😟

(no hate, please keep feeding me this)

Watching you.

Information and warnings — Creepy Donnie, stalker, talks of masturbation, virginity, sex, I don’t know if this is intense enough to warrant a “Dead Dove Do Not Eat” but it’s in that realm so be advised, match his freak? (his freak is criminal behavior).

Donnie Darko was a boy you didn’t really know, you were aware of his existence, yes, but you didn’t really know anything about him except he had terrible handwriting. The two of you sat shoulder partner style in English class. You never really interacted other than the few times you would be missing notes from the day you were absent prior and you had asked permission to copy off of him.

This exchange meant nothing to you, it was to you a simple transaction, nothing more than an easy opportunity to cheat on the next quiz. Yet to Donnie, this was the start of a new life for him.

Donnie had a tendency to get obsessed with things, ever since he was little. When he was younger, he was obsessed with war movies, he would rewind the tape just to watch the bomb scene again and again. Destruction was only the start of his concerning interests. As he grew up, so did the obsessions, a few years prior he was stuck on guns. He passed it off as an interest in fighting for his country, drawing back to the war films, but in reality it was the power of destruction held just by his finger on a trigger.

Now a new one had formed. You see, what you had believed was simply copying notes, was to Donnie; an invitation to a new obsession. He began watching your every move, he knew every tic you had, every nervous habit, every scab that you didn’t know how to leave alone.

Donnie watched you like it was his job, and you didn’t notice it at all.

Donnie was great at that, really. If he was ever called out on his creepy behavior, he easily passed the blame on to his hallucinations, he would pretend to break down and explain that he didn’t want to be a bad guy! It was the people in his head! You have to believe him, sir!

Be it the hallucinations didn’t help his creepy behavior, but they definitely weren’t the only cause of it. Donnie knew he was concerning, and it was a thrill to him.

Yet, you knew nothing about it, you didn’t even notice him.

A part of him resented you for it, he hated you for it. Why won’t you look at him? Why won’t you give him what he desperately craves?

The other part of him, though, loved it. Donnie could stare at you for hours, and you didn’t even notice. You were so oblivious, it was so cute. Donnie thought about the danger you could get yourself into being this unaware, how some terrible person could hurt you, and you wouldn’t even know why!

You should thank him really, if it weren’t for Donnie following you, you could’ve ended up with a real nutcase as a stalker!

The thought of someone else watching you the way Donnie did made him violent, he wondered if any other guys or girls at Middlesex thought about you the way he did. He knew he would take care of them if they even thought about making a move on you, you were his! You just didn’t know it yet, but you didn’t know a lot of things really.

The stalking started out tame, he’d follow you around school, memorize your schedule, take notice of all your stupid friends who weren’t half as interesting as you were. It made him angry, you hung around such stupid people. Why did you spend so much time with these idiots when you could be with him, loving him, taking care of him.

You would soon, he just had to teach you!

The stalking evolved over the next few weeks. He just wanted to make sure you got home safe! Oh, and of course he wanted to know your favorite drink from the gas station! It’s his job to know this, silly!

You know, it’s really dangerous to keep your blinds open, you should invest in curtains! What if a sicko wanted to watch you get changed.

Donnie wasn’t a sicko though, so it was okay for him. It was just to learn about you more, he loved learning about you! He loved learning that you still wore superhero underwear, and how you had all your favorite bands on your wall. On his walk home, he bought a tape from one of your favorites, and hoped you didn’t miss the pair of underwear he took.

Donnie used the pair he took to masturbate frequently. He thought about you when you would listen to your walkman and dance around your room in nothing but a tank top and boxers, or how when you would masturbate yourself you would get really embarrassed after you finished.

He wondered about your virginity, had you slutted yourself out to one of the Middlesex losers, or if you were waiting for the perfect guy such as himself to take it from you.

Sex with you is what he thought about oh so frequently. Sometimes he thought about taking you out to a really nice restaurant, and bringing you home to meet his family, and then make love to you. Other times he would think about opening your window and going from there.

Donnie didn’t want to hurt you, well he did, but only if you would let him! He would never do something you didn’t want, that you knew of.

He just wanted you to notice him, for you to be as in love with him as he is with you! You were Donnie’s whole world, he told his therapist about you every session. Under hypnosis, he told Dr. Thurman he wanted to have sex with you, and she had to wake him up before he could continue his thoughts.

