#but ALSO the way i STILL feel this at 21 YEARS OLD

[sysig]

Oh he is So baby (Patreon)

[lavellane]

ik the implication of the von valancius succession is that our RT is just some random fucking 7th cousin twice removed but i actually think its so funny if leda is theodora's daughter.

[cheekblush]

me today 💤

[mikeyfuckinway]

the harrowing experience of being an adult whose trans and polyamorous and into lolita fashion and being scared someones gonna come around the corner and call me a predator

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

okay but I genuinely do feel "I'm only 25" deep in my heart. as an excuse

[tealfruit]

gender isn't a choice for many people. there do exist people who made the choice to be a different gender. in fact I would say the very act of choosing a specific label to describe your gender is you choosing how to describe yourself, even if you didn't choose what you are describing. can we stop pretending that there's only 1 way to gender

[kamaluhkhan]

THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer. 

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.” 

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous. 

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?” 

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in. 

“what? n-no!” 

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you. 

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp. 

it just didn't seem fair. 

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods. 

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest. 

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest. 

every  demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they  didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself. 

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?” 

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching. 

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.” 

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.” 

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze. 

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too. 

“she deserved more.” 

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there. 

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do. 

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise. 

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.” 

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm. 

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.  

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day. 

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.” 

luke bristled at your nickname for him. 

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go. 

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.  

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in. 

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly. 

 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again. 

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down. 

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse. 

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled. 

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” 

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.  

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning. 

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone? 

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one. 

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward." 

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you. 

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp. 

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.  

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready. 

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him. 

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through. 

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him. 

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power. 

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood. 

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased. 

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess. 

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson. 

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?” 

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken. 

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.” 

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer. 

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.  

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too. 

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time. 

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more. 

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips. 

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die. 

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy. 

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away. 

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze. 

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse. 

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse. 

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.” 

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality. 

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie. 

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat. 

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him. 

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for. 

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did. 

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it. 

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair. 

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates. 

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes. 

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.” 

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes. 

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that. 

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you. 

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?” 

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush. 

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….” 

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right. 

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for. 

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached. 

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?” 

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?” 

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.” 

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said. 

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow. 

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air. 

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch. 

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp. 

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him. 

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment. 

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door. 

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire. 

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.  

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god. 

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy. 

everything was falling into place. 

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.  

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you. 

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles. 

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist. 

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him. 

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey. 

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy. 

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?” 

 “they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true. 

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him. 

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it. 

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down. 

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet. 

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog. 

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more. 

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously. 

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated. 

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind. 

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well. 

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.” 

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe! 

would you hate him, if you knew? 

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage. 

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?” 

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns. 

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.” 

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment. 

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips. 

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe. 

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his. 

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath. 

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time. 

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted. 

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor. 

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother. 

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock. 

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.” 

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being. 

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

���not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.” 

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.  

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone.  we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor. 

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape. 

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice. 

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head. 

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life. 

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

Delusional - Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

Masterlist

summary: In which the internet once again is fooled by your slightly overdramatic side. Rumors about Lando dumping you circulate but luckily the Mclaren driver is just as delusional as you are. Social Media Au

y/nfewtrell

Home

liked by kellypiquet and 60‘797 others

y/nfewtrell in my feelings bruh

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maxfewtrell did you take my hoodie?

y/nstans what why????

user567 sense a breakupppp

f1islife stunning

arthur_leclerc *plays taylor swift

user345 arthur what do you know

y/nandlan Lando didn’t like?!

user567 see his post? he seems completely unbothered

user898 Landos too good for her anyw

f1gossip you sound bitter

user787 i just always had weird vibes from her

f1gossip we‘ve met y/n and she‘s literally an angel

y/nfewtrell thanks means a lot

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell and 567‘897 others

landonorris how I try to entertain

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user687 such a hottie

f1fans someone say unbothered cough

georgerussell63 I thought you were on a diet?

alex_albon he‘s abt 4ft tall he doesn’t need a diet

mclaren next week we back to veggies

f1lover wheres the missus

user789 y/n doesn’t attend most gps she goes to university

f1fans yeah but so do Alex and Kika yet they seem to be way more supportive

user789 I‘m sure shes supportive just maybe also focused on her on career?

y/nstans y/n not liking landos post has me scaredddd

maxfewtrell looking smug

landonorris thanks bestieeee

maxfewtrell

Paris

liked by landonorris and 123‘890 others

maxfewtrell took the little nugget to paris @y/nfewtrell

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user578 she‘s so cute

f1lover peeping the papaya phone case

norrisandme yes also Lando liked! they goood

y/nfrance we met her yesterday and she seemed fine

arthur_leclerc the nugget in the big city

y/nfewtrell miss you archer

f1gossip my fave friendship

user787 why is she already flirting with guys when the rumors aren’t comfirmed

maxfewtrell oh god if you think y/n can flirt you‘re in for suprises

y/nfewtrell thanks maxie :) loved the trip

team_quadrant let’s go to Brazil!!!!

f1gossip

liked by user676 and 12‘899 others

f1gossip You guys know we normally don’t cover anything realitionship releated but it looks like Lando and Y/n are going through some crisis. She appeared on a tiktok crying after a series of mysterious tweets and instagram posts. Neither her or Lando have yet confirmed the rumors. But she has been absent from his likes and vice versa.

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user676 she’s making it obvious

f1fans cloutchaser?

y/nstans shut up

landonorris @y/nfewtrell care to explain missy

y/nfewtrell no i dont care to, peace out

user676 omg they commented

norrislove they clearly are clowing y‘all

maxfewtrell the woman cries like twelfe times a day and people still wonder?

landonorris twelfe is a little much, ten maybe eleven

y/nfewtrell I have my reasons this time!

y/nfewtrell

Austin Texas

liked by charlottesine and 234‘890 others

y/nfewtrell my lanlan. I formally apologize for being a lot to handle sometimes. I do love you more than words could even get close to explain. Thanks for being the best boyfriend and bestfriend. Thanks for pretending I‘m 21 forever.

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landonorris my world, anything for you 🧡

y/nfewtrell love youuu

maxfewtrell disgusting

maxfewtrell we all know she aint 21, plus he’s MY bestfriend

f1gossip we stan an overdramatic queen

charlottesine power couple

y/nfewtrell thanks chacha

user787 how annoying all that for such a petty reason

f1fans right i was relieved he had dumped her ass

y/nstans sad people you are, she clearly makes him happy

arthur_leclerc happy 21st I guess ;)

landonorris whats with the wink you twat

f1user y/n control your mans

landonorris

liked by f1 and 1‘124‘799 others

landonorris happy 21st birthday to the most beautiful 21 one year old I know. I love you so much eventhough your overdramatic soul makes people assume we broke up every couple of months. I love you my angel.

