyes. His eyes look dark, his plush lips parted slightly. It felt like he was taking your clothes off with his eyes. And truthfully that was tame for what he was thinking off.

Hyunjin moves his body, basically hovering over you his eyes beaming down at you. You couldn’t move, your brain wasn’t responding and your dumb heart was just pounding out your chest. “Y/n you know you’re just so beautiful” he said his words coming out soft but hot. He leaned down to you only inches from your lips “tell me to stop if you want me to and I will” he said giving you a second to protest before kissing you hard. His lips smashed into yours, your eyes fluttered you felt like you could just melt there.

He quickly moved down you kneeling down head kissing your thighs. Your mind finally unfroze remembering you were in public, “wait” you said softly. And he did. He instantly stopped what he was doing staring up at you “what’s wrong?” He said cocking his head to the side. “What if someone” you said before he cut you off. “Y/n I worked here before you can’t see anything in this corner don’t worry” he said his grin creeping up his face “may i continue?” He said pecking your thigh once again. You sigh nodding your head.

Were you really about to do this, not just in public but with hyunjin too? Before you could even think about any of it Hyunjin was pulling your shorts down and panties down. He struggled for a second with your button which made you giggle a little.

Quickly as he got them off he dove his head into your heat. The moan you both let out was almost in harmony. His tongue lavishing at your entrance, he pushed a few fingers into your cunt his tongue now nipping at your clit. You were grabbing at anything you could gripping his hair which only pushed head closer to your soaked cunt. He seemed to enjoy you pulling his hair leaving at soft muffled moans against your folds.

You felt your high coming and it was coming fast. Your thighs started to jolt and close only to have Hyun moan even more. If this is how good he was at just eating you out you didn’t think you could even handle him fucking you. Hyuns finger picked up there pace arching inside you, his hands gripping tightly to your thigh sure to leave marks but god did it feel so so good.

“Hyunjin- I’m-“ you didn’t even get the words out before you came around his fingers. He quickly licked you like a starving animal, cleaning the mess he made of you. You wanna talk about pussy drunk? Man was full on gone from eating you out.

He whipped his mouth off before crashing his lips to yours fumbling to pull his pants down. He sat in the seat beside you again still trying to catch his breath. He patted his lap motioning for you to come take your seat. Your legs were still a bit weak you faced the screen grabbing his cock you slid it up and down your fold rewarding you a groan from the beautiful man below you.

You teased him for a few minutes before he let out a low almost growl “you either sit or I’ll pull you down baby” he said taking your hair in his hand. God did he ever sound so fucking hot. Honestly you couldn’t wait anymore yourself so you slowly sank yourself into him. His cock filled you so well, you both sat there for a few seconds it just feeling to good, before you started to move. He placed a hand on your hip digging his nails back into you, his free hand moved to play with your already sensitive clit.

As you road him the movie drowned out most of your sounds but you both could hear yourselves. He could hear all your beautiful moans, the way you said his name the way your words got stuck in your throat. His groans filling your ears making you closer to the climax again. He pulled you back to him wanting your body against his he bright a hand up to play with your nipples the other hand now around you neck. He peppered sloppy kisses on your cheek whispering in your ear how good you feel.

“Y/n I hope you know how much I’ve thought of this” he said his voice so hot so attractive. “You think of me a lot” you stutter out a small smug grin comes across you face. He laughs to himself a bit “you’d have to be dumb to not see how much I’ve always wanted you” he says stopping your hips. You whine as he stops the movement which makes him laugh more.

He lifts you up, wanting you to turn to face him “I wanna see your face when I make you come on my cock” he says in the most sinful voice. You felt like you coulda just came there and then. He quickly take your thrown seat but this time you sink down fast wanting to feel him again. He quickly grabs your hips before thrusting into you. He felt so good so so fucking good the way his cock just felt like it belonged, like you were made just for him.

He pounded away at you the theater now full of the sounds of you two. Skin smacking, moans, groans and his name. You both were coming undone so fast. He sloppily kissed you pushing his tongue into your mouth to memorize how good you taste. His hand back around your neck softly chocking you. Everything just felt like a dream. A great dream.

“Hyun-gonna-c-cum” you choked out as your high was reaching fast. He nodded “me too” he said trying to catch his breath before following up with “can I cum inside you?” He asked. Not skipping a beat you nodded leaning down to him “cum- cum deep- fill me please” you basically begged. Your words unlocked something in him, his movements were somehow more powerful, deeper even. He gripped your throat making you look at him as both your highs washed over. His cock twitching so deep inside you, feeling all of him release. It felt like you could just die it felt so good you can’t even describe it.

A few minutes passed as you both try to catch your breath, hyun handing you his water and you just chugged that bitch. He smiled chucking at you. He brushed some hair away from your face before kissing your nose. “So- we didn’t get to watch the movie” he said laughing even more.

You laughed along “well someone had other ideas” you teased. You slowly got up feeling all of him starting to drip down. “This just means we’ll have to come back on our second date” he said pulling his pants up smiling as he looked at you. “How about a real first date first” you said back staring him down. “Fine fine but only if I get to tell people your my girlfriend” he said in a hum taking your hand in his. You nod yes “fine I guess it’s a deal.” You said watching the biggest smile come across his face.

You and hyunjin? You’re gonna get bullied endlessly from your bestie about this.

��� if you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open feel free to send me something🩵

[kamaluhkhan]

COMPLICATED

LUST — part iv of we'll write sins not tragedies

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis! reader (afab) word count: 8.9k summary: the lives of demigods are never simple. why would your relationship with luke be any different? or: four moments of tension + one moment of release. featuring a trip to montauk with percy, grover, and annabeth warnings: a decent amount of reader backstory (mention of dad having cancer); multiple POVs (percy, grover, annabeth, luke, reader - obv nothing suggestive/smutty until luke and reader POV); luke + reader get into arguments and are v stressed so their relationship is a bit strained; reader has tattoos; reader is on birth control; rough smut (protected + unprotected p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, slight breeding kink, etc...); also slight dark + possessive luke! (18 + MDNI); major angst — we all know how this story ends ;( author's note: this was meant to be a blurb but...here we are! this is basically another chapter of my spill ur guts series lol. i've been gone for much longer than i planned to, but hope u enjoy possibly the angstiest, smuttiest thing i've written so far ♡

♪ "complicated" by avril lavigne

i. 

in the span of a few minutes, percy went from pure joy — being greeted with cheers from all the campers was great, sure, but truthfully the hug from annabeth alone sent him to elysium — to feeling like his heart dropped all the way to tartarus.

which is definitely not a place percy ever wants to visit again. he was happy to be back at camp with his friends, knowing that his quest was completed, his mom was safe in new york, and a war between the gods was prevented.

it should be over….but there’s something in the back of percy’s mind that’s telling him it isn’t. seeing a certain someone in the crowd earlier didn’t do anything to ease that feeling.

"can someone explain to me why clarisse is still here?" 

you raise an eyebrow at luke, and he shrugs in response.  it seems neither of you had decided who should break the news, and neither of you seem particularly excited to do so, even after dragging percy, along with annabeth and grover, into the empty hermes cabin for some privacy.

after another beat of silence, you take the lead.

“look, kid, i know you and clarisse got off to a rocky start —”

“she tried to drown me, and then basically kill me during capture the flag,” percy points out. he hears an ocean roaring at the memory, but that could have also been from his duel with clarisse’s dad, the god of war, more recently.

a duel that percy had won, for the record. luke trained him well.

“and i’m not defending that,” you clarify. “i’m just saying that we’ve known clarisse for much longer. she’s not perfect, maybe a bit aggressive sometimes — trust me, she and i have had some major disagreements, too — but i can’t see her doing something like this.”

“why would anyone at camp want to steal the bolt? to join kronos’ army against the gods?” annabeth wonders. to herself or to the group, percy isn’t sure, but he has a feeling that the wheels in her mind are turning.

“revenge, maybe?” grover suggests. 

almost instinctively, grover glances at you, and so does annabeth. percy wants to kick himself for doing the same. 

with you being the daughter of nemesis, he imagines that it's not the first time you’d been blamed for something just because of who you are. it’s a feeling percy knows all too well. and, for better or for worse, like percy, it seems like you’re not one to accept these things without a fight.

you straighten your shoulders, ready to snap back, but before you can, luke declares:

“it’s not her.”

he then knocks the toe of his shoe against your combat boot. you smile and return the gesture. the tension eases out of the room.

for a second, percy wonders if he’ll ever have someone like that: someone to defend like it’s second nature, to share that sort of secret language with, to smile at him like nothing else in the world matters. 

according to annabeth, the two of you weren’t technically dating — but percy is pretty sure that aphrodite is swooning over you. 

“see, grove? if camp half-blood’s golden boy can vouch for me, then i’m in the clear.” your tone is playful enough — no hard feelings — but the tips of grover’s ears still turn red. “i didn’t steal the bolt. sure, the gods and titans can tear each other apart for all i care — " 

annabeth stiffens at your bold statement, and grover starts to nervously chew on an empty diet coke can he had stashed in his pocket. luke watches you with the hint of a smile on his face, and percy —

well, percy can’t help but admire you even more. 

"— but it's everything else that i have an issue with.”

“everything else?”

you look at percy like the answer is obvious. 

“when have the gods ever fought their battles without us as collateral damage? doesn’t seem worth it to me, to betray my friends.” 

that itch in the back of percy’s brain gets harder to ignore.

“the oracle warned me, betrayed by a friend.” 

“prophecies don't always come true,” annabeth reminds him. “at least not in the way we expect them to.” 

“annie is right,” luke adds, nodding at his sister. “mine didn't. the oracle said i would die a hero.” 

you turn to luke then, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“what? you never told me that.” 

“it doesn’t matter,” luke insists. “my point is that i came back from my joke of a quest, alive and a definitely not a hero —”

“fuck what the oracle said.” you roll your eyes. “dead or alive, you are a hero, tiger.”

you move to place a hand on luke’s arm. to percy’s surprise, though, luke brushes you off.

“i’m not a hero. at least not the one my dad expects me to be.”

again, percy is taken aback by how luke snapped, at you of all people. you huff, and percy can tell that you’re a bit agitated now, too. 

“okay, but that doesn’t mean —”

“my point is.” luke turns to percy, effectively blocking your presence for the time being. “you completed your quest, fought a god, and stalled kronos’ plan. you’ve been through it — all three of you have — but now you’re back. let’s just enjoy the rest of our summer, yeah? whatever happened out there, whatever the oracle said, it’s in the past.”

percy wants to believe luke, he really does. one glance in your direction, and it seems like you do, too.

deep down, though, percy isn’t entirely convinced. there’s that dread in the pit of his stomach, that voice in the back of his head. something in him, warning that this isn’t quite over. the worst has yet to come.

he wonders if — or maybe just hopes — you feel the same.

—

ii.

if you of all people can’t get luke’s attention, grover is pretty sure that the world is ending.

“luke,” you try again, foregoing your usual nickname for him. your arms are crossed and you tap your foot against the floor. it makes grover slightly anxious, feeling your frustration threaten to boil over.

“i’m busy,” he grunts, and flips over another page, scribbling something on the other side. 

“grover wanted to talk to us about something.”

“i-it’s fine, we don’t have to —”

“no, it’s a good idea, grove,” you insist. you smile at grover then. he remembers that, despite the deadly glares you can deliver, like the one you were just giving luke, you have a gentle core. you just guard it behind sharp edges. 

“tell him that i’ll talk to him later.”

“or, you could tell him yourself,” you huff. grover waves awkwardly, even though luke doesn’t realize what’s happening. “he’s right next to me.”

luke looks up briefly, and then back down at the pages in front of him just as quick. he looks tired, exhausted even. 

“sorry, man. didn’t see you there. i gotta finish these reports.”

“no worries. i tend to be quiet on my hooves.”

in the moment of silence that follows, and with luke still not giving you the attention you’re asking for, you walk over to the desk where luke is working. what you see seems to make you even more annoyed than before.

“these reports are for september. why in the name of nemesis are you filling them out now?”

“i just want to be prepared.”

“prepared for what?”

luke hesitates. “just….the future.”

“oh!” you laugh, sharp and sarcastic. “i didn’t realize that the future required you to neglect your friends.”

“i’m trying to help my friends,” luke huffs. he taps his pen impatiently against the desk. “if you didn’t keep interrupting me —”

“oh my fucking gods — ”

grover watches the two of you argue. it had been easier to step in whenever something bubbled up between annabeth and percy, because they were just kids. but you and luke — you were adults. 

when grover met luke for the first time, he was already taking on way too much responsibility for a kid — keeping thalia and annabeth alive, protecting them from monsters, taking care of them. in a lot of ways, those responsibilities didn’t go away: as a senior counselor and resident older brother, a hero for the older campers to admire and the younger kids to aspire to be. camp half-blood’s golden boy, as you liked to call him. 

and, like you, luke is good at hiding. for him, its heavy burdens behind easy-going smiles. 

lately, though, those smiles seem to be strained, his shoulders slowly bending under the weight of it all. the other day, grover asked you if everything was okay with luke. you had looked back at him sadly, shrugged, and said you didn’t know.

that’s when grover decided that everyone just needs a break — an escape. he had been sensing that things weren’t quite right with the others, too. percy seems a little on edge, and so does annabeth.

then, of course, there was you and luke. finding out that the two of you had actually started dating was huge news for someone like grover who had painstakingly watched the two of you dance around your feelings for years. so, it was more than a little weird that you’d barely been speaking this past week. the rare occasion you did was tense at best, and explosive at worst. 

like now, when you pick up one of the reports luke was working on, and threaten to burn it. luke dares you to do so, even suggests, albeit sarcastically, that you use it as your next offering to the gods. 

“oh, a handwritten document from luke castellan himself? they would love that,” you snort. “admit it: you’re doing all of mr. d’s work just to suck up to some gods who don’t even give a shit about any of this. you’re practically olympus’ lapdog.”

luke, blushing a furious shade of red, gets up and yanks the paper from your hand.

“at least my parent is important enough to actually have a seat on olympus and an actual cabin for his kids to stay in.”

you look like you could just about throw luke into a fire, and vice versa. grover had never seen the two of you like this, but it made sense: each of you knowing just where, and how, to hurt the other.

and, he thinks it’s about time to step in before the damage is irreversible. so, grover starts slowly clapping. the clapping gets faster, and he manages to get through the first few lines of the consensus song before you stop him.

“alright, alright,” you sigh. you push past luke, steal his chair, and put your feet up on the desk. luke scowls at you, but you put your hands up in surrender and jut your chin out towards grover. “just listen to what grover has to say and then we’ll let you get back to your precious reports.”

grover tells luke his idea. luke actually agrees, and grover can’t help but feel a little bit of a victory. 

he’s a protector, after all. it’s his job to make sure you’re all alive and happy and thriving. and not burnt to a crisp over some petty argument.

—

iii. 

annabeth had missed home when she was away on their quest, but being back and seeing everyone being taught to worship the gods without question, to believe that the only things that matter are power and glory….well, after everything that happened, after percy, annabeth can’t just go back to doing the same. at least not entirely. 

all this to say, she was totally on board with grover’s idea: the five of you, renting a cabin in montauk to get away from camp for a bit.

unfortunately, the trip starts off less than ideally. you and luke bicker the entire way here — and not the playful jabs you usually throw at each other. 

annabeth remembers the first time she saw you together. it was during breakfast, their first morning at camp half-blood. annabeth had spent the night trying not to cry over thalia, and already missing luke even though he was only a few cabins away. she was still a kid, surrounded by strangers, told that she was safe now, but didn’t quite believe it yet. one look to luke at the hermes table, and annabeth could tell he felt the same way, too — not quite settled in this new place that was supposed to be home, and with these people who were supposed to be family.

she watched as the hermes table went to burn offerings to the gods. when they sat down again, luke looked even more unsettled than before.

but then, you leaned in and whispered something in luke’s ear, and he actually laughed, just a bit, which was a nice change of pace. luke was always the one making annabeth and thalia laugh when they were running from monsters, always the one trying to keep everything together with a smile or a joke.

as she devoured her breakfast, annabeth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the two of you. she heard warnings from her half-siblings, about your mother being the goddess of revenge, and you living up to that name. 

luke either didn't know, or didn't care about whatever reputation you had. sitting there, next to you, annabeth didn’t think she’d ever seen luke so, genuinely happy, so at ease.

all these years later, neither you nor luke seemed particularly happy. you’re obviously avoiding each other, and annabeth doesn’t understand why.

you and luke are a new puzzle that she can’t wait to solve. 

annabeth had finished constructing the most elaborate sandcastle in history, just for percy to accidentally splash it when he was trying to surf a wave; so she decides that playtime is over. it’s time to figure out what exactly is going on between you and luke.

luke is in the cabin doing gods know what. you're on the deck painting your nails, so annabeth decides to start gathering information from you, first. 