The lack of attention was starting to annoy him more than ever. You didn’t understand. He was perfect for you. Did he have to spell everything out for you? He knew he wasn’t in love with someone dumb. So he began to talk to you more and more to show you how much you really did need him.

You thought he was sweet, he was attentive when you spoke like every word that came out of your mouth was the most interesting thing he had ever heard, and he would leave you little notes in your bag when you were leaving class.

It was only a week of talking before the boy asked you to go with him, and you thought it was the cutest thing. You told him about your favorite bands, and movies, and he smiled and said the two of you should watch them together sometime.

Silly you, he already knew all this. You didn’t have to find that out though! You were his now! It didn’t matter how you got to this point..

SKINNY DIPPING pt. 3 ✩ Wally Clark

Pairings: Wally Clark x Fem!reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. very slow burn. semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, skinny dipping in a public pool, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, wally being a cocky little shit and very possessive, kinda dom!wally, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. wally whimpering???? (god have mercy)

Summary: For what feels like an eternity, Y/n and Wally have been nothing more than just friends. but that changes one reckless night when they decide to cross skinny dipping off their "100 things to do before crossing over" bucket list. Teasing and meaningless flirting turn heated, and the tension that has been simmering between them finally snaps. Under the moonlit water, boundaries blur, and their friendship is completely wrecked, in the best possible way.

Author's note: this is part 3!! part 1 and 2 are linked below! thank you so much for the love!! I'm so glad you guys liked this small series. I'm so sorry I took so much to finish this oh my god. university has been killing me lately lol but here is part 3! i might make more one shots like this with wally cause I love him so much.

Word count: 2209

Song choices: lose control - teddy swims, tear you apart - she wants revenge, closer - nine inch nails, flawless - the neighbourhood, do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys, TiO - zayn, again - noah cyrus.

masterlist. part 1. part 2. part 3

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Your entire body trembled as his fingers moved harder, faster, making your entire world narrow to the feeling of his fingers against your aching core.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breath coming in gasps, but you didn’t answer.

You couldn’t. Not when you were falling apart in his hands.

Not when you felt so good pressed against him.

So fucking good.

"And now, baby?" His tongue brushed over your lips, slowly. "Now you're gonna find out exactly what happens when you push me too fucking far."

The water swayed around you, rippling from the way Wally had you pinned against the smooth tile of the pool’s edge, his body pressed so tight against yours that there wasn’t a single inch of space left between you.

His breath was hot against your lips, his fingers working you in slow, devastating circles. Your body trembled against him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"You're shaking, baby." His voice was dark, thick with satisfaction, his free hand gripping your hip so tight. "And I've barely even started."

You dropped your head back against the wall, a desperate whimper falling off your lips. He was teasing you, holding you right on the edge, his fingers slipping lower, pressing, dragging, barely dipping inside of you before pulling back—just enough to make you lose your mind.

More. Please, God. More.

“Wally,” you gasped, hips bucking against his hand, a desperate pleading sound.

But he only chuckled, dark and rough, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “No, no. You don’t get to rush me. Not after everything you’ve put me through. You’re gonna take everything I give you, exactly how I fucking want.”

His fingers pushed in deep, stretching you, making you arch against him, a broken moan slipping from your lips. He swallowed it with his mouth, his kiss rough, messy, nothing but teeth and tongue and desperation.

And then—he slammed his fingers inside you.

You cried out, back arching, water splashing against the pool’s edge as his fingers curled, dragging slow, torturous strokes along your inner walls, his thumb pressing deliberate circles against your clit.

Oh my god.

“Wally,” you gasped again, this time more desperate, your entire body tightening as heat coiled low in your stomach. “I can’t—I’m gonna—”

But he didn’t stop.

“Gonna what?” His voice was pure sin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “Come all over my fucking fingers? Soak my hand while you scream my name? Say it.”

A sob tore from your throat as pleasure ripped through your entire body, making you convulse, your legs trembling. Your moan was so loud he clamped a wet hand over your mouth, groaning as he felt you tighten around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he growled, his forehead pressing against yours. “That’s it. That’s my good fucking girl.”

But he wasn’t done.

Not even close.

Before you could even catch your breath, he dragged his fingers out of you—slick, messy—lifting them to your lips.

“Open,” he ordered.