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user676 21!?!?

f1gossip look at y/ns post

f1lover they have me dead

charles_leclerc isn’t she-

arthur_leclerc shut up charlie

maxfewtrell tell them!

y/nfewtrell thanks bean. I love you more.

maxfewtrell bean? cringe

kellypiquet such a beautiful girl

f1gossip so the whole drama reallly was bc she doesn’t wanna turn 22 hahaha

user67 she‘s truly overdramatic

f1 we love a supportive and delusional king

mclaren like a true gentleman Mr.Norris

maxfewtrell

Sao Paulo

liked by oscarpiastri and 123‘788 others

maxfewtrell happy 22nd second you LIAR, never thought Lando would go as delulu as you. Love you nugget.

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[willowfey]

yeah i’m fine… ( <— still thinking about your life over mine by bry 11 years later)

[novemberheart]

{overview} John and you take another leap in your relationship, Kyle makes an unsettling discovery

{warnings} Fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141, P in V sex, heat cycles, oral & fingering (fem receiving), loss of virginity, cursing, mirror sex, MDNI

Chapter 21 <- Chapter 22 -> Chapter 23

The next few days had gone by without a hitch. It was nice, being domestic with your pack. You spend most of your days going to museums, restaurants, and outdoor activities that are way above your athletic ability. Still, you would be lying if you said you weren't happier than you have ever been- well at least happier than you've been in a while. You and Simon have gotten much closer. He had been making a real effort with you, not that he hadn't before but there was something different about him. His gestures felt more affectionate than out of duty.

That was until you came down with a fever.

“It’s not saying she has a fever, yet she's burning up,” Kyle huffed, pulling a thermometer out of your mouth. You and John eyed each other.

“This a symptom of your heat?” He questioned. Everyone stiffened.

“Yes. But I usually get them after my heat, not before. Before my heat, I’ll get extra sensitive, and my body will start to feel….less stiff. I'll also get this sort of buzz in my stomach,” you explained.

“And I take it you haven't been feeling any of that?” Simon added. You shook your head.

“You don't smell any different,” Johnny added too.

“Well, this may be the start of it, pretty girl. Let's just keep an eye on it, yeah?” John spoke. Everyone nodded.

“I don't want this to happen on vacation,” you started to whine, you quickly caught yourself, your eyes going wide.

“Sensitive, eh?” John chuckled, placing a kiss against your heated head.

“This is the best place for it to happen,” Kyle assured. “Where you're safe with all of us,” Kyle reminded. You breathed out slowly, nodding your head in agreement.

“You're right,” you affirmed.

“The plan is,” John began and you immediately felt a sudden shift in the air. You wondered how many times they have heard John say that. It had an immediate impact on them, their shoulders straightening, eyes narrowing in focus. How many times had their lives depended on those words? Johnny's crow's feet appeared and you ran your thumb over them breaking him out of his trance. He grinned at you, pressing a kiss against your hand before turning back to John. “Me and her will stay in our room,” he spoke looking at Simon. You held your breath, waiting for him to be mad at you. Instead, he nodded his head seemingly unaffected by the words, besides a light blush across his cheeks. “You’re in charge of food and drinks,” he commanded, looking at Johnny who quickly nodded. You winced. Looks like you'll be eating cereal and granola bars for a week. “You’ll be on puppy duty,” he spoke to Kyle, nodding to the lazy ball of fur at your feet.

“How long do your heats last, Bon?”

“Usually a week,” you responded, causing Simon to chuckle.

“Old mans gonna disloca”-

“Fuck off,” John interjected, his own smirk across his face. “I’m two years older than you you twat,”

“I'll sleep on the pull-out in the living room,” Simon spoke. Being in the betas room felt too close to you. “Don't worry about me barging in or anything, yeah?” he soothed.

You felt horrendous for believing he would be upset at you. You offered him a small smile, nodding your head graciously.

“Alright, that's it,” John finished.

Simon grabbed a washcloth, running it under cool water and plopping it on your forehead.

“Remember when you were doing this to me?” he mused, a small smile on his face. That seemed so long ago. That was your first interaction with him. You remember how scared and unsure of yourself you were. Hell, most of that hadn't changed.

“Simon,” you sobbed, your arms wrapping around his waist, making him chuckle.

“Sensitive, pup,” he teased, patting you on the back. “Should get you to bed. A nap might help,” he spoke, mostly to himself. He hoisted you up carrying you to the bedroom, Johnny following close behind. He tossed you on the bed, Johnny quickly hopping in and getting comfortable with you. You watched with tired eyes as Simon began moving his clothes into the beta’s room. He didn't have too many.

“Simon?” you asked softly.

“Pup?”

“Could I have one of your sweatshirts?” you nearly pleaded. He grabbed one off the hanger, rubbing it against the scent glands on his neck before tossing it to you. You bunched it up, using it as a pillow. Leather with an undertone of black licorice making the back of your neck tingle. “Thank you,” you purred lowly.

Your symptoms had progressed. A familiar lax in your body making it a bit hard to move. You had started nesting, stealing things from every member of your pack to make the bed as comfortable as you could. There were slight changes in your scent making their mouths water. John stayed close, wanting you to ease him into a rut instead of it just hitting him.

“How do you feel, lovie?” Kyle hummed.

“My face is hot but my body is cold,” you whined. “And I'm tired,” you huffed.

“Sleep, princess. You'll be needing it,” John chuckled from next to you. Your head peaked up from the pillows.

“You’re the one who’ll need it,” you shot back, a playful glint in your hazy eyes. John’s brows raised, sitting up on one of his elbows.

“You flirtin’ with me now? I'm the one that's supposed to be courting you,” he reminded, tucking you in.

“I’m waiting,” you smirked, causing Kyle to laugh.

“I'll be back,” John insisted, dodging back down the hall.

“I like this feisty you,” Kyle murmured. You chuckled, inching closer to him. When John returned he had a bowl of cut-up fruit and a few snack packs of your favorite snacks.

“Thank you alpha,” you purred, popping a strawberry in your mouth. John purred back, tucking you back in.

“Let me,” he urged, opening a pack of cookies and hand-feeding you.

“I could get used to this,” you smiled between bites.

He woke up before you with a sharp exhale. Your scent hitting him like a bolt of lightning. You were tucked in his side, your hands gripping onto his damp shirt like it would keep you from floating away. You were whimpering quietly, his body reacting to you before he had even opened both his eyes. You needed him.

“I know, pretty,” he soothed quietly, biting back a snarl. He pressed his lips against your shoulder, slowly detaching himself from you. Your nail caught the fabric of his shirt, the sound of the fabric tearing finally waking you up. You watched with bleary eyes as John made his way to the bathroom, tossing his half ripped shirt on the floor. He splashed cold water on his face, even through your tears you could his body shaking.

He was holding himself back.

You could smell it in the air. His blazing scent overshadowing your melted vanilla. Your scent alone would be too much for him, him projecting being his only defense to keep from sinking his teeth into your neck.

