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#trouble!verse
ma1dita · 3 months
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partners in crime
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luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader [the trouble!verse]
MAIN SERIES MASTERPOST
summary: few things are certain in this life as a demigod, but one thing is for sure— you can’t fight fate when it pulls you and luke castellan together, over and over again. two young people who hate the gods are more like them than they think, for better or worse. annoyances to best friends to lovers
things to know: dionysus!reader's nickname is trouble & most of these can be read as standalones!
here's a playlist (spotify & apple music links now available!)
child of dionysus headcanons!
trouble!verse moodboard 1 & moodboard 2 & college!trouble by the lovely @24kmar
deleted scenes from a different universe (AUs)
play the extended cuts (blurbs from in-between)
character study: luke castellan & trouble
any works, updates, thoughts, musings, etc about this series will be tagged under #trouble!verse !
key: fluff - ☼ angst - ☽ smut - ☆ jo's favorites - ᥫ᭡
[rewind to before] pre-established relationship
trouble always finds me (trouble!reader origin story) 1.7k ☼
The one where he could tell you were trouble from the day he met you. (You're an annoyance, but not an enemy)
entropy ☼
The one where you both blur the lines between annoyance and admiration. (the promise of becoming partners in crime)
buddy system 4.2k ☼
The one where he comes with you to rescue your younger twin brothers, Pollux & Castor. (this is as close to a real quest that Mr. D will give you--might as well take someone you trust!)
somebody's angel 4.4k ☽
The one where you convince him he’s pretty, even with a scar. (songfic - Die Alone - Finneas)
feed the fire 1.2k ☼
The one where his focus is not on spilled food, but on you. (Luke realizes this is more than playful banter)
bedtime stories 2.4k ☼
The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don’t mind at all. (the both of you have feelings you want to admit, but duty calls!)
crazy little thing 3.4k ☼
The one where he uses all his drachmas to make you smile on Valentine's Day. (the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite, sometimes)
anything you want 1.6k ☼
The one where you and him have your first kiss. (You've always loved teaching the story of Orpheus and Eurydice; except when your Orpheus runs away from you)
said he likes crazy 2.1k ☼ ☽
The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's avoided you since your first kiss. (For being a son of Hermes, he has a way of calming your nerves)
[pause and remember us like this] established relationship
play pretend 5.1k ☼
The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren’t exactly together yet. (Drunk words are sober thoughts. Your dad just wishes Luke told you instead of him)
a wish your heart makes 1.4k ☼ ☽
The one where you share dreams, burn cookies, and it still reminds him of home. (The dryads will probably ban you from the kitchen after this)
chance encounters ☼
The one where you both daydream about different lives. (You think you'd find him anywhere, by soul alone)
to see the chaos through ☽
The one where he remembers he was never a good guy, just yours. (Luke makes the ultimate deal with the devil in order to save you)
not your goddess ☽
The one where you both know the best of days eventually have to come to an end. (songfic - Goddess - Laufey)
don't blame the kids ☼
The one where you both chaperone a trip to Mount Olympus. (the Olympians are bigger gossips than you thought they'd be)
trouble's coming for you 3.7k ☼
The one where Percy meets his two favorite counselors at Camp Half-Blood. (three times Percy is oblivious (and in the way) and the time he realizes you and Luke are in love)
now that we're older 3.5k ☼
The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. (Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl)
if you need to be mean (be mean to me) 1.5k☽
The one where he leaves before you wake up. (songfic - I Don't Smoke - Mitski )
[fast forward until we meet again] post-tlt
lovers, or partners in crime 2.1k ☽
The one where Annabeth and Percy think you’re guilty too. (the last day leading up to Luke's betrayal)
love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke 4.7k ☽
The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they’re still alive. (the five stages of grief after facing a loss)
to catch a thief 3.7k ☼ ☽
The one where duty calls at Camp Half-Blood. Again. (Your reunion with Luke isn't quite what you expected.)
solipsism 5.3k ☽
The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. (the four times Luke uses Backbiter to visit you during college ft. the first time you trust a god to help you)
angel with a broken wing ☼ ☽
The one where he falls from grace and still thinks of you. (the four women Luke Castellan risked it for and how it will end up killing him)
love me dry (LATEST ADD) 4.5k ☼ ☽
The one where he meets you at his mother's house, though both of you didn't expect the other to be there. (a glimpse into May Castellan's idea of a perfect day)
when the curtains close☽
The one where you lose two people in the Labyrinth that day. All strings are cut. (Annabeth and Pollux find out the biggest difference between you and Luke.)
asking for trouble ☽
The one where Luke's final wish is to see you. (He's himself again, and all he wants is to find out if the trouble was worth it all)
as above, so below ☽ ☼
The one where you plead your case with the gods of Olympus. (The one thing the fates didn't expect was how much you'd both be like your fathers; in a way, you and Luke didn't see it coming either)
ask to be added to luke/general taglist 🥹
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24kmar · 30 days
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𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓲 𝓮𝓷𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓣𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓫𝓵𝓮
based off by @mischiefmoons luke castellan x daughter of dionysus (aka trouble) series💕
Heard this song and thought of my girl, so i had to do her right 😭
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lilacspider · 3 months
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this is an appreciation post for @mischiefmoons for her luke castellan one shot series partners in crime!!!! cause girllll 👀👀
it be giving me BUTTERFLIES and everything!!! and the build up and the different phases it’s just so freaking good. i will ALWAYS stop by her page to see if she’s written another chapter. ✨
you can read it >>here!<<
go read it, like, right now!!!! 🤍🤍🤍
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rennorthernlights · 4 months
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Breaking You In
Ghost X Reader/OC——————————————————————————————
Brief Summary: Hiding your identity as an Omega is nothing new but hiding it in an Elite Taskforce is harder than you thought.