“hey." you finish painting your pinky a dark purple, and set the bottle down next to you. "having fun?”

annabeth nods once and sits next to you. she asks if you could paint her nails, and you pull out a bottle of silver polish you said you thought she might like. 

as you work, careful with each stroke of polish, annabeth surveys the tattoos on your skin. you’re wearing a bikini top, so there are some that she’s seeing for the first time. there's one of a knife on your sternum, and annabeth distinctly remembers seeing a similar one peeking from underneath the collar of luke’s shirt. she wonders when you got it, if you had to travel to a tattoo parlour in the city, how many other adventures you'd gone on without having to consult the oracle beforehand. 

maybe that’s a good place to start. 

“have you ever thought about leaving camp? like, long term?" 

"sometimes," you admit. "it would be nice to have some normal early-twenties experiences."

"would you go to school?"

you smile as you keep painting annabeth’s nails. “maybe. i might have seen legally blonde too many times, but i think about law school sometimes.” 

“what about luke?”

your smile fades at the question. “i...i don’t know." your once precise nail-painting falters, and you mumble a curse when a drop of silver lands on annabeth's skin. you swipe it away before continuing. "luke's one of those people i can't really see away from camp half-blood for too long; pretty sure it would burn down without him. there's a reason he feels responsible for everyone there...in a way i respect, obviously, but, it's not the same for me. nobody needs me."

"luke needs you."

you sigh, and annabeth wonders if you even realize how you shake your head slightly. she thinks you're about to disagree with her, but instead you ask: 

“what's this about, annie? are you thinking about your dad’s offer?”

and annabeth’s completely thrown off her line of inquiry. 

“how did you —”

“perce told me that you’ve been talking about staying with him for the year,” you explain. you gesture at annabeth to give you her other hand, and she complies. the silver polish on the hand you just finished glitters in the sun. 

“well, nothing’s confirmed.”

you look up at annabeth, one eyebrow raised. “it's okay, you know — if you just wanna….be a kid for a bit.”

annabeth is silent, prompting you to ask another question.

"what's holding you back?"

“well….at first, i thought it would be a definite no,” annabeth admits. “obviously, it didn’t work out last time. i don’t know if i want to risk it again — if i can trust him, you know? how do i know he actually cares —  that he’ll be there for me when i need him?”

“you don’t.” you pause for a second. “but i’m gonna tell you a story that i think might help.”

you're done painting her nails, so you put everything away. you sit cross-legged next to annabeth, looking out at the ocean.

“my dad never wanted me to go to camp. he wanted to raise me in the city, just like he’d grown up. he’d take me to rock concerts all the time. i was so young, he’d make me wear earmuffs and carry me on his shoulders so that i could still see the band.” you smile softly at the memory. “and then….my dad got sick, he couldn’t take care of me, and monsters started to show up, so he brought me to camp for safe keeping." 

"you've told me all this," annabeth remarks. 

you start fiddling with your camp necklace. annabeth isn't used to seeing you so unsure, so nervous; it throws her off even more. 

"what i haven't told you is that even when my dad got better, he….he didn’t give me a choice of where to stay.”

"oh," is all annabeth can say. 

“yeah, oh," you scoff, but there’s not really any malice behind it. you seem…sad. defeated, almost. your fingers move to play with the hem of your shorts, which causes the fresh nail polish to smudge. you don’t seem too concerned about that at the moment, though. "i told everyone that i chose to stay. the truth is that i stayed because my dad didn't want me anymore. he said that the universe gave him a second chance, so he wanted to live his life without having to worry about monster attacks or taking care of his teenage daughter."

annabeth wonders if luke knows the truth about this; though, considering how difficult it seems for you to admit, she doubts it. 

before, annabeth had a theory that you decided to stay at camp because of luke.

luke was away when you got the news that your dad was in remission. annabeth remembers how happy you were, how excited you were to be back in the city and living with your dad again. you started packing right away.

when luke came back from his failed quest, you had just gone into the city the day before, having promised to visit in the summer and stay in touch. someone – chris maybe, or beckendorf — must have called you, told you what happened, because you came back to camp right away, your bag still fully packed. you never left again. 

"that sucks."

“yeah.” you let out a hollow, breathy laugh. “and, i was angry at first. of course i was. but now, i don’t know. i think that maybe my dad does care about me. like, he still sends me mixtapes with old punk rock songs he thinks i’d like. he actually calls me on my birthday, and we have a 3 minute conversation about nothing important." 

"right…" annabeth furrows her brows. this conversation had definitely not gone as planned. "no offense, but what's —"

"i'm getting to the point," you tell her, bumping your shoulder against hers.  "i realized that sometimes people can only love us in a way that works for them — and it sucks. it really, really sucks. but then sometimes…. sometimes people do actually try. and, i don’t know, it seems like maybe your dad is willing to try.”

“so you think i should take him up on his offer.”

the sun starts to set. you get up, brush sand off your legs. 

“i think it's time for a swim. i also think that you’re smart enough to know what’s best for you, and who deserves a second chance. just know that whatever you decide — we’ll be there for you.”

you leave without another word, but with the return of your usual confident smile, off to the shore to take advantage of the last bits of daylight. 

"she's right, annabeth." luke appears a few seconds later, takes the spot next to annabeth you had just occupied.

annabeth hums.

"how much of that did you hear?" 

luke doesn't answer. he just stares at your form, disappearing in the distance and diving under the waves.

—

iv.

you clear your throat and luke turns around to see you freshly showered. you’re wearing a pair of shorts and one of the oversized band tees the two of you constantly exchange. you've lost track of whose is whose at this point.

luke resists the urge to shamelessly check out your legs, and turns his back towards you once again. that bikini top you were wearing earlier was bad enough. thankfully, the heat from the stove was enough to cover up his blushing cheeks at the sight of your exposed skin. 

“i thought we were ordering pizza,” you say, moving to peer over his shoulder, chin hovering just above. luke had the sense that you were avoiding physical contact, and as much as it drives him crazy, he knows that he’s the one who’d dug his own grave. pushing you away and whatnot. 

“didn’t know that you knew how to cook.”

“not much,” luke shrugs. he keeps stirring the vegetables — broccoli and carrots and baby corn. he’ll add the red peppers once the broccoli turns green so that they don’t become too soft. he’s pretty sure that’s how he remembers it going.

“i could have helped you.” you reach over and hand him the peppers right on time. you shift to lean your back against the counter next to the stove, arms crossed over your chest and eyes following luke. 

luke throws in the chicken he cooked earlier, and then the sauce he had also mixed. he waits a few seconds, lets the sound of everything sizzling fill the space between you. 

“it’s an easy recipe.” luke turns off the stove to punctuate his point. 

and it had to be. something quick he’d make with his mom after she had one of her episodes, before waking up and realizing that she had a son to feed. the sounds, the colors, the smells — it all, overwhelmingly, reminds him of a childhood he once had. one that was never as simple as the food he just made.

none of the bitterness in his throat is caused by his mom, of course. just his father who calls himself a god, and left them both alone to fend for themselves. 

you start getting out plates from the cupboards as you ask: “where are the kids?”

luke checks the pot on the stove to see if the rice is cooked. “told them to go rent something from the video store.” 

“they went alone?”

“they’ve literally been to hell and back,” he replies and sits down at the table. “i think they can handle a blockbuster.”

“i don’t care if they get attacked by monsters,” you state, setting down the last plate in front of him. “i know they can handle themselves. they just better choose a good movie.” 

luke doesn’t mean to snort, but he can’t help but remember all the arguments you’d gotten in with chris over your tastes in movies. 

 “don’t laugh, castellan. i’ve saved movie night on more than one occasion and i’ve never gotten so much as a thank you.” you roll your eyes, but luke notices the ghost of a smile.

it fades just as quickly as it appeared, and luke already misses the small moment of levity that’s passed. 

“what’s been going on with you, tiger?”

you hold his gaze, and luke knows that you’re hoping for a real answer, for the truth he can’t give you. 

“nothing,” he answers instinctively. 

“don’t give me that,” you sigh and turn away from him, returning to your position against the counter. 

“i said it’s nothing,” luke insists, a bit more assertively. “why can’t you just believe me?”

“because you’ve been distant, moody.” your tone is sharper now, too. “you’ve been avoiding me. you’ve barely been eating. the side of your bunk has been empty, which means you haven’t been sleeping, either. gods, i can’t even remember the last time you kissed me —”

“you’re really mad at me because we haven’t fucked?” 

it’s a low blow, and he delivers it as if he hadn’t missed seeing you underneath him. or on top, or beside. luke isn’t picky. 

“you’re impossible!” you groan, and cover your face with your hands. you take a deep breath  before returning to glare at luke. “do….do you not want to be together, anymore? because if that’s what’s happening, i’ll survive. we can go back to being friends.” you clench your jaw to make up for the tremble behind your question. always a tough face, even in the face of potential heartbreak.

of course, luke knows you’ll be fine without him. he’s the one who might have difficulty surviving when you part ways.

“that’s not —” luke sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“noth—”

“i will send you to elysium if you tell me it’s nothing one more time, because i know it’s not!” you’re shouting now. “i might not know what it is, but i know you well enough to tell that something is bothering you. so i’m asking you, one more time, what is going on?”

the thing is, luke can’t tell you — about what he’s done, about who he’s aligned himself with. he can’t lie to you, either, at least not to save his life.

so, he’s basically stuck in whatever the greek mythology version of limbo is. 

for now, he’s saved by percy, annabeth, and grover, who walk in with a stack of DVDs and armfuls of movie snacks. 

dinner is fine, especially with the kids providing a good enough buffer. luke even catches you smiling and laughing along with them a few times. you approve of their choice in movies, starting with mulan. it’s one of luke’s favorites, too, but he can’t help but let his attention wander. 

the two of you have known each other for a long time. luke has felt your anger. he’s felt your frustration. you’ve been on opposing sides of explosive arguments, of brutal sparring matches. 

but, despite everything, luke’s never been hated by you. it’s unavoidable, given what he’s done and the path he’s on; it's just not something he's particularly eager to feel.

working for kronos….luke won't pretend he regrets it. something had to be done, to take back the poisonous world the gods created. 

he did it for you, even if you won't understand.

he'd do anything for you.

so, for now, he’s willing to endure the daggers you stare at him from the other side of the couch. 

—

v. 

in another life, you might have taken advantage of the queen bed and private room. both hard to come by at camp half-blood, if you’re not willing to risk zeus’ wrath for the latter.

gods, it feels like forever since you and luke snuck into cabin one because couldn’t keep your hands off each other, curses and lighting strikes be damned. 

you almost wish lightning would strike — at least then the bed would be warm. 

“i can feel you being mad at me,” luke whispers. 

“sorry, thought you’d already be gone by now,” you respond, sarcasm dripping through your words. “off to see whoever else you’d rather sleep with.”

“so, you are mad because we haven’t fucked in a while.”

a stupid slip of the tongue. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and your entire body feels on fire for giving him any leverage on you. that was definitely not the warmth you were hoping for. 

“whatever,” you mumble, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, your back still towards luke. 

for the record, you’re mad because of whatever distance luke was forcing between you, or whatever wall he was putting up, for a reason you don’t understand. you’d always known luke well, but lately you haven’t been able to read him. 

and, sure. maybe you are…. frustrated. the two of you hadn’t been intimate in a while, yes, and your fingers are nothing compared to luke’s, but more than that: you just miss actually feeling him close to you. in any sense. 

you’re not sure how much time passes, and there’s nothing but silence. then, you hear his voice again, gentler than before, no cocky attitude laced through. 

“you never told me about your dad.”

ugh. of course, luke had overheard your conversation with annabeth earlier. damn those sly hermes’ genes.

you stay silent to give off the illusion that you’d fallen asleep, but luke doesn't fall for it. 

“we’ve shared a bunk for years, karma. i can tell when you’re not sleeping.” 

you pause for a few more seconds, but you know that luke is persistent.

“it didn’t matter,” is all you offer before he asks again.

“it did,” luke insists. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s not like we tell each other everything,” you scoff. “like, why didn’t you tell me about that prophecy? and why won’t you tell me whatever’s going on with you now?”

“that’s….that’s different.” 

“not really. i bet that it’s all for the same reason.”

“which is?”

 you debate telling luke the truth. 

it was no surprise that you had a certain reputation around camp: cunning, hot-tempered, brash. you were fine being the angry girl whose mother wasn’t enough of a god to warrant a cabin, but enough of a threat to be wary of. you didn’t want to be the one who was also dropped by her father, unwanted and too much of a burden. so, you swallowed the reality of the situation; pretended that nothing broke your heart, and that nothing ever would.

“i didn’t want you to look at me differently,” you admit. 

another pause, this time from the other side of the bed. 

“if it makes you feel better, i was glad that you stayed.”

you can’t help it; you let out a sardonic laugh.

“that’s not much of a comfort, since you haven’t seemed very thrilled with me lately.”

“that’s not….” luke falters. “i just mean that i don't know who i’d be if you left.”

in spite of the situation, the ongoing tension between you, you find yourself smiling. 

“always so dramatic,” you tease.

deep down, you know you’re not much better.

luke was part of the reason you might have stayed at camp, anyways. he was the reason why you didn’t fight harder to get back to your old life, and you always did like a good fight.

it was scary though, that one person had so much power over you and didn’t even know it. you tried to convince yourself that you stayed because luke had needed you, after his quest and everything. but, once you’d known how it felt to have luke in your life, you didn’t want to go back to a time you didn’t. 

truthfully, it still scares you.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” you admit softly, swallowing a lump in your throat. “especially when i don’t even know why we’re fighting in the first place.”

you wonder if you’d just thought that instead of saying it out loud because luke doesn’t respond, until you hear the sheets behind you shuffle, and feel luke position himself behind you.

"i'm sorry that we're fighting. it's my fault."

he settles a tentative hand on your exposed hip, where your shirt had ridden up. luke starts to trace circles onto your skin with his thumb, the way he sometimes does when he's nervous or having a bad dream.

"i’ve just been so….in my head. i don't want you to worry about what's going on with me, okay?

"luke —"

"i have to sort it out on my own.”

"you don’t, though,” you insist. “if you just tell me what’s going on, instead of pushing me away.”

another pause. you can feel him breathing down your neck, and in turn you inhale the spicy citrus of his body wash. it’s all so excruciatingly familiar as you wait for him to say something, anything. 

eventually, luke sighs, deeply, and confesses:

"it's just….we've known each other for so long, but this — us? so much of it is new. i don't want to fuck it up." 

"well, congratulations," you quip. "you're one step closer to getting there."

you meant it as a joke, something to lighten the mood, but you feel luke stiffen at your words, his grip on your hip becoming almost painfully tight as if he's worried you'll slip away.

"i'm kidding, tiger." you weave your fingers through his to loosen his hold on you, and reassure him even more that you're not going anywhere, any time soon. "for better or for worse: you’re mine, and i'm yours. no matter how much either of us might fuck it up."

luke shuffles closer, and you melt into him even more. 

"do you really mean that?"

his voice is soft, surprisingly timid. you crane your neck back to look at him; luke stares at you, his gaze heavy enough to take your breath away. 

