#i'm back just footnote

[brinnanza]

it's like good and fine and great that people are reading my gomens fic along with the airing of the second season of the show BUT ALSO get religion quick was written FOR THE BOOK and was written BEFORE the show even came out stop tellin me about neilmans modern au in the comments sorry he left it on a cliffhanger but I'm doing my own thing over here crowley rezzed that dove so help me god

[irrepressible-miracle]

I keep thinking about the similarities and differences Miquella and PCR have with Allmind and G5 iguazu respectively and how one works within the game and was better recieved while the other, not so much.

[lyssafreyguy]

God . . . imagine thinking Laios is a bad person who doesn't care about people. actual insanity.

[bigboobshaunt]

Idunno! Alex and Sandra are soooo clearly both alter-egos to Alexandra* that I can't help but feel any read that would treat them as different people is very disingenuous, like... their genderfluidity is a reference to the color-changing nature of their alexandrite core, it could not be any clearer...

[kaymarie-bell]

How to dou play twst? Is there a way I translate as you play?

Hi there!

1. Although I'm not fluent in Japanese, I do have an okay understanding of spoken conversations, so on my first playthrough I mostly rely on the VAs acting and characters' visuals to know what's happening.

2. Whenever I'm not sure what the dialogue is, I use the camera in my old phone to translate the screen in my current phone in real time.

I try to use a couple of different apps/sites at the same time because digital translators are never 100% accurate. Google Translate sucks a lot of the time, so I wouldn't rely on it entirely to begin with. I use Naver Papago and DeepL Translator, also Jisho . org for quick vocab lookups. These are just reference tools that could never really replace actually studying and learning the language, but they get the job done if you only need them for personal use and you understand the limitations they have.

3. What I find the most reliable while playing is the commentary/translations of real people who are actually fluent in the language. Since twst is a popular game, you can find a lot of real-time reactions/translations on places like twitter when updates drop.

If you're willing to wait a couple of days to read the chapters, there are also some really dedicated people here on Tumblr and/or YouTube who go out of their way to translate hours of gameplay for free just because they love the game. (I love them with my whole heart, I know how time-consuming this is 💖)

A lot of people just complete the gameplay and then go for fan translations to actually read the story!

In conclusion: where there's a will, there's a way 🌻

(more to read in the tags)

[scarletfasinera]

Really enjoying this book I'm reading about Modern European sculpture so if you see me reblogging a bunch of photos of abstract figural sculptures from 1918-1945 mind your BUSINESS‼

[workofthediesel]

i've received positive feedback so go ahead and check this shit out

i had to post it as a link because it has to be opened as a pdf because that's the only way i could get it to show the formatting correctly and the formatting is like 80% of the story. also i assure you that despite the name, this is 100% a comedic fictional short story

anyway i wrote this for one of my college creative writing classes and my professor was a little bit pissed with me about it after and personally i think that makes it better

[mzap]

[ssahotchnerr]

public displays of affection - aaron hotchner x reader

the aaron take on the derek/penelope workplace seminar (episode of reference: 9x12)

cw; bau!reader, established relationship, suggestiveness, small allusions to sex, fluff <3, bau family banter, aaron being mortified😭, references to the episode wc; 1.4k

"penny," you shut one of your files, placing it in your desktop organizer. "you're creating a draft."

"this is bad. oh so very very bad." she stammered, continuing to pace back and forth, "i'm just mentally preparing myself to be humiliated in front of the entire unit. for the second time, may i add. god, who blabbed this time?

"what did you even do?" spencer chimed in, his head lifting from his current read.

"i don't know." she exclaimed, an exasperated breath leaving her. "nothing out of the ordinary, so that means anything is possible. you," she pointed at morgan, who casually was making his way over to the rest of you. "we're in big trouble."

"this could be totally unrelated." jj reassured her. you agreed, giving penelope a nod and a hopeful smile. "there was no footnote on what this meeting consisted of."

"well, there was no footnote last time. and to this day, i still get asked what flarpy blunderguff means." she huffed, crossing her arms and turning towards derek. "i love you my hunk of a man, but this. this is a nightmare."

as two began rolling around, the bullpen filled in anticipation for the seminar, a light hum in the room as conversations were exchanged back and forth in waiting.

in addition, a presence soon stilled beside you. one always familiar, but surprising under the current circumstances.

"what are you doing here?" you looked up to find aaron's gentle eyes. he took a seat on the edge of your desk, just behind your chair.

meetings like these - usually below aaron's pay grade. he hadn't needed to attend the last, infamous meeting for instance, HR meetings were normally things he had prior knowledge of, or simply not worth his valuable time as unit chief.

"i got the email as well." aaron's hand found the back of your neck, his fingers comfortably kneading into your always-tense muscles. every so often, his hand would brush to your shoulder, and then back again.

"oh no," penelope slapped onto derek's arm, the smack covered up by slim buzz within the vicinity. "what did we do?"

"looks like we're about to find out." dave stated, his eyes following the woman who had just entered the bullpen, moving to the front.

the notorious HR lady of the bureau, nancy, sauntered over to the large presentation screen set before the clusters of desks. not wasting a second to get down to business, she turned toward the crowd of eager agents.

"thank you all for your attendance and time, this shouldn't take too long." she started, poised and head held high.

penelope took a deep breath.

"this afternoon's presentation," nancy clicked a button on her remote, displaying the title page. "public displays of affection."

oh no.

aaron's hand, which had continued to smooth out the stiffness in your neck, halted immediately.

"as you all- most are well and should be aware, keeping conduct professional in the workplace is a must to prevent disruptions within the environment. displays of affection - examples upcoming - can cause extreme feelings of uncomfortableness amongst your colleagues, and can be distracting nonetheless. all of which, creates a...."

just as last time, she clicked her remote. and adjacent to penelope and derek's presentation, in big letters across the top:

"hostile work environment."

derek immediately snorted under his breath, inviting others to openly laugh as well. despite the urge to shoot daggers at him, you were utterly incapable of pulling your attention away from the front.

it wasn't a top secret ordeal - everyone could infer the pair this presentation was centered around, and be correct.

"and so," nancy exhaled a breath, her eyes darting in your and aaron's shared direction for a smidge second, causing the heat to grow in your face and body. "i urge everyone to refrain from the following,"

similar to yours, aaron's face burned, comparable in color to his tie. he let out a nearly inaudible, nervous cough from above you.

"sitting on one's lap, while working on caseloads - not appropriate."

more laughter rippled through the division.

"oh god." you mumbled under your breath, uncomfortably crossing a leg over the other as your palm covered the bottom half of your face.

contrary to the present belief, aaron was a stickler on pda.

for the first few months of your relationship, he hadn't dared to touch your arm, back, anything in order to maintain such affection within the field; it was reserved for closed doors at home only. he loved you, but he wanted to uphold his reputable professional nature.

but as time moved forward and your relationship progressed, he hadn't gotten sloppy, per se, but more relaxed or lenient was a better way to put it.

some displays were accidental by habit. if he wanted to give you a quick peck, depending on the situation and setting, he would. seated beside each other, he would lovingly squeeze your thigh under the table, if you needed the encouragement or if you made him proud in some regard. if he were feeling frisky one day - sure he would do something, just to rile you up for later, to each of your benefit. so on and so forth.

and if he was initiating affection, you took that as the all-clear to do the same. in variation, of course.

so more often than not, it was in private. just not... always. and the lock on aaron's office door often came in handy for that.

"prolonged kisses in the bullpen, elevator, not appropriate."

once. you were caught once in a (very) heated kiss in the elevator.

as you and aaron cowered in embarrassment, both dave and morgan looked far too amused for their own good. the rest of the team - raised, entertained eyebrows, tossing glances to one another while trying to constrain their laughter.

nancy swallowed, as if she needed strength to deliver the next point, "grabbing one's behind when going up the stairs, not appropriate."

another mortified cough exited aaron.

she went on, giving more examples of affection aaron and you were completely guilty of. and if just one singular time wasn't enough, she went-forth on the explanation that such displays can cause a barrier within the workplace.

when you thought it would never cease, nancy finally delivered her ending statement, "save it for home people, thank you."

and with that, as well as the screen darkening, everyone disbanded, low murmurs and chuckles filling the room as each went about their usual routine.

you looked up at aaron in absolute horror, whose face was currently in his hand. but even that didn't hide the blush brewing within his face, his ears flushed wildly as well.

you reached up, grabbing his wrist to pry his hand away.