You were uncomfortable. Your body too hot and sweaty to even focus on the ache between your thighs. You sat up sluggishly, your feet sinking into the plush carpet. You pulled yourself to stand, making your way to the bathroom. John quickly turned on the shower meeting you halfway. You rested more than half your weight against him, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ as he guided you along.

“May I?” He checked, his fingers curled in the hem of your shirt. You nodded trying your best to hold your arms up to make it easy for him. You already felt a bit cooler as the fabric hit the floor. A pleased rumble echoed in his chest.

“Such a pretty girl I have,” he mumbled more to himself than you. He pulled your sleep shorts and panties down in one motion, his arm resting around your waist to keep you steady. He checked the water temperature, making sure it was cool enough to chill your heated skin but not enough to shock you. “Want me in with you?” he asked softly.

“Please,” you mumbled against his bare chest. He erupted in goosebumps as your hands traveled around his abdomen. He pulled his sweats down, along with his boxers. You swallowed thickly. The sight of him making the sheen of sweat return to your skin. Partly from want- no need, and partly from nerves. He was about half the size of your forearm in length, but the width was really what made you whimper.

“Don’t worry about that right now, pretty,” he soothed, turning you away from him. He apologized as the action caused him to run across your lower back. You shivered, your bottom instinctually arching in the air to meet him. “Good girl,” he praised softly. You were running on instinct, you couldn't help it. Besides, you presented too perfectly for him to not compliment you. He guided you into the shower by your hips.

You purred as the cool water hit your heated skin. He kept his distance, despite the sight before him, his hands keeping a firm grasp on you to keep you steady. You turned under the waterfall, your hands pulling him closer by his arm.

“I want to feel you,” you mumbled. The little self-control he had snapping. He gripped the back of your thighs, hoisting you up, pressing you against the tile of the shower. Your arms quickly found his neck, your mouths desperately connecting.

“You don't know how long I've wanted you,” he growled back. He was all-consuming. You're hardly able to keep up with his words. His lips leave yours for just a moment to bite at whatever skin he can before returning to them. You could feel the tip of his cock brush against your bottom, the little action having your eyes rolling back.

“Then take me,” you gasped. “I’m yours.”

His groan was toe curling, his hand reaching below you to switch the water off. He kept you close, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you back to bed. He tossed you down, his hands finding your ankles. You watched, waiting for what his next move would be. You expected him to spread your legs apart, and begin to work himself inside of you, yet all he did was stare. He raised your legs up, pressing a soft kiss to the heel of each foot. He worked his way to your core slowly. A kiss against your ankle, then up your calves, then up your thighs, stopping just before your dripping entrance. His beard felt just how you had imagined it, your hand grabbing his hair and pulling him towards you.

“What, pretty girl? Tell me what you need,” he said softly, his breath against you causing you to jolt.

“You,” you sniffed softly, hoping a small buck of your hips would drive the point home. He rubbed his cheek against the inside of your thigh, pressing a teasing kiss against your heat. He wanted more. You could tell by the way his dark eyes stared at you expectantly.

“I want your mouth, Alpha. Please,” you pleaded. His eyes grew heavy at the request. Your body nearly lifted off the mattress as he licked across your aching heat.

“Thank you,” you hissed, your nails digging into his shoulders. He groaned against you, making you jolt.

“The boys weren't lying when they said you asked nicely,” he smiled against you, not giving you any time to relax before his mouth enveloped your cunt. It was a completely new feeling, one that had you choking on a moan. You didn't bother to hide it, not that you could with his hand wrapped around your wrist. It was hardly a minute before a (now) familiar tightness filled your abdomen, your hands fighting to break free just so you could grab onto something to steady yourself. You were chanting his name, which only seemed to spur him on. You came with a moan that made even him flush. Your legs pressed against his head but he didn't care.

The hardest part was pulling his mouth away from you. Your sweetness already becoming another vice to him. Your teary eyes stared down at him like he had done something wrong- made you cum too hard for your own good. He tried to take it slow, ease you off the cliff gently, but once he got you in his jaws he couldn't let go. He’ll make it up to you.

He kissed up past your belly button, trying not to smirk at the way your chest heaved up and down. His tongue darted out, dragging through the valley of your breasts and up to your collarbone. He shushed you gently, his thumbs wiping the fat crocodile tears that rolled down your cheek. You were so sensitive, both physically and emotionally. Your shaky legs found his waist, your heels digging into his lower back. You weren't too deep into your heat, the attention he was giving you making you more aware.

“You okay for more, sweetheart?” he questioned softly, his thumbs still brushing against your heated cheeks. You nodded instantly, your hand cupping his face pulling him down. You could taste yourself against him. Johnny was right, you were sweet. He held himself above you, one of his hands traveling down the curves of your body- slowly like he was trying to memorize each dip. The back of his hand brushed against your thigh- red from the friction of his beard- his fingertips running over your slick gently. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, your eyes trained on the ceiling. He hummed softly, grabbing your attention, his forehead resting against yours.

His normal blue eyes were dark like a shark's, but he still held enough softness in them to ease your worries. You doubted your eyes looked any different. His fingers brushed up and down you for a moment before leaving to wrap around his cock. Your eyes naturally followed his movement. He was flushed and angry-looking, his hand providing little relief. His lips connected with yours unexpectedly, your nails finding their way to his back. His chest rumbled at the sensation.

You broke the kiss when he ran his tip across your folds. You gasped against him, your eyes immediately traveling down his strong torso to between your thighs. “John,” you gasped softly, your legs spreading a little wider for him. He was teasing you. Applying just enough pressure to make you whine but not enough to really cause any pleasure. He shushed you, his lips dancing across your cheek like he was apologizing for not giving you what you needed.

He sat up suddenly, grabbing you by your thighs so you were sitting with your back against his chest, his cock heavy against your bottom. His hands held your thighs apart, rubbing up and down them soothingly. His thumb skimmed against your clit, before pressing down, giving you the sensation you were so desperately chasing. You pressed your hand against your lips, but it was quickly pulled away.

“Don’t shy away now,” he hummed, as your hips began to move away from his hand. “Need you to relax for this part, pretty girl,” he directed. The feeling of his thumb against you was enough to distract you from the finger prodding at your entrance. He sunk in slowly, your copious amount of slick making it less of a challenge. He cursed under his breath at the tightness around his finger. “Gotta work you open, pretty,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

You removed your head from under his chin, your eyes slowly opening, connecting with his through the mirror on the closet door. You moaned at the contact, your eyes scanning lower to his hand between your thighs.

“Like watching yourself?” he chuckled, keeping his gaze steady. He began working another finger in creating a slight burning sensation. He went slow feeling the way your walls adjusted to him. He growled against your neck, practically able to feel you wrapped around his cock. The burn faded as he curled his fingers, brushing against a spot that made your head fall back against his shoulder. “That's it hmmm?” he smiled against your shoulder. The tightness in your stomach was returning. Your hand gripped his wrist between your thighs, your hips grinding against him. “Look at yourself, pretty,” he commanded, his hazy eyes watching your reaction as he pumped his fingers. You complied, watching yourself unravel. “Little more, princess. Can feel you shaking around me.”