Your callsign is Mustang due to your stubbornness and the “Fuck You” attitude that you tend to embody. You take your heat-blocking pills religiously until they don’t come in anymore.
Just what you need… The beginning of Pre-heat is starting to show and your losing your mind with how annoying the Lieutenant is being.
(There’s no description of what Mustang looks like. I just wanted to name her that.)
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MINORS DNI+18 AND UP ONLY Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Non-Con to Dub-Con, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Aggressive Behavior, Aggressive Sex, Spanking, Dom/Sub, Forced Submission, Overstimulation, Ghost Ain’t A Good Guy In This But He’s Hot, Forced Bonding, Forced Mating, Semi-Public Sex, Semi-Clothed Sex, Breeding Kink, Ghost Tryna Be A Dad And Daddy, Choking, Hands On Throat, Tell Me If I Missed Any
MINORS DNI+18 AND UP ONLY
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The world has a love for Alphas in the military, they’re stronger and aggressive, good for the firefights and the bullets. Dominant and steelier compared to the Betas. Many of the Alphas tend to hold the higher positions in the military just due to their second nature alone. Leading most of the military fields save for the Betas that manage to keep up with them. Even the elite Taskforces are no different due to them being chalk full of Alphas and a handful of Betas. Only the best of the best is needed after all.
Omegas on the other hand… now that’s a different story. Most Omegas that choose to work have more of the “Less-Stressful” jobs. At least that’s what the unspoken rule is supposed to be. Some old-fashioned Alphas and even Betas would say that a good Omega is an Omega with their legs spread for a knot and filled with pups. Made to only raise the young and be good for their better mates. Depending on who you talk to it’s practically looked down upon if an Omega has a job.
Docile. Sweet. Easy.
That is what the world expects of Omegas. At least that’s what THEIR world expects. When you first presented as an Omega at the young age at 12 years old you refused to stay seated. Not surprising since your moms an Alpha and your dads a Beta, if anything they were more surprised that their daughter turned out to be an Omega.
“Just keep your head down.” Is what your mother would say to you over and over again. Snapping at you when you started doing things an Alpha or Beta would do. Their own views on how to train up an Omega became demeaning and suffocating. Even going so far that when you turned 18 years old your mother set you up with an old Alpha suitor.
With no foreseeable way out and your future hanging by tiny threads you did the only thing you could think of. Something drastic and life changing that could take you far away from your parents and that would-be suitor.
You signed up for the military.
18 years old and you dived headfirst into it. Inhaling nearly every heat-blocking pill on the market to hide what you are. Going against the rules and forging your documents. It’s amazing that you haven’t been caught but as long as you keep taking the pills there’s not much to worry about. Besides your CO’s would’ve blamed you if you caused the alphas to go into a rut if you chose to keep your heats. So what if you have to take some experimental pills? It keeps you safe and keeps you far away from your parents and the old Alpha your parents wanted you to mate.
Now, that was 5 years ago. 5 years of putting blood, sweat and tears into your military career. 23 years old and you gained the nickname “Mustang” for being far too stubborn and forward for your own good. Having an argumentative streak with your CO’s and calling them out for shitty plays on the battlefield. It’s no wonder that when the Captain of the 141 read over your file that he immediately requested for you to join. Seeing the potential in you and fire in your eyes reminded him of his Beta, Gaz.
At first you thought it was a joke, a jest that he’d want someone with only 5 years of experience, at least until you realized that he was dead serious in his inquiry. The Alpha Captain became deadset on taking you under his wing to help mold you into something better.
Upon meeting the team, you got along like dry leaves in a fire when you met Gaz, a kind and ever-patient Beta Sergeant. Nearly had your minds meld together when meeting Soap, the demolition Sergeant, and in time he told you with complete trust that he’s an Omega. The 141 treat him normally and as if he’s not just his nature was very eye opening to say the least, to see a fellow Omega be treated so well nearly made you come clean. But you digress, you trust them with your life but not something like this.
You got along well, building up lifelong bonds all except for the Lieutenant… he’s as Soap likes to call him. “A spooky bastard.” Hard and tough around the edges, as prickly as a cactus and even more of a hardass when it comes to drills.
Though it’s to be expected especially from the way he’s always in a corner, brooding with hardly a tell of an emotion with that skull mask of his on. Doesn’t help that he’s always quick to spot your mistakes. Every single mistake. Quicker to growl a sneer when you butt heads. Though you hate to begrudgingly admit that you’ve learned more under his watchful eyes. Amber brown eyes that always seem to be on you the second you’re in sight.
Though it’s been like that for months; you’ve had an easy rhythm with the Sergeants and you fall right into step with the Alpha Captain but for some reason. You and the Lieutenant? It’s like the two of you can’t see eye to eye. Doesn’t help that he’s been constantly hovering over you, being an unwanted guardian as he wards off the other Betas and Alphas. His scent always around you and sometimes on you much much to the increasingly teasing Sergeants. An almost knowing look in Soaps eyes when he smelled Ghost on you… again.