“of course.” 

you're so close, and you hadn't been in so long. luke's leg is somehow lodged in between your thighs, and you bite back a whimper as he brushes against you. you feel him behind you, already half-hard, and you rub your ass against him slightly, causing a groan to vibrate through his body. 

neither of you have to do much to crash your lips together.

you can sense how luke’s been unraveling, from the kiss alone. his lips are chapped, rough against yours and already bleeding from the pressure; his stubble scrapes against your cheek, and you’re dizzy with anticipation, imagining how it will leave a stinging sensation on other areas of your skin when luke has his way with you later. 

for now, you focus on your mouth on his: teeth clacking together, your tongue laving over the cut on luke’s bottom lip and tasting copper. luke brings a hand up to your jaw, pushing you into his mouth even more. 

it’s like the first time you kissed. all consuming. messy. urgent — like you've already run out of time. 

eventually, you have to pull yourself away from his grasp, your neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. luke takes the opportunity to suck bruises onto your neck while he presses his thigh harder against your cunt. he slips his other hand further underneath your shirt, cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers.  instinctively, you start rutting against him. 

“f-fuck,” you groan, relishing in the muscles of his naked thigh underneath you, defined and strong. 

luke chuckles, and you feel his breath warm against your skin. 

“you missed me that much, hm?” he taunts, encouraging you to go faster, harder. “you’re gonna cum before i even have a chance to undress you. doesn’t seem fair to me.”

“who —” your breath catches when luke’s hand settles around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him. you feel the outline of his abs against your lower back, and his length, hard and waiting. it’s difficult to finish your thought, but you try your best. “who says i only have to cum once?”

“that sounds like a challenge,” luke decides. “what’s our record — three? think we can beat that tonight?”

you laugh, already out of breath. “i think we can do it.”

“good girl.”

your thighs clench at the nickname, and it's one down, a few more to go. 

you maneuver luke so that he lays flat on the bed, your legs on either side of his hips. your hands fumble with the edge of his shirt, and he lets you remove it without any more hassle.

it's a little ironic, really, how much you and luke hate the gods — because looking at him underneath you, you're sure that something divine must have created him, and you have to thank them for it. sharp jaw, deep scar, flushed cheeks; curls slightly askew, and skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat; that cocky smile — you'd worship luke castellan over any of the olympians. 

secretly, of course, you pretty much already do.

"like what you see?" luke smirks up at you, hands firmly on your ass.

you roll your eyes to save face. "come on, tiger, like you're not seconds away from tearing through your boxers." 

luke clicks his tongue, locks his calf around yours to switch your positions. you grunt as your back hits the mattress, but you very much appreciate the force and weight of luke above you. he practically rips off your shirt, then starts to nip and suck down your body. he kisses the fabric still covering your cunt, and you can feel his chuckle vibrate through your body when he encounters the wetness there. 

"i'm not the one who already ruined their underwear," luke teases as he finishes undressing you. he pauses at the sight of you, bottom half completely exposed. you're about to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but then luke spits onto your already soaked cunt and says: 

“i need to clean you up, baby.” he gives you another cheeky grin, teeth glowing like the cheshire cat, before diving in.

luke is skilled at everything he does, so of course he's quick to unravel you once more, this time with a persistent combination of tongue and teeth, lapping at your cunt like it's his last meal. 

as soon as you're done riding out your high, you yank luke by the leather cord around his neck to collide your lips with his again. 

you reach down to return the favor, snake your hand underneath the fabric of his underwear, and you're deeply satisfied to find him already sticky with his release.

“you already finished,” you tease, stroking his v-line. "and ruined your underwear without me even touching you." 

in the dim light of the moon, you can barely make out luke blushing. he hides his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. 

“guess we’re both desperate, huh.” luke’s teeth graze your skin, his curls tickling your neck. “i need to be inside you, now, so how about you get on your hands and knees for me? i’ll get the condom.”

sometimes, luke tries to be gentle — but not this time. 

this time, he fucks you, hard and fast and deep. 

you love it, even if you might not be able to walk properly tomorrow.

with so much power behind each thrust, and the overwhelming pleasure, your arms threaten to give out, but luke catches you before you fall. he wraps a hand around your neck, bringing you flush against his chest as he continues to plunge his length into you. 

"listen to me," luke growls. he snakes a hand down to rub harsh circles on your clit. "the one thing the gods did right is make this perfect, tight little pussy of yours. you were fucking made for me, weren't you?" 

all you can do is whimper, closing your eyes at his filthy, sinful words. 

you aren't used to luke being so possessive, and certainly not in these past few weeks. it's making your head spin in the best way. you can feel your orgasm build in the pit of your abdomen.

"were you made for me?" luke asks again. he squeezes your neck slightly, and you gasp at the pressure. "answer me, or i'll stop." 

you don’t think it’s likely he’ll stop; you’re sure he’s just as lost in the sound of your cunt squelching and the feeling of you sucking him in. but, he does slow down, only a little bit, and it's enough for you to start whining.

"y-yes, luke."

"are you mine?"

you don't answer fast enough. luke stills his hips completely and you almost burst into tears.

you moan, trying to move against him in vain. luke keeps a firm grip on you, making it hard to cause any sort of friction between your bodies.

"i'm yours," you promise.

luke plants a firm kiss behind your ear. “that’s my girl,” he whispers darkly.

satisfied, luke resumes his pace. he moves the hand around your neck to your chin, angling you accordingly so he can crash his lips onto yours. 

it doesn't take long to feel the tension in your abdomen snap, wetness gushing out of you. exhausted, you collapse onto the mattress. luke slips out of you.

the next few seconds consist of you trying to bring yourself back down to reality after such a high. 

luke turns you around just to face him as he hovers over you. he lodges his hand behind your ear and taps your cheek to get your attention. your eyes flutter open.

“did you just —” 

the dampness between your legs, and on the sheets underneath you, is enough evidence: you just squirted.

"i….” you gulp, feeling yourself flush. “i’ve never done that before."

luke stares at your glistening cunt. you wonder if you should be embarrassed, but then he locks eyes with you. you've never seen them so dark, pupils almost fully blown, just a sliver of brown showing through.

"you’re so fucking hot."

your heart flutters. 

“you’re not too bad yourself, tiger, or i wouldn’t be in this mess.” you wink at him, still trying to catch your breath. your eyes wander lower. you note luke in the current state he’s in; you realize that the scales are nowhere near balanced. “that’s three for me, and only one for you. let me taste you.” 

he doesn't need to be told twice. you get on your knees once more, this time facing him as he kneels in front of you. luke rips off the condom, something to deal with later, and you take him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and tears brimming your eyes feeling him fuck your throat. when he finishes, you swallow him whole, savoring every drop. he pulls you up for a kiss; you can still taste yourself on him, and it mixes with his new release, a combination that is more than a little intoxicating. 

“fuck,” luke mumbles as he pulls away. he swipes his thumb over the corner of your mouth where some of his cum dribbled out. “i know that was intense, but would you be up for another round? "

"yeah," you reply without a second thought, reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls to ground yourself. 

maybe you should thank artemis for the full moon tonight, giving you just the right amount of silver light to illuminate the sculpted curves and edges of luke's body. his skin is also littered with bruises and bites of your design, chaotic and beautiful. luke looks like a mess, just as you're sure you do. 

you want more. you need more.

"we gotta go for four, remember? but...maybe we, uh…"

"....slow it down this time?" luke finishes your thought. 

you nod, grateful that you and luke are on the same page. he scrambles off the bed to get another condom.

"shit. i don't have another one.”

"check my bag, too," you tell him. luke complies, but comes up short once more.  

you’re sitting up against the headboard now, and luke returns to kneel in front of you. 

"i can use my fingers,” luke offers. “or eat you out again —"

“or we could just do without a condom this time?” you suggest. luke raises an eyebrow at you, so you think through the possibilities out loud. "we both got tested before our first time together and haven’t been with anyone since.” you find yourself pausing for confirmation on that, and luke nods once. “i’m on birth control. obviously there’s still a risk that something happens, but maybe just this one time? you can just pull out whenever you’re ready….if you're okay with that."

luke waits, almost like he thinks you might change your mind, before finally answering:

“yeah, i’m okay with it if you are. i’ve always wanted to fuck you raw. i just didn’t think you’d be into it — and didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

you have to kiss him then. because how is it that the boy who just gave you three jaw clenching, toe curling, heart pounding orgasms be so sweet and considerate?

before you know it, you’re flat on your back, sheets slightly scratchy with stray sand. you don't care much because luke hovers above you; he presses his forehead to yours, curls falling in front of his face. 

"just so you know," luke starts, just as you feel him enter you once more. "i must have been made for you, too. i'm just as much yours as you are mine."

you smirk, bite your lip to keep from moaning so that you can keep up the arrogance, just a bit longer. 

"always so dramatic," you mock, as if your cunt isn’t squeezing around him at his sweet nothings. 

luke grins at you sheepishly, his cheeks flushed. 

"guess that means the gods did two things right," you joke, exhaling when you feel luke brush against that gummy spot deep within you. "maybe we've taken them for granted. maybe we should - " he hits that spot again, and your breath hitches. you dig your nails into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth. “maybe we should thank them.”

luke clicks his tongue, grips your hip firmly. "not a chance, sweetheart. the gods’ll get what they deserve."

you don’t care enough to ask luke what he means. you care more about him going faster. you’re about to tell him to do so, and to throw your legs over his shoulders, but he does it himself before you get the chance. you feel him slipping deeper within you, the force and passion behind each movement, his body molding to every curve and crevice of yours. 

made for each other.

you’re so sensitive that your orgasm approaches quickly. as he helps you ride it out, his thrusts get sloppier, and you know he’s almost reached his peak, too. 

“fuck,” he grunts. “i’m close.” luke starts to pull out, but then you lock your ankles behind his neck. 

“don’t,” you command. 

“a-are you sure?” he looks at you, wide-eyed.

“i just want to feel you this once.”

he nods and brings you in for one more bruising kiss. he finishes inside you, warm and wet. 

luke leaves once he catches his breath, and comes back with a damp towel to clean you up. he knows your body, recognizes how sensitive you are, and presses kisses on the inside of your thighs, where the same lips had made bruises before. 

even completely fucked out, your mind starts to unpack everything that’s wrong in your life. like how luke has always been a little too good at pretending, with everyone else at least, and something serious must be going on if he's trying to fool you, too.  

this luke with you now, the one who gently wipes his cum from between your legs after fucking you so relentlessly, is your luke. it feels like your luke is slipping right through your fingers, and you’re wracking your brain trying to figure out how this can stop before losing him completely.

wait….did luke say something about getting revenge on the gods? your mind is still a bit cloudy, but you could’ve sworn —

 “are you okay?” 

his question puts pause on your spiraling. he’s done cleaning you up, throws the towel on the floor and settles back on the bed, next to you. you’re close enough for the softest whisper, your limbs intertwined beneath tangled sheets.

you watch luke carefully as he waits for an answer and surveys your body, tracing his fingers over the marks he'd left underneath your jaw, across your shoulders, over your collarbones and down your stomach. 

"i didn't hurt you, did i?"

“i’m okay,” you assure him. luke’s hand stops to gently rest on your cheek. your other worries are pushed to the side for the time being: for now, it's just you and luke. “do you think we could pick up a plan b pill tomorrow though, just in case? i love you, but i’m not ready to have your babies.”

luke widens his eyes like a minotaur in headlights. he drops his hand.

 “you’ve never said that before.”

“that i want to have your babies?” you jest, slightly amused at how panicked luke seems.

luke blushes and clears his throat. “well, that too. i meant the whole ‘i love you’ thing, though.” 

your amusement evaporates. you swear your heart stops beating momentarily.

“oh, shit.…” 

you’re not quite sure what to say; you’ve felt this way for a while, truthfully. 

of course you love luke. you can't remember exactly when you realized it, but you just….know.

because if what you felt for luke wasn’t love, then you were foolish to have secretly bought into what silena beauregard had been on about for years, and aphrodite herself might just be out of a job. 

“i know we’re kind of in a weird place, but, yeah, i mean it. you don’t have to say it back —”

luke leans forward to kiss you. gentler this time, but just as firm. “i love you."

"you do?" your heart resumes its beating. 

"of course i do. i have ever since my first morning at camp.”

“yeah right,” you chuckle in disbelief, feeling your cheeks heat up. “it’s not a competition, you know, over who loved who first.”

“karma, i’m serious,” he insists. “someone taught me to burn offerings, and with everything that happened with thalia, i obviously wasn't in the worshiping mood, but then you leaned over and whispered —"

"they like the smell of begging." 

luke grins at you, and you reach up to brush your thumb against the dimple in his cheek. 

"exactly. somehow, that was what i needed to hear. it was nice to know that i wasn't the only one who didn’t want to just accept things the way they were….” he loses his train of thought. luke grabs your hand in his. “i wish i had told you earlier. after all this, i don’t want to lose you.”

“you won’t —”

“whatever happens,” luke continues, somewhat ominously. “i love you, y/n.”

you hadn't heard luke use your real name in a while. you fall asleep, heart full with the memory of him weaving it together with those three magic words. 

the next morning, you wake up — you actually sleep in, for the first time in years — and decide that if you could stay here forever, you would. 

the morning sun stings your eyes through the sheer curtains. the sticky heat of summer sits heavy in the room, and stray grains of sand tickle your skin underneath the sheets. waves wash gently on the shore outside, and an ocean breeze mixes with the smell of burnt cinnamon. you can hear annabeth, grover, and percy crashing dishes and bickering and causing chaos in the kitchen as, you imagine, they scramble to surprise you with breakfast. 

luke is next to you, on his stomach. his curls are a mess, covering most of his face. 

evidence from last night: scratches from your nails prominent on his back, his neck decorated with purple bruises in the shape of your lips. you shift slightly and feel a dull ache between your legs, so you'd call it even.

outside, something clatters on the floor, and you hear percy swear.

luke's eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, and he starts to move. "we should get up before they burn down the place." 

you press your hand to luke's shoulder blade, barely, but in his half-asleep state, it's enough to keep him in bed. luke moves to his side, facing you. you bring your hand up to brush curls away from luke's eyes, even if they're still closed.

"they've literally been to hell and back," you recall his sarcastic words from last night. "i think they can handle pancakes." 

the corners of luke's mouth curl upwards. 

"you're such a smart ass," he mumbles.

you lean forward, plant a kiss underneath luke's chin. his stubble scratches against your lips. 

"don't pretend you don't love it, tiger."

luke breathes steadily. you think he might've fallen asleep once more until he presses his lips to your forehead, pulls you towards him, and quips:

"i love you."

your heart quickens as you echo his words. something churns in your stomach, too.

because this peace isn't something that feels permanent.

you're the children of gods, and there's always a catch. some inevitable plot twist where lovers end up separated, where heroes end up dead or cursed. 

it's nauseating — dangerous, even — that you want a happy ending, a desire buried in you deeply like a knife to the gut. it's cruel that the fates keep twisting, taunting you with what can never be.

no monsters; no gods or titans; no prophecies.

just this.

[creepyclothdoll]

Condemned

Paul loved escape rooms. 

He just loved them. The lovingly-crafted set designs and props, the electric buzz that came from finding hidden items and putting together puzzle pieces, the euphoria of cracking a code, the adrenaline of the ticking clock, and most importantly, the thrill of the escape. 

His friends had long ago stopped accompanying him every week, sometimes more than once a week, to escape rooms in his area. Especially once he started driving hours out of town just to try new escape game centers for a fresh hit of that delicious escape puzzle challenge.

Paul now preferred to go alone anyway. People just bogged him down. He didn’t come to make friends, he came to win. 

Months of hot anticipation finally bore fruit when the “Great American Escape” opened its doors to him, at long last. Great American, according to the billboards and posters strewn around town, was the primary attraction of an entertainment mega-complex which took the place of a long-disused waterpark hotel. It would be huge, he knew. Not just physically. His great fear was that it would blow up on social media– maybe even on his feed– and then the solutions would be spoiled for him. So he had to be first.

Great American Escape was so new the day he strode in there that there were still “CONDEMNED” notices stuffed into the recycling bins and old lists of health & safety violations stuck in the vents. 

“One ticket for Mystery Escape,” Paul, slapped his money on the counter and smiled at the teen boy working behind it. He was a short, lithe, wide-eyed man in his thirties with dark greasy hair and one navy blue university sweater he’d kept in moderate repair for a decade and a half.