"nuh uh uh," derek grinned as he wiggled his index finger at the two of you, imitating nancy to a tee. "not appropriate."

"you hush." you got to your feet, allowing you to remove his hand more easily. you cautiously prolonged your hold, brushing your thumb across his knuckles before letting it drop. "aaron?"

his brown eyes found yours, full of embarrassment. "that was..."

"humiliating?"

he nodded, his head accelerating in speed with each nod, "yeah. that's the term i would use."

"oh you poor dears." penelope breathed out, the one compassionate member of the team.

"damn." emily chuckled.

derek cackled again, clearly not ready to let this go. honestly, he probably never would. "thought we didn't notice when you pulled the blinds in the office, did ya?"

aaron gave him a pointed glare, putting a very quick end to the conversation. just as the rest, the team carried on with their remaining work for the day - you and aaron remaining frozen in place.

but surprisingly enough, a laugh did escape him, shaking through his chest. "guess i have to tone it down a little, huh?"

"oh thank god," you blurted out and exhaled in relief, a small smile forming on your lips. "i thought this would cause an avoidance arrangement or something." you teased - partially.

"of course not. some reservation, maybe, but not avoidance." aaron laughed quietly again, a sigh escaping him.

"that was bad, wasn't it?" a slightly pinched expression took form on your face, your cheeks tinting once more.

"it wasn't... good." aaron admitted with some hesitation, but his brown eyes still glowed despite the lines of troublesome. his hand found yours - after scanning that no one was paying attention to the two of you - giving it a squeeze. "but hey, out of problems to have, i'd take showing my love for you any day."

[swiftdove]

collateral damage

pairing: rio vidal x agatha harkness x fem!reader

summary: after being stranded by your ex-lovers, you've found a new life, hoping to finally move on. unfortunately, fate just doesn't seem to be on your side.

content: angst, allusions to smut, sapphic yearning

a/n: i'm obsessed to say the least

You should've known.

From the moment Agatha stepped foot into your pitiful excuse of a store, you should've slammed the door shut. For years, you'd been reeling from the wounds inflicted by your so-called lover. If you could even call her that. Never, did she once, refer to you as anything other than her 'pet'.

You supposed the name was fitting. You were practically a dog, groveling at the ground she walked on. Hoping, begging, praying, dying that she wouldn't leave. 

Then, without a trace, she vanished from your life, set on her next twisted mission. You had simply been a means to an end, a brief footnote in her life. 

It didn't help that the only other person you cared about, Rio, had followed in Agatha's absence. They'd left you alone, desperately trying to piece together the shattered remains of what you once had. 

Sometimes, you wondered. You wondered if they ever felt guilty about what they did, and if they ever thought of you from time to time. Then, you scolded yourself for even daring to believe that the Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal would have the time of day to care about you. You had drowned in that pit of self-deprecation for years, slowly re-learning how to live without them. 

And just as you thought you were finally free, the wretched witch came back, pulling you back under her spell. If it were anyone else, you would have said 'no'. But it wasn't just 'anyone else'. It was Agatha. You weren't sure where this sick, borderline-obsessive love for her came from. You had left it to depreciate in the back of your mind, where you would have preferred for it to have stayed.

Unfortunately, Agatha had had other plans.

It was stupid. You hated yourself for it.  You hated that tiny spark that you felt when she said your name, that familiar warmth in your chest when she came close. You would've given anything to stop the feeling.

If only Agatha knew. Throughout her long, melodramatic speech about the rewards of The Road, all you could do was stare at her in disbelief. The promise of being with her, even if it were for a short while, was enough to have convinced you. If you had known, back then, that Rio would have been joining you, you would have eagerly accepted the offer without hesitating.

But then again, time had cast a golden glow over your past relationships. You hadn't remembered how unwanted you had felt in their presence, how much they hadn't cared about you.

Sat around the warmth heat of the fireplace, your gaze lay wistfully on the two women. Situated across from them, you felt more distant to them than you had when you were alone.

"I have a scar," Rio suddenly spoke, glancing over at the coven.

"No, you don't," Agatha shot back, almost instantly. 

Your ears perked, waiting for Rio's next words.

"Yes, I do," Rio replied, glancing over at Agatha, her solemn gaze worth a thousand unspoken words. It was their dynamic, their silent conversations, that left you feeling like a second-choice. The feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, which you desperately tried to keep from coming back up.

"A long time ago, I loved someone." Rio shot another pointed look at Agatha. "And I had to do something that I did not wanna do, even though it was my job. And it hurt them. She is my scar."

If you had the choice to go deaf right there and then, you would have chosen it immediately. Although, you knew it wouldn't stop the sharp pain you felt in your heart. Seeing them together was enough. 

"I have to go stretch my legs," Agatha said, walking away.

Just like she used to walk away from every problem in her life. Like she did with you.

You couldn't bear it. One more second in their presence, and you were sure you would have thrown up.

"Same," you replied quietly, walking in the opposition direction to your past lover. 

It was only until the warmth of the fire was long gone, that you felt the tears sliding down your cheeks. 

Breaking down into sobs, you brought your knees to your chest, burying your head inside. You shouldn't have come. You should have said no. 

It seemed as though fate was constantly punishing you, tugging at your heartstrings until they threatened to break. You hated that a part of you wanted to hurt them. Just enough, so that you too would have left a scar. But you knew you couldn't do it. You wouldn't. Not after they shared, so intimately, their past with you, letting you devour every fiber of their being.

You knew why they were the way that they were. That's why it hurt so much to watch them, again and again, fall victim to their pasts. That's why you could never leave, knowing how much pain they had endured, knowing that their wounds ran too deep to ever heal.

Sympathy was a knife, stabbed straight into your back when they left you to dry.

"You good?"

You'd been so deep in your emotions, you hadn't noticed the dark shadow looming over you. Swiveling around, you were met with a pair of manic brown eyes.

"Rio," you exhaled, quickly wiping away your tears. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Rio shook her head softly, pushing her tongue against her right cheek. Her fingers trailed up your leg, sending shivers down your spine. 

"Come on, now," she lulled. "You never were much of a good liar."

"Maybe I've changed," you replied sharply, pulling away from her touch.

Rio's grip tightened, her fingernails digging into your thigh. "Maybe you have," she replied dismissively. "Is that why you never called?"

You scoffed, turning away from her piercing stare. "No. We're not doing this - this wasn't my fault. You and Agatha left without saying a word to me. Call me crazy for assuming you were done with me."

"Now there's the Y/N I know," Rio bit back. "Always jumping to conclusions."

You rolled your eyes at her. "What does it matter anyways? You seem perfectly fine without me. I didn't seem to have left a scar."

"Is that what this is about?" Rio questioned, a taunting grin tugging at her lips.

You refused to dignify her question with an answer.

"Aww, was our little baby feeling left out?"

A mocking, cruel voice rang out in the air, one that you knew all too well.

"Fuck off, Agatha," you snapped. You were hardly in the mood to deal with her heartless jests tonight.

"Someone's forgotten their manners," Agatha remarked, her voice laced with venom. 

Rio chuckled, her grip still deathly tight on your thighs. You could feel the blood seeping out of your skin, onto her fingers.

"I wish I could have forgotten you instead," you retorted, unsure where this newfound attitude was coming from. 

"Now, now. Don't get too cocky," Rio warned, although the grin on her face said something entirely different.

You bit back a scoff. "What's this, anyways? Last time I checked, you both hated each other."

The Green Witch shrugged. "We both share a common interest."

Refusing to take anymore of this, you made a move away from them, eager to escape Rio's death grip. Unfortunately, the two witches were unwilling to let you get away so easily.

"Don't," Agatha cautioned, her voice alone enough to stop you in your tracks.

"What do you want?" you snapped, finally turning towards her.

Your eyes narrowed as Agatha's smile turned into something sinister.

"You," she replied definitively. 

You laughed sarcastically, barely believing what was happening right now. "Are you fucking kidding me? You left me. You can't - I - don't you think we're too far gone now? I mean, you left me wondering where the hell you -"

"We didn't want to leave," Rio interjected.

"Then why did you?" 

"We cared too much about you to stay," Rio explained, gently interlocking your fingers with hers. "It would've only have hurt you."

"Well, you hurt me either way," you replied bitterly, flinching at the coldness of the witch's fingers.

Rio sighed. "I know. I know we did."

Exasperated, Agatha tilted your head up with her fingers, forcing you to look her in the eyes. "Pet, we're sorry."

"Well, sorry doesn't cut it anymore. Not in my books," you snapped, wrenching yourself out of their grasps. "And don't call me that. I'm not your pet."