Your clothes somehow carry his scent like as if he’s rolling around in it. You swear that if it wasn’t for the pills you take you would’ve gone into heat a couple months ago. It’s annoying that the Lieutenant, the bane of your existence, gets his scent on you. Wards off the guys and ladies that you used to have one-night stands with. The soldiers fearing the wrath from a man who isn’t even your mate and you hate that he’s fucking with your ability to get laid these past couple months.
It reaches a boiling point when the Captain is put on a month-long bedrest, no longer able to play mediator between the two of you. Hell, even the Sergeants have a hard time breaking up the yelling matches you both have.
“Have some fucking respect.”
“Maybe try earning it.” You growl back, postering at him like an Alpha would. The other soldiers already leaving the breakroom to not have to deal with whatevers going on between the two of you.
The latest argument you’re having is over something useless that you can’t be bothered to remember. All you know is that he said something that’s pissing you off. Doesn’t help that the latest request for your heat-blocking pills haven’t been cleared just yet. You told Price in confidence a couple months back about what your second nature is, course you got an earful, but he swore he’d keep it to his grave. Normally he’s is quick to have them sent in but since he’s been on bedrest the paperwork has just been sitting in his office desk drawer collecting dust. You’ve already been off it for a week, swallowing your immense pride, you had sent in the request to a higher up that Price trusts but for some reason they never come in.
Your body is going through the drawbacks. That scent of yours has been jumping from sour to sweet throughout the days making your hormones shoot up dangerously. Hindbrain starting to encourage your pre-heat to flush out the remaining toxins of the pills. Any other team and you’d be scared but due to how well Soap is treated, you’re not too worried. So far no one has called you an Omega or even tried to imply what you are, and you would prefer to keep it like that.
The Lieutenant scoffs at your audacity pulling you from your thoughts as you shake your head of them. “I think I’ve earned plenty of your respect since I’ve saved your hide more times than I can count,” dark amber eyes narrowed as he stares down at you. “Omega.” Smelling out your second nature and it makes you freeze up. Your hands balling into tight fists as you fight the instinct of running away. A whisper in your ear that you should just stop antagonizing him but no. No, you press on.
Standing up straighter and if your glare could deepen any more then it would. “Don’t call me that, Ghost.” Distain towards him as your scent spikes up in a sweetening anger. Pre-heat befuddling your mind as you nearly bared your throat when he called you by your nature.
“What should I call you then, Mustang?” Taking a large whiff of the room. His eyes darkening, “You smell like an Omega.” Taking a step forward and you feel more acutely aware of how it’s really just you and him in the breakroom. “Smell just like one in pre-heat too.”
He lunges forward. “Hey! What are you—?!” An alarm goes off in your head to get away as he moves far too quickly for you to scramble and evade him, large hands grabbing and shoving you against the wall. “Let go!” You yell and throw your fist forward that he easily catches. Gripping hard and snatching your other hand to force them over your head. His thigh sliding hard between your legs as you breath in sharply. “You fucking basta-“ thick fingers shove into your mouth, you gag and cough at the sudden intrusion. Eyes watering in response and you see the blatant amusement in his eyes. Anger riling up so you bite down on the fingers forcing him to yank them out.
Guess he didn’t like that as grabs your neck with the same bitten fingers. “Feisty little Omega.” Squeezing your throat causing you to gasp as his grip hardens until you start to see spots. “No wonder you’ve been acting the way you’ve been. Heat coming up now that you ain’t downing those pills. Just need an Alpha to put you in your place, yeah?” The muscles in his thigh tense as grinds it against your core. Releasing just enough pressure from your neck that makes you gasp and gulp for air. If your brain worked faster you would’ve caught on to the fact that he knows you take pills.
“F-Fuck you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” brown eyes rolling, “Always such a mouth on you.” Moving his hand down your throat, ghosting over the mounds of your breast till he cups one through your shirt and squeezes. “Maybe a knot will make you easier to work with. Make you nice and pliant. When’s the last time you’ve been fucked anyways?” A grin under his mask as he knows exactly how long it’s been for you.
Your heart beating wildly as your teeth nearly stab into your lip to bite back a moan. His thumb pressing on the nub of your nipple through your bra and shirt. “No smart mouth, no snippy remark? Guess I finally shut you up.” Smirking under his mask as he spots the table in the breakroom before looking back at you like as if he’s been given the most amazing idea. His hand moving to the back of your neck and forcing you to move.
Jerking around and fighting uselessly as he bends you over the table stomach down. Hiking your ass up to present even as you try an squirm away. Almost successful in your attempt until a hard smack resounds in the room. Eyes bulging wide as he pulls his hand back and does it again. “Ah!” Screaming out as he smacks your ass with purpose. His hand on the base of your neck keeping you face down as you squeal and pant.
A meek, defiant growl from you as he responds with another harsh smack. “Behave, Mustang. Be glad I’m not making you count them.” Tears pricking your eyes as they shut tight, having mentally lost count of it ten slaps ago.
Tears falling down your face wetting the table as you half expect another smack and yet he cups your burning ass, your pants have done nothing to shelter your cheeks as you felt every sting of the assault. “There we go.” Gasping quietly when his large fingers grasp and fondle to soothe the ache, “Already bein sweet for me.” Taking a lungful of your enticingly sweet smell, “Can smell your slick,” he states downright devilishly as you tense. Your ass stiffening while your thighs shift tightly together, your body betraying you as you hate how right he is.