“No group?” The boy asked. When Paul confirmed this, the boy said, “You’ll have to wait until a group comes in. You need three people at least.”

“When is the next group coming?” Paul asked.

“We don’t have any groups booked today,” the boy replied.

“... So, you’re not gonna let me in?” 

“... Um… yeah. I can’t. Sorry.”

Paul put down another handful of bills. This wasn’t his first rodeo.

“I’ll buy three tickets,” he said. He made sure to draw the boy’s attention to the extra $20, a little tip for a helpful front deskman. 

The boy, who was thin and bored-looking with a patchy teen mustache and his elbow resting on top of a stack of I Escaped stickers, glanced at the security camera which flickered in the corner, its blinking red eye frosted over with a decade of dust. The boy took the $20 and shrugged. 

“You won’t be able to escape,” the boy said. “It’s impossible by yourself. But if you want to try… I guess you can try.”

The boy led Paul towards a set of slightly rusty elevator doors, past posters and cardboard cut-outs of characters from “Rattlesnake Gulch Treasure Hunt,” “Escape From Venus,” and “King’s Dungeon Jailbreak.” Paul planned to return to these, but he’d start by going straight for the crown jewel– Mystery Escape, which had been advertised exclusively with nothing but an open doorframe leading to darkness. 

The boy went over basic safety guidelines. The door wouldn’t really be locked, red things were real alarms, things that said “staff only” were really for staff only, etc., blah blah blah, boring stuff.  Paul listened impatiently, but carefully, only because knowing what was “real” (and therefore inconsequential) would give him a leg up in the game. 

“The game starts when the elevator door opens,” the boy finally said. “Floor 3. Good luck.”

The elevator bell dinged, and the doors slid open. The light flickered. Paul stepped inside. 

He waved to the boy as the doors shut. He pressed 3. 

The light above flickered. Paul could almost see his reflection in the red-rusted metal doors. 

The elevator began its ascent, and right away, Paul could tell something was strange. There was a creaking noise, like a train braking. The light flickered. The light sputtered out. 

The elevator stopped.

Paul was trapped. It was pitch black inside the tiny car, which made no sound or movement. 

The first thing Paul did in any escape room was to check around for hidden props. Keys, ciphers, and puzzle pieces were often hidden around a room for players to find, which would then give them a clue as to what to do next. Paul checked around the elevator car for hidden tools. He pulled up the mildewy carpet by its frayed edge– nothing under there but more mildew. But wait! On the bottom of the carpet there were numbers and letters: EL1. What could that possibly mean? 

The next thing Paul did in an escape room was to interact with anything interactable he could see. In front of him was a series of numbers, 1-5, a “door open” and “door close” button, and “emergency.” But “emergency” was red, and red things were inconsequential. 

Paul pushed all the buttons but the last. To his surprise, the door began to open slightly– then jammed. 

Paul mused about the possible meanings of “EL1.” E was the fifth letter, and there were five numbers… But L? 

Maybe it was a cipher. Paul thought on this. 

He started trying combinations of buttons. The cipher thing was the key somehow, he knew it. A cipher worked with a code. Where was the code? Maybe it had to do with the symbols, not the numbers…

Suddenly, it all made sense to him. He pressed a set of numbers and then hit the door open button.

To his delight and satisfaction, the elevator doors creaked open. And with them came light.

Paul could see well enough now to see that he faced a concrete wall, which took up the whole lower half of the exit. But above that half, Paul could see a hallway of a hotel, so tantalizingly close. 

Paul had beaten escape rooms that had physical components to them before, so this was cake. He gripped the edge of the concrete ledge in front of him and pulled himself up. He let out a grunt as his head and arms made it over the threshold. He just had to find something to grip so he could drag the rest of himself through the gap, and then it was on to the next puzzle.

The elevator lurched.

There was a sound. A scrape, a crash, a wet squelch, a snap. It all happened at once, and it was the loudest sound he ever heard.

When Paul finally sat up, he was somewhere completely different. It was dark here. Darker than the elevator car. The darkness of this place was crushing, like the depths of the deep ocean. There was a smell of meat all around. Paul quickly dismissed the idea of trying to adjust his eyes– he’d navigate by feel.

Paul reached out into the darkness and felt nothing. He stood. His hands pushed him up from a strangely soft, lumpy floor. He noticed something strange about the sound of his movements, and let out an inquisitive “Hey!” to check the echo. It did not bounce. He was… outside?

No– he must be in the disused waterpark proper. The building was huge. Paul was delighted by this thought. He’d chosen the right room.

Paul felt around for a wall, a light switch, a puzzle. Anything. 

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here,” said a deep voice.

“Hello?” Paul said after a moment. 

“You lived a selfish life, Paul. You cared for nothing and no one but yourself and your own pleasure. You were an idolater, a heretic. You raised the Escape Game to the heights of a god. Pity that from this place, there is no escape.”

Paul listened carefully to the monologue. Selfish. Idolater. Raised. Heights. These things might be clues. 

“Paul,” said the deep voice, which seemed to come from above, below, and all around him, “You died a foolish death. Pity that you did not suffer. But now, you will suffer for eternity.”

Paul was already climbing up a staircase he’d found. It was the disused waterpark. Raise, he thought. Heights. The key was to go up. 

He found a craggy, warm wall. There was something under his hand– a button? He pushed it in, hard.

Under his hand, a huge glowing red eye flew open. 

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!” 

The eye blinked in pain and fury, welling up with tears. A thousand more eyes flew open along the wall before him, and Paul saw that it was not a wall at all, but some kind of enormous creature. It stirred, its red gaze illuminating the space around them.

“Stupid man. You woke something up.”

But now Paul could see the entire room– or space, or whatever it was. What he’d taken to be the “floor” was a mass of flesh– human hands, it looked like, reaching up stiffly. The hands started to stir as the creature woke from its slumber. What Paul had taken for a staircase was not that. 

Paul was making some real progress. As the hands clamored over each other, rising like tentacles from around the immense eyes, Paul hopped onto the face of the thing and started using the eyes as hand-and-footholds, which was their obvious use. Paul could spare no time on figuring out little things like that the honest way, he was on a clock. As he stepped on the creature’s eyes, it let out another unearthly roar and started to rise. 

There was a hole in the ceiling. Yes– this was meant to be a cave of some sort, and it had an exit. 

“You idiot,” the voice boomed. “You–”

Paul kicked the creature in the eye a few more times to make it rise faster. A tsunami of pale, writhing hands on wiggling stems shot up towards him to slap him away, but by the time they reached him, he was already through the hole. 

Paul scurried through the tunnel as fast as he could. If it was a three-person puzzle, you couldn’t waste any time.

He came to the next room, which was well-lit– a nice reprieve. In this room, a sweltering cave, some props department had gone all-out carving little demon faces that stuck out from the sides. These gargoyle-like stone structures leered at him and grinned in anticipation.

“The flametongue is coming, kindling,” the demon voices hissed. “Ready or not!” Paul heard a splashing, gurgling sound up ahead. He took quick note of some of the quirks of the gargoyle faces– most of them had black scorch marks on them, but some didn’t. That was a clue. The light from the other end of the tunnel grew brighter, as did the gurgling. Paul realized what he was meant to do, climbed up the protesting gargoyles, and found a set on the ceiling which had no scorching on them. Below, a wave of red-hot boiling sulferous-smelling magma flowed down, passing over the other gargoyles, who screeched and sputtered in it. Another puzzle solved. Paul dropped down once the stones cooled, and hurried up the tunnel– no time to spare. Only one more wave of “fire” passed before he solved the gargoyle pattern and pulled the right ones out of the wall in sequence to reveal a hidden exit.

This escape room was huge. He made his way through a room which featured a river of moving knives, which he was able to avoid by memorizing the timing and patterns, and climbed up into a room full of blistering ice and animatronic zombies which lurched toward him, their bodies crackling as they froze just as soon as they’d moved, their lips split by the cold. This puzzle was a simple matter of lining up the giant shards of ice in the room so that the light concentrated and blasted a hole through the glacial wall. 

Paul’s own body was profoundly frostbitten by this point, but he didn’t notice. He was on a timer. 

By the time Paul finally made it past the “three-headed-dog on a chain” puzzle, that subterranean voice from the first room had caught up with him.

“Paul,” the voice said. “There is no hope. There is no escape. Do you understand? You are dead, Paul–”

“Ssh,” Paul said, gazing at the puzzle before him. 

The door was immense. It seemed to stretch above him and beyond for miles. It was carved from stone older than the bedrock of earth, and above it, in an arch as large as the firmament, there was carved a phrase:

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

This was clearly important, because the deep voice had already voiced it earlier in the game. After checking the area for tools, Paul ran through anagrams. There were a lot of little props around the big door– lots of discarded holy texts, some bones, some strange bits of giant insectoid carapaces which Paul could not immediately identify. The bibles and such had bits burned and torn off of them in places. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. That was a ciper, maybe. He was sweating. He had to be at nearly an hour already. He started arranging the bones.

“What you are doing is futile nonsense,” the deep voice said.

Aha! By turning the phrase above the gate into numbers and then matching those numbers to the non-burned sections of each holy text, organized by the printing date, Paul had discovered an anagram which, when re-ordered, spelled out skeleton key prop, ds flo knemb yyuq. Paul had only bothered to spell out the first three words, however, due to the time crunch. That was all he needed to understand what to do, and he had done it: he had connected all the bones into one big key.

“I don’t think you understand, Paul. This is not a game. You cannot escape your fate. You cannot escape your death. You cannot escape damnation. You cannot escape from Hell.”

Paul slid the giant skeleton key into the lock. It took all of his strength to shove it to the back. Behind him, the host of hell scrambled over each other up the lip of the abyss– the thousand hands and eyes, the fire-spitting gargoyles, the lurching ice zombies, the great black dog, and many others, come to claim him for their own special torment.

Paul turned the key. There was a click. 

Well– more of a thunderous clunk.

The deep, gravelly noise of the stone door opening reverberated all throughout Hell.

“What the–”

“Hell yeah!” Paul shouted. He ducked through the door.

The red eye of the security camera caught it all. The man, crawling through the gap in the elevator. The lurch. The fall. The split.

The hopeless paramedics, the traumatized front desk boy, the shaking venue manager, the anxious lawyers, the dozens of police putting up brand-new yellow “do not cross” signage around the old hotel. 

The red eye of the security camera watched on as people in grim uniforms put the larger piece of what had been paul into a black bodybag and fetched the rest from the third story floor. 

“Used to love this waterpark when I was a little kid,” said one of the paramedics to another. “Now I hope they tear it down.”

“Wasn’t this place a lawsuit magnet back in the day?” said the other. “I remember a kid–”

The paramedics both noticed at the same moment that the body bag was moving. A lot. 

“Is he alive in there?” The first paramedic choked out, even though he understood that the answer had to be no. But then the zipper started sliding down. The bag was opening from the inside.

The headless body of Paul Gibson sat up. It reached out with its stumps of fingers, covered in cool dark blood, and rolled out onto the hotel lobby floor. Both paramedics screamed and leapt away as the decapitated Paul stumbled to its feet and lurched forward. It felt around without its fingers, leaving smears of blood on the front desk, the wall, the table, the “do not cross” tape, until it found the small white cooler on the floor. He pried it open with his mangled hands and lifted his own iced head out. 

Paul put his head on top of the gristle that was his neck. He had it the wrong way around, but his eyes opened and he smiled through bloody teeth. 

“I ss-ss-olved the b-a-ag puzzle,” the formerly dead man sputtered. “Did it a-all mys-self.”

He turned around to face both paramedics, so that his front side faced away. 

“Uh… congratulations,” the second paramedic said.

Paul choked up more blood and grinned wider. He stumbled toward the front desk, toward the paramedics. They backed away from him in horror as he reached out the wrong way and grabbed a commemorative I Escaped! sticker from the top of the pile.

“Th-a-ank you,” Paul said. “I’ll be su-ure to come back soon!”

[ashdreams2023]

Hiii, could I request a severus snape and little sister reader where she's the opposite of him and so all the students love her until someone insults him one day and she's all snarky and a miniature version of snape and everyone's like ".....maybe they are alike....." while severus looks on like a proud parent??? I love your fics so much!! Thankss!!

The same tree

Severus snape x professor sister reader 

The student body was in shambles the day you were announced as a new staff member, the name snape was enough to send shivers down some students backs.

They barely handled one snape, let alone two!

Everyone expected the worst, 2.0 snape female version then you got to your first class, it wasn’t like anything they had in mind.

Heck you gave house points and they paid attention to the lessons.

"She’s human, oh my god she’s not evil!"

It spread pretty quickly how nice and patient you were, you didn’t show any favoritism towards anyone nor did you encourage any rivalry in your class, as long as they passed it was a win for you.

Your office hours were filled with students coming to you for help, some even asking for help of topics other than what you teach, sometimes asking about stories of your youth but none dared to ask about your brother.

But there were times were kids can get way too comfortable in matters that have no business with them, unfortunately for a certain fourth year Ravenclaw he learned his lesson the hard way.

"I can’t believe that git took points because I added a point to his lesson! It’s fucking ridiculous, he’s a selfish idiot who only wants his way and everyone else is wrong"

"Jesus calm down mate, it’s only ten points you’ll live and he’s like the professor so…"

The Ravenclaw rolled his eyes "I know the book, I read it piece to piece I know my way around this stuff, he’s just one bitter old son of a bitch-"

"Excuse me you little bird" the boy froze as he felt a hand touching his shoulder, he looked up to meet your piercing dark eyes, they had the dangerously familiar feeling to those of their potion master.

"Professor i-"

"No no no…go on, continue what you were about to say so the oh so great Ravenclaw knows everything, because what? Because you read an outdated, basic, dusty ass potion book"

The boy swallowed, your tone was so different, you weren’t smiling and it reminded him of being schooled by severus snape himself.

"Why so quiet? Snake got your tongue?" You smiled proudly at the look of terror on the boy’s face "Let this be a lesson to you little bird, my brother is no idiot and without him little airheads and know it alls would be dead by now, so know your place, am I understood?" You tightened your grip on his shoulder.

"Yes ma’m!"

"And 30 points from Ravenclaw for showing disrespect to faculty staff members"

The boy’s jaw dropped but didn’t dear argue back and sprinted away with his friends, you couldn’t care less that students were watching, they call all spread rumors or whatever.

"Oh my god…she is like him…"

"Shush she’s gonna hear you! At least now we know not to overstep it"

You sighed and left the great hall, you pumped into your brother by the end of the day, he arched an eyebrow at you when you causally sat down and sipped your tea.

"I see you’ve made quite the impression today"

You shrugged "They’re just stupid kids, it was about time they learn anyways"

Severus leaned back on his armchair "You sound awfully familiar to me, I suppose I am rubbing off on you"

"The apples may look different but they all belong to the same tree" you smirked.

"You’re still terrible at potions though" He remarked knowing well how atrocious you were at his best interest.

"Hey! I was defending your honor"

You glared at him and he glared back then after a few seconds of intense looks you two snorted at each other and went back to having your regular sitting for the day.

Thank you for your kind words and glad you do 🥰

[newtthetranswriter]

Okay, so of course this is a giulio gandini request because no one has been writing about him yet, but I NEED him now, so.. 👀

(Sry if these are a bit corny, I'm a sucker for tooth rotting fluff!!)

‼️*SMALL MHA YOUR NEXT SPOILERS*‼️

So maybe a gaming one where the reader kinda teaches him how, baking with him, or you know how thought the movie he is basically telling us that he is alone and Anna saved him?? Well, they save Anna, so they don't talk as much as they used to. Then, one day, he runs into reader and it's like the "I'd thought I'd never love again, until I found her" yk??