Without looking back, you walked back towards the fireplace. Unbeknownst to you, the two witches you left behind were hardly satisfied with your answer.

"She's forgotten who she belongs to," Rio murmured, staring into the back of your head.

Agatha tightened her jaw, shaking her head. Her eyes met Rio's, a knowing smirk playing on their lips. 

"It looks like we'll have to teach her a lesson then, hm?"

[foone]

I'm reading through some old issues of Transvestia (a bimonthly magazines for the heterosexual-male transvestite community from the 60s through the 80s) and one issue in 1979 mentions a convention happening for members of the "paraculture", which is not a term I've heard used before.

It's also interesting that there's a clear distinction being made: this is for the heterosexual crossdressers. I'm so used to the modern bullshit where people are trying to separate the T from the LGB, it's slightly weird to see that back then it was more about keeping the G separate from the T? Or at least these T.

But then again this magazine started nearly a decade pre-stonewall. Things were Very Fucking Different for queer people in the US.

Also, there's an amusing bit on the bio of the editor, Virginia Prince: at one point she got in legal trouble for obscenity, because she was exchanging explicit letters with another trans* person. Part of her probation was that she wasn't allowed to crossdress, but her lawyer asked for an exemption "for the purpose of educational presentations".

Sorry ma'am, you can only wear that skirt if it's got educational content.

* I didn't just mean "trans*", it was also a footnote: so this is far enough back that the meanings of various trans-words hadn't settled yet. Transvestite was being used for a lot of people who we'd later call transsexual or transgender. Virginia Prince also used the term "femmiphile" at times because she thought the term "transvestite" had been corrupted by it's association with transsexuals/transgender people. Fun trans history stuff.

[welsknightenjoyer]

Cant wait for wc!scott to get hit by the realisation that in the time between milo's death and now, he has changed so much that he will no longer be the person milo remembers

[kashilascorner]

Finished If we were villains and i have to say everyone goes on and kn about how good of a person Oliver is --but is he really?

[prael]

Spectacle

Kinktember Day 11: Cuckquean

IVE Wonyoung and Liz x male reader smut

words: 6,118 Kinktember Masterlist

"I love you."

You love her too. That's a long-accepted fact, and you've told each other this a hundred times over. Sometimes it's casually told at the end of a phone call, sometimes it's in some romantic setting like when you're walking out on the promenade under the night sky, but in a way, these ones are the most honest.

It's a little bit special when those are the only words that come to her mind while she is cumming.

She's lying with her head against your neck, still shaking in pleasure. You would reply but you're so focused on grinding into her and you're so fucking close...

By this point, it's all become a little routine. Predictable, maybe. She gets home, you cook together, eat together, watch a film or TV show together, then one of you makes a move and... You get the picture. It's any old weekday.

So maybe this isn't what people would consider to be earth-shattering sex(fuck the critics) but she likes the feeling of your hips bucking and you spilling inside her. And you love the way she struggles for breath in between her moans before she does that same little squeal right before she cums.

These nights have all blurred a little into one. Tonight will become a little section on a page of many; a few lines that are not much more than a footnote.

Silence sets in once you untangle your limbs and lay beside her. Her head is pressed against your shoulder and the post-sex smell hangs in the air.

You look out your window over at the walled gardens on the other side of the river. It's as dull a sight to look at as always and there's hardly anyone out at this time but somehow you're content with looking at this view.

"So, do you think we should visit my dad sometime?" Liz asks out of the blue.

"I know I said I would think about it, but I was a little busy just now." You roll your head over to the side, sacrificing the river view for Liz's flush face. "What's this about?"

"Like I said, he's been asking." Her words trail off and she doesn't quite meet your eyes. She gives an awkward shrug of her bare shoulders, and then scoots over, snuggling up even closer. You give her back an appreciative squeeze.

"I can't do this weekend, busy remember? But we can go next week?"

Her hand stops circling your abdomen and she lifts her head from your shoulder to look at you. "Busy?" Her eyes dart around, searching your face for clues, but she just has to ask: "With?"

"My friend's birthday, I told you last week, and you said, and I quote, 'Okay babe, I'm meeting Wony this weekend anyway, have fun!'" You do your best-worst impression of her which earns you a jab of her fist in your side and a laugh.

"Oh... I'm always forgetting things."

"You work too hard." You cup her cheek and stretch your neck muscles to plant a kiss on her forehead. She coos and moves forward again, returning to her rightful spot snug on your shoulder. You slip your arm behind her back, and both of you lie there together in comfortable silence.

Liz moves her hand up from your stomach to your chest and starts circling her fingers over your skin. The touch is light and soft and very very deliberate.

"I have another question..." Liz eventually says, trailing off her sentence as though she's half lost in her own thought.

You bring your hand up to hers, hooking under her wandering finger and raising her hand, and then you lock your fingers between hers. "What is it? Something on your mind?"

"Am I good?"

"Good? Good person? Good cook? Good girlfriend? Good what?"

Liz laughs gently nuzzling into your body to hide her face and breathing hot breath over your skin. "Good... in bed."

"Oh thank god, I thought you were going to ask about your cooking and I'm not so great at the whole white lie thing."

She tries to punch you with the hand you're holding but you tighten your grip to stop her. "Not funny," she groans with a smile on her face.

She tries to turn her head into the pillow but you refuse to move or say anything until she looks at you. When she eventually peers up and matches your gaze you tell her, "You are the perfect girlfriend in every way," you tell her.

She exhales a short chuckle and raises an eyebrow. "Nice dodge," she tells you, unable to contain her laugh, and you laugh with her. "It's okay, I have a plan."

You pause, her words suddenly throwing you. "A plan for what?"

"You'll see."

She refuses to say anything more for the rest of the night, but she smiles at your puzzlement and laughs whenever you try to playfully nudge the subject. And you do notice that a slight smile seems to stick to her face all night, right up until she falls asleep.

***

Sunday evening transport is so hellishly unpredictable, so you're walking in the apartment door about an hour later than you planned, and about twice as stressed as you should be.

All of that washes away when you look at the girl who's been waiting for you to get home.

The scented (mostly melted) candles have been burning for a while and the smell of them fills the apartment. Not only has Liz picked out one of your favourite bottles of wine, but she's poured out a pair of glasses of it already, though they're both half-empty. And as you near it, the bottle is too.

"Hey, Liz."

"Finally! Welcome home," she says with a smile as broad as your confusion. "I've been waiting so long. So, so long." She's wearing a gown you don't recognise that's soft to touch when you hug her as she throws herself against you.

"Is this new?" you ask, touching at the silk hem.

"Of course it is," she answers quickly. "I was saving it, saving it until a special night. You know... Something special to break it out for."

She moves back in your arms, so she can have a better look at you, and she stares for just a few seconds before she leans back in, this time kissing you full on the lips. There's nothing soft about it. There's no hesitancy, and certainly no tenderness. This kiss is so firmly decided, so purposeful.

She purrs her words against your lips, "I've been giving it some thought, and, I know you would never say it, but I'm a little bit... vanilla, in the bedroom. And, I know, I know," she stops you with her fingers on your lips, shushing you with the tilt of her head and a flutter of her long lashes, "You wouldn't say anything because you love me too much and you're far too kind, but, this is for me too, okay? I want to be good, I want to try different things, exciting things, and this is the best way for me to learn."

"Liz. Liz. I've barely walked in the door and you're throwing this at me. I need a minute."

"No, don't think, we've been waiting so long for you already." Liz is pulling your arm toward the bedroom door. Her soft touch and your own burning curiosity have you willingly in tow.

"We?"

She's smiling the wildest of smiles over her shoulder as she pulls you along. Your heart beats a little harder in anticipation of what lies ahead, and even more at the look of sheer excitement and determination on her beautiful face.

You dropped your bag somewhere in the middle of the room but you hadn't even taken off your shoes before Liz is bundling you through the doorway.

"This is Wonyoung."

Why the fuck is there a girl in your bed?

"Wait. I know. It's weird right?" Liz sounds giddy, almost frantic. She bounces up to you and pulls on your arm until you stand right alongside her, peering down at the young woman in front of you. "You know Wonyoung, right?"

"Of course, I know one of your best friends, but why is she in our bed?" You turn and look at the girl lying there with a similar silk gown over her body, from her neck down to just below the knee. "Sorry, no offence, but I have no idea what's happening right now."