Tutting disapprovingly and reaching his hand around and dipping inside your pants right when you start to protest weakly. Sliding a gloved finger harshly against your soaked panties. “Soakin my glove.” Cupping your soaked cunt as it seeps into his glove. “Naughty, naughty Omega.” Purring against your ear making you wail louder. You’d try to escape if he wasn’t pressing his whole weight down on you. Kicking your feet apart with his boot and thrusting forward, canting his strong hips against the flush of your clothed ass. Something impossibly hard pressing and rubbing against your bottom that makes your eyes roll back as his fingers graze harder on your panties in time with his thrust.
“S-Shit.. ah s-stop! Please,” you beg as it’s too much, you haven’t been sexual with anyone in a while. Especially with your hormones out of whack, his scent smells stronger, dominating and thickening in the room. Invading your nostrils, intoxicating and encouraging more wetness out of your disloyal cunt. The sensitive walls clench when he presses a finger inside, your hole clenching around the cotton, the fabric of your panties rubs against your throbbing clit. You can’t stop the moans that fall from your lips even if you wanted to.
A coil starting to curl within you. “No, no, no, ah!” Your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues humping more aggressively. Grinding and circling his hips against yours, the table creaking under you as his strong body keeps you under him. Trapped and forced to just take it as the pleasure he’s giving you is mixing up the signals in your brain.
You don’t even realize his hand on your neck has left in favor of shucking his mask up, latching his hot mouth against the glands on your neck. Teeth grazing on the sensitive gland as the heat of his mouth sends shocks through your body. “This what you needed, pretty girl?” Whining in response when he removes his hand from inside your pants. His glove soaked with your juices. “S’why you’ve been such a brat. Had to keep pushin and pushin me till I had to do somethin about your problem.”
“N-no I-“ breath hitching as he bites on your throat, sucking harshly as you can’t find the words to speak coherently. Small mercy that he didn’t bite down too hard on the mating gland, merely sucking bruises on it. A grin etching into the skin of your sensitive throat. His tongue lapping and circling as he feels you shake and mewl under him. Having a harder time to not give into your baser needs. Body betraying you as you buck back in time with his canting hips as your hands move and fist near your face.
Finally letting up as he leans back, you breathe so hard as you look behind you through half-lidded eyes. Sweat beading around your forehead causing your hair to stick to your skin. His hands working fast to unbuckle his belt and pants. Pulling them down past his thighs and his boxers following suit. Eyes widening as you see his large thick cock already leaking pre. The flare of his knot making him seem much thicker. Cock slapping against his stomach and you know that a knot like his won’t fit. Blood pumping faster as you fear you can’t take that size in you.
Watchful molten eyes noticing how you try to shift away from him. A thick hand landing forcibly on your back to keep you still as he works on undoing your pants. Pulling them down as you stutter and beg for him not to. “No, no, no, darling. Gotta give you my knot.” Panties falling down, the ever increasing shame burns on your face as your slick slides down. “See? You want it. Need it from the looks of it.” Arms shaking and you try to hit behind you as he just laughs cruelly. Grabbing both of the flailing arms and pinning them against your back with one hand.
Your thighs instinctively try to close but he’s having none of it. Forcing your legs apart with another kick of his boot. A firm grip on your hip before sliding it under a bit to make you lift your reddened ass up. Slotting the meat of his cock through your glistening, fluttering folds. Sliding in between over and over, slowly teasing your engorged clit with the head of his thick tip.
“So fuckin wet for me. Haven’t even fucked you yet and you're pouring on my cock.” Moaning embarrassing louder as he inches the tip into your tightening hole.
A forceful push, heading deeper inside as you plead for him to pull out, to stop what he’s doing but he doesn’t hear you. Too lost in the feeling of your warm, tight cunt squeezing so nicely around him. Even with the gush of your wetness easing a bit of the stretch, it still burns. Ghost is by far the thickest you’ve ever taken. He doesn’t stop until he’s buried all the way to the hilt. “Fuck!” He murmurs lowly while his eyes shut just as yours do from the feeling of being so full.
Pussy gripping him hard, “Relax for me.” Grunting hard as he circles his hips. The hand under your hip lifts you a bit more as your mouth parts to suck in air. “You can take it. That’s a good girl.”
Hardly giving you the time to adjust as he pulls back, his tip not escaping your heat before slamming back in. Whimpering due to the electrifying shot of pain and pleasure, “P-Please, it.. it ah hurts!” Ghost murmurs something rough as tears begin to prick your eyes. His hand moves from your hip and instead of stopping his thrusts, he circles a finger around your wanting clit. Your eyes opening wide as more slick starts coming out more. Easing his large cock in you as your body starts to take him better.
“That’s it, that’s a good little slut,” slamming his hips fast as his fingers work a slow torturous pace on your bundle of nerves. “Doin so good for me Omega. Clench ‘round me baby.” Heavy balls slapping with each harsh thrust. His mouth latching against your glands, muddling your brain further as your Omega nature preens in response of being taken by this strong alpha. “Knew you’d be perfect for me. Just had to stop the pills from coming in.” His damning words not heard as he keeps up his brutal pleasuring pace. The smell of the heady sex permeate the breakroom, filthy sounds of wet slaps of thigh against thigh only enthralls your Omega nature more.