(Sry, Ik this is long, i just love him, sm!!😫🥹)

Word Count: 2370

Paring: Giulio Gandini x gn!reader

Warnings: Angst to fluff, Spoilers for My Hero Academia: You’re Next, Slight Spoilers for the My Hero Manga (nothing huge just talk about the clean up efforts), Ooc Giulio (As far as I know this is the first Giulio fic so I don;t know how others write for him and it might be a little off nothing to bad though)

A/n: Hello anon. Thank you so much for the Request. I hope this meets your expectations, as Giulio might be a little ooc, but I am happy with how this turned out. Also I went with gender neutral pronouns, i hope that's okay, it only mentioned like once though. Anyways enjoy, remember requests are open, and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

   Living in the U.A. shelter was not how I expected my spring to go, but alas with the war between Villains and Heroes reaching its turning point there wasn’t any other option. Though unlike most of the refugees staying in U.A., I was brought here after I helped take down Dark Might. I was working alongside my close friend Giulio to locate and kill his boss Miss Anna, who had been kidnapped by the Gullini family, when we ran into the students of Class A. After the battle to take out the crime family, the three of us were offered shelter within U.A. in case friends of the Gullinis tried to come after us. 

   We were each given rooms within the many U.A Dormitories where the students normally stayed. Luckily we had ended up in the same building and we’re able to spend our time together. Even though the state of the world isn’t great, we have been settling nicely into our temporary life. Most days are spent talking and trying to ignore the growing threat of villains, or walking around the shelter and learning about the campus we currently call home.

   It’s usually all of us who go on these walks but every now and then Anna doesn’t join, leaving me and Giulio to explore on our own. At first the days where it was just the two of us reminded me of the time we spent tracking down Anna, but slowly things started to feel different. 

   Slowly our walks went from having long discussions about what we wanted to do once we were able to leave U.A. to Giulio just walking along with me in silence as I rambled on about whatever thought came to mind. At first I thought he might have just been tired and didn’t have much thought to add that day, but slowly he started acting like I was speaking to him even when we were back in the dormitories. Again I wrote it off as him being tired and tried to act like it wasn’t affecting me.

   After a few days of him acting like I wasn’t there, I began to worry that I might have done something to upset him. The fear of having upset him was only cemented when I asked if want to join me for a walk and he just walked away like I hadn’t said anything. I stood frozen, searching through recent memory of anything that I may have done that could possibly have upset Giulio, but nothing seemed to stand out.

   My train of thought was interrupted by Anna waving a hand in front of my face. I blinked quickly before nodding at her to acknowledge that I was paying attention. “What was that about? I’ve never seen Giulio act like that, especially when it comes to you.” She asked, having also noticed our friend’s weird behavior. 

   I shrugged at the blonde before responding. “I have no clue. He’s been acting weird the past few days and I can’t figure out why.” I explained. 

   Anna turned to watch as the red head began making himself some tea, before speaking again. “Maybe he’s just tired? We have been through a lot these past couple weeks and he got his replacement leg the other day so he probably just wants to relax a bit. You know how Giulio can be, since everything happened he has been one for big crowds and stuff like that.” She suggested.

    Her reasoning made sense but I couldn’t stop thinking that it had something to do with me. “You’re probably right, I can’t imagine it’s easy to adjust to a new limb.” I told her, not voicing my internal worries. “I’m just going to head back to my room, now that I think about it. I borrowed some books from the school, so I’ll just read for the day.” I explained moving to head to the elevator.

    “Well, okay, enjoy your books. I’m sure Giulio will be easier to talk to tomorrow.” Anna said waving goodbye as the elevator closed behind me.

Time Skip

    That was over a week ago. Not once has Giulio spoken to me in that time. I had tried multiple times to get him to talk to me, but every time I tried he either walked away or just acted like I hadn’t even spoken. Every time he ignored me, I brushed it off telling myself that he was just tired or he hadn’t heard me. 

    Unfortunately, I was forced to face the truth in the worst way. I had just entered the common room of the dorm building, when I heard hushed voices coming from the kitchen area.

    “I already told you, it’s easier this way.” The first voice was clearly Giulio, and he sounded irritated.

    I silently moved to be standing closer to the kitchen but still out of sight and waited to hear what else was being said. “You can’t just stop talking to them, Giulio. You need to explain yourself at least.” That was Anna, and from how exasperated she sounded, I could tell this wasn’t the first time they have had this conversation.

    The responding sigh was a tell tale sign that Giulio was tired of the conversation. “And tell me Anna how exactly am I supposed to Y/n that I don’t want to be friends anymore?” After hearing that one question I knew it was over, I had lost one of my long time friends and there was nothing I could do about it. I didn’t wait to hear the blonde's response before running out of the dorm building.

    Knowing now that Giulio was ignoring me because he was done with our friendship hurt worse than any injury I could receive from a villain. I had been the one to save him from the burning rubble of the Scervino house after the Gullinis attacked and I helped him recover quickly so he could find Anna. We had been through so much together, but I guess all good things come to an end. I just wish he could have told me before he stole my heart.

   After leaving the dorms I made my way to the staff offices within the U.A. school building. Once I was there I requested to be moved to a different refugee shelter as soon as possible. If Giulio didn’t want to be around me anymore, then he wouldn’t have to. It didn’t take long to get approval and shortly after I returned to the dorm to pack what little belongings I had, a couple Proheroes arrived to help me get to the new shelter safely. When the gates of U.A. closed behind me, I sighed knowing that even if this hurt me it would remove stress from the two people who meant everything to me.

Time Skip to after the Final war arc

    It’s been a few months since I last saw Giulio or Anna. The war with the villains had ended and many parts of Japan were quickly being rebuilt with the help of the Proheroes. While many of the refugees from the various shelters returned to what was left of their old lives and began rebuilding, I decided to start over. I had left my old life the day I left Giulio and Anna at U.A. so I saw no point in leaving Japan. 

   It was difficult to find work but I eventually found a job at a small convenience store that had narrowly survived the country wide battle. It wasn’t much but the owner also allowed me to rent out the small apartment that was over the shop for a discounted rate. Slowly but surely I was making a place for myself. Eventually I even stopped wondering what Giulio and Anna were up to, I started truly accepting that the part of my life was in the past.

  At least it was in the past. It was brought back to front of my mind when a familiar head of red hair walked into the store. At first I thought I was imagining things, that maybe I hadn’t really gotten over it all like I thought. But as soon as I saw his metal hand, I knew I wasn’t just seeing things. Before I could duck behind the counter and act like I wasn’t there, he turned his head in my direction and I watched as what I could only describe as joy washed over his face.

  Sure I had seen Giulio smile before but it was never directed at me. Plus with the way he treated me last time I saw him, why on earth would he be happy to see me of all people. Thinking quickly I decided to act like I hadn’t recognized him. “Welcome in, is there anything I can help you find?” I asked plastering on my fakest smile, trying to hide the conflicted thoughts rushing through my head.

  I then watched as Giulio took a moment to process what I said, confusion replacing the smile that was there a second ago. “Don’t play stupid with me Y/n. We’ve been looking for you for months.” He said approaching the counter. “I also saw the way you looked at me when I walked in so don’t even bother trying to act like you don’t know me or what I’m talking about. Now mind telling me why you ran off and where you’ve been these past couple months.” It wasn’t a question, Giulio wanted answers and he was determined to get them.

   Rolling my eyes I leaned against the wall behind the counter. “Why do you care? Last time I checked you weren’t talking to me.” I responded, the hurt from before turned to anger now that he was actually willing to have a conversation with me. “What was it you said to Anna that day? Oh yeah it was ‘how exactly am I supposed to Y/n that I don’t want to be friends anymore?’. Don’t come in here acting like you care when you were the one who wanted to end our friendship.” I answered, revealing that I had heard their ‘secret’ conversation.

  Giulio stood in shock at my response. He wasn’t expecting such a harsh reply to his simple question. “Wait, you heard that?” He asked, sounding slightly panicked. I only nodded in response. “Did you hear the rest of that conversation?” He continued.

   “No Giulio, I didn’t. Why would I stay and listen to the guy I thought was my best friend tell our friend that he was done with me? Honestly, had you told me you didn’t want to be friends anymore instead of ignoring me, I might not be upset right now.” I said not understanding why he thinks anyone would want to hear their friend talk bad about them.

   Giulio sighed, he glanced around the room as if searching for the right words to say. I just watched him confused, it was not like it was a secret anymore he could just tell me the truth and be done. “I think you should have stayed and listened to the rest of that conversation.” He finally started. I was about to respond but he beat me to it. “It wasn’t that I wanted our friendship to end. It’s more the opposite actually.” He said looking down at the floor, his bangs falling to block his face from view. “I was confused about my feelings. For so long I thought I had feelings for Anna, that once she was safe from the toll her quirk put on her we would be together. But then you saved after the Gullinis took Anna, and you stuck with me the entire time after. Even when I tried to push you away, you stuck by my side promising to help me complete my mission.” I stood silent as began to explain himself. “Then even after Anna was saved and we were allowed to stay at U.A. I thought things would go the way I originally thought. But the more time I spent with just you in nonlife threatening situations, the more I realized what I really wanted.” 

   He paused for another moment, rolling his shoulders and taking a deep breath like he was preparing for something big. “ I thought for the longest time I wouldn’t fall in love, and then I met you and you didn’t judge me for my goal or turn your back on me when I was difficult. Y/n, I know I was childish and hurt you but if you’ll allow, I’d be honored to spend forever making it up to you.” Giulio finished as he finally looked me in the eye. It was my turn to freeze again. Of all the things I expected for him to say to me, that was not it.

    I blinked a couple of times trying to fully grasp what he meant. After what felt like hours of silence I finally responded. “You’re right, you were childish and you did hurt me. But I was also childish by running away before talking things out. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions and left without saying anything to you or Anna.” I paused to breathe for a second before truly smiling at him. “And Giulio, you can start making it up to me by taking me to dinner tomorrow.” I finished.

   Giulio returned the smile, nodding in confirmation. “As you wish.” He said with a slight bow, earning a chuckle from me.

    “Good, now I have to get back to work. You can pick me up here at 8.” I said while grabbing a pen and piece of paper. Quickly scribbling my new phone number down. “And here’s my new number since you’ve probably already guessed I changed phones after I left.” I finished handing him the paper. 

     He quickly accepted it, nodding one last time. “Of course I will see you tomorrow Y/n.” With that he turned and left the store. 

    As I watched him walk away I couldn’t help but wonder what would have been different if I had stayed and listened to the end of that conversation all those months ago.

(dividers by @/cafekitsune)

[emistoast]

15/12 nails @rosekillermicrofic – word count: 674 – i had no idea how to end this one (and i don’t really like it but oh well), so apologies if it feels a bit rushed – warnings: swearing, hints at nsfw (barty is pinning, evan teases him)

Barty prided himself on being confident. Charming. Suave, even.

He threw winks at girls in the halls, watching them roll their eyes or blush and giggle. He was loud and made inappropriate jokes. He knew just how many rings to wear or how to style his hair in order to get someone falling at his feet. He most certainly did not stutter or blush or forget how to breathe when looking at someone.

Until Evan fucking Rosier and that fucking nail polish.

It was Pandora’s fault really (that’s who Barty was blaming anyway). She had wanted to test out a design and Evan had volunteered his nails as her canvas. It turned out good, great even, and Evan’s nails remained black and purple for the rest of the week.

But it didn’t stop there. It seemed that Evan genuinely enjoyed having his nails painted, which good for him Barty supposed, but really fucking awful for Barty himself. Because Evan’s looked so good with his nails painted and Barty found himself unable to look away any time the other boy was near (which was a lot, because as Regulus liked to point out they were basically attached at the hip).

“Y’know,” Evan said one day when the two of them were alone in the dorm, attempting to complete their Charms homework. “You could ask Dora to paint your nails too.”

“What?” Barty’s head whipped up from where he had been looking at Evan’s nails again (green this time).

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, it's quite fun actually. I’d offer but I’m shit at it.”

“What?” He repeated again, simply because he didn’t know what else to say.

Evan rolled his eyes. “You’re always staring at my nails. If you want yours painted, just ask Dora.”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“If you’re worried about people making fun of you–”

“I’m not worried about that.” Barty interrupted him, picking up his quill and turning his attention back to his homework. “I’d look great with nail polish. Fucking fantastic, actually.”

“Okay.” Evan said slowly.

A minute of silence passed between them before Barty spoke up. “That’s not why I’ve been staring.”

“Oh?”

“I…” He took a breath, closing his eyes and gathering every bit of the confidence and charm that he so prided himself on. “I just like how it looks on you.”

“You… do?” Evan asked, looking both confused and intrigued.

“I do.” Barty nodded. “It suits you, but it's also so distracting.”

“How on earth is my nail polish distracting?”

“I can’t stop looking at it!” Barty exclaimed and before he knew it the words were spilling out of him, almost uncontrollably. “It makes you look so pretty, I mean you’re always pretty Rosie, but the nail polish just… Merlin I just wanna hold your hands all the time and then I start thinking about what they would feel like on me and–”

He cleared his throat, looking away from Evan. “Yeah.”

Barty looked up when he heard a chuckle from next to him. Was… was Evan laughing at him?

Evan reached forward to grab Barty’s hand, a smirk forming on his face. “That can be arranged.”

Oh. Well fuck, there goes his heart and his lungs.

“It’s happening again.” Barty said, causing Evan to furrow his brows in confusion.

“What’s happening?”

“Can’t breathe when I look at you. You’re so pretty, Rosie.”

Evan blushed, though it was hard to see on his dark complexion. Barty could tell though, he’d always been good at reading Evan.

“You can’t just say things like that Barty.”

“It's true though, you are pretty.” Barty responded, feeling a bit of his confidence return at Evan’s blush. “Especially when you get flustered.”

Evan rolled his eyes again, something he seemed to do often around the other boy. “Shut up.”

“Or what?”

“Or you can see what my hands feel like on you.” Evan said with a grin. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Perhaps he should thank Pandora, Barty thought to himself as Evan stared at him with that wicked grin.

[chososchalupa]

I LOVE UR BULLY MEGUMI X READER CAN I HAVE JEALOUS MEGUMI

Thank you sm <3 ! I wrote this super quickly so im so sorry if its not the best! I've had the worst writers block lately. Hope you like it!

Training / Megumi Fushiguro

No warnings, Megumi is jealous bc Toge exists basically. not proofread + wrote this when i was half asleep but i had the urge to write after not having any interest for like a week so here it is

WC - 595

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

12:23

Seven minutes until class was over and you hadn’t heard from your boyfriend, Megumi, since 9:00 this morning. 

✧.*

You had tried catching up with him after training was over but he had mumbled something about being busy and left. Your friends Toge and Maki watched as he gave you a small smile before turning and heading back toward the school.

“What was that about?” Maki asked as you walked back over to them

“Yeah, he’s usually attached to you after training?” Toge laughed, “Wonder if he’s going to check on Yuji, It’s not normal for him to miss training”

You nodded, it was unusual for Yuji to miss training but you remembered him talking about a mission Gojo had assigned him for today. You racked your brain for reasons Megumi could be acting odd today. You met up for breakfast as usual and he was fine, the two of you walked onto the field and everything was fine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

✧.*

“Still haven't heard from Megs?” Nobara asked as the two of you walked out of your classroom

“Nothing. He hasn't even responded to my tex-” you stopped mid-sentence when you saw the spiky haired boy walk into the cafeteria. You said a quick apology to Nobara and ran towards Megumi.

“Megs! Wait up!” you called as you caught up to him, “What is your deal today? You haven't talked to me at all since training this morning”

“I’m fine” he responded, not looking up from his phone as he continued walking

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked

Megumi took a quick glance at you before responding with a simple, “No.”

You sighed in defeat, choosing to continue walking in silence beside him.

The two of you sat at a table alone, not speaking until Toge, Maki and Nobara sat down with you. 

You noticed the quick glare Megumi threw towards Toge and then it hit you, the mornings training was different. You were usually paired with Nobara but since she skipped, Gojo had decided to pair you up with Toge and Megumi with Maki. You didn’t see the change as a big deal but Megumi must have felt otherwise.

You made small talk with your group of friends before excusing yourself and grabbing Megumi by the arm, forcing him to follow you out of the cafeteria. 

“Is this about me being paired with Toge this morning? You know I didn't choose to be partners with him!” You crossed your arms as you looked up at Megumi.