Wonyoung doesn't react but instead chooses that moment to rise. She is sitting with her hands folded on top of her legs. She tilts her head and examines you carefully, with an unmoving gaze that's almost more uncomfortable than the two of you hovering over her.

"It's fine." The deep smooth voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife. Her voice is as cool and calm as you expected, not that you're all that familiar with it, you have only met her a handful of times.

"Liz?" you ask, turning to her again.

"I want to watch. I'm going to watch," she blurts out her response before falling silent.

"What?"

Liz exhales softly, then draws in a steady breath, steeling herself, as her mouth curves in a trembling smile. "I was talking to Wonyoung, about... things. And, well, we were talking, and I guess maybe this idea just sort of popped into our heads. I couldn't just dismiss it. And I've had this fantasy. And well Wonyoung, it's been a while. And you, I want you to. And I can learn." Liz is talking far too quickly and doesn't finish a single sentence she starts.

"What she is trying to say," Wonyoung cuts in with her voice sharp and full of cold steel. "Is that we have come to a mutually beneficial agreement."

"Arrangement." Liz chimes in with the correction.

"That I will," her eyes drift, flickering and moving over both of you, "join you both, for a while, in a few different ways. What Liz is trying to explain is that, well, to be frank, it's been a while for me and I would appreciate some good sex. As for Liz here... It just so happens she has a bit of a fantasy about this whole thing too."

"Yeah, exactly." Liz cups your cheeks and kisses you gently. "It's completely up to you, of course." Her hands rest at the back of your neck and she closes her eyes, resting her forehead against yours. "I love you."

Your hands are hanging idly by your waist. This woman sits on your bed and your girlfriend clings to you, asking you to fuck her. 

"Okay." A single word while your heart is beating hard with anticipation. You reach to Liz's waist and pull her flush against you and plant your lips against her soft supple skin.

She giggles with delight and puts a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze up. "So... We're really going to do this, huh?" Liz leans in, eyes flickering over your own as you exchange a final look. You feel her warm breath just a moment before the warm touch of her lips, pressing against yours, melting your resistance and hesitation, while sending warmth through you, easing you into acceptance, as the idea begins to cement itself in your thoughts.

There's a rustle of sheets as Wonyoung climbs up behind you and presses herself against you. "You're already late," she whispers behind you. "Don't make me wait any longer."

Liz leans away and her delicate fingers ease open your shirt, undoing each button in turn.

"Don't hold back. I want to see you give it to her." Liz takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "Please, babe." Then she takes a step back, towards the chair that you're just now realising had been moved from the corner of the room so it had a close view of the bed.

Wonyoung pulls your shirt from behind, dragging it over your shoulders and down your arms. She follows the fabric down your back with a series of gentle kisses over your spine. The light tickle and feel of her hair drag over your skin, as she tugs the shirt free of your wrists.

"Liz..." You look over to your girlfriend who is staring with a grin on her face. Her eyes follow every single movement that Wonyoung makes as if studying them, examining them, processing them.

Wonyoung tugs the shirt free of your wrists and discards it. Her hands immediately reach over your chest and drag downward, making no secret of the way that her little breasts under the silk push firmly, and delightfully, up against your back.

Her nails drag over your skin until she hits the waist of your trousers. Delicate fingers, so precise in their movement, make quick work of the belt buckle, the button, and the zip. All without pausing, all without hesitation.

Under the dim light of the evening, Wonyoung pushes your trousers, and underwear, free from your hips. Down, over your ass, dragging them down your thighs. The cool air passes over your body, and you look to Liz for affirmation.

She smiles and she nods, waiting for what comes next.

Naked, and vulnerable, you're standing before her with another woman wrapped over you. Wonyoung reaches around you with both hands, she takes one confident grip of your still-limp length, and her other hand just a little lower onto your balls.

Liz's eyes light up at the sight.

"Not hard yet. Nervous?" Wonyoung's question is a tease. Her voice, velvet and silky, is whispered into your ear. The smell of her perfume is subtle, but the floral, womanly scent is unmistakable. She moves her hand in a light grip over the base of your cock and moves it slowly, methodically, and without the urgency you might've expected.

"Maybe..."

Wonyoung releases a silent giggle against the skin at the back of your neck. "Just wait..."

You look at Liz and her hands clamp tight over her knees as her breathing visibly hastens, matching your own. Her attention is fully, single-mindedly, upon you, with you, but there is no doubt about where her thoughts and her emotions lie. She's excited. In the comfort of seeing that, so are you.

"There we go," Wonyoung whispers. Her hands work leisurely over you. And yet in no time at all, you're rising in her grip. Stiffening. Aching for more. Your focus is on the sight of the only woman you have ever cared for, but the feeling of someone else's hand on your cock as you watch her is as strange as it is exciting.

She massages with both hands, always rhythmic, always steady. "Liz, do you like to suck cock?" Her question comes out smooth, and refined but pointed.

Liz glances up at you briefly, then down between her knees. She gives her answer as a nod, looking a little timid as her hands tighten their grip even more and her nails start to press into her knees. "I like the way his body reacts to my tongue." She glances up once more with a satisfied smile.

"That's good. And he likes it too?"

"Yes," you both say it at the same time.

You shiver as Wonyoung plants a long trail of delicate, wet kisses over your neck. She draws back her hand and leaves you there, cock stiff in the air. She walks around you slowly, finally that pretty face of hers coming into view. Her dark brown hair falls over her shoulders, the locks blending into the black silk of her gown.

She places both of her hands on your chest and stares right at you, no ounce of shyness or reserve as her piercing eyes dig deep, threatening to carve a hole clean through you.

"See something you like?" she asks. "Liz, if he is so hungry looking at me now, can you imagine what his expression is going to be like once my robe is off?"

Wonyoung rests the tip of her tongue on her lower lip, using it to moisten the pillowy soft, glossy surface. Her fingers rake down your chest as she drops elegantly, slowly to her knees and smiles up at you with those shiny red lips.

"May I?" she asks.

You take in the sight of her, kneeling before you, her lips so teasingly close to your tip that each of her soft breaths kisses it. A lustful, indecent twinkle in her eye.

You force a glance over to Liz, to which Winyoung immediately reacts, "I'm asking you, not her."

And all of the reasons to hesitate are just evaporating.

"May I suck your cock?" she repeats. She remains perfectly, unnervingly, poised on her knees.

"Yes. Suck my cock, Wonyoung."

Your breath catches. Your whole body shudders as she runs the warm, wet flat of her tongue up the underside of your hardness. Her gaze never falters. Wonyoung purses her lips, before lowering herself in her elegant descent, and letting her tongue slide around you as she sinks into the first of many bobs of her head.

Liz shuffles forward on the edge of her chair.

Wonyoung takes you deep, so deep, without so much of a gag or splutter. Her dark, doll-like eyes stare straight ahead, as she swallows your cock with her luscious lips and warm mouth. The warm and wet envelopes you so wholly that you can't stop yourself from hissing a groan of approval and you feel her mouth tighten its grip with a devious grin.

Liz squeezes her bare legs together.

Wonyoung braces herself on your hip, wrapping the other hand around your thigh as she rises and sinks back down again, again, again. Each time she gets a little quicker, a little stronger.

It's so different to when Liz does it. She's normally so playful with her tongue, and she doesn't take a lot of it inside her, but Wonyoung seems to have this sole fixation on drawing you deep into her. The very back of her throat greets your sensitive tip.

The muffled moans that roll from her throat vibrate around your shaft, and her tongue eagerly rolls all over your every inch. Her deep breaths get heavier, and her suckling becomes sloppy and wet. You're getting weak at the knees.

Wonyoung finally releases you with a short gasp and looks up at you with glassy eyes, "Fuck," she groans out before spitting over your shaft.

She clasps her hand over the head and grips you tightly, stroking up and down the length.

You don't dare to tear your gaze from the stunning, lewd woman staring up at you.

"Tastes... Mmm. So good, so good." Wonyoung whines her praise out between kisses and flicks of her tongue on your tip.

Your hands twitch and the instinct to sink your fingers into her hair is a near-unstoppable urge. You gently thread your fingers into her long, silken tresses, and gently grip them. She lets out a satisfied gasp and then says to Liz, "Look at that. See how much he wants me?"

Your gaze shoots over to Liz. Her eyes are transfixed, focused on Wonyoung's tongue, wrapped around the head of your cock. Her breath shudders, then slows.

You pull Wonyoung's head down while staring at your girlfriend. If she wants a show, you'll give her one.