And when you obeyed, sucking his fingers deep into your mouth, his eyes darkened, his cock throbbing against your stomach. He pinned you tighter against the tile; he panted against your skin. His fingers still in your mouth, your tongue lapping at them hungrily, and fuck—he felt it. The heat, the desperation, the way you sucked his fingers deeper like you were trying to drive him insane.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmured, voice wrecked with lust, his free hand dragging up your thigh, squeezing, gripping, spreading you open beneath the water. “You look so good like this. So desperate. So fucking mine.”

His fingers slipped from your mouth with a wet pop, trailing down your chin, smearing your juices and saliva across your skin. He gripped your jaw, forcing your head back against the tile, his eyes devouring you.

"You wanted to tease me?" he rasped, his voice low. "Wanted to push me until I fucking broke? Well, baby—”

His fingers trailed down your throat, over your collarbone, until he was cupping your breast, rolling your hard nipple between his fingers, making you gasp. He pinched, just enough to make you whimper, to make you need more.

"You like pushing me, don't you?" He gripped your breast tighter, his thumb flicking over the hardened bud, making you arch against him. "You like watching me lose my fucing mind over you."

"Yes," your voice a breathless mess, but you still smirked, your eyes filled with lust. Oh, you were loving this. You loved seeing him like this. Feral.

His growl was dark, dangerous, with pure need. His other hand moved lower, spreading you again under the water, his fingers teasing, pressing, torturing.

"You love this, don't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, making you shiver. "Love making me want you. Love knowing you drive me fucking insane."

His fingers ghosted over your soaked folds, barely touching, just enough to make your hips jerk. Your body was on fire, every nerve screaming, every part begging for more. He knew it. He could feel your body trembling in his arms. And still, he didn't give in.

He wanted to teach you a lesson.

"I could do whatever I want to you right now," he whispered, his lips dragging along your jaw. "And you'd let me. Wouldn't you, baby?"

You swallowed hard, nodding, breathless. "Yes. Fuck—yes.”

His smirk was sinful, dripping with possession. “Then say it.”

Your mind was a mess, wrecked, clouded with nothing but him. “I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

A dark chuckle rumbled through his chest. “There you go, baby, such a good girl.”

His fingers pressed harder against your entrance, teasing, circling—but not pushing inside. You whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate, needy.

“Poor baby,” he cooed mockingly, his tone dark, so damn cruel. “So fucking desperate. You need me, don’t you?”

“Please,” you whimpered, your body trembling, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Wally—please.”

"Please what, baby? Use your words."

"Need you inside me." Your voice was wrecked, raw with desperation.

He tsked, shaking his head. “Not good enough.” His fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance, dragging slick, lazy strokes against your soaked folds. “You need me where?”

You groaned in frustration, your head falling back against the tile. “Inside me. Deep inside me. Please.”

"That's better," he murmured approvingly. "See how easy that was?" He slid his fingers inside you, stretching you open, slow, teasing, his thumb circling your clit in lazy, torturous strokes. “You’re fucking dripping for me. Been waiting for this, huh? For my cock to fuck you until you're begging for me to stop?”

Your entire body trembled, heat coiling low in your stomach, overwhelming, unbearable. “Yes—fuck—please.”

He pulled his fingers out, making you whimper at the loss, before gripping your hips and flipping you, pressing your chest against the wet tile. His breath was hot against your shoulder, his cock grinding between your thighs, teasing you, taunting you.

“You wanted to play?” His voice was pure sin, dripping with dark amusement. “Now, sweetheart, you’re gonna shut the fuck up and fucking take it like the good girl that you are.” He lined himself up, his fingers digging into your hips. “And you’re gonna fucking thank me for it.”

Then, with one devastating thrust—he slammed into you.

Your entire body jerked forward, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as he filled you, stretched you, made you take every thick inch of him in one deep stroke. The water rippled violently around you, waves crashing against the pool’s edge, your bodies colliding with pure, reckless need.

“Fuck,” Wally groaned, his fingers bruising against your hips. “You feel so goddamn good. So tight, so fucking perfect.”

Your nails clawed at the tile, trying to hold yourself up as he set a punishing pace, each snap of his hips sending a shockwave through your body. He wasn’t holding back—wasn’t teasing anymore. This was raw. Desperate. Dominant.

His lips ghosted over your shoulder, teeth scraping your skin before he bit down, hard enough to make you whimper. “This what you wanted?”