Becoming pliant as you moan and keen high in pleasure, mouth hanging open as the tip of his cock bullies into your tight cunt, making a home inside your gummy walls. His grunts and dirty words sinning against your ear as he growls about how you’re his now. That you’ll never escape him. A possessiveness scent seeping into the room as you babble useless words. His fingers, nearly forgotten due to the mind-numbing pace of his burrowing cock, start to move faster and press harder against your clit. Sliding his finger side to side just as fast as the hard smack of his balls intensifies the pleasure tenfold. “Cum for me, Omega. Wanna— agh,” grunting deeply behind you, “Wanna feel it.”
Your traitorous body gives in when he angles his hips and slams against that spot that makes you scream. Stars blurring your vision as you cum, squeezing and milking his cock as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. The tightening walls suck him back into your greedy pussy. “Gonna breed you good.” A heavy-laden promise as his eyes darkens with dangerous lust. His upper body hunching over as he presses his forehead against the side of yours as you plead for more. His hand moving from your pinned arms, placing his elbow beside your head to give himself more leverage as pistons his hips faster.
Hammering into your pussy as the wood of the table screams from the exertion and scraps against the floor. Your words bouncing against the walls, “Pl-Please, please, please!” Begging for it now. Begging for more, for his cum and his knot. Too lost in the pleasure to really understand what you’re saying. “Alpha, Alpha please!” Crying out as it’s too much and yet not enough. Overwhelming animal instinct to be bred by your strong Alpha. Arching your hips in time to feel him growl loudly, the vibrations tingling up and down your spine.
“I’m going to, Omega, I’m going to.” pulling back suddenly before slamming back into you full force with his damning vow. “I’m gonna breed you till you can’t take it.”
Pulling back out and forcibly turning you around, back now on the hard surface of the table. He looks downright predatory as he licks his lips. Yanking the rest of your pants and panties off, ripping them off even with you wearing your boots in wanton abandon, discarding them out of sight and out of mind.
His hands grabbing your ankles and placing them over his shoulders. Your boots scraping the skin of his flesh be he could give less of a fuck right now. Maneuvering your knees against your chest to fuck you deeper, feeling deliciously constricted since his body is blocking out everything from your sight. Everything but him.
“Gonna give you my knot. Make you mine in every way.” The newer position makes him feel even larger inside you. Pounding into you as your moans sound heavenly to his ears. Pressing more of his weight into you, caging you in as if his only thought is to fuck into your fertile womb. An animalistic need in his eyes as he gives into his own nature to claim the Omega under him. “You want it? Want my knot? Beg for it.”
“Want it! Want it s-so bad! Please, Alpha!” Wasting no time as you work hard to form the words. Jumbling and spilling over it but you don’t stop in your mindless pleading. Your pleading flipping a switch in him as he no longer cares about the consequences. He’ll deal with them later because right now all he wants to do is fill your pretty pussy till it overflows.
Surging forward, his teeth bites down harshly against your mating gland. Mine. Mine. Mine! Eyes rolling back to your skull as you cum faster and harder. The build up of the dam inside the both of you breaking as the swell of his knot starts to catch. Teeth digging into your neck as he intends to make the binding claim as deep as he can. Tears springing out your eyes as your legs shake in the tidal wave of pain and pleasure.
“Mine.” Growling aggressively in affirmation as he moves away from your throat and kisses you roughly, “Mine.” Mouthing the word against your swelling lips that can’t keep up with him. His hips stuttering as his muscles clench, the need for him to cum approaching faster. Balls tightening up as he forces home his thick knot inside your sensitive walls. “Mine!” His forehead falls against yours as he roars out that soul-claiming word. Hot spurts of cum filling your greedy and welcoming womb. His knot expanding wide and locking you to him for now.
“G-Gho— mph!“ his lips dominating against yours, shutting you up as he grinds his knot while his balls empties the rest of his thick seed in you. Moans being swallowed by the other in response. Tongues wrestlings as he takes hold of your boot and eases it off his shoulder. The other following suit as he wraps them loosely around his waist. Your mewls being swallowed by the hungry kiss that he gives you, possessive and devouring as he doesn’t let up. Moving his mouth down, trailing kisses and nips gently against your chin and then to your throat where the mating mark is on your neck. His permanent mark on you.
Chest against chest as you both pant heavily. The clothes worn sticking almost uncomfortably due to the sweatiness of each other. His warm tongue lapping lovingly against the mark he made before he finally leans back. His knot still keeping the both of you connected as it won’t deflate for a bit longer. The smell of the intense coupling is sure to deter anyone from even getting within 30 feet of the breakroom. Not that he’d ever let anyone see you like this. Not his pretty little mate. No, no, no, this sight is for him and him only.
Drinking in the vision of you, mellowed out and soft on the hard table. Hair spread around you like a halo, tired eyes shutting to a close, mouth open and panting. The bulge in your stomach scratches at the delicious size difference between the two of you. His cock twitches from inside you as he wonders how you’ll take him if he took your plump ass. Though an animalistic instinct demands that he not waste his seed, preferring to keep his Omega filled with his warm seed. Snug and protected safely in your precious womb.
“Ghost,” your words softer than he’s ever heard it, eyes opening as you shiver from the shift in his touching, his scent smells more welcoming. More warmth, like firewood on a cold night and the bourbon that he likes. The rare gentleness throwing you off a bit as he rocks his hips forward. A low hiss from your mouth as you’re far too sensitive and yet a slow build of pleasure starts to grow as your overstimulated pussy clenches in response. Your head turning up with a needy whine.