A quiet sound escapes her, and then a sharper inhale, but still she shows no sign of objection. On the contrary, the pleased hum that emanates from her mouth drives you wild. It encourages you. You rock your hips forward, slamming past her lips and prodding against her throat. Your lust swells alongside your confidence.

"Good girl." You know how much Liz likes it when you're the dominant one, she often teases you in conversation about how it's hot when you tell her what to do and you notice her breathing become hitched when you whisper dirty things in her ears.

Wonyoung says nothing but moans her appreciation and rewards your command by relaxing her throat and letting you use her.

For a while you use her, over and over until you're right on the edge, Liz looks practically ready to jump out of the chair, and when you check on Wonyoung, her face is a mess. Tears streaking, saliva dripping. She's taken every last drop of this beating with nothing but an overwhelming desire to serve you.

She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. The desperate submissiveness in her act brings you that step closer, "Cum, cum," she moans out between deep gulps of air. "Do it. Give it to me."

She's holding your cock in her fist and pumping it towards her face. With the first hot jet of cum, she cranes forward and takes it onto her eager tongue. She looks up at you as if urging you to keep going, to fill her pretty mouth.

Liz gasps audibly as you empty the contents of your balls into the sweet girl's waiting mouth. Wonyoung does nothing but accept what you're giving.

Your girlfriend just watched you blow a load into the mouth of her friend.

With each spurt into the soft, receptive touch of Wonyoung's inviting mouth, Liz squirms on her chair, her tongue playing on her lower lip.

"That's so hot," she strains to say through heavy breaths.

Wonyoung swallows all of it without instruction and then cleans you off in the same eager fashion that she sucked the load out of you.

"Hey Liz," Wonyoung croons in that smooth, velvety voice, while kissing along your thighs, her breathing quick and light on your damp skin. "You should have invited me sooner. I can think of a hundred ways to fuck this cock."

Wonyoung sweeps her damp hair from her face. She presses her forehead to your thigh, collecting herself. You can feel her taking deep breaths through her nose against the skin of your thigh.

"Show me."

At that, Wonyoung glances at Liz in genuine surprise.

"Show me all of those," Liz pauses, and takes a moment to collect her words. "All of those ways to fuck my man. Please show me."

"Okay, Liz, you just sit there and watch me fuck your man." Wonyoung's lips are sticky with your cum, glistening and tempting in the low light of the room, the remnants of your seed on her chin are even more provocative, as Wonyoung tilts her head and reveals a gorgeous neck and collarbone that draws your attention. "Well?" Wonyoung continues, extending her hand, "Help me up."

"Of course." You reach for her, eager and so, so ready. You pull her to her feet, and into a heated kiss, a little rougher than you should, but she doesn't mind. You lean down, slipping your hands around her thighs and then up to her ass, lifting her against your body.

Wonyoung squeals as you take three steps towards the bed, toss her over the edge, and then stand over her. Her gown has fallen open, framing her petite, naked body in the centre of your bed. It takes no time for her to move back, propping herself up on her elbows, and then giving her body a delicious stretch to emphasise her every feature. She sits there, spreading her legs, knees parted, showing you her bare, wet pussy, flushed and exposed.

"I want you over me so badly. Pushing my legs up over my head and fucking down into me. But not tonight. Tonight I'm going to show Liz how to ride a cock. Would you like that?" The lust in her dark eyes shines, not for you, not for Liz, but for the moment, the experience, the power that Wonyoung wields right now.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Good." Wonyoung raises herself, rising to her knees to look up at you, leaving a lingering, open-mouthed kiss on your lips before peeling the gown off of her shoulders.

In a small, feminine pile, it gathers on the floor. Then she flaunts herself, not so much in an exhibitionist way, though she certainly has every right to, but more of someone who enjoys being admired. It's not just because her body is fucking stunning, but it sells such a sinful promise of how good it's going to feel to fuck, and she knows it.

You hold her waist for that simple purpose. Hands over her narrow body, soft skin and toned muscles underneath. For her part, Wonyoung extends one delicate arm so that she may brush her index finger over your jaw, just making that familiar, if chilling, grazing over your skin. You slide your hand down between her legs and press a single finger inside her.

"Mmm. Don't be afraid," she purrs.

You stroke her smoothly. Two fingers, twisting them, delving into her as her insides react, tightening, dampening around your teasing invasion.

"Already getting me so worked up, and poor Liz over there is being so well-behaved."

"Hey!" Liz laughs playfully. Her playful laughter trails off when Wonyoung's voice lowers, and the erotic, needy sound in her tone builds.

"Lie down, let me show her how it's done. Look at me. Watch me."

Immediately, you melt away. Back to the bed, to the cool feeling of the sheets under your skin. The quiet anticipation, and the expectation. With languid grace, and without her body ever seeming to interrupt its soft, almost perfect curvature, Wonyoung climbs over you. She places one knee on the bed, then the other. A hand on your chest, then the other. The weight of her, what little there is, pressing you down until the moist heat from her lips finds your cock.

She presses your length flat against your body, the lips of her pussy holding it in a long kiss that she gradually eases over your shaft. Grinding back and forth, you watch as your cock disappears under her as she comes forward, only to drag herself back down against it.

"Feel that?" Wonyoung pants quietly.

"Uh-huh," you hum.

"Feel that warmth, that slickness sliding around you. Imagine what it's going to feel like inside, hmm?" She coaxes a twitch out of you as you do exactly as she says.

Her tight abs roll into you, followed by the press of her thighs. Hot and clasping. Higher, her bare chest bears a pair of hard nipples on her little perky tits. Higher still, her face twists in expressions of pleasure, the delight in her shining eyes, the rapture etched across her face. Her lips tremble as something threatens to escape, whether a whine, moan, exasperated breath or a request for something, she never vocalises the sound and it remains nothing more than a sensual promise of a good time ahead.

Wonyoung slows to a stop and throws her head forward, putting her hands on your shoulders. You place yours at her legs, watching her close her eyes, drawing her lower lip between her teeth.

"Feel how wet I am?" Wonyoung moves her hips in tight circles and she struggles to hold back her whimpers. Her warmth flows out of her and over you. "That's me, getting turned on at the thought of having this inside of me," she whispers. She rocks herself again, this time drawing out her whimper.

"God. Fuck..." You gasp and groan. You want this. Need it.

Wonyoung lifts and turns your cock until your head prods against her tight and needy pussy. She pauses to look to the side, her hair falling over her face but you can make out a grin, that very sly smile as she tilts her head towards your girlfriend, no doubt appreciating her breathless arousal.

"I'm going to ride your boyfriend's cock now. Cum all over his cock. Make him cum inside me. How does that feel?" Wonyoung moans softly, tipping her hips up, down, and over again, toying with the head. "Mmm, you like the sound of that, don't you?"

Liz is gripping the arms of her chair, not saying a thing. She just whines with agitation, kicks her feet out and stamps on the floor.

Then, Wonyoung gasps with relief. While your head was turned, Wonyoung surprised you by drawing the tip of your cock into her. You snap you're attention back to her as she settles around your cock. Where her throat was so accepting, her pussy is decisively not. It's so fucking tight that she struggles to take much of you in at first. Such small movements over the tip, tiny motions that rock her. And yet the sensation is something that could, and does, unravel you in an instant.

You're powerless to resist as she takes more and more of you into herself with each and every drive back down. Each little push, deeper inside, the further apart her thighs, and the deeper she descends, pushing herself, forcing herself, upon your cock.

You hold onto her ass, guiding her every bit of the way, rocking her rhythmically back and forth. Deeper, harder, tighter, she stretches, accommodating you until you reach as far as her tight walls will allow.

"You're gonna ruin this pussy." The sultry voice and the crude declaration cause another tremble out of you.

At that, she places both hands on either side of your head, palms flat on the sheet. Her pretty face is so close, just bobbing slightly as she fucks you. She pants heavily, her small, round breasts quiver and bounce up and down in front of your eyes.

She stays like that for a while, fucking herself on you, telling you all sorts of sweet nothings. "Gonna ride that thick cock. Love it so much, feel so fucking good." All the while, her perfectly tight ass is in your rough hands as you knead it and pull it wide.

Eventually, she throws herself back, breaking the intense stare, and making herself a spectacle again. She leans back, far back, her hand behind her for support, and gives both of you a show. Those slender thighs shake just enough to send you crazy each time she slaps them down against your waist. Her cute, shapely tits bouncing and jiggling.

"Fuck! Liz! You lucky girl! Mhm!" You're squeezing and palming her thighs roughly, fingers into flesh. Pulling her down hard, trying your damnedest to force her even tighter against you.