He sighed before nodding, “I know, it's stupid. You just looked like you were having a lot of fun training with him. You guys spent more time joking around than you did actually training.”

You rolled your eyes before wrapping your arms around his waist, “So you’re saying you're jealous?”

Megumi returned the favor by wrapping his arms around you, “Shut up” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head.

“You have nothing to worry about, Megumi. Toge is a great friend but I love you and only you. Nobody could ever compare, especially not Inumaki” you giggled

Megumi pulled away after giving your head one last kiss, “I love you. I’m sorry for getting jealous, maybe I could make it up to you?”

You giggled at his question, “And how would you do that?”

“Let’s skip the rest of classes today and watch movies and cuddle in my room?”

You smiled brightly up at the dark haired boy before grabbing his hand, “What are we waiting for then? Let’s go!”

[fidesvirtusobsession]

Alastair Sinclair

Basic Information

Full Name: Alastair Sinclair

Age: 35

Gender: Male

Height: 6’3” (190 cm)

Hair Color: Primarily black, with a few strands of silver subtly woven in

Eye Color: Silver

Occupation: CEO of Sinclair Enterprises

Nationality: British-American

Personality: Calculating, obsessive, possessive, perfectionist

Alignment: Lawful possessive (Yandere)

Status: Alive

Appearance

Alastair Sinclair is a towering, commanding figure, embodying both power and control in every aspect of his being. His short black hair is always impeccably styled, though keen observers may notice the subtle streaks of silver near his temples—a reminder of the relentless stress and pressure he places upon himself. Rather than detracting from his looks, these traces of age only enhance his air of authority, making him even more distinguished and refined.

His silver eyes, sharp and piercing, hold a gaze that dissects and analyzes whoever stands before him. He wears thin, rectangular glasses, which add to his calculating and intellectual aura. Whether adjusting them with precision or casually removing them when deep in thought, they serve as a reminder that everything about Alastair is controlled, deliberate, and methodical.

His attire is always flawless, consisting of tailored three-piece suits in dark, understated colors, paired with expensive cufflinks and a luxury watch. His presence alone is commanding, his every movement exuding dominance and precision.

Personality

Alastair is a man of control, precision, and unwavering ambition. His mind operates like a finely tuned machine, dissecting every situation, every deal, and every person with an unmatched level of scrutiny. In the corporate world, he is ruthless yet efficient, respected yet feared. Failure is not tolerated. Mistakes are unacceptable.

However, beneath his unshakable exterior lies a deep, consuming void—a yearning for something he has never been able to grasp. He has everything money can buy, yet nothing that truly belongs to him.

That is until Y/N.

With her, he experiences something dangerous—a craving for something beyond control, beyond logic. Yet, instead of resisting, he embraces it, curates it, refines it. He does not simply want Y/N. He needs her. And if she refuses his generosity, his protection, his control?

Then she is simply not understanding what’s best for her.

His obsession manifests in subtle yet inescapable ways:

Absolute Exclusivity – He refuses to be served by anyone but Y/N. No one else understands his preferences, no one else prepares things the way he likes. If she isn’t there, he simply does not order.

Investment vs. Control – He offers to fund her bakery, scoffing when she declines out of fear of "debt." He does not make deals with her—he makes claims. He will build her future for her, whether she likes it or not.

Eliminating Disruptions – Any rival—be it a suitor, an employer, or a friend that occupies too much of her attention—finds themselves discreetly removed from the picture. It’s not personal. It’s just business.

Silent Threats in Soft Words – Alastair does not raise his voice. He does not act irrationally. But there is something terrifyingly final about the way he says things. A smirk, a quiet "You’re making this harder than it needs to be, Y/N." The kind of threat wrapped in velvet and laced with steel.

Despite all of this, Alastair is not openly violent. He does not see himself as a villain—he sees himself as a provider. Y/N is his, whether she understands it now or later.

Background

Born into wealth and high society, Alastair Sinclair was groomed for greatness from the moment he could walk. Raised in a household where perfection was expected and affection was absent, he learned early on that control is power, and emotions are liabilities.

By his early 20s, he had already overtaken his father’s empire, turning Sinclair Enterprises into an untouchable force in the corporate world. He has spent his life building, expanding, and perfecting everything he touches.

But power, wealth, and influence have left him empty. No matter how much he gains, nothing fills the void. That is until he meets Y/N—a woman so utterly different from his world, yet so perfect in her dedication, her warmth, her care for even the simplest of things.

Suddenly, he knows what he is missing. And once he has realized that, he cannot unsee it.

Relationships

Y/N (Love Interest / Obsession)

Y/N is the one thing that is truly his, whether she realizes it or not.

She makes his coffee just right.

She picks the pastries that suit it best.

She exists in a world untouched by corruption.

She is the only thing that calms his chaos.

And he will not share her.

Her rejection of his investment frustrates him. Her attempts to push him away amuse him. He lets her have her little illusions of freedom, but at the end of the day, she will always find him waiting.

She is his future, whether she fights it or accepts it.

Business Associates & Employees

Cold, calculated, and uncompromising, Alastair is known as a genius in the corporate world. His employees fear him, his rivals loathe him, and his partners admire him from a safe distance. However, lately, his focus on a particular café has not gone unnoticed…

Rivals & Enemies

Anyone who tries to take Y/N’s attention away is met with a swift, calculated demise. A suitor’s business mysteriously collapses, an annoying co-worker is suddenly transferred, and an overly friendly customer stops visiting altogether.

Alastair does not act out of jealousy. No, that would be too simple. He simply ensures that distractions are removed so that Y/N can see what is truly best for her.

Notable Quotes

“I don’t want you in debt, Y/N. I want to invest in you. There’s a difference.”

“No one else makes it like you. No one else gets it right.”

“You think I’m trying to control you? That’s adorable.”

“Why do you insist on resisting me? It’s… inefficient.”

"If I were you, I'd stop fighting it. Things would be easier that way."

Trivia

Favorite Drink: Black coffee, but only if Y/N makes it.

Favorite Pastry: Whatever Y/N chooses for him—he trusts her judgment completely.

Hobbies: Chess, business strategy, collecting rare watches.

Glasses: He adjusts them when thinking or removes them when frustrated.

Biggest Fear: Losing Y/N.

Final Thoughts

Alastair Sinclair is not just a CEO—he is a man who has everything yet wants only one thing: Y/N. No matter how much she resists, he will always ensure she finds her way back to him.

[fatkish]

Hiya. How are you?

I wanted to request a Aizawa headcannon in which he has a daughter and they are both kidnapped by a daengeorus villain, so he do everything to protect her and escape. With happy ending please hshshs

Thanks you. Hope you have a great week 🧡🧡

Aizawa x Daughter Reader: Kidnap

(Trigger Warning: this is a Dark fanfic and involves mentionings of kidnapping, abusive relationships, allusions to rape and may be uncomfortable for certain audiences. Please be advised)

You are an underground pro hero. You are 22 years old and have your old man’s quirk of Erasure and your mother’s quirk of Spy Eye

Basically your mother’s quirk allows for her to summon floating eyes that she can remotely control and see with. (Kinda like Gaara’s sand eye technique from Naruto) her quirk mixed with Aizawa’s and gave you the ability to summon eyes that had special effects like quirk erasure, x-ray vision, infrared (heat detection) vision, laser eyes, foresight and night vision

Your drawbacks are dry eye as well as migraines from eye strain

Aizawa is retired, at age 48 and lives in a nice apartment.

You had a boyfriend that you tried to break up with after you discovered his abusive tendencies

That didn’t go over too well. After a fight, he managed to get away and since you didn’t have enough evidence to arrest him and get him put away, you had to collect evidence

What you didn’t know, was that he had learned about Aizawa and decided to kidnap him not knowing that he was a retired pro hero

Your ex had a similar quirk to Midnight’s, he could emit an anesthetic gas that put people to sleep. Thus his job as an anesthesiologist in the hospital

He used his quirk on Aizawa and tied him up with quirk restraining cuffs and blindfolded him. He brought him to an abandoned warehouse to use as bait and texted you his picture saying if you didn’t come alone, then he’d kill him

Of course you tried to save him, but the moment you entered the building, even though you were wearing a gas mask, he managed to get behind you and a fight broke out

In the struggle, he managed to cut the strap on your mask, allowing you to breathe in the gas and fall asleep

After you were caught, your ex had you restrained in quirk restraining cuffs. He then put you both in a car and drove to an abandoned cabin in the woods.

After waking up, you see your Ex with a scalpel about to kill your dad. You beg him not to and that you’ll do anything, just please don’t kill him

Aizawa has tape over his mouth and despite his struggles and attempts to protest, your ex eventually agrees

He then takes you into another room where he begins to beat you up, punching, kicking and cutting you with the scalpel

Aizawa is struggling as he can hear your cries of pain and the thuds from your body being hit.

After beating you into unconsciousness, your ex was planning on forcing you to have his children so that you couldn’t leave.

As he is with you, beating you, Aizawa uses a hidden compartment in his prosthetic leg that holds a utility knife. He manages to break the restraints on himself and breaks down the door as the your ex is about to force himself on you

Aizawa beats him up and uses his skills revealing his identity as Eraserhead. He ties the Ex up and carries his daughter to the car outside.

He drives you both to the hospital where you’re treated and he calls the police to arrest the ex

When you wake up, he tells you that your Ex has a history of this kind of behavior with previous partners and that he won’t be out anytime soon.

Hizashi comes and drops off new clothes for you as well as get well cards

Aizawa asks how long you had been in that situation, he fears that his mistakes as a father had lead to you being with an abusive partner.

You reveal to him that you had no idea about who your Ex really was and that he only acted this way in the last 2 and 1/2 months of their year long relationship

After this, Aizawa has you move back in with him until you get better

(Hope you enjoyed this.)

[elliespotion]

Reckless Driving

cw// drug use, manipulation

ib: reckless driving by lizzy mcalpine

Ellie wants to use one of your old songs you had written and released before she begged you to join the band. Little does she know the deeper meaning behind it.

You and Ellie were just getting done with an insane rehearsal. Dina and Jesse were fighting the whole entire practice about God knows what this time.

Ellie plopped down next to you, guitar still in hand. “So… that was intense.” She says as she starts playing soft, familiar chords. Chords that honestly feel like they have been just buried inside of you, but why can’t you remember the song?

Suddenly Ellie breaks you out of your thoughts. “Hello? Did you hear anything I just said?” She says in an almost annoyed tone, but let’s be real, she could never be upset with you. “Hm?” You mumble out. “I said could we play ‘Reckless Driving’ at our next show?” She says slowly.

That’s why the chords sounded so oddly familiar…

i didn’t mean to kiss you

i mean i did but i didn’t think it’d go this far

“No.” You say softly and stand up but your legs feel like jelly, leaving you to just fall back on the couch. Ellie can’t help but raise an eyebrow at your reply. “No? What do you mean no? It’s a great son-“ “Ellie please leave it alone.” You say, almost yelling.

Now we’re going one hundred, your hands aren’t on the wheel.

cause you’re staring at me like you’re not convinced that I am real.

And now we’re at one eighty, and I can finally see

But then it’s over in a second, crashed the car into a tree.

Such beautiful words and a beautiful melody to people who didn’t know it was about your toxic, substance addicted ex girlfriend, Maya.

While Maya used to be one of the best people in your life she suddenly became one of the worst. You had a hard time maintaining your relationship since Maya decided she wanted to move to Los Angeles to ‘follow her dreams.’ She begged you to with her but you were content where you were. You knew it wouldn’t be long before she came back. Maya was a lot of things but it definitely wasn’t a person who would actually stay and fight for what she wanted. She got denied one role she really wanted and suddenly she went into a spiral.

Would she tell you of all people that? Of course not, she wanted to ‘protect you.’ There were obviously the daily phone calls, texts, and facetimes occasionally when she wasn’t ‘busy’ but as soon as things fell through for her you wouldn’t end up hearing from her for days on end.

you

hey babe

it’s been a few days, hope things are alright.

hello? maya? did your phone break?

please call me

maya

hey

just needed a break lol. you’re not my mom so stop acting like it.

sorry babe i didn’t mean it, i was drunk.

baby?

You didn’t talk for weeks until you saw pictures all over Mayas social medias, drinks and drugs covered most of her instagram stories.

She came home a week later, unrecognizable. Basically all bones at this point, dark purple eye bags.

You weren’t phased, you knew. You knew and she didn’t bother to tell you.

You got on your knees and begged her to get some help. If not for herself then at least for you, for your relationship. And sure, things were going fine for a month. She wasn’t using and she seemed happier, maybe even happier than she’s ever been. Until one night you get up to get a glass of water and Maya is no where to be seen. You look outside to see Maya and her friend using things you don’t wanna even speak of.

Do you tell her you saw it? Of course not. But does it hurt your relationship. Definitely. It’s almost like Maya has rose color glasses on. If you get into a fight, she doesn’t remember it. If she did then she was entirely in the right.

One night it became too much and everything boiled over.

“You think I didn’t see you a month ago outside with Caroline using? What is it now Maya? What hardcore drugs are you using now? Because you can’t cope that you didn’t get one role because you only spent your time in LA partying?”

Your words felt and tasted like fire.

“You have no idea what you’re even talking about! You-“ She put a hand to her head. “See you’re acting crazy again! Why don’t you just see it from my view? I’m sure if you went to LA your already failing music career wouldn’t go anywhere either.”

Her words hit like bricks. That was the last fight you had before everything fell apart. You packed your bags and decided you were moving to a different state, a different town. Anywhere to get away from all of this.

“Please don’t leave me! I promise I’ll change, I’ll be better. Give me a chance!” Maya screamed and begged at your knees.

Don’t wanna scrape you off the pavement

I can’t be your savior

I don’t wanna be here when you lose control

You pushed her off of you and eventually left.

I don’t love you like that

You’re a reckless driver

And one day it’ll kill us if I don’t let-

Sorry if this wasn’t great, this song has been stuck in my head for days. Debating on making a part 2 but i’m not sure!

[bansurii]

Sukuna • Reader | HC | just an idea of how Sukuna would be as a boyfriend humane and inhumane | dead dove but please proceed…

____________________________________________

Inhumane {or OG Sukuna}

- to start, sukuna as his original self both before and after heightened cursed ability and fully realized self, is neither interested nor even cares about relationships. he would kill you without a second thought.

-but for the delulu’s like moi who don’t care for that fact… well, let’s proceed, shall we?

-if sukuna by some amazing miracle decided to waste his time on a puny human with a deeper pussy than mariana’s trench, then he probably wouldn’t care much for the type depending on some things like, do we all agree that he would prefer a stronger woman who doesn’t need to rely on him for reassurance or guidance for basic tasks? Sure. We can also agree he would not prefer a little girl in the form of a twenty-something and we can definitely rule out women that would make attempts to boss him around.

-uraume is the key here in my opinion. This one seems to know well how to work around sukuna and also how to think for him when he is too focused on playing or whatever else keeps him occupied. definitely would agree that sukuna would prefer a quiet yet strong and occasionally outspoken individual with a dark sense of humor.

-would even go so far as to say “dead b- jokes” probably would be of interest in the dark matter that is his mind

-being anything of value to Sukuna is not a walk in the park. It is not a harsh party with the ol’ toxic family or shitty friends who try to get you intoxicated and push you off a cliff, although you’re more likely to have better luck in those situations than calling Sukuna anything other than his name.

-back to it!

-Sukuna is not for the weak! Should he choose you to date him, it’s either bc he thinks you’re fun to torment or because he sees some sort of power in you that he’s all for testing out later in more ways than one

-should he date you or call you anything other than “brat” and “fool” and how much your existence is a waste of space, please know he will never not do that and expect it in the bedroom!