His lips pull back into a wolfish smile. Needy Omega he muses to himself. His Omega. “Simon.” Stating his name and he places a large warm hand over the bulge of your stomach. A primal instinct lighting up at the thought of the seed catching on the first try. Imagining you round with his pups is a black hole that he’ll gladly fall into. He didn’t mean to bite you, didn’t mean to claim you but what’s done is done.
He just wanted to fuck and get rid of his obsession over you but if he did this all over again he wouldn’t stop himself. He’d gladly bite you over and over again.
“Call me Simon.” Your breath hitching as he says his name firmly, commanding you to him by a name he rarely gives out. “Want you to say my name from now on.” His knot starting to deflate. “After all,” He may not have meant to bite you but that doesn’t mean he won’t uphold it. You’re his now. He won’t let go of you no matter how much you’ll kick and scream once your senses finally come to and the high of pleasure fades. Slowly pulling out as his potent cum spills out. Your head scrunches up, sighing pathetically from the loss of his cock.
“You’re mine now.”
His hand sliding between your shaking legs that still wrap loosely around his waist. Scooping up the cum that tries to escape, to go where it shouldn’t. A rumble in his chest, his second nature demanding to keep his Omega filled and sated. His fingers push it back in eliciting a sharp gasp. He can’t help but grin at how sensitive you are.
He leans close and as he uses his fingers as a plug. “Now be a good little mate and keep’em safe. Gotta make do on my promise to breed you after all.” His cock already starting to harden, his stamina has always been the best and he’s never broken a promise.
Ever.
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livwritesstuff · 2 months
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The first Harrington family cat was planned.
Hastily planned, sure, but still planned.
Steve and Eddie’s daughters had been campaigning for a puppy for ages, which…would not be happening. 1984 might have been thirty years ago and maybe Steve should have recovered from that shit by now but he knows for sure and certain that he couldn’t handle getting a dog – ever, and especially not since Moe turned thirteen (the same age Dustin had been when Steve was convinced he would have to watch him get torn to shreds by a stampede of demo-dogs).
Then, one of their neighbors got a tiny little kitten and all three of their daughters were so obsessed with it that their quest for a family pet took a complete 180.
Steve and Eddie saw a window of opportunity and they were going to take it, so they picked a weekend, went down to the animal shelter, and three hours later, a tiny black and white kitten named ZZ (as in Zinnia, if you asked the girls, Plant if you asked Steve, and Top if you asked Eddie) was adopted.
The second (and final) Harrington family cat was not planned.
Two years after they adopted ZZ, Eddie took Hazel to the shelter to say hello to all the animals (which they did all the time). Pretty much the second they arrived, they both fell head-over-heels in love with a two-year-old tabby cat, and because Steve accounts for about 90% of Eddie’s impulse control, it didn't take Hazel much more than suggesting they adopt the cat for Eddie to agree.
Halfway through the drive home with their new cat, Bowie, in the backseat, Eddie realizes that he might have made an error.
“This is gonna be our secret for a bit, okay Haze?” he said slowly.
“How come?”
“Uh…it’s gonna be a surprise.” 
(Which technically isn’t a lie – it would definitely come as a surprise to Steve whenever Eddie figured out the best way to tell him).
In the end, it took Steve two entire days to discover the new cat, when he heard a meow coming from behind Hazel’s closed door.
He assumed it was ZZ until he turned his head and saw ZZ sitting at the end of the hall and flicking her tail as she slowly blinked at him.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered as he pushed open the door.
Indeed, there was a cat in Hazel's bedroom.
Steve stared at the cat for a while (mostly just making sure he wasn’t imagining it), and after a few moments it opened its mouth and let out a squeaky meow.
“Hello,” he replied cautiously.
Then he shut Hazel’s door, and called his husband.
Eddie, the second he picked up: Stevie, my love. To what do I owe the pleasure?
Steve: Why is there a cat in Hazel’s room?
Eddie:
Eddie:
Eddie: ZZ?
Steve: I'm going to kill you.
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seance · 5 months
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if you go, i'll stay / you come back, i'll be right here like a barge at sea / in the storm, i stay clear 'cause i've got my mind on you / i've got my mind on you
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taikanyohou · 11 months
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“I made a shape of the shape he made, subtracted what he shared with anyone else. It was too much to bear. I turned off the headlights of my looking and let the animal get away.” - Portrait Of Fryderyk In Shifting Light, Richard Siken. Tseng Jing Hua As Pu Yi Yong + Peng Cian You As Cao Guang Yan. OH NO! HERE COMES TROUBLE (2023).
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yuesya · 7 months
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When does everyone realize that Shiki!Satoru is not weaker? Or that it's more than prison realm? Or are they always in that bubble until Satoru comes back? Sorry for the onslaugh of questions but I'm just anticipating the reactions of Shiki being shown to be on the same level as canon!Satoru.
This wasn’t the plan.
Yuta bites back a grimace, fingers tightening around the sword in his hand. This wasn’t the plan. It was supposed to be a surprise assault, scouted out beforehand by Mei Mei’s crows. Tracking Kenjaku down to where he was hiding hadn’t been an easy task, but they’d done it. They’d finally found him, and hatched a plan: Yuta and Hakari-senpai would be Gojo-sensei’s backup, while Maki would lead the others in clearing out the cursed spirits under the man’s control.
In the past, Gojo-sensei needing backup was a laughable prospect. But ever since he’d come out of Prison Realm, Gojo-sensei had been… off.