You could barely breathe, barely think. “Yes—fuck—yes.” Every nerve was on fire, every muscle clenched tight, and all you could think was: more, more, more. You needed more.

His chuckle was low, sinful. “Such a dirty girl. Wanted my cock so bad, didn't you? All you needed to do was ask, baby.” He slammed into you again, harder this time, deeper, the force making you gasp. "But you didn't ask, did you, baby? You fucking teased me until I couldn't hold back any longer. You wanted this the entire time, you little minx. Wanted me to fuck you senselessly."

He drove into you again, deeper this time, his cock slamming against your cervix, making you cry out. The force of it made your head spin, your vision blurring at the edges. You felt him, every inch of him, inside you, stretching you, filling you, claiming you, a possessive, almost desperate grip.

“So fucking good,” he panted, his voice rough with need, his breath hot against your neck. He began to move faster, harder, his hips bucking against yours, the rhythm relentless, unforgiving.

Your head lolled forward, your hair falling over your face, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He was pushing you to the edge, driving you insane, and you were letting him, wanting him to.

“Wally,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea, a raw, untamed sound.

"You like it like this, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. He pulled out, making you whimper at the sudden loss, his hands manhandling you with such ease, turning you around so that you're looking right at him, his eyes dark and possessive. "Fuck, baby. You take me so fucking well." He grabbed your thighs, lifting them a little bit more, and slammed inside you again, deeper this time, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his fingers gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, dilated, filled with a raw, feral hunger that made your heart pound against your ribs. "Look at me while I fuck you, while I make you mine."

He began moving harder, each thrust deliberate and powerful, his eyes locked on yours.

"Tell me you're mine," he commanded, his voice rough, his grip tightening on your jaw. "Tell me you belong to me, baby. Please."

"Yours," you gasped, your body arching against his. "Only yours."

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with desire, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. “Give it to me.”

And you did. Your body clenched around him, your muscles spasming, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washing over you, making you see stars, a raw, sensual ache. You cried out his name, your voice echoing in the night, your body convulsing around him.

He groaned, his own release building, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate. He slammed into you one last time, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm, the feeling of him spilling inside you, hot and thick, made you whimper.

He collapsed against you, his weight heavy, his breath ragged and uneven. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, just held each other, breathing heavily, the silence broken only by the sound of the water lapping against the pool’s edge.

Then, slowly, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his gaze intense. “What did we just do?”

He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, a gentle, almost hesitant touch. "Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice softer now, laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, your breath still catching in your throat. "I… I don't know," you whispered, the words barely audible. "Are you?"

He let out a shaky breath, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not... But I think I'm okay with that." He paused, his gaze searching yours, looking for any signs of guilt, regret, or even fear. "God, you feel incredible," he murmured. "I think I might be addicted to you."

"We shouldn't have done this," you whispered.

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and intense. "Maybe not," he admitted softly, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip. "But fuck, I can't regret it. I don't, baby, I promise. Not even for a fucking second."

"Wally," you whispered, your voice trembling. "What if we just ruined everything?"

He leaned closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. "Then we'll figure it out. And we'll do it together." His voice softened, yet the intensity remained, a promise buried deep in every word. "You're not losing me. No matter what happens, I won't let this break us."

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart ache and flutter all at once. Your fingers traced along his jawline, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath your fingertips. "Promise?"

His gaze darkened, serious and unwavering. "I promise. I promise. I promise. God, I swear," he murmured fiercely, sealing the promise with a lingering kiss. "It's you and me, baby. Always."

285 notes View Post

ermwhatthesigma

10 months ago

And that’s facts

clarke griffin really is the character ever. she pulls a lot of levers. only one person she's slept with hasn't died. she adopted a six-year-old when she was still a teenager. she had her first drink out of spite. she killed a panther by herself. her daughter has the memories of the dead love of her life. she's as homicidal as she is suicidal. she was in solitary confinement for almost an entire year. she learned mandarin and motorcycle riding because she stole it out of someone else's head. she decorated her prison cell with charcoal etches. she's been caked in mud and foam. no one ever taught her how to swim. if she cares about you, she might hum when she kills you. we only see her shower once in her life. she medically experimented on herself. she's been body snatched. everything her culture was based on turned out to be very, very incorrect. she was arrested for treason against her people and then does nothing but ensure the survival of her people for the rest of her life. she's eaten bugs. and she's bisexual

Look at me

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Being oblivious to Luke’s feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song ‘Boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron ~ “I could be a better boyfriend than him.” (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)

Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)

Note: I’m sorry if there are a lot of errors, I haven’t had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.