A tidal wave crashed over you, your hand nearly ripping him away. He was stronger than you, keeping his thumb against you as you shook in his arms. He growled praises against your ear, watching carefully as you worked through your high.

He was a lucky man.

You rolled over, and he accommodated by laying on his back. You panted against his stomach, the fire in your belly still hardly fading. You were getting thrown more and more into your heat. John could smell it on you. Your teeth scraped against his chest, pressing a few ‘thank you’ kisses against him. You sat up, your thighs on either side of him. He guided you so you were propped up and you watched with murky eyes as his cock immediately sprung to rest against his stomach. You suddenly felt guilty. He had given you two earth-shattering orgasms and you had hardly given him any attention.

He guided your hips back down so he was nestled perfectly between your folds. You got the hint and began rocking your hips back and forth, earning a groan from both of you.

“That's it, pretty girl, just like that,” he groaned. You were so warm, your drooling cunt making it so easy for him to slide back and forth. He cursed, his hands running up your sides. His thumbs brushed over your nipples making you lose your rhythm. He growled, flipping the two of you over so he was on top resting between your thighs. “Can’t take much more, love,” he breathed.

“I’m ready,” you panted, your hands pressed against his abdomen.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” he requested, causing you to nod your head. He paused for a moment, shifting you so you could watch yourself in the mirror. Just the sight of him on top of you, your legs spread wide for him made you pulse. “Not fair I get this beautiful sight to myself,” he whispered against your cheek. You whined, your back arching off the bed. He angled himself against you, the tip of his cock already spreading you as much as his fingers had.

“John,” you gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kept you close, his hold on you assuring and unwavering, despite the way his body trembled. You groaned, the stretch seemingly never-ending. You could feel every twitch as he rolled his way in.

“So bloody tight,” he cursed, his mouth hanging open in bliss. “Doing so good for me,” he praised. It wasn't a sharp pain like you were expecting, but it burned. Your face pressed against his shoulder, his back marked with crimson ropes. He had finally worked his way inside you, your walls desperately trying to adjust. He imagined it would hurt more if he stayed stationary inside you. He moved his hips back slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you. He moved his shoulder away, pressing his forehead against yours. You were uncomfortable, the sight making his alpha restless.

He pushed back in, the friction making you squirm.

“John,” you whined. He rolled his hips back and forth slowly, adding more distance with each thrust. He was halfway buried inside you, rolling his hips forward in one swift motion. Your eyes fell shut, your mouth parting with a moan of his name.

“That's it, pretty,” he groaned, repeating the action. The stretch that had made it almost unbearable was causing pleasure to scorch through your veins with every thrust. “Fuckin’ made for me weren’t ya,’” he groaned. It wasn't even a question at this point, it was a fact. Your cunt molding to fit him. Your heels pressed against his back, hoping to lessen the time he wasn't buried inside you.

You opened your mouth, the words you were wanting to say being ruined by a sloppy moan.

“What, pretty,” he pressed. “Talk to me.”

“Feels so good,” you whined pitifully.

“Yeah?” he growled, his strong hips snapping against you. His pace had picked up, his thrusts becoming more and more purposeful. His thumb skimmed across the corner of your lip, swiping away your drool. “What feels good?” he questioned. You could hardly think, let alone voice those thoughts.

“Your cock,” you managed, your whole body flushed from pleasure and embarrassment. He held your chin gently, moving your head so you had the perfect view of him rolling in and out of you in the mirror. His pace had slowed down again, not wanting to rush this moment in the slightest. “Alpha,” you whined, your hands gripping the wrist that was still holding your chin.

“Look so good with my cock in you, don't you?” his voice was tender, his lips pressed against the shell of your ear.

His hand left your face, his thumb finding a familiar rhythm between your legs.

“Too much,” you gasped, but made no move to stop him, your body becoming more and more addicted to this new euphoric high. “Cum in me,” you pleaded, causing his hips to stutter against you. “Please,” you begged, looking up at him through wet lashes. He wasn't deep enough in a rut to give you a knot, but that doesn't mean he couldn't fill you to the hilt.

“Whatever you need, love,” he soothed. You were shaking. Your claws had already shredded the sheets. “Gonna be a good girl and come on my cock?” he asked. The only thing you could do was nod. You were focusing on it too much, your brows furrowed waiting for the tension in your stomach to release. He smacked your bottom, catching you off guard for the wave of your orgasm to finally wash over you. You gushed around him, a shriek leaving you as your walls spasmed around him eliciting his own release. He came with a booming groan, his vision spotting from the intensity.

His arms giving out from under him sinking both of you into the mattress.

It took ten minutes for both of you to calm down.

“You alright?” he checked, his fingers running over your heated cheek.

“Yeah,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around his still-twitching form. “You?”

“Gonna be honest, sweetheart. Never had anything like that,” he panted, placing kisses against any skin he could reach. You believed him. While this was your first time, you knew this wasn't the standard. He had softened out of you, his cum leaving you in a puddle. “Let's get you cleaned up,” he soothed, hoisting you up.

He decided on a bath this time. His hands working against your skin to clean away the mess he had made. You had fallen asleep against him in the tub, happy omega filtering through the air, making him purr. He stayed there till your skin began to prune. It has been a long time since he's been this content. Not that his boys didn't make him happy. You were different, you were his omega. The missing piece of the puzzle. The piece that held peace, safety, and comfort. Kate was right when she said she could smell it on them- their need for an omega. He had been a fool for going this long without one. But if he had done it too soon he wouldn't have ended up with you.

He tucked the two of you in, curling himself around you hoping to get some purrs out of you. Even in your sleep, you could recognize the safety of his arms, a purr of appreciation rumbling through your lax body.

“I love you,” he murmured against the crown of your head, slowly slipping off into his own hibernation.

“Something I need to talk to the two of you about,” Kyle sighed. The three of them had moved outside just after the first few muffled moans vibrated against the door.

Johnny opened his eyes, looking up at Kyle whilst his head was resting in his lap. Simon grunted in acknowledgment.

“You looked at her tracking app lately?” Kyle questioned, causing both of them to shake their heads. Of course not, you had been with them for the past two weeks. “I thought it was a glitch at first, or maybe the app had accidentally connected to someone else's chip, but it was labeled under her name,” Kyle explained. Johnny sat up.

“What was labeled?” he urged, his heart falling into his stomach. He and Simon shared a look.

“Another chip,” Kyle clarified. Simon's jaw clenched.

“What does that mean?” he snipped. “She has another chip?”

“She said she never had one,” Johnny reminded, his stomach growing uneasy. He had always been the quickest to jump to emotions.

“Or she has one she doesn't know about.”

Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! See you in two days for chapter 23!!!! 🧡

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

headcanons for every leon

Inspired by this post

content: spitting, slapping, biting, handcuffs, public-ish sex, degradation, oral sex, LEON SLUT KENNEDY

word count: 722

Re 2 Leon likes hickies. Every Leon would probably like them, but 21 year old Leon is young enough to get away with them. He likes when you mark him and tell him that you’re going to ‘make him yours’ because he’s so proud to have a pretty girl like you as his girlfriend (or whatever your relationship may be). When you let him do the same for you, he feels honored, he thinks he doesn’t deserve it, but he loves the idea of you being his and only his.

Re 4 Leon is still young and fun. He doesn’t go out on the town often, but when he does, he loves fucking you in semi-public places. In the car, in a bathroom stall, in a broom closet. He’d even finger you in the movie theater if he thought you could get away with it. Honestly, the thought of getting caught gets him off, though. He especially likes the fact that you have to be quiet because it’s easy for him with the composure he’s developed over the years, but you, on the other hand, have to try to be quiet. And Leon makes it difficult on purpose. He fucks you hard, so that he has to put his hand over your mouth. It’s all under the guise of ‘we have to do this quickly if we don’t want to get caught’, but really he wants to make you moan.

ID Leon is the most arrogant Leon in my opinion. He knows he’s hot and he uses it to his advantage. It’s not that he’s mean, but if you consent to it, he’d 100% be into degrading you - calling you a ‘slut’ or a ‘whore’, telling you how pathetic you look and how nasty you are for letting him do these things to you. He would also be the type of guy who likes a woman wearing lingerie. He’s not submissive, but he’d let you take control if you put on a show for him. He’d like high heels and fishnets, and if you wore them out he’d go back to being his RE 4 self and fuck you in the nearest semi-private area, while calling you a slut for letting him have you in public.   

Re 6 Leon likes to spit in your mouth when he’s inside you. He grabs your chin and forces you to look him in the eye while he spits into your mouth. Sometimes he’ll close your mouth for you, so you have to swallow it. If you were on top and you tried to spit in his mouth, he would initially be shocked and possibly off-put - or at least, he’d act that way - but secretly he’d like it. 

Damnation Leon just wants his breakfast, and by breakfast, I mean pussy in the morning! But he’s lazy af, so he’d want you to sit on his face. He’d also like it if you brought him actual breakfast in bed. A blowjob in a sexy apron would be the cherry on top. 

Vendetta Leon is constantly frustrated, and he’d love to give you a good spanking. But, if you’d let him, he’d go further and give you a nice slap in the face, too - the kind that stings a little, but doesn’t leave a bruise. He’d still be careful with you. And, if you ever slapped him back, he’d go red in the face - not just because of the slap, he’d be totally embarrassed. He’d be embarrassed because he liked it. A lot. He might try to deny it, but his dick would twitch and you’d know. 

DI Leon has fully embraced his submissive tendencies. Sure, he can be a soft dom! if that’s what you want, but he loves exploring his submissive side. He wants to be handcuffed to the headboard and have you ride him. I don’t know how he’d feel about punishment, but I think he’d like to be edged, and he would act like that’s a form of punishment. I think, like most, if not all, versions of Leon, he’s loud, and he’s whiny when you edge him, pretending like he hates it, but you know he doesn’t because he’s practically drooling. He’d be like ‘you’re so mean’ and you’d be like ‘if you think I’m so mean, then why is your cock leaking?’*

*yes, this is from not old enough chapter 4

[starlost97]

— distractions.

summary: You always hated when Max got into fights, and because of that, he stopped. However, when you came into question, he just couldn't help it.

tags: fluff, Max Verstappen (almost) fights, Max Verstappen is protective, walk him like a dog vibes, 2018!Max Verstappen, gn!reader.

characters: Max Verstappen.

warnings: almost a fight, lots of swearing, shoving.

a/n: I remember having so much fun writing this one! the prompt was "them hearing someone talking shit about you while you're not near". I didn't write what they said (just wrote that they said something)! also this one's a part of the shortfics series (that I desperately need a name to) as well!

word count: 491.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

Max was known for his temper. At 21 years old he still got into fights, and for some time there was nothing that could stop him.

Then he met you, an incredibly sweet person that — for some reason — fell in love with him almost as hard as he fell in love with you. So now he had a reason to think before doing.

Still, when he heard someone muttering all the things that they would do to you, every piece of self-control that he had broke to pieces.

"What did you just say?” He asked, his voice a bit louder than usual. “Are you fucking deaf? What the fuck did you just say?”

“You are hearing things, Verstappen.” The man said, now a bit more courageous as he stepped closer with his hands in his pockets.

“Why don't you act like the man you pretend to be and own what you just fucking said?” Max said, shoving him hard against the wall.

“What's your fucking problem?” The guy asked, now getting angry.

“My problem?! You are asking me what my problem is.” Max asked, more to himself as he tried to process what he just heard. “I’ll show you exactly what my fucking problem is.” He said, violently grabbing the guy's collar and shoving him against the wall one more time. Max was angry enough to break the man's nose right there, but then, he heard a familiar voice.

“Max!”

In seconds, the guy was on the floor. Max didn't even hesitate to let him go and turn his attention to you, who had your arms crossed and looked at him with a look of disapproval.

“You know I don't like when you get into fights.” You said, making Max smile.

“I'm so sorry, babe. When he started talking shit about you… God, it was stronger than me.” He said, caressing your cheek with his thumb and kissing your forehead. He let his eyes linger around your features for a bit. “How can you be so pretty? I can't comprehend it.”

Someone might say that he was trying to change the subject so he doesn't get in trouble, but truly, everything about you was a distraction factor. Your rosy lips and how kisseable they are, the way your hair looks and feels so soft against his fingers, and your eyes…

God, your eyes.

Max was going crazy, really. One of his favorite things about you — even before you started dating — would be your eyes. And now when they look at him carrying such love…

Max likes to talk about how not even the greatest of the poets could express the feeling that those pretty eyes conveyed him.

“What were we talking about?” He asks, genuinely, as he comes back to reality, making you chuckle.

“Nothing important.” Max smiles at your answer, getting distracted once again by your pretty lips, which he gently kissed, now distracting you too.

[petew21-blog]

Revenge possession

Devon was your normal college guy, who also had a god like body on the other hand. His life wasn't very special in many ways. He had two brothers and one sister. All born in USA, moving the states a lot. All had an unproblematic childhood. Everytime a problem occured it would be solved by itself almost immediately or the parents would take care of it. Speaking of the parents I have to mention one tiny detail.

Their parents. How to put this? Their parents were a lovely pair, highschool sweethearts, very good looking. The only downside was that they were serial killers.

And that brings the story to me. Hey, I'm Jake and I was hitchhiking in California back then when Devon's seemingly fine parents picked me and then brutally murdered me in the forest. Kinda dark right? Yeah. I was a 21 year old guy with my life ahead of me and they ended in a few minutes just to have some thrilling disgusting moment in their life.