Slightly different mannerisms. Memory loss, to the point where he’d been asking after people who’d been dead for years. Even his control over his own cursed technique had degraded; Gojo-sensei no longer kept up a permanently-active barrier of infinity around himself, citing something about the formulas giving him a headache.
Everyone had been rightfully terrified by what that implied.
Because Gojo-sensei was The Strongest, and with the absolute chaos that the world had been thrown into… more than ever, they needed Gojo-sensei’s strength.
But even so, Gojo-sensei hadn’t had any trouble wiping the floor with them during training sessions (“Your sword form is atrocious, Yuta.”) and… and it should’ve been fine. His control over Limitless was getting better. It should’ve been more than enough to take out Kenjaku–
Across the debris-ridden field, Fushiguro smiles cruelly, four eyes blinking slowly.
… Well. Not Fushiguro, even if he was still wearing his face, and something inside Yuta both burned and recoiled at the sight of seeing his underclassman like this, his soul suppressed and his body reduced to a mindless puppet for the King of Curses.
Sukuna.
Sweat drips down Yuta’s brow, from the sheer pressure that’s exuded by the cursed spirit. Who would’ve thought that Sukuna would arrive to protect Kenjaku? This was– this was–!
This was really, really bad.
If it had been Gojo-sensei before he’d been sealed in Prison Realm… maybe he could’ve done it. Gojo-sensei was a towering titan standing heads and shoulders above every other sorcerer in this age, and even against the one christened as the Strongest in history… it was likely that Gojo-sensei could take him on and win.
But Gojo-sensei was weakened from his stint in Prison Realm. If he fought Sukuna right now, before he had recovered his full strength, then it was likely that he would die, and there would go the world’s final hope at stopping either of the two malicious entities hell-bent on destruction.
Kenjaku, who’d opened the floodgates for death and ruin.
Sukuna, who cared for nothing aside from bloodshed according to his whims and desires.
If only Gojo-sensei was still–
Sukuna suddenly makes a sharp gesture with his hand.
Everything around them instantly disintegrates –no, not disintegrates, Yuta realizes. Is sliced into pieces, into so many pieces that it’s reduced to dust, and that’s–
–how is he still alive?
He’d drawn up his cursed energy in an attempt to protect himself, but he’d been late. By all means, he should be dead–
“Gojo-sensei,” Hakari-senpai mutters, and it’s at this point that Yuta realizes that there are traces of Gojo-sensei’s cursed energy lingering on them. Them, and every other sorcerer in the nearby vicinity.
Limitless?
Had he… had he extended his Limitless barrier to every sorcerer within range of Sukuna’s unprompted attack?
Yuta instinctively glances towards his teacher. The white-haired man’s clothes are looking a little tattered, but he himself is still unharmed, which makes Yuta quietly breathe a sigh of relief–
“Look at you,” Fushiguro’s voice sounds wrong. Probably because it’s not Fushiguro’s voice at all, but the King of Curses speaking through his body. “Hastily forcing your reverse cursed technique like that. Are you scared that your students will lose confidence in you if they see you bleeding?”
Bleeding?
But Gojo-sensei isn’t injured! He–
“… He prioritized protecting everyone else over himself, didn’t he?” Yuta pales. No wonder Gojo-sensei looked a little roughed up while everyone else was fine; if he’d taken the full brunt of that attack–!
(But come to think of it, when did Gojo-sensei’s reverse cursed technique become that powerful? For Yuta not to catch him operating the technique at all, his recovery would’ve had to be instantaneous, recovering as soon as he was injured.
Since when…?)
“Forcing my reverse cursed technique?” Gojo-sensei scoffs, faintly derisive. “As if. Something of this level is nothing to me. All of you, looking down on me just because I’m not as good with Limitless… it’s really insulting, y’know?”
“Oh?” Sukuna appears amused. “But your lauded Limitless is all you have going for you, Six Eyes.”
For some reason, Gojo-sensei throws back his head and laughs.
“I’m going to enjoy making you eat those words, King of Curses.”
This time, it’s Sukuna who scoffs. “As you are right now, you think you stand a chance? You really think you can kill me?”
Gojo-sensei smiles sharply, a challenging expression that’s borderline feral. “I’ll have you know that there’s nothing in this world I can’t kill.”
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fwoosheye · 6 months
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*sighs* Not again
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Okay so it's another LU idea and can someone please adopt it so it will leave me alone? Anyone? I have too many projects already. Someone please save me!
Anyway. This is a "Legend is the last one to join the chain" idea. He was practically raised by Fi after he pulled the Master Sword for the first time (was it @bokettochild who came up with that? I know I've read some really good fics with that but I'm not sure I remember by who correctly. Please correct me if I've mixed people up), and it takes place on Lorule's Death Mountain. Link is a regular at the Treacherous Tower, because it's an easy way to earn money and with the Triforce restored the monsters aren't as mindless as before so he actually befriends them (though I hc the monsters in the T-Tower were the least mindless to begin with (at least the ones in the audience, maybe the ones one fights were caught mindless ones), probably around the level of Blind the Ex-Sage the Thief, and that they just became more "stable" and better att communicating when the Triforce was restored). Anyway when the story takes place, Link is actually filling in for the final boss because the Purple Moldorm is sick and their new Union demands sick time or something.