Word count: 4.8k

“People say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,” you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybody’s surprise when something else occurred.

It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.

It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach.

It didn’t help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine.

Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Cole’s backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better.

You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, he’d never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.

One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriend’s arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke.

Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside.

Luke’s jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.

For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Luke’s. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession.

Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Luke’s eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.

Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Luke’s chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy.

Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Luke’s lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.

Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call?

The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing.

Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.

“Hey, man,” when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, you lifted your head from Luke’s chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. “I’ll take over from here,” Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Cole’s chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded…too calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.

You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you.

Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.

You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. “All right, we’re done for the night, don’t you think?” your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before.

Yet, he was not there anymore.

~~~

Your cabin was not on the same side as Luke’s cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the person’s neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..

“Luke!” you called out, watching as Luke’s action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Luke’s momentary distraction to land a hit on Luke’s face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.

“Hey, knock it off,” you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didn’t. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Cole’s friends next to him, who promptly told the man:

“It was him. Luke initiated the fight.”

~~~

Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Luke’s hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him.

You deserved better.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.

“Devon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?” Luke frowned at the mention of Cole’s friend. Great, now he knew another idiot’s name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first.

“No, but what’s the point of telling Chiron that? It’s two against one,” he breathed out.

“Luke, you’re literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,” you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.

Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book.

“Why are you with him?” and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two.

“I know you, which is why I know that you’re absolutely miserable with him, so I don’t understand why you’re still with Cole,” Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.

“Y/N, please, as your best friend…” there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. “...You deserve better,” he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.

“Luke…” you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this.

His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. That’s how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset.

“Y/N, does he make you happy?” you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.

“Oh, this is who you left me to talk to?” Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. “The person who beat your boyfriend?” Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick “Unbelievable,” before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.

“I’m so sorry,” you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.

“Uhm, what are you waiting for?” Annabeth’s voice broke Luke from his irritated state. “Go after her,” the young girl nudged.

“I doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.”

“Yes, but you need to go after her before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late.”

“No, it’s not,” the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.

“Stop it, Cole. I don’t want to…” Your voice grabbed Luke’s attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.

“Come on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,” Cole replied.

When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip.

“I said ‘let go,’ Cole,” you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Cole’s cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.

Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, “Gods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, you’re such a whore, you know that?” If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Cole’ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face.

“Cole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.” Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Let’s go, this is not worth it,” you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.

“Man, you’re more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? You’re fucking difficult and clingy, that’s why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.” Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.

“You fucking bitch!” Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this.”

“Oh yeah? Come on!” you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. “I’ll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,” right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.

“If you know any better, then leave, Cole. And don’t come near any of us again, or I promise you…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Cole’s imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Luke’s face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.

You turned around and inspected Luke’s hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.

The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.

“Are you okay?” His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You haven’t seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.

“Am I okay? You’re the one with the bleeding hand.”

“You punched him quite hard.”

“He deserved it,” you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed.

“You know I had that handled, right?” you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,” you tried joking.

“No, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasn’t defending your honor,” he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be:

“I was defending the girl I’m in love with.”

You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always “looked” at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.

“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too.

“So….Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. So…why? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?”

“Luke…” you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?

“I love you,” he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think he’d say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.

“Luke, I never knew,” Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.

He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what.

"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.

“I never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didn’t know you felt this way, too. In fact,” you dryly chuckled. “I was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.” Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings.

“I thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?” he asked.

“What moves?”

“Uhm—the physical contact?”

“I thought you were just touchy.”

“I walked you back to your cabin every night!”

“Well, I thought it was just a best friend thing?”

“The first thing I do after every quest is search for you, you’re always the first one I want to see.”

“I really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.” He groaned at all of your responses.

“But do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every round…if I knew you were up for it.” He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didn’t think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmary’s bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.

“Can I kiss you?” He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.

“Kiss me, Luke.”

And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.

You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy.

“I wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like I’ve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I can’t wait anymore,” he whispered before whimpering against your lips, “please be mine.”

He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.

“That was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and I’ll give you an answer,” he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.

“Will you be mine, sunshine?”

“Yes, Luke. As long as you’re mine too.”

“I have always been yours.”

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ermwhatthesigma

2 months ago

jack champion is so

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