My ghost has been roaming the world for another 20 years. I was trying to find the family to have my revenge. But everytime I got close they moved their family to another state. That also included the problems the family didn't have. The parents would always eliminate the one who caused the problems.

But now I found them. Or atleast their children. Even though I had 20 years to plan my revenge, but I couldn't plan much. I was going through the house. The parents were on a holiday if I understood correctly. So I had time to find out a bit more about their life

I was exploring the house when I found Devon here, playing videogames in his room. He was playing just in his shorts. His shirtless body showed his tense muscles as he was getting really into the game

This could be it. I don't have to possess the parents. I could have my revenge from his body. And it would be kind of poetic justice. My life ended when I was 21, if I possess their sons body and take away his life it would be a perfect revenge. Of course, I would still have to interrupt the killing of the parents.

Now or never. Revenge awaits

I sunk into him. His controller fell on the ground, the inactivity making him loose. He was really tough. Maybe I should have practiced the possession on someone weaker, but I couldn't risk that I would stay in that body and couldn't get my revenge.

We fought for an hour. His body contorting on the couch, sweat dripping from everywhere. His socks wet. Fuck yeah! I can feel His feet already. I moved them. They were mine! This little moment of win gave me enough power to push and place Devon in the back of his mind. I could still hear him. He was begging me to stop. Begging to let go. But no. This is my body now.

"I... I am Devon" I said with a mischievous smile. I looked down at the sweaty body. My enormous arms searched the trail of sweat. I flexed them. I could feel how tired Devon got from the possession. Hell, I was tired.

But I had much to do. Revenge couldn't wait. Then my eyes trailed the abs I now possessed. "Maybe revenge can wait"

My new hand got very close to my waitsband. I lifted it up to find a beautiful uncut 8inch dick

"Daaamn son, you're packing"

I got hard and wanted to jerk off right there. This beautiful thing can't be left unattended. But I got really thirsty. The fight left Devon's body in a horrible state.

I went to the kitchen. The only cold thing I found was a can of beer. I chugged it instantly, my new mouth still not used to me didn't respond very well, so most of the liquid poured over my chest right down the trail of my abs.

"Time for shower"

As I was standing in the shower I was in awe and glee. So many years of wondering where my killers were. Years of being a ghost and not enjoying life. Now I have this amazing gift of a body.

As the shower sprayed water over my muscles I jerked off my hard monster with both hands. Furiously and pressing it hard. I hoped that no one else was home today, cause I was screaming in pleasure. So many years without orgasms. I felt Devon in the back of my mind trying to resist it. He felt the pleasure too. But didn't want to let go of the rest of the control he had.

"Don't worry Devon. I'll take care of your body. I don't wanna hurt you. I just wanna hurt your parents"

My big balls had to work overtime. I jerked off three times at that shower. Almost no hot water left for anyone else to shower, but I didn't care. I stepped out, not even cleaning the cum on the glass and the floor of the shower

I approached the mirror and with my hand scraped a hit of the fog on the mirror to observe myself.

Damn what a fine specimen I am right now. This is gonna be so amazing

"I can help you" echoed in the back of my mind

"Help with what?" I answered

Devon:"I can help you pass as me more easily to fool my parents so that you can get revenge on them. While you were jerking off I saw your memories. And I also know what my parents do. Or atleast I suspected it for a long time. Now I have proof"

Me:"So I am to believe that you'll just let me be in your body willingly and help me get your parents? How can I trust you that you won't warn them?"

Devon:"You can't. But I can offer you my body. We can share it. I always felt alone in my life and sharing a body with a likeminded person isn't such a bad destiny for myself. I really enjoyed the shower session. And if you give me a tiny bit o lf control I can show you something that you haven't done in your body back then"

I hesitated. All this time it was only about revenge. I never thought about what would happen after. Now I had an amazing body and I could do the right thing. If I would just possess him entirely I wouldn't be better than his parents. I would take his life from him just like they did with me. The co-piloting thing wasn't a bad idea. But what if he rats me out to them?

Me:"Ok, I'm in. I don't want to hurt you kid. But I can't let your parents hurt any more young guys like me. If they are on a killimg spree again we have to stop them"

Devon:"I agree. But they are coming back in a few days and until then, I can show you what you were missing"

I gave him control. He didn't fight, which was a good sign. And now he went back to his room, opening a drawer. It contained sk many sex toys I never even had a chance to know and feel

Devon:"Revenge can wait. It's time to have some fun"

[haeryna]

thinking about idol!gojo and rockstar!geto (tw: mentions of underage drinking, implied abandonment, implied homophobia from gojo's parents, vague mentions of illness)

how you three, along with shoko, lived in the same ratty small town in the middle of nowhere. you'd moved when you were six, all shy and scared of the house your parents had moved to in order to help your sick grandmother that you barely remembered because the last time you'd seen her was when you were four. you were from the city; you'd never seen fireflies, or grass that stretched out as far as your eyes could see, and so when you saw the first firefly appear just as the sky turned to dusk, how were you supposed to resist it?

so you chased it down to the creek, all smiles and filled with excitement, until you realized it was dark, and you were in the forest, and you were scared. you couldn't help but start to cry, and that's where geto found you.

"are you lost?"

sniffling, you peered up at the dark haired boy, whose soft brown eyes filled with a sort of concern. "y-yeah," you hiccupped, and geto offers up a gentle smile. "it's okay, i know the way back."

and so, you'd taken his hand, let him tug you out of the creek bed, and lead you back toward the house that still didn't quite feel like home. you'd learn, his name was suguru. suguru geto, and wherever suguru geto was, satoru gojo was never too far behind (although you didn't know that, yet).

"you crying?"

you'd let out a startled yelp, still clinging to suguru's hand, twisting to look at the other boy who was staring at you with unrestrained curiosity. even at the age of six, you found him beautiful, with the piercing blue of his eyes, and the soft white down of his hair, even as he mocked you. satoru hadn't known how else to express the sort of silent jealousy that had torn its way through his chest once he saw you holding suguru's hand.

the two of you bickered, all the way back until they left you at your front door, much to suguru's displeasure. yet satoru was beaming; nobody but suguru and shoko dared to speak to him that way. he was too young to understand the way his heart seemed to churn every moment he saw you after .

later, you would meet shoko ieiri, who instantly took a liking to you, defending you with the stubbornness of an older sister you never had.

later, you would realize just how beautiful suguru and satoru were, as they grew. you were the one who pierced suguru's ears (a decision made at 1am in his basement), who bought satoru his first eyeshadow palette (his parents would have died if they'd ever see him use it). and it was eventually you who brought them into music, as you stared up at the ceiling of suguru's basement. the lights grew hazy as you blinked up at them, empty bottles of stolen beer surround you. suguru and shoko were busy smoking a pack of (also stolen) cigarettes, and satoru was on his phone.

"what if we like. made a band?"

you were only 16, and dreamed of leaving the small town you'd moved to. the temporary stay had turned permanent after your grandmother had inevitably passed. shoko immediately snorted. "i love you, but i can't sing for shit."

but you were persistent. you thrifted an old guitar that you gave to suguru as a birthday present, encouraged satoru's angelic singing.

you should have known they would outgrow you.

you're 21 now, still living in the old house, taking care of your parents. the dreams you'd had years ago turned into ash in your mouth. even shoko had left, off to pursue medical school.

you can't stomach looking at the news anymore. satoru has broken into the idol industry, creating equal amounts of chart toppers and scandals. an idol like that only comes once every one hundred years, they say. with the way he moves, the way he acts, you're inclined to believe it.

(when you watch him for the first time, on some variety show, you see him, see the way they've done his makeup, and you're brought back to sitting on the couch, telling him to stop moving or he'll mess up the eyeshadow you attempting to apply. you wonder if his parents were furious at the decision. you wonder where the eyeshadow palette you gave him went. did he take it with him before he left for good? bile rises heavy in your throat, and you shut off the television, unable to stomach it any longer.)

the radio is equally as traitorous. you know suguru has been dominating the indie charts, to the point where it's simply suguru and satoru competing against each other. you hate how whenever you go to the local bakery, you can hear his voice again playing through the speakers. hate how when you make the long drive to pick up your parents' medicine, how you can hear him through your car's speakers. it feels intimate in a way that you cannot bear.

(still, you hear the guitar and remember the look in his eyes when you gifted him the one you'd found in the thrift store. suguru had treated it reverently, telling you with an earnest sort of smile that, "the first song i write will be for you." he's traded out acoustics for rock. he has no need for that guitar anymore, you think absentmindedly. just like he no longer needed you.)

but what you don't know is that every time satoru's makeup artist gets to his eyes, he has to keep them firmly shut or else he'd burst into tears. she didn't do it like you. she never would. every time he steps onto the stage, he looks for you, though he knows he'll never find you. it never stops him from looking. how he sings his heart out in the hopes you'll hear him, unaware that despite his popularity, you avoid his music like it's deadly.

what you don't know is that every time suguru writes, he realizes how he lied to you. "the first song i'll write will be for you," he remembers, and yet now every song he writes is about you. now, girls he doesn't even know, screams his name, screams along to his songs that he wrote for you. they pretend that they're the girl who was left behind, the girl that he's never stopped loving.

(he'll never forget the way your hand fit into his, how even at the age of six he knew that you were the only one who ever had his heart along with satoru)

how on days he misses you particularly badly, the piercings you'd given him burns. he writes his love into his music, the music that you shut off every time you hear it come on the radio.

it changes nothing, if they come back, you tell yourself. suguru and satoru have each other. they don't need you.

but one day they do come back, come back for you, and it changes everything.

[missmastectomy]

I've been meeting more and more 21-24 year old trans people and so many of them are just so... childish?? They still act like teenagers. And at first I was judgemental of them. I do not respect that they are grown adults that continue acting this way.

But I've also learned that a lot of them started transitioning at 14, 15, 16, etc. So fucking young. Indoctrinated and put on this horrific medical malpractice train that they just can't get off of. There's a really disturbing lack of self-reflection that baffled me until I realized that transition has basically stunted them.

This applies more for the ~everyone is valid uwu~ crowd than the transmedicalists, who usually want to just move on with their lives. But these people are stuck in this ideological bubble where they cut out anyone who disagrees with them. They reject anything that makes them feel uncomfortable, that threatens their perception of their gender, which is so fragile that it can't be held under scrutiny. And they know it. It's why the act the way they do. Allowing their views about gender and the world at large to develop would also mean leaving behind their zealotry. They cannot do this because of how invested, physically and socially, they have become in this ideology. Leaving it behind would mean loss of friends, loss of ego, maybe even a full detransition. It would mean death.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

My baby, my baby…

Summary: Leon is a man pushing 40 and you’re a girl in her early 20s. You confessed your feelings but things went south.

Warning: age gap. literally any older version of Leon. reader is young. female reader. haha guess what? it’s sad again.

a/n: I love mitski <3 still mad I didn’t go to her concert. Guys I love writing, I feel like I’m god waiting for shit to happen. TEEHEE.🤭 also, should I make a part two with smut?

(pt.1) (pt.2)

“You're my baby, say it to me” - Mitski, I Bet On Losing Dogs

You hated him. Well not really. You just hated the way he made you feel when you two were in the same room. Your heart beat faster and you felt your face grow hot. You had butterflies in your stomach every time he did something. And you felt stupid because he’s a man twice your age.

You did what you always think is best, avoid him. To which you failed miserably. You both worked on the same team on the DSO, of course you were bound to be next to him. It was as if the universe was mocking you. You couldn’t help but feel guilty. This man, poor innocent man, probably doesn’t know that he has someone so much younger after him. He must be worried about missions and not dying, while you were here crushing over him.

It didn’t help the way he would talk to you, distant but polite. He didn’t hate you, he just thought you were too young to experience such a miserable life the DSO puts on its agents. He wants you to live life. To be a normal girl in her early 20s. He wanted you to have the life he wished he had. He wished you would live your 21st year way differently than when he was 21.

But those thoughts remained unspoken. Neither of you actually spoke about anything besides work and missions. You tried to find excuses to talk to him but he would just stare at you in silence as you talked. He wasn’t mad, he just stood there. (Like this lol🧍‍♂️)

Professional and polite conversations turned into jokes. One time, during a meeting, you were sitting next to Leon and the poor man looked like he didn’t get an ounce of sleep. Chris was talking about some mission in Antarctica and Leon couldn’t help but grumble a stupid joke about all the penguin shit roaming around. It was such a stupid joke but you laughed. When Leon heard you laugh, he turned his head your direction and stared at you with a raised brow. He smirked to himself and laughed a little bit. It was funny to both of you.

From that moment, he became more warm towards you. When he saw you, he would nod at him. And you being you, a delusional lover, gushed about how much he is in love with you.

You managed to break the ice exterior he had because he would look at you with soft eyes every time you got near him.

-

But things changed when you confessed your feelings to him. The softness in his eyes disappeared and he looked at you with the same distant look he had. “I’m too old for you, y/n…” He spoke with a quiet but firm tone. The two of you were currently alone in some room inside the DSO building. You thought this was the perfect time to let your feelings out.

He took a step towards you and stood in front of you, “You should focus on someone your age, sweetheart,” He mumbled as he brought his hand to your face and brushed some strands of hair behind your ear. He then ran his hand down your cheek with a gentle touch. You couldn’t help but lean into it. His thumb gently grazes against your bottom lip as he ran his fingers around your side of your face.

You were upset, you wanted him despite the age gap. “Please… I only want you,” you whispered and leaned into the palm of his hand.

Leon stared at you and then sighed as he brought his hand down your chin to lift it up more. He wanted to see those beautiful eyes of yours, even if they began to show how sad you were. “It’s wrong for me to have you,” he whispered gently as he examines your face.

You felt your eyes become full of emotion, “It’s not fair…” your voice came out strained and barely audible, it was a miracle Leon still understood you.

"I know." Leon sighed, unable to keep himself from looking you with a soft look. You were his soft spot after all, "Trust me; nothing would please me more than to be with you..."

“Then let me have this one chance…please?” You begged with pleading eyes. "I shouldn't," he breathed, eyes traveling down to your lips before returning to scan your face, "It wouldn't be right for me to take advantage of you..."

“I want you to take advantage of me, to use me… I just want to be yours,” you whispered as your eyes shifted down to his lips and then back to his eyes.

"You're sure about this?" His breathing quickened as his eyelids drew heavy, his gaze locked onto the soft curve of your lips. You nodded, “I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t sure,” you whispered as your hand intertwined with his.

He squeezed your hand, and with a slight shrug of his shoulders, he leaned down until your faces were just mere inches apart.

He breathed slowly, eyes scanning your gaze, "Promise me one thing..."

You stared at his eyes and nodded, “yeah?”

"Promise me..." He breathed out slowly, allowing himself to lean in closer to you until his breathing was near whisper. "...That you will not regret this.”

“I won’t,” you whispered as you closed your eyes and felt Leon's lips finally make contact with yours, kissing for the very first time. It was a gentle, tender caress that made your cheeks flush with color, his broad hands gently resting on your hips while the tips of his fingers grazed the skin of your waist. You brought your hands to his broad shoulders and rested them there. You felt your knees grow weak from the gentleness of the kiss. His lips felt so soft against yours, he tasted the flavor of your chapstick and he couldn’t help but love it even more.

He sighed against your lips as the gentleness of the kiss began to build into something more passionate. His lips pressed against yours firmly, a hand cupping your chin to keep your face closer. His lips parted slowly, urging your lips to part as well. When you felt his lips part and his tongue press on your bottom lip, you gasped and he dived his tongue right into your mouth. His tongue finally danced against your tongue, inviting a response back from you. Your grip on his shoulders increased ever so slightly as you moaned in the kiss, sending the vibrations to his tongue as both your tongues danced passionately.

He moaned softly in response, his hands sliding around to your back once more holding you as close to him as he could. His tongue continued to swirl around your mouth, gently sucking at your bottom lip. His hold on you was strong and firm, a silent command to stay pressed against him. His hold on you only grew stronger as he kept you pressed up against his body. A hand ran through your hair, keeping your head held in place. His tongue and lips continued the dance of teasing and pleasing, your own lips responding in kind. The passion built within his embrace, his breath growing labored and his heart beating rapidly against his chest. It felt so surreal.

You moved your hands down to his chest and gently pulled back to catch your breath. You panted as you tried to breathe and remain focused. Your brain felt mushy from how good the kiss was. You finally got the chance to taste his lips.

His lips parted from yours, and he breathed out slowly, his breathing rapid and throat parched. His hand slid to your lower back as he kept you pressed close to him. He brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, then gently tucked it back behind your ear. "Are you ok?" He whispered, voice still strained, but his body relaxing slightly.

You nodded and breathed out a small “yes,”

Leon let his grip on you loosen slightly, allowing a small distance to form between the two of you. He brushed the side of your face, and his hand moved to grasp yours.

"Good," He whispered slowly, his gaze falling to your lips, "So very good..." he sighed and let his hand slid back down your back before letting go, "Forgive me if I got a little carried away..." He took in a deep breath, his voice now returning to a normal tone, "I've wanted to do that for a very long time..."

You eyes nestled bulged out of their sockets after he said that, “You did?” You asked softly in disbelief.

He nodded slowly, his gaze flicking between yours, “Yes. Ever since the moment we first met, I was attracted to you, even though I knew it was wrong. I wanted you, wanted to hold you close, kiss you, and make you mine…” his eyes growing distant, "I've wanted you..." He took a deep breath, then gently caressed your chin with a hand, his lips gently grazing your forehead.

You closed your eyes and felt the softness of his lips plant a kiss on your forehead. A gesture so gentle and soft it could bring anyone to their knees.

He breathed out slowly, closing his eyes for a second before opening them to peek at you through his lids. He raised a brow and sighed, adjusting the hold on your chin to gently tip your head up.

"But as I said, I'm too old for you," he brushed his fingers across your jawline, "And I fear that our relationship would be met with judgment and ridicule..." he looked at you with saddened eyes. He wished he could kiss you anytime, to be with you in public and not have to worry about the judgment. In his eyes, you were the most beautiful woman to ever step foot on earth. It was sad, really. How much love he had for you but he hid it for your sake. He loves you so much he didn’t want you to get hurt.

You furrowed your brows together and looked at him with those sad eyes of yours. But his heart ached the most with the strain of your voice, “I don’t care what anyone says…”

"But you should," he replied softly, "You're still young... You should find someone closer to your age,” he caressed your cheek once again as he looked into your eyes "What about your family?" He sighed, "What if your parents disagree with us? They'd say that I'm taking advantage of you and manipulating you because you're young..."

“Leon, please, I’m an adult. I can make my own choices…” you whispered with a sad tone, “I don’t care if you’re 20 years older than me. I want you… dare I say I love you…”

Leon fell silent as your words sank into him. He froze in place, for a few moments, he was speechless, his facial expressions shifting through multiple emotions.

"Love me?" He whispered, leaning down towards you, "Y/n… you don’t love me. You love the idea of me you have in your head.” He whispered softly as he caressed your cheek once again. His voice so soft and tender and full of sadness.

Your throat was caught up into a knot. Did you screw things over already? Or were they already screwed up before this began?

You bit your bottom lip to contain the threatening tears that were about to spill. He saw this and gently brought his thumb over to the corner of your eyes and wiped them for you.

“I love you…” you nodded and felt your eyes get glossy, “I love you, Leon…” you whispered, “This feeling I have… it’s controlling me. I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. I need you…”

“Don’t cry, angel,” he whispered as he kissed your forehead again and gave you a sad smile. “How do you know this is not just infatuation?”

You stared into his blue eyes deeply, “Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone before..”

His eyes were locked onto yours, a million thoughts running through his head. As much as he wanted to be with you, this was never meant to happen. You’re way too young. You needed someone else, someone better than him. He sighed and looked out the window. What was once a sunny day became a rainy one. He looked back down at you.

"Go home, y/n…" he whispered.

He let go of your face and took a step back. You watched him go with sad eyes, you wanted to chase after him so badly but you felt frozen in place. It was bittersweet. You got the kiss you wanted but at the cost of him leaving you.

You sniffled and cried silently as you walked out of the building and to the bus stop. You put on your headphones and began to listen to some music while you watched the raindrops race down the window.

Leon watched you from the second floor window. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart. He knew you’d cry but he couldn’t let you get too attached to someone like him. He was broken, never meant to be fixed again. While you were everything. In another universe, maybe the two of you could’ve been together.