"Sfucking hot," A filthy compliment that is rewarded with another gasp of arousal and a short burst of bouncing as desperately fast as she can.

She slows to a crawl again. One leg moves off you, and then her hips swivel and the movement on your length is breathtaking. She's sideways on you now. One leg between yours, and the other stretched out over your body, her foot by your face.

Wonyoung is looking right at Liz now. "Watch me cum on your boyfriend's cock."

You're holding her by the leg she has over you, and you're using it as the leverage you need to buck into her while she works the lateral movement. The bed shakes and protests under your exertions. Wonyoung pulls her hands behind her neck, scooping up her hair and holding it up, so every inch of her body can be seen.

"Look. Look, Liz." Wonyoung lets out a guttural moan. A throaty, visceral noise of climax catching you off guard. You keep rolling your hips, taking in the way her body tenses and tightens and she trembles all over. "Cumming. On your. Boyfriend." She barely gets the words out as her head falls backwards and you can't take your eyes off of her, or the way she spasms on your lap.

She struggles to keep up the pace and rhythm but still tries her best, her resolve amid an orgasm is worthy of respect. You move her, this time, hands on her waist and twisting her so she faces away from you. She allows you and gasps in delight the moment you reposition her, her hands reaching for your thighs.

You continue the thrusts, with Wonyoung content now to take the punishment. You fuck her in a steady, thumping motion, the slap of skin against skin loud and ringing in the air. Her ass is marked red, compliments of the tight squeeze you had on it earlier. Her taut little cheeks bounce and shake each time you slam into her. Her own whiny moans and squeals mix and add a new melody to the atmosphere.

Wonyoung is nothing but moans now, one orgasm just cascaded into the next, and she shows no signs of stopping. Every now and then her sounds break through, becoming cries. Each time they do, you follow it up with a series of rapid slapping of hips. It's all you can do, just to keep yourself going, chasing that elusive climax that the three of you so desperately want.

Liz is fucking losing it. She's squeezing her thighs together. Grinding. Dancing in her chair. Her fingers, her knuckles, are white with strain as she holds onto the chair for dear life. She's making squeals and gasping moans too—she wants to cum so bad. It is as though her pussy is squeezing on nothing, you can imagine just how needy and wet she is. How painful it must feel, not being able to have that satisfaction that you can give Wonyoung.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Wonyoung wails out her climax with such intensity that it actually leaves her voice a little hoarse and you can't hold it anymore, you have to follow her lead. You have to cum.

So you do.

Wonyoung drags her nails across the skin of your legs as you reach that tipping point and pump a thick stream of semen into her. There is more and more, and she takes it all greedily as if there's no limit. As if she'll never be satisfied.

You let it all out, pump her full of hot, thick, semen. The release is enough that, for a while, you blank out the world. Nothing matters but the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

Consciousness returns with you lying limp on the bed. Your head rolls to one side and you struggle to stay focused. You gaze down past your feet where Wonyoung lies collapsed, the exact same way as yourself. Still, you watch, and try to keep focus, and you do because when Wonyoung awakes she lifts her head, a sheen of perspiration glistening and flowing in droplets from her dark, silky hair and down her face, streaking her skin and flowing over her red cheeks and flushed lips.

The combination of both exhaustion and arousal as Wonyoung catches her breath causes a wonderful sight before she meets your own exhausted gaze and that smile of hers, all pearly white and perfect and so damn alluring.

"Fuck! I have to! Fuck!" Liz is rampant now, her hand reaches in between her own legs and then her legs are spread apart and you can see her furiously fingering her own pussy, the motion of her whole arm trembling and shaking. Her pussy is wet, and gleaming. And the fingers in it move and dive deeply. "That was the hottest fucking thing... I need to... Cum..."

Wonyoung supports the side of her face up with her fist, a grin on her features as she watches the way Liz acts like she's going insane, out of her mind, she just needs the cum in the worst way, the urgency apparent from the way her fingers disappear, pumping into herself.

Wonyoung starts crawling up you, to rest on you, while transfixed on your girlfriend pumping herself into oblivion. "Oh, Liz, that is beautiful," her eyes light up as she comments, "Now imagine the feel of it... His cum leaking out of me right now. Because he fucked me and not you."

That's what sends Liz spiralling over the edge.

Liz's body twists, writhes, shudders and convulses in orgasm. It's almost hypnotic, her thighs squeeze together so hard that her hand must hurt, but she just goes on and on and on, never easing, and it leaves a hot, sticky mess all over the chair and her fingers. You watch as she rides those waves of blissful gratification, all over a set of digits that aren't nearly enough to satisfy, not even for a moment.

Wonyoung brings her lips close to your face, hot breath washes over you, and she whispers quietly into your ear, "She's going to want this again, you know? Look at her, you even seen her cum that hard?"

"No, I haven't."

"Then me and you? We're going to be having a lot of sex."

[ishibishie]

[indecisivemuch]

hii first of all luv the username cause as a libra rising, samedt ;-; i'd like to make a request for a luke x f!reader fic pls!! um, so they're best friends, and luke decides to confess to r by giving her gifts, letters, trinkets, etc. with hints about his identity, but she doesn't know who they're from. so she asks for luke's help to find out about the identity of her secret admirer. but what if there's like a mistaken identity and she thinks it's someone from the hermes cabin (maybe chris? or one of the stoll brothers idk) and luke's just all pouty but nonchalant or something, but deep down he's like 'how do i even make her see' or something (while also second guessing that maybe he shouldn't confess it's him) like fluff with tiny angst :>

Message in a Bottle

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You got a secret admirer and recruited Luke to help you find out who they are...ignoring the most obvious option (Fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: I'm so sorry for the six month hiatus. It wasn't by choice, I swear 😭. So many bad things kept happening that prevented me from writing (is this the writers curse people kept talking about?). Also, the request wanted only a sprinkle of angst, but I kinda got out of hand with it I think 😭 (sorry).

Word count: 4.4k (whoops)

You’ve always thought that too much of something is bad. Yet, ever since the day your life intertwined with Luke Castellan’s, you weren’t very sure about that anymore. 

The two of you arrived at camp around the same time, entering a friendship that felt like hitting the jackpot. Your early days together were something that you both treasured dearly. Every time you thought a certain time period would someday be reminisced as the golden days of your friendships, new things would come, and top it off. 

However, golden skies were soon evaded by clouds of pink hues. You found yourself noticing and appreciating small details you haven’t noticed before about your best friend. Initially, you acknowledged the growing feeling but decided that they better remain as footnotes in chapters of your life. However, fate’s design was different to your plans, because two years later, here you were: you looked at him almost in the same way a fool would look at the world with rose-colored glasses (but then again, maybe it was because you have learned to embrace and adore his flaws).

“Luke!”

The Hermes cabin counselor snapped his head towards the sound of your voice, eyes straying from his duty of the hour. A smile began forming on his face as you came to view, almost like he has always been programmed to do so. There was a certain spring in your steps. Moments like these made Luke feel like he was a minimalist because your happiness was somehow enough to guarantee his own. 

You situated yourself next to Luke on the ground, not minding the dirt.

“Hey now, I’m meant to be watching these kids train, don’t come over and distract me,” the Hermes cabin counselor warned, though he didn’t move his eyes away from you. He simply couldn’t.

Everything about you served as a distraction to him. From the soft smirk gracing your lips to the innocent tilting of your head. Every little detail about you was captivating and was equally capable of drawing his attention away from wherever it was meant to be. 

In fact, his attention issue around you was getting rather shameless because his friends have begun picking up on it and started teasing him for it. Personally, Luke doesn’t think it was his fault. His eyes just happen to draw to you in every room like second nature, while his mind short-circuited every time you were near. 

Maybe, and just maybe being rational and able to function properly has stopped being his forte…at least whenever you were around.

Your eyes moved to the group of kids that were only going to be at camp for the summer. From the looks of it, Luke has just assigned them to practice sword fighting in pairs. You then glanced back at your best friend, discreetly drinking in the sight of him. 

No doubt he did his fair share of demonstration before letting these kids go off on their own, because right now, his face was slightly flushed, veins evident on his forearm while the familiar orange shirt clung onto his body with glistening sweat.

You shook away the non-platonic thoughts and teased him, “Oh, come on, you wouldn’t pass up on talking to me. You adore me too much.” 

Damn right, he does. Luke could feel his cheeks heat up again.

“Fine. What are you here for, firecracker?”

“I got another gift,” you informed, presenting the bracelet in your hand. 