When the chain appears in Lorule it's fairly near the T-Tower and when they ask the Devilish Girl about the Hero and learn he's the final boss, they realize someone will have to get up there and defeat him for his shift to end. She will only let one of them enter, so Sky, Warriors or Wild traverse the Tower with the Master Sword in hand (and I'd pick one of those three because they're aware of Fi's presence. Wild might be post-TotK Wild).
When Sky/Wars/Wild finally makes it to Legend there's some brief chatting, and when they attempt to attack each other they simultaneously get their hands burned and Legend accidentally hisses an undignified "Mom!" at Fi making the other Hero realise this teen was practically raised by a sword (and yes this is the scene that gives me the urge to write this, please save me). It becomes a sword-less battle, because Legend shift won't end if he's not defeated and his (magical?) contract don't permit him to hold back more than making it non-leathal. Tri-Force Heroes might've taken place before ALBW for this fic so Legend actually can use doppels/doppel medallion/etc so there 3v1 for a bit. Surprising move from Sky/Wars/Wild eventually sees Legend defeated and he meets the rest of the chain. He probably offers to guide them to the Castle to talk with Princess Hilda, if it doesn't turn out they've managed to get the information they want from the monsters on the audience while they watched. Maybe the chain are chatting about different friendly/civil monsters they've met during their adventures while descending the mountain. And/or Sky/Wars/Wild asks Legend why he addressed his sword as mom.
And because I am utterly incapable of keeping a story idea short, I was also considering to make it so Link is stuck in Lorule because the bracelet only had enough power left to send one of them home to Hyrule and both Link and Princess Hilda agreed Princess Zelda should be the one to return. Ravio would in that case likewise be stuck in Hyrule because he didn't have enough magic. He had probably managed to sneak into Hyrule's Sacred Realm trying to go home and met Zelda as she came back so he knew Link had won, though he might've left before Zelda made her wish (or even woke up?) and thinks Lorule and Link is gone. Maybe. It has some sweet juicy angst potential to let Ravio think his home and hero are destroyed. But also including this would for sure make it a longer fic...
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mycroft-1697 · 1 year
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ma1dita · 3 months
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bedtime stories
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift
a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe
(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)
Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.
Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.
It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.
A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.
Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.
“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”
“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.
“You always pin campers to trees?”
“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.
“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”
Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.
“You’re always doing the most, huh?”
“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.
“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.
“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”
“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.
He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.
Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.
Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.
As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.
Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.
“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”
The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.
“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?
“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”
She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”
Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”
Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.
“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”
“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.
“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”
“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.
“Hey! Jerk.”
“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.
“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”
A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.
“And vulgar! What a shocker.”
“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”
Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.
“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”
A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.
Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.
“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.
“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.
“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.
“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”
You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.
Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.
Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.
“Sweet dreams, angelface.”
Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.
It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.
You’d never admit that, though.
“you steady me and stir me
all at once.”
-Tanya Wright
ask to be added to luke/general taglist!
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24kmar · 1 month
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ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴏᴏᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴄᴜʀꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʟᴜᴋᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛᴇʟʟᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. 
inspired by @mischiefmoons luke castellan x daughter of dionysus 🫶🏻🍷
"you're cold as ice baby, but when you're nice baby you're so amazing in every way. Its like i told you, if you stay ill stay."
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“You just caught me off guard—throwing yourself at me like a deranged satyr.”
“Oh because you’re a dainty nymph in distress,”
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Oh! Now that I've listened to 32 I can weigh in on if Hayward is hot now in good conscience.
My ruling:
Hayward is not any more or less hot than he was before, you all just have immense competency kinks. Which is normal and fine btw but I must point out that your experiences are not universal. some of us liked him even when disheveled and deeply pathetic. Some of us liked him especially when he was disheveled and deeply pathetic.
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Verse of the Day - Psalms 46:1
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livwritesstuff · 3 months
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When he and Eddie adopt their oldest daughter, Moe, Steve begins to experience a phenomenon.
The phenomenon is that whenever Erica Sinclair comes up from Indiana to visit them, Moe just so happens to discover a brand new way to misbehave.
Now, Steve knows that this is mostly a coincidence. Moe is eighteen months old, the perfect age for getting herself into trouble, and she does that plenty even without an audience. There’s definitely a certain level of consistency to it when Erica was around, and that was bad enough, but the real problem (for Steve, anyway) is that Erica is an attorney. When Moe inevitably gets herself into some kind of shit, Erica doesn’t hesitate for even a second to jump in as Moe’s unofficial legal counsel purely for her own enjoyment.
Which is exactly what happens when Erica visits and they find Moe in her bedroom (Steve knew there was a reason she was being so damn quiet) scribbling on her walls with crayons.
“Moe, wha–”
“Excuse me, I’m her attorney,” Erica immediately says, crouching down by Moe’s side.
Steve tries to ignore her.
Did you do this?”
“Absolutely not,” Erica says, her eyes on Moe. Moe looks right back at her with her big brown eyes for a moment before looking up at Steve.
“No,” Moe shakes her head.
“Why are you holding a crayon, then?”
“Where,” Erica demanded. Moe holds up her orange crayon with a cheeky grin, “Oh, I–”
“Did you do it?” he repeats.
“Objection – asked and answered,” she cuts in even as Moe shakes her head again.
“Okay, Moe, you know we only draw on paper, right?”
“Objection – art is subjective.”
Steve pauses to shoot Erica a look, but even in that short amount of time, Moe decides to turn back to the wall and resume her scribblings.
Erica does a double-take.
“Are you kidding me?” she mutters through gritted teeth, “Stop.”
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John 14:27
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