-maybe he’ll torture you, make you think he’s gonna go down on you but actually eats the 🐱 and then heals you slow but sure and does it again after a while

-maybe he will take you hunting and pretend you’re looking for a wild boar and while you are actually hunting, he’s got his bow arm trained on you and you better not look at him… he will shoot without hesitation

-oh and don’t forget to never run from him under any circumstances. he’s not always in the mood for hunting and honestly he gets bored so easily so if you run it won’t make it fun. he will kill you. And no amount of praying and sacrifices to great king will bring you back. count your blessings

-should he decide to actually lay with you, likelihood of you living to tell the story does depend on sukuna and his emotions. one minute he might want you facing him, the next you better have the deepest curve the finest bow in history and the future would be proud of. should he allow you to live beyond the sexy time he willingly allowed you to live through, don’t run and tell your friends or the nearest spirit that cannot speak and don’t even think about it. Just bow down as deep as you can until he leaves the room or goes to sleep. But you better stay that way until the morning if you truly want to live. he better not find you asleep in that position either…

-without all the sex, he actually would be a great boyfriend or husband as far as protection goes. Words alone will keep you out of harms way. However, idiots still exist and some have to test this theory that the king of curses is as massive and horrific as they say…

-so should a couple of thieves or dumb teens decide to test their luck with you, they better hope sukuna is out of the country. Or out of this world.

-sukuna may not value you the way a more humane individual would, but whatever is his remains his to do with what he likes. and he does not play well with others. And he hates! when those others play with his toys.

-no, those teens were never heard of again. Nothing left to bury. Nothing left to even show they ever existed. Let alone their ancestral homes or families. the nearest villages and places of origin never even knew they were living there.

-best believe if sukuna goes so far as to claim you, he will barely let you leave his shrine or whatever glorified hole he crawls out of. because what do you need to leave for? do you not have everything you need right here? does sukuna not provide for you what no one else could pay millions or even billions to provide for you? are you unsatisfied with his dedication to you? Are you unhappy? Why do you need to leave? The sharp nails at your throat are just for play… he actually is curious deep down. But you will never know.

-all in all, inhumane/OG kuna is… a tough one. irritable but patient… mostly. take your time working your way around this one. he certainly does not play fair. And why should? He is the king of curses after all. you’re gonna be fine. I hope.

Humane Sukuna / Kuna/ Yuji’s cold older brother/ the man we all have the hots for

-cold, distant, aloof, probably truly feels nothing… at least until he sees you. Yuji’s friend, or not. Somehow he sees you around and he’s interested whether you are a gloomy girl that sighs a lot or a smiley girl who’s never had a pinker aura! Or anyone in-between… either way you make him glitch.

-he never glitches. He is the matrix. Fuck you.

-this.

-him.

-you.

-yuji is frazzled (but when isn’t he?) and megumi is actually sobbing for you. And nobara literally never cries so count her sobbing in a far off corner while sukuna approaches you and tells you to meet him for lunch here at this time and if you’re not there… well you better be there.

-if you do not associate with the triplex, you can assure yourself that sukuna finds that even more attractive whether you have friends or not, you do not associate yourself with fools, boneheaded freaks, and the creepy blue eyes they call sensei even though he teaches them next to nothing and just shows off his eyes every five seconds

-did i mention this might not include sorcery?

-should it though, you probably are weak until proven strong because who is sukuna if not the master of knowledge and whisperers?

-either way, sukuna has you glued to him within weeks. And yea, that is a grace period because while he is patient, he cannot leave an opening and risk someone stealing his marked one and leave him the scraps. No. He will take it all.

-oh god you’re a virgin??? Please for your sake keep that to yourself until it super matters. He is a VK through and through. This man is in love with the untouched and the untouchable.

-should you tell him in the very beginning that you are, he will turn everything as sexual as possible when it calls for it just to fluster you and get off on your reactions whether you know the meaning or not

-should you tell him right before the time comes, less embarrassing here than before but he will tease you numb and then somehow bring all the sensation back ten fold and will edge you like crazy until he wants to taste what he’s been forcing you to save for him

-and even if you’re not a virgin, here’s to that pretty 🐱 turning into his pretty 🐱 and never to be had by another and even if it is had by another it will never forget him just as you would never forget him. maybe he’ll edge you and tease you but it’s different when it’s your first time.

-no worries. He does not discriminate against the have and have-not.

-should you decide to allow him to court you (not that you had a choice here anyway) he would actually take you out on cute dates. Never picnics. But cute dates and feed you with his long fingers that get in your mouth real deep…

-don’t worry, he won’t make it super embarrassing for you next time.

-sukuna is into shibari.

-expect to be tied up as his personal art piece, when he wants to get super “knotty” and maybe if he just wants to watch you “hang” around. perhaps he wants to feed you more than food when you’re dangling from the ceiling…

-should sukuna date you humanely, he will manipulate you here and there and have his mental and emotional intelligence overstand yours and use that his advantage and watch your pretty little bottom lip wobble as he forces you into mental submission to him

-he isn’t as humane as you assumed he would be? Oh honey! You’re just getting started.

-you thought Aizen was manipulative? You think Michael Jackson from Demon Slayer holds a candle to Sukuna?? Aw honey!

-he may not raise a hand to you but his words almost make you prefer it… however he rubs the wounds away with kisses and cuddles you to sleep only for you to wake up to a cold bed in the morning. Not all happy endings remain happy.

-should sukuna delight you with his time, expect it to be limited unless you have made it so far as to live together and do not expect it to be domesticated. he is distant and cold even if he has warmed up to you. he only provides less harsh words and more comfortable silence

-he is not mad. He is not bothered. He is not angry. He is not annoyed. He is okay. He just has nothing to say.

-but do not push him either.

-quick-tempered at times. but only if you ate his food or spilled something on his favorite pants or shoes. He barely wears shirts so it doesn’t matter.

-he does buy you nice things. Maybe a new car. A pretty necklace with a tracker in it just to be sure you are the getting yourself into trouble or trying to leave him.

-he is THE ORIGINAL Christian Grey. Please know shibari is not his limit on the knowledge of bdsm and the art of sex of any level. It is a deal breaker for him if you cannot meet him somewhere in the middle for bdsm. It is a part of his life. If he is not serious about you, he lets it go as easy as he lets you go. He doesn’t like to waste his time so why would he waste yours? Unless he is bored.

-uraume is his friend. Nothing more. Ignore.

-unless he wants uraume to watch you squirm as he plows through you in those sexy red ropes that match the red in his eyes and the pretty lines that adorn your chest, breast, thighs and shoulders and the bite marks he left all over your pretty body.

-if you want, uraume can join though…

-sukuna would be similar here to inhumane sukuna when it comes to protectiveness and only if you are to get past certain milestones with him. he would disappear someone just for looking at you wrong. Maybe not that extreme but if it calls for it, don’t expect news about them in the coning days. Not a magazine editorial could publish anything about them. They simply no longer exist. The government cannot even say who that person was. Sukuna knows what he is doing. Trust him.

-you will never meet his family unless you consider Yuji his brother. Yuji will love you either way but doubt your relationship every second of the way. Still supportive though. Sukuna seems happy which is startling to him but you don’t look like you’re searching for the door… however. if you are… BLINK TWICE!

-overall, sukuna isn’t that much different than OG Sukuna but he has his key differences and things he would prefer that are more humane. Survival rate here: depends on how smart you are. Or dumb. Average: 47%

[doe-eyeddarlin]

This is one shot smut with Barba and a female detective that have been having a fling. It is nsfw kinda basic not angsty, just getting back into smut writing. 18+ nsfw

Tw: slightly rough sex and lots of profanity

Handsy

This was your first time testifying, you’d spent nearly all night prepping with Barba. He wanted made clear that he wouldn’t treat you differently in the court room just because your relationship outside of work, he was gonna grill you just as hard as anyone else. You’d both decided that after the prep session you’d part ways until court tomorrow morning.

The next morning as you got ready Rafael’s words echoed in your head “You’ve got to dress the part”.

Instead of your usual dark wash jeans, blouse, and blazer you find a nice form fitting pencil dress in a deep purple color and throw a silk button down underneath. You grab a pair of heels, fix your hair and makeup, rushing out the door.

Luckily you make it to the court room with time to spare. Before the questioning begins, you see Rafael giving you an all too familiar look. He tries to compose himself during your questioning frequently fixing his tie like he couldn’t loosen his collar to save his life. He’s able to bring the focus back to the case and he wraps the case in record time.

After the verdict’s in he asks to see you in his office. All you can think is that you fucked up somehow, you’re nervous, but try to play it cool. He asks you to close the door behind you and your heart sinks. This is it, he was about to scold you for something you said or did.

“You did great today, alittle distracting though”. He says with a low growl as he comes up behind letting his hands travel your curves.

“Rafie, whats gotten into you, we’re at work”, you manage to squeak out.

“I suppose you’re right. I just really like this color on you. What I wouldn’t do to see you bent over my desk”. He says with a brow raised.

You spin around to face him and playfully yank his tie. “Nice try, you’ll have to wait until we get home”, you chide.

He signs in slight disapproval “You’re right”. He gives you a firm slap on the bottom before sending you on your way.

——————————————————————————-

Finally the day comes to a close, Rafael and yourself leave one after the other. You meet outside and call a cab. He can’t keep his hands off of you on the ride to his place. His hand finds its way to your inner thigh as he kisses you making you squirm. You get to his apartment and the only time he stops touching you is to unlock the door. As soon as your inside he pushes you up against the wall nipping at your neck.

“I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom”, he’s says hands still exploring your body.

You’re able to make it to the kitchen before he finally gives in and pushes you onto the counter. His hands find their up your dress and pull off your panties.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day”, says as he gets on his knees. He begins kissing your thighs alternating sides getting high and higher until his head is fully between your legs. You grab at his hair as you feel his tongue against the warmth between your legs. You moan and tug his hair as his tongue traces small circles around your clit. He hums in delight at your reaction and picks up the pace.

Before you can stop yourself you wrap his tie in your fist giving it a firm yank. As happy as he was to lap you up all night that move alone made him rock hard. He loved the way you could beg him to fuck you without saying a single word. Suddenly he’s to his feet and you’re roughly pulling him closer, biting his lip.

He guides your hand to the inseam of his pants making you grope it teasingly. “This is what you’re waiting for, isn’t it?”, he smirks.

You nod and bite your lip.

“No, don’t get shy now. I need to hear you say it”, he growls.

He loved hearing you talk dirty to him even if he had to lead you to it. The filthier the better, that’s what got him going.

You skim his trousers with your finger, looking him in eyes. “I want to feel your cock inside of me”, you breathily say.

That’s exactly what he needed, you hear his hands fumble for his belt with a clink. He unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. Now guiding your hand to stroke it slowly, until it’s just your hand continuing the motion. If you wanted to you could have him melting in your palm already.

Through shaking breathes “Mmm. You mean this? That’s what you want?”, he asks teasingly.

“Yes, god yes! Rafie, just fuck me already”, you respond impatiently. That’s exactly what he wanted, melting into a puddle before he’s even made you cum.

He lines himself up and pushes inside you slowly, letting you feel exactly what you wanted. Grabbing your ass he slides you forward so you could feel his cock even deeper. You moan in his ear, as he steadily thrusts into you. His own sounds of ecstasy left him through groans.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day”, he replies under his breath. His pace quickens as he begins fucking you harder.

You can’t help but moan louder letting his name slip out as you can feel the tension in your stomach ballooning. “Rafie, don’t stop”, you gasp.

“Fuck. I want you to cum for me. I want to feel it, please, baby. Cum for me”, he growls.

At this point he’s doing his best to keep his composure. You can feel how close his is to bursting but so are you. With a few sharp thrusts you feel the tension inside bubble over and burst. He begins panting and groaning as he feels your cum dripping down his shaft. He’s more than satisfied it sends him over the edge and with a few unsteady buckles of his hips he spills into you.

It feels like every muscle in your bodies wants to go limp. He cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead as he pulls out of you.

“Now that we’ve had dessert, let me make you dinner. Keep your panties off I may want seconds”. He says as he buckles his pants.

[keelt9]

Chapter 12

Masterlist

A/N: One more to go and a surprise…

Ja’Marr can’t avoid it; seeing Joe so putty on his cell phone is a classic lately, a good one.

“Bad news?” He approaches with a tired Monet after playing around the pool for half an hour.

Monet approaches Joe sniffing his face, what he suspects, he just eats something that smells like a strawberry.

“Y/N will be out another week.” Chase chuckles, seeing his friends so defeated, like he actually doesn’t see her daily while he’s in Ohio.

Joe sees Monet. “Me and you, and the random guy Chase.” Ja’Marr tosses the ball, both of them laughing.

That night Joe wasn’t in the mood for going out and having some drinks, he prefers to stay in the house relaxing and chillin, reading complicated things for being Friday night.

The knock alerts Monet who stands right away from his lap and barks.

“Easy boy, probably one of them forgot his keys.” Joe stands searching the keys as he walks to the door. “Where the h…” 

As Joe barely opened, the door was pushed, calling for his attention as a happy and squeaky Y/N jumped over him, making him do the great achievement of the night; walking backwards as he grabs her in the air and her legs tingle around his torso.

“F…” He tried to speak but her lips went right away to his as her hands grabbed his face.

Monet is confused for the way he walks around and around them waiting for attention and a kind of sign of what to do.

Joe opens his eyes but easily gives up as her finger tingles with the back of his head, pulling her close by her tights as his lips clearly wins the battle of who misses more who.

The basic need for breath makes them split as plump lips are smiling. 

“This is an arrival.” Joe said, giving her a quick peek in her lips.

Y/N giggles, getting down her sight to the cute dog who is waiting for a pat, she nods as he stands on two legs, as she pats his head and speaks softly to him.

“Shit! Sorry.” Y/N realizes she’s still over Joe who is barely leaning on some of the pillars of the house, she was willing to get down until he just smiled and tightened his grip, causing her to blush.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Y/N said as Joe caressed the worst of the wounds over her face, at the left side of her face crossing her cheek until her ear.

“I’m really comfortable right now.” Joe said, kissing her one more time.

“What about a night walk?” Y/N suggests smiling at him. “You guys seem to enjoy those.”

Monet barks sniffing around for his leash. 

“Did you have dinner?” Joe asks, tilting his head. 

“Jesus! Yes, and a delicious one.” Joe narrows his eyes. “I swear!”

It genuinely feels so comfortable, walking on the beach with the dark sea next to them, hand by hand as they talk about the most random things, like the fact Monet has a natural talent for swimming, or how Y/N lost around Boston these days until an old lady drove her to the office. 

All feels so recomforting.

“I thought you said you’ll be out another week?” Joe asks as sees Monet sit in the sand, sign he needs a break or just he likes the breeze in that place.

They took out the leash, sitting next to each other. “I am.” She said, scratching softly the back of Monet. “But I had a free weekend and instead of spending time alone in a strange city, well… I chose to spend the day with my favorite boys.”

Joe feels his heart about to combust still he manages to play it cool. “It’s an almost four hour flight.” 

“Why do you think I arrived this late?” Y/N rolls her eyes, causing Joe to kiss her lips softly. “Or you were planning something?”

“NO!” Joe laughs seeing her with narrow eyes.

“Are you sure? Because I can go, it’s ok I…” Joe hugs her, hiding her face between his arms.

“No, we don’t have anything planned, it's just I’m surprise.” Y/N pinch his arm for he let her go. “I’m glad you’re here. Still your eyes tell me there is more, right?”

Her face lights up as her smile appears sitting in his lap.

“I have good news!” She put his hands around her waist. “I mean all could happen but if things work out…”

Joe is dying to know, it must be such a good thing for the way her cheekbones are prominent for the smile.

“I had a really good chance to have my own webtoon.” Joe scoffs in a sign of joy as grabs her face. 

She told him about the meeting with Yeonie and the fact she agreed just before taking a plane to Miami, unable to contain the emotions and the need for sharing the news with him.

“Still, let’s not rush, they could change their mind, and…” Joe laughs, that mistrust strikes again.

“Omg, I love you so much.” He said, grabbing her face between his hand and pressing softly. “Ok, hear me because I will repeat it to you all the times you need.”

Y/N laughs cover his hand with hers. “Trust a little bit, ok? I bet things will go magnificent, you deserve this, take your time, do what you need to do and I know you’ll have a masterpiece when you feel is ready.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “I won’t mention about the massive talent you had, because you already know that.” She giggles.

“I know, still it's nice to hear it.” Y/N said, taking a deep breath. “Thanks.”