For the past month, you have been receiving small letters and gifts. This time it was a handmade bracelet with beads of your favorite colors, as well as charms that represented some of your hobbies and favorite things. It was clear that your anonymous admirer had put a lot of thought into such a small item. However, as always, there were no identities attached to it, leaving you clueless about the person behind these gestures.

Luke took your hand in his, eying the accessory that perfectly fitted your wrist. He started toying with the beads around your wrist that were shining in your favorite color.

The boy’s gaze flicked from the object to you, catching your soft and warm look. Gods, if you kept looking at him like that, he might just actually stop thinking logically. He could practically feel a confession lingering behind his lips, threatening to spew the second his ropes of restraint died.

“Anyway, I came here with an idea,” you broke the silence. “What if I try to find out who this person is? I mean, some of these gifts are quite specific. They seem to know my favorite color, flowers, and things I like. Surely, it wouldn’t be that hard to narrow it down and figure it out?”

Something shifted in your best friend’s behavior and you could feel it. There was a slight flustering look on Luke’s face as he avoided eye contact with you. It was rather strange to see the Hermes cabin counselor so fidgety. Luke has always been confident and composed, and you’d often be the one to humble down his playful cocky remarks. Half-way through looking at his behavior, you began speaking:

“You…”

Luke could feel the blood draining from his face at your facial expression, his face paling despite how flushed he was seconds ago from demonstrating sword fighting. The boy tried to regain his composure, though his attempt at seeming nonchalant failed as you touched his arm. Did you—

“You can be my inside man, talk to these guys to see if they’d slip up or something like that.” 

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Luke hastily replied, clearing his throat.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that come across as a suggestion? I hate to break it to you but being best friends means you sorta have to participate in my schemes,” your lips curled as Luke grunted at your words. 

“Yeah, but—”

“Luke, please…it’ll be fun,” he almost scoffed at your words and unconvincing argument. Clearly, the two of you had different definitions of fun. Just as he opened his mouth to reject your idea again, his eyes caught yours. You were looking at him in such an eager and heart-warming gaze that it made him forget what he was intending to say.

Ah, there was no denying anymore. Being rational and able to function properly has truly stopped being his forte.

“Fine,” Luke uttered, the word pricking his tongue as regret started kicking in as he accepted being your accomplice. This decision could only come back to bite him in the ass. He watched as you quickly celebrated his lack of restraint.

“Ah, you gave in quite quickly,” you jabbed.

“Shut up.”

Oh, you were going to be the death of him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days have passed since you got Luke to agree to help you find your secret admirer. Though, the boy must say, the last forty eight hours have been slightly comedic for him, watching you trying to track down your secret admirer…

While the real sender of those gifts was right beside you, nodding along to your every word. 

Luke’s mind trailed to the origin of this “secret admirer” idea. He started it as a way to abate the urge of straight-up blurting out how love-struck he was with his own best friend, while also testing out the waters before finally confessing his feelings for you. 

Though it was slightly amusing how the idea led him to where he was right at that moment. The Hermes cabin counselor zoned out as he pretended to speak to another boy you thought was behind those sweet gifts and letters. 

Luke used to have those feelings under rein, but self-repression only caused it to grow exponentially. Initially, the Hermes cabin counselor dismissed those beyond friendly thoughts, thinking they would eventually fizzle away. However, against his predictions, this fondness towards you became a sort of companion to him for three long years. 

Not only that, years of excessively burying these feelings six feet underground also came back to bite him in the ass because instead of having his feelings under control, they now have the upper hand. 

Sometimes he felt like a puppet, while his feelings plucked the strings. His facial expressions were forever cursed to be sculpted in raw yearning whenever around you, having no choice over how he reacts to everything related to you.

But it didn’t matter, because he was going to finally confess soon.

Luke almost burst out laughing at the way you were standing in anticipation, waiting for his intel on the most recent candidate. It was entertaining, to say the least, pretending to engage in investigative conversation before heading back to you, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. 

However, it didn’t take long before the Hermes cabin counselor started feeling sour.

Just as he made it back to your side, he watched as you started talking again, already discussing the next guy you thought might have done these things that Luke himself came up with. He eyed your in sync footsteps with a heavy heart. Despite the matching movement, he somehow still felt eternally behind. Luke was so close, yet so far away, and never quite able to grasp onto your ever moving attention. 

Did you not consider him as an option at all? Did you truly not see him as anything other than a good friend? It started stinging him knowing you were considering all these other guys as potential candidates — the faces that now haunt him in his sleep, poisoning his mind with an acidic jealousy that was eating away his common senses and fueling immoral thoughts. 

Soon enough, that same jealousy seared his mind with this overwhelming self-doubt. Luke’s foot started feeling cold at the thought of confessing. Gods, he never thought the same security behind anonymity would now make him feel desperate to be seen by you. 

“Maybe I should give up,” you concluded, mindlessly staring ahead. Your attention elsewhere gave Clarisse and Chris an opportunity to send each other knowing looks. The two have been watching you run around in circles on a goose hunt, not knowing to look right behind at the sulking figure that was trailing after you. 

Your distracted state also meant you didn’t notice the moping human situated beside you. However, hearing your declaration of ending your chase, Luke saw a window of opportunity. Maybe now was finally the time to be truthful. After all, if he doesn’t tell you, then how will you know and see him? Luke’s momentary motivation carried him through waves of dejection.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something,” Luke blurted out without much more thought or preparation, and his tone made you fully turn to him. Just as words finally formed and the boy opened his mouth to tell you—

“Hey Y/N, can I talk to you privately?” Somebody interrupted. Your eyes didn’t leave Luke immediately, but when you saw your best friend’s momentum had faltered, you turned to the stranger. It was another Hermes boy, somebody who you’ve seen around. You politely agreed and left with him. 

“So, I heard you’ve been looking for the person who’s been giving you anonymous gifts. And well, it’s your lucky day, 'cause…” the boy stared you up and down while you subconsciously took a small step back when he leaned forward. “...I’ve decided to come forward and reveal myself.”

“Okay…well, prove it” you squinted. Though your skepticism didn’t make the Hermes boy in front of you falter. Clearly, he expected this.

“The first thing you were given was a note, and…the two most recent gifts were a cassette tape and a bracelet — which was made from beads of your favorite color and charms like…” you zoned out as the boy started listing out some of your favorite activities that were indeed the charms on your bracelet. You fiddled with the bracelet that you had purposefully hidden out of his view right behind your back.

There was a pinch in your heart that signaled the last bit of hope dying. 

Oh…so Luke really wasn’t your secret admirer.

You internally scoffed at yourself. You should have known right after he said yes to helping you out with finding your secret admirer — which was originally an idea used as bait to determine if Luke was the sender or not, because if it was really him then he wouldn’t have agreed to help you out with this. However, not only did your best friend agree without much convincing from you, but he had seemed so nonchalant and unaffected as you named all these boys you wanted him to talk to. 

Perhaps this secret admirer thing was something good. Somebody has shown interest and their actions have been nothing but sweet. Those letters contained words that were eternally bound to your memories, even altering the way you view yourself for the better. Maybe you could get to know this person and move on from hopelessly crushing on your best friend.  

Halfway through, you realize you were so engulfed in your thoughts that you have zoned out to half of the things the Hermes boy was saying, and merely caught onto the last bit of his speech:

“...thinking maybe we could go on a date and get to know each other more tonight?”

Your stomach churned again, yet you nodded your head.

Move on. Move on. Move on. Move on. 

Your friends gave you questioning looks when you got back to where they were, clearly curious about what you were pulled away for.

“So…that was my secret admirer, and I’m going on a date with him tonight,” you hoped you sounded more enthusiastic than you were feeling. You tried convincing yourself at least it was good knowing definitely how your best friend actually felt about you. Quickly sitting down, you kept your eyes on Clarisse, knowing if you even looked over at Luke, he’d be able to tell straight away that something was wrong.

Your lack of focus also meant you didn’t think much of the quiet murmur from your best friend: “Sorry, I just remember I need to do something.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. It was now the afternoon and you just finished getting ready for your date. As you were leaving, you spotted a note at the foot of your cabin. Seeing your name written on the paper, you picked it up while eying it peculiarly.

“You could be the one that I love, 

I could be the one that you dream of,

Message in a bottle is all I can do, 

Standing here hoping it gets to you.”

Your gut feeling stirred, hitting you with waves of higher certainty over suspicions you have previously had and denied.

Those lyrics were directly associated with a memory from summer two years ago. 