Joe gives her a peck. “You know I’m so proud of you right?” Letting her face go.

“Well, you must I mean, it’s not for bragging but I had 3 webtoons on the top right now.” Y/N laughs with Joe as he hears every word she says, turning her around for she laid in his chest.

Wrapping his arms around her for she can see the ocean and the city at the distance, when Monet realize they just sitting admiring the view, he refuse to let another light shine more than him; he stand stretching his body for sitting in front of them covering most of the view, showing his left side. 

“A stroke of black and white, huh?” Joe said as Y/N scratched Monet’s back giggling with the kiss of Joe in her temple.

How much life can change in a couple of months?

As days, weeks and months pass, things change just for the best. The morning or late times of play remind, the work stays still or increases as the season begins approaches and Y/N’s mind clear with every draw.

The spontaneous dates, the planned dinners or lunch, small trips, knowing and spending time with family and friends now are douplet things. 

The fact that slowly and without even Y/N realize Joe adapts one of the many rooms of his house for her to work anytime she wants, dog items are normal things around his house and even he keeps spoiling Monet buy more and more.

Y/N’s house also improve, there where Joe clothes in her bedroom, big food containers and a lot of thermos all over the cupboard, curious ingredients as a calendar with Joe writing in her studio, important dates from her and him

Life changes and it couldn’t be better.

The knock on her door makes it go, leaving the mix for waffles on the counter.

“He’s training.” Y/N said open the door, finding Savannah and Nora standing at the other side.

They keep insisting on knocking the door before entering now they know Joe could be there and caught them infraganti.

Nora points to her sister. “We know, she forgot the keys.” Before huggin Y/N.

“So?” She asks to see a happy Nora.

They spend the weekend in Georgia visiting the campus and walking around in a couple of months Nora would be officially a college girl.

“It’s amazing! You must go, I mean you will but yeah, it is the right place.” Nora said carness Monet who was in his bed. “Is it bigger?”

Y/N nods, making Savannah laugh. “At this rate, he will have a bigger bed than yours.”

“Count with that.”

Savannah serves her a cup of coffee sitting in front of Y/N.

“It's nice, secure, and well, if she's dedicated, we can call her champion in her first year.” Savannah said with a proud smile.

“I thought you were in the training camp.” Nora said, giggles because Monet is resting backwards enough for attention.

“Joe didn't invite me, so…” The side eye of the sisters, if it were a knife, would cut everything at the sight. “What?”

“Well, I seriously believe you don't need an invitation.” Savannah stands helping to prepare breakfast.

“Yeah, come on Y/N you are overpassed for being just a guest.” Nora said, stealing a strawberry for Monet.

“What?”

Savannah sighs. “You are his girlfriend Y/N, he loves having you near…”

“But Joe also, well, it's not a secret sometimes he isn't that vocal, doesn't want you to feel overwhelmed with work and all that stuff.” Nora perks over their shoulders, it looks delicious.

Y/N has a gold goal this year, she has been working until midnight, just with one propuse, going to all the games this season, even the preseason games.

What is a hypothesis if you don't teste it?

Next morning Joe, like all days, woke up early; last night she offered to go to his house after he videocalled her, visibly tired but excited.

To his surprise Y/N isn't in bed, she's in her studio working with a coffee next to her. 

“Morning.” Joe perks seeing her bandanna over her head and glasses on, for him she couldn't be more beautiful.

“Babe! Hi.” Joe blushes every time she calls him like that.

Joe nods and walks in, seeing Monet sit waiting for him too. “Hi buddy.” He kissed his head.

Money licks his hand. “Beautiful.” He leans capturing her lips in a tender kiss with a smile. “A lot of work?” 

He sees the last canva she's working on, the last chapters of the webtoon are in the final touches.

“Not really.” Joe sees a bunch of drawings next to her, she rushes taking her sketches. 

After he intends to know what will be her first own webtoon, she mentions he only would know when the first chapter was ready.

Joe giggles, kissing her head. “I’ll take a bath and leave for training.” Y/N nods. “Dinner together?”

“Count me in.” Joe kisses her one last time before walking to the door.

“Take care of her boy.” He pat Monet's head as he barks. “Love you, both of you.”

Y/N spins in her chair seeing Monet. “Aunt Sav won’t bother you to keep conquering girls' hearts, huh?” 

Monet tilts his head, licking his nose. 

The offseason games start in a month and Joe couldn’t be more excited, even though he knows Zack only will let him play if has luck for 10 minutes. With his WR secure Joe feels confident if they work hard the AFC championship is reachable.

Tee approaches laughing, helmet in one hand and a paper in the other.

“Got it.” Joe said to Zack before he walked away to make the final adjustment and the open practice began.

“Aah, man, she's funny.” Tee shows the paper to Joe.

A cartoon drawing of Tee admiring a jellyfish is actually very funny, big eyes on Tee stuck to the fish tank where a jellyfish is side-eyeing him. 

Joe giggles while taking the paper. “Hey, it’s almost identical to Y/N draws.” 

“Because, it is.” Joe narrows his eyes; he hears the conversation between her and Tee about his deep love of jellyfish, joking she bets it’s one sided love. 

“When did she give you this?” Joe sees her signature at the back.

“Come on man! She’s right there.” Tee points out her talking with the girls. 

Joe sees her in fact, talking with some of the girls laughing with her jersey, the 9 number and a black cap over her head, seeing a kid running around the fiel with their parents as the other girls point out some players.

“You didn’t know?”Tee just barely reached to ask before Joe jogs in the direction of the girls “Hey! My cartoon.”

The girls see Joe coming so they decide to give them privacy letting her a few seconds before Joe reaches her. By the time she saw him, he was already enveloping her with his arms making her lose her balance grabbing his clothes.

“Auch!” Accidentally hitting her with his helmet in her arms. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Joe said with a huge smile on his face. “What are you doing here?”

He splits seeing her with her cap falling from her head. “Well, my boyfriend didn’t invite me but I want to come and see the big boys practicing, let's say I auto invite me with a high percentage of I couldn't get in.” 

Joe laughs, like that was even possible. “You could get into the locker room if you want.” She smiles standing on his tiptoes kissing him.

“LOVEBOY! Let’s go.” Chase screamed. “Let the girl alone for one second please.” Ja’Marr winks at them. 

“He already knew?” Joe asks, putting on his helmet.

“I texted him about if there was a problem.” Y/N admires her boyfriend with all his pads and helmet. Yes, he seems bigger and stronger.

“What?” Joe asks when he notices how she’s looking at him.

Y/N smirks. “Have I told you how handsome you are?” Joe giggled, getting down his head.

“BURROW!” Tee screams too.

Y/N giggles. “Go, I’ll be here.” She raises her fits, bumping with him.

“Until the end?” Joe jogs where his teammates are waiting.

“Until the end!”

Joe always hears for his teammates how thrilling it is having your family there in the open practice, yeah, nothing compared to the feeling of having them when you win a game but this is such a different feeling.

Knowing that your loved ones are there, seeing the base of everything they will see in the season with the same excitement and joy as their screams are all over the place, it definitely gives you a boost of energy.

For Joe seeing her chatting and laughing as her voice is at the top of her lungs cheering for him, it’s something he will remember forever.

Kissing her at the final of the practice, GOD! He prays for someone to take a good picture of this because it is shaking every cell of his body.

“Have fun?” Joe said, pulling her from her waist.

Y/N smiles. “Can I come to every free practice?” Joe giggles with his lips pressed to hers before giving her a soft kiss.

“Can you come to every game?”

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY III. — SOMNOPHILIA (UNDEAD AU)

cw: Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Somnophilia / Non-Con, AU, Mentions of Suicide / Implied Suicide, Forced Cheating, Yandere, Unhealthy Behavior, Obsessive Behavior, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Fem! Reader. Reader discretion is advised. 18+ Only!

author's note: The Undead AU is something I coined with one of my friends a long time ago. Basically, it's the idea that you're so madly in love with someone that not even death can contain you. This is dark. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fictional! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

word count: Approximately 1.8k words.

The staircase spirals into a dark abyss. 

Nothing lurks in his way, but he still stumbles despite the odds. His legs drag against the ground, heavy and shifting, and his arm slices out to brace against the wall whenever he takes the first step up. There’s a rattle in his lungs, something hissing but something that whistles like chimes before a storm. His head dips forward, ascending. 

Step by painful step. 

There’s nothing that can stop him now—the stairs settle underneath him, unsure of his weight. His other arm stretches for the opposite wall, fingers hooking in and clawing himself up up up up. He can feel his shoulders pull, the tension and the tendons, and they all start to string together as he tries to breathe, tries to find his breath, and all he can do is groan softly, dusty crumbs of dirt dribbling from his chapped lips. His eyes are bleary, deep brown that dull and fade, nothing but a gray thundercloud in the horizon, something smoky. There’s nothing in his eyes, nothing at all, and he wonders how much longer his trail takes him. He wants it to be over, wants to just reach that heaven and just—

One of his loafers slips against the staircase whenever he mounts the floor. He nearly trips and falls, head rolling on its shoulders and he can feel the bones crack and break as his head snaps around in half. Everything spins in some mock dizzy, and the staircase seems taller than it was moments ago. He could have fallen—could have died. Again. Again again again. He swallows before his hands grab ahold of his head and pop it back into place. The pop of his neck draws another groan from his somber body, so he takes a pause. Waits, staring into the darkness of the hallway. 

He slips inside of the ink. 

It’s unfair. It’s always been unfair. His fingers twitch and close, and he’s slitting his eyes the longer he walks. Why did it have to be unfair? It doesn’t make sense. None of it did. He stumbles, again, and then his shoulder slams and bounces off of the wall before he rests against it and growls, a revving motor. He uses the wall as a crutch for the rest of his journey, until his hand reaches forward and brushes against a doorframe. Here. Yes, perfect. This is great. All he has to do is open it—just drop his hand until his fingers find that knob, twist, slow and easy, and then push. 

His heart is still as night, but he swears that blood, adrenaline, and excitement is coursing through his veins. The door is no longer a threat. He looms in the threshold before he crosses, his eyes illuminated by the beacon of light before him. 

You. 

Yes, it’s you. Oh, it’s really you. And you’re by yourself tonight. Oh, so perfect. Too perfect. 

He can feel this jittery thrush in his body, the wings of a hummingbird, and he never wants to come down, never wants to let his feet touch the ground the more he flutters and flies. A grin starts to push against one corner of his mouth before he lumbers forward, growing heavier by the moment. Of course, you would be alone in your apartment—he’s not really allowed to leave home now, is he? He just feels so happy, can feel this pulse in his fingertips. Like an open wound, opening and gaping, and he stands at the foot of your bed. You’re just as beautiful as he remembers—before he died. Can someone become even prettier after death? Surely, yes. He tries to laugh, but nothing but stuttered air comes forth. It’s alright. That doesn’t matter right now. He gets closer, hovering right over your unconscious body. Would you scream if you woke up and saw his rotting features? Would you scream if you saw the maggots inside of his mouth, eyes, and nose? Would you scream if you saw the smears of black graveyard dirt across the bridge of his nose? Would you? 

None of that matters now, not whenever his knees press against the edge of the mattress before he bends forward and starts to lay his palms flat across its surface before he starts to crawl towards you. He’s always wanted to do this! He’s always wanted to know what it would be like to crawl into bed with you after a long and strenuous day, in dire need of love and comfort. He never had the chance. Too slow, or something. Or just unfortunate. He never wanted to tell you—was too afraid to confess to you, not after everything that happened. He just thought it would be easier if you never returned his feelings—would be easier if you didn’t have to deal with the aftershocks of it all, 

but then you fell for his brother. 

“Touya-niiiiiii…” 

Whispers of darkness and tangles of vines leave his mouth as he starts to pant, shifting one of his arms up and over your legs before he awkwardly bumbles further up your body. Has Touya done this to you? He wonders, but the thought makes the hollow cavity in his body twist. Probably. He doesn’t want to know. Why did Touya fall in love with you, too? His chest breaches over your hips, shuffling closer, and then his body ensconced yours. He’s empty, but he feels so so so so soooo full whenever he glances down at your body, at the way your shoulders rise and fall with each and every one of your gentle breaths. He lowers himself, letting his chest brush against your back. You’re so warm, very warm. The ice in his body creaks, but never melts, but it’s okay okay okay, because it won’t matter for very much longer. He’s a lover, he’ll be your lover, and he’ll have you. This is how it was destined to be—yes, indeed. 

It doesn’t matter if Touya has to stay at home until he dies! It doesn’t matter if you can never marry him because of his name, his reputation, his history! It doesn’t matter that Natsuo committed suicide! None of that matters—the only thing that matters right now is how his arms close in on your body and his hands find homes around your wrists. 

Natsuo feels like he could just explode, that he could just look up to the sky with joy tickling in his pupils before he pops like a flimsy bubble. Surely this must mean something? Right? Right? He couldn’t handle it all—couldn’t handle the weight of everything he’d been through only for his last hope, his you, to be ripped away from him. It was so unfair, truly, and death was better than that. Better than this. But this has to mean something! He’s alive—not breathing—but here with you, on top of you, and he starts to let his head spin before his body moves. His hips slink before he starts to oscillate them against yours. The bed shifts a little whenever he picks up his pace, but Natsuo just lets his gaze follow the way your body bounces against his movements. Breathless doesn’t matter, not whenever he can trail his palms down your arms so he can cradle your body, can let one of his hands slither underneath a breast and squeeze. 

Ohhh, oohhh, what is wrong with him? Why does he feel so lightheaded? Why is everything he does getting harder? Natsuo can barely think. He wishes it didn’t have to be this way—he wishes he was alive, in bed with you, right against you and making love to you so passionately that your moans peak and sing into his head. There’s this distinct need to cry, but no tears arrive. Does Touya cry whenever you have sex with him? Natsuo doesn’t want to think about it. He must. You’re so worth it—that’s why it drove him crazy, why Natsuo couldn’t handle it whenever you told Touya that you loved him despite everything. 

A throb flicks his stomach before it laps down to his groin. His cock is hard, he thinks, but Natsuo can’t think farther than just grinding against you, seeking friction and satisfaction. He wants to make love to you, he really does. He can. He will. Natsuo squeezes your breast one last time before he continues wriggling his hand down your stomach until his fingertips reach your mound. It’s hard to maneuver, so he starts to tilt you until he can press against your clit. 

You start to groan, and it feels like a mellow guitar riff, something constant and thrumming, and he can hear the subtle pounding of drums in his head. Natsuo wonders if he’ll stay conscious enough to get you off. He has to, he needs to. Your groan shifts into a moan before your head moves against your pillow, and the sound entices Natsuo to pick up his speed. The circles against your clit grow desperate, jerking motions that make your thighs shift and stick together. Your body stretches out, back arching until you fit against his chest better. Your moans start to become a little more coherent, and he can hear you, can hear the muttered words to keep going, to go faster, yeah, like that, just like that, right there, there there there there. He starts to smile. 

“Nothing… nothing can…” 

Your head lifts a little, and your breathing changes. You’re waking up, oh, yes, you’re waking up. Natsuo’s rigor renews again, lighter fluid to a bonfire. Your head starts to tilt. 

“Yeah. Nothing can keep me away from…” 

Your head turns, little by little, and Natsuo lets his lean to the side. 

“You. Nothing. I’ll always love… I’ll always love you…” 

Your wide eyes meet his murky ones, a distinct lightning of terror splitting across your features before your face draws back a little. 

“Even in death. Yeah. I’ll love you. I love you so much that… that not even…” 

Natsuo starts to lose his balance, but he keeps scrubbing his fingers against your clit as he starts to crumble into your neck, starts to get closer to your face, your warmth breath fanning across his sickly skin, lips whiskers apart. 

“Not even death can keep me away from you.” 

Your breathing picks up, and he can feel the scream in your throat before it happens. 

“Don’t scream, why are you…” 

Natsuo doesn’t finish his statement before he slams his lips against yours, drinking in the scream that vibrates his teeth. He stays there, basking in your sound and heat, eyes open and lurking into your own. 

“I just 

love 

you 

so 

much.”