Luke and you were sitting by the campfire when he asked what your favorite song was. You told him the name and mentioned you hadn’t listened to it in a while because using technology devices with signals were dangerous for Demigods. The conversation slipped your mind but clearly loitered in your best friend’s mind, because two months later while on your way back to camp from your quest together, he gifted you a tape player along with a cassette of said song along with others that you liked.

You blinked away the image of you leaning on Luke’s shoulder while the two of you listened to the song together on the train back to camp.

You re-read the note again while shaking your head. Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps, that Hermes boy knew the song and it was also one of his favorites. Perhaps—

Your hand started trembling around the paper. Your eyes landed on one small detail in the note: a particular handwriting choice. The rest of it matched with previous notes, but there was one singular scribbling feature you’ve never seen used before. 

Everything came crashing down and your internal eternal cycle of excuses and denial shattered.

You ran. It didn’t matter that it was raining and your attire was getting soaked. It didn’t matter at all because you were frustrated and confused. In other instances, you would have been elated at the possibility of mutual affection, but in that moment, exasperation blinded you from sensibility. 

If what you have concluded was true, then why on Earth would he allow you to go on a date with a person who stole credit for things they didn’t do? This whole time, he made you feel like a fool — for waiting that long and having hope after all that time; for asking the person you were looking for to hunt them down with you; for sulking despite having what you thought was a good opportunity to come along; for borderline going on a date with an imposter; and for not seeing it all along that it was him. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” you called out.

Despite the rain, you could see your best friend’s figure stiffened before turning around to face you. The boy stood with his hands behind his back, not yet daring to look at you. 

“The “th”. You connected the cross in the ‘t’ directly to the ‘h’,” you presented the note in your hand, pointing specifically at the slip up that Luke had made in the latest note, not caring of the raindrops that were hitting the paper. “It’s how I write it, and you started writing it the same way a year after we got to know each other because you liked the way it looked,” you pressed further.

The expression on Luke’s face painted your theory into the truth of the situation. You felt your hand slightly shaking at the revelation.

“Why? You left anonymous gifts and notes and watched me put on this hunt — which by the way, was for you. And didn’t even say anything when a guy lied and said he was my secret admirer? Is this one big cruel prank?”

“No—”

“Oh! Well then, surely at one point in this whole thing, you felt like you should just tell me?” 

“I was going to.”

“Then where were you when I was just about to head out with that fraud? Maybe if you really liked me and really cared for me, like all those damn notes say, you would have fought for m—”

“I did,” Luke finally raised his voice, his face briefly hardened in an attempt to convey his desperation. His chest heaved, and the way it did almost made you think the anger radiating off every inch of his skin right then was directed towards you. But it wasn’t, and he knew you knew. 

“I confronted him right after he claimed that he was the one who gave you all those things.” 

Invisible ivies rooted your foot to the ground. You gulped, trying to digest the information you were given. However, it finally sunk in when Luke’s hands appeared from behind his back. It was then that you could see the bandage wrapped around his knuckles. Your breath hiccuped in both flattery and worry at the implication of what he had done. The darkness behind those deep hazel-brown orbs reflected a certain side of your best friend that you hadn’t seen before. Although, part of you felt like you wouldn’t mind it.

It made Luke’s blood boil knowing what he dedicated to you from the bottom of his heart was spoiled by ill intentions. Luke should have known better than to carelessly write all the letters and craft those gifts right on his bunk bed, rather than discreetly. 

Once again, the Hermes cabin counselor was pulled back to memories from an hour ago. The way the other boy shot remarks at Luke’s lack of precautions, boasting his wrong-doings like someone incapable of having a guilty conscience. Luke's jaw tightened as the image of the sly smirk on the other Hermes boy's face flashed in his mind, but a wave of satisfaction ran through him as he recalled how quickly that smirk was wiped away by his own fist.

They might be brothers by a fraction, but blood or not, that boy was dead to Luke the second he tried tricking you.

“And no, I wouldn’t have let you go out with a fraudster. Never,” Luke’s eyes softened. “And in case it’s not implied enough: I like you…a lot. I was going to confess but then this guy came along lying,” Luke could feel that tremor returning once more to his fist. He hated that something he built, from scratch, on the foundation of sincerity was momentarily tainted by the hands of a spineless liar. Not only that, he hated witnessing somebody so dear to him getting deceived in such a tasteless manner.

“I also…didn’t want to get hurt. It was starting to seem like you would ever consider me as more than just a friend with the way you were listing out all these other guys. So for a bit there I was considering just keeping quiet…forever” he confessed, eyes now straying away from you and down to his shoes.

You observed your best friend through a new perspective. So your initial suspicions were true. You had thought it was him because all the things you have received hinted to somebody who knew you so well, and who else at camp but Luke knew this many things about you. But ultimately, another part of you — the proclaimed “logical” side — has hyper-analyzed every split second you two have shared and deemed that Luke has not given any true signs of interest in you beyond as a friend. Thus, you dismissed the thought of Luke being your secret admirer.

You know now to trust your gut feelings more.

“Oh, Luke Castellan, you dumb ass…” you spoke softly underneath your breath, but you knew he heard you perfectly clearly from the way he slightly peered up. Your heart almost shattered at the dejected look on your best friend’s face and the thought of him burying his feelings eternally. You sure as hell would not allow that to be this timeline.

“I’ve liked you ever since the day you went out of your way and gave me that first cassette tape,” the marveled look on Luke’s face over your confession made you continue, “I guess I should have known it was you…cause gift giving has always been your love language.” It seemed like the boy was too stunned and struck frozen. However, his shell-shock state didn’t last long, because soon, your best friend’s gaze reverted back to the way he has always looked at you, only slightly more intense.

Your eyes fluttered at the sight of Luke Castellan in front of you at that moment. You were finally able to see the effect you’ve always had on him. The way his lips hung slightly agape, eyes dilated in such a way you were no longer able to see their usual color anymore, chest slightly heaving despite lack of physical reasons for such a reaction. You almost wanted to hit yourself for being such a fool and not spotting these details sooner. 

“Now, Castellan…you have two options,” you stepped closer to him, leaving an appropriate amount of personal space in between. “You either kiss me or—”

Luke grabbed your wrist with his uninjured hand and pulled you in. The same hand-guided your arms around his neck while also effectively eliminating the remaining distance between you two. 

Without hesitation, he kissed you.

Likewise, you returned the action without a second thought. You frankly didn’t care about the rain that was soaking the both of you. Kissing Luke felt like such a natural act that it felt simply like diving home. The way he held you made you feel like you were a national treasure he was so afraid of losing. Gods, you don’t think you mind doing this ever so often.

Though, there was a certain urgency in the way Luke kissed you, as if afraid you’d either vanish or you’d change your mind. You pressed your lips harder against his, hoping he’d understand you didn’t intend on leaving or having a change of heart.

A grunt escaped his throat as you kissed him harder. Oh, Luke Castellan already knew he was in immense trouble. He knew almost immediately that the concerning number of thoughts he had about you each day would only increase tenfold from this day on. He wondered if you could taste all of his unspoken words. If kissing you felt like this, he might as well sign away his heart, body, and mind to you. In fact, he’d sign anything you put in front of him without even considering the fine prints. 

Luke slowly backed you against a tree, giving you a bit of support to lean against whilst shielding the both of you from the heavy rain. He smiled into the kiss as you hummed at his action, feeling it echo against his lips. His heart tugged, almost leaping out of his chest when your hands made their way to both sides of his face, cupping it intently like holding something yours. Yours. Fuck, he loved the sound of that. 

You were the first to break the kiss. The both of you gasped for air while maintaining eye contact. The close-up view of his intense gaze drove your cheeks rosy. You could not help but admire the way his locks of wet curly hair clung onto his forehead, while raindrops fell from his face, some following the length of his eyelashes before falling — Oh, the way he glanced down at your lips at that second made you feel almost like you had the power to convince him into anything at the moment. 

“You’re my best friend…” he broke the silence.

“Mhm.”

“...but what if I want you to be more than that?”

“I can be both,” Luke’s lips broke out into a smile, and you mirrored his facial expression. He leaned his forehead against yours whilst softly rubbing his thumb soothingly against your waist.

“I’m not against that.” 

As a larger grin broke out on your lips, Luke’s eyes further softened. He realized right there and then that anything you wanted, he would not be against it. A breath of relief quietly escaped beneath Luke’s breath. He could not wait for whatever was in store for the both of you in the future.

Good thing his messages in a bottle did get to